His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (12 page)

"No, I made no such pretension," he protested. "I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for--it is, I believe, too little yielding--certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

Elizabeth shook her head, and Darcy was sorry to see some of the teasing light leave her eyes. "
That
is a failing indeed! Implacable resentment
is
a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well--I really cannot
laugh
at it. You are safe from me."

Though it was true that resentment is not be laughed at, he wondered if there was some other reason she could not.
Does she, perhaps, share the same failing? Against whom might she be holding a grudge?
A moment later, he discounted the notion; he could not believe it of her. Her every word, every gesture, indicated her to be kind and generous. However...

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil--a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome." Perhaps she would share her own as he had shared his.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in challenge. "And
your
defect is a propensity to hate everybody."

He almost laughed at the easy way she caught him out. "And yours is willfully to misunderstand them."

They might have continued on in such a manner until supper, had not Miss Bingley interrupted them once more. "Do let us have a little music. Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst."

"I have no objection whatsoever." Darcy and Bingley shared a look of amusement; they had often commented in private that Mrs. Hurst did not possess much in the way of wifely cares for her husband.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst once again opened the pianoforte and began to sing, and though Darcy at first resented their interruption, a moment's contemplation showed him the wisdom in it.
Miss Bingley seeks to gain my attention, because I have been giving it exclusively to Miss Elizabeth. It is a dangerous thing, Darcy, for a gentleman to single out a lady he does not intend to marry.

With that fact in mind, he resolved to ignore Miss Elizabeth for the rest of her stay at Netherfield. When he learned the next morning at breakfast of the Bennet sisters' wish to leave as soon as possible, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Surely I can avoid her for one day. Perhaps I will simply closet myself in the library with a book.

He had forgotten that one thing Miss Elizabeth shared with him was a love of good literature. He had scarcely been in the room for ten minutes when the door opened and she walked in.

So firm was his resolve to be neutral that he did not even feel a quiver of dismay at her arrival. He merely nodded his head to her and then returned his attention to his book while she selected one of her own.

He braced himself for the continual chatter of Miss Bingley, but instead, she sat down in a chair by the window and read quietly. He watched in some fascination when, a few minutes later, she absently curled her feet under her legs and rested her head against the seat back so she could read more comfortably.

Pay attention to your book, Darcy--not to Elizabeth Bennet.
The thought that he might raise hopes he could not fulfill drove his gaze back to the page, and after a few minutes he was sufficiently engrossed in the story to almost forget she sat not twenty feet away.

About a half hour later, she rose from her seat and replaced her book on its shelf before leaving the room. After she had gone, he found he had lost all enjoyment in his book. He set it down on the side table where he might find it again later and left the room as well. A quick glance around told him Miss Bingley was nowhere to be found, and he went directly out of doors.

Today, he was afforded the solitude he had wished for earlier in the week, and by the time he reentered the house a few hours later, his mind was once again in order. At the dinner table that night, he spoke more to Miss Bingley than to anyone else, though he said little at all. The eldest Miss Bennet took up Bingley's attention, and Darcy rejoiced in the thought that the sisters would soon be gone from Netherfield.

Darcy avoided the leave-taking the next morning. It was not merely Miss Elizabeth he did not wish to see; Miss Bingley's advances had severely tried his patience.

However, after the Bennet sisters were gone, Miss Bingley found him sitting with her brother in his study. Her presence forced him to set down a letter he had received from his steward at Pemberley, and he frowned in vexation.

If she noticed the forbidding look on his face, she did not heed it. "It is so nice to have one's house to oneself again, do you not think, Mr. Darcy?"

"I confess I am never happier than when I am with family at Pemberley." Satisfaction lit her face
. Does she believe I include her in a family party? I have had quite enough of her presumption.
"There is a peace about the place when none but Georgiana and I are there that I cherish."

Heat flushed Miss Bingley's cheeks, and she changed course. "I am sorry Charles allowed himself to be goaded into hosting a ball."

Bingley set his newspaper down and glared at his sister. "I say, Caroline, you need not talk about me as if I were not here."

Darcy looked over at his friend. "Netherfield is Bingley's home, and he may do as he pleases. I am surprised you are so unenthusiastic, Miss Bingley--I had thought all ladies longed to give a ball of their own."

The words had their desired effect. Miss Bingley left them alone and immediately set about making preparations for a ball at Netherfield. Were it not for the disquieting notion that she was attempting to show him her skills as a hostess, Darcy would have been most satisfied with himself.

It had been Darcy's belief that once the Bennet sisters were removed from Netherfield, he would be able to put Elizabeth Bennet out of his mind. To his surprise and dismay, he found this was not the case. In her short stay, she had stamped her presence on the place, and there were very few rooms in the house that did not hold some memory of her. The uneasy sense that she had gained more than his good opinion grew in his mind.

Thus, when Bingley announced at luncheon two days later that he intended to ride to Longbourn that afternoon, Darcy's instinctive reaction was retreat. Miss Bingley, however, spoke before he could. "Oh, I am sure Mr. Darcy has had quite his fill of the Bennet family, have you not, sir?"

Darcy pursed his lips in a frown, and then turned to Bingley. "I would be glad to join you at Longbourn this afternoon."

It was only later, as they approached Meryton, that he regretted the moment of pique which had driven him to accept the invitation. Bingley had been praising the elder Miss Bennet's beauty and charm since they had left Netherfield, and in the quiet of his own mind, Darcy had likewise reflected on Miss Elizabeth.
I must overcome this,
he told himself and yanked so hard on the reins that his horse grunted and tossed his head.

"Look, Darcy!" exclaimed Bingley as they rode sedately down High Street. "Perhaps we need not ride to Longbourn after all." Darcy looked where his friend indicated and saw four of the Bennet sisters standing off to the side of the street with a group of officers in the regimental. He and Bingley dismounted and led their horses to where the little party stood.

Bingley spoke first. "Miss Bennet," he said with a bow, "how fortunate this is. We are just on our way to Longbourn for the very purpose of seeing you and inquiring after your health, and here we find you in Meryton. You must be better then?"

Miss Elizabeth stood to the right of her elder sister, and Darcy carefully avoided looking at her. Miss Bennet smiled at Bingley's speech and said, "Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, how good it is to see you, and how very kind you are to still be concerned for me."

Darcy missed Bingley's reply entirely, for one of the gentlemen turned toward them and recognition struck him forcibly.
George Wickham!
Suddenly, Elizabeth was the last person on his mind. Anger heated his face and his hand involuntarily clenched.
What I would give to hit him, just once.

Wickham knew him well enough to perceive his thoughts, and it gave Darcy some satisfaction to see the pale ghost of fear cast a shadow over his countenance. Even that pleasure was short-lived, however, for it told him Wickham knew very well he deserved to be on the receiving end of whatever Darcy dealt him, and he remembered how upset Georgiana had been to discover how he had used her.

Wickham raised his hands to his hat in a polite salute, and after a moment, Darcy returned the gesture. He knew Miss Lydia rattled on about something, but he could not hear her over the blood rushing in his head.
George Wickham here in Hertfordshire! Will I never be quit of the man?

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and realized that Bingley had gotten back up on his horse. He remounted as well, but stayed silent when Bingley said their goodbyes to the ladies. He did not trust himself to speak with Wickham around.

Darcy stayed quiet the whole ride back to Netherfield Park. When they returned, he allowed the stable hand to take his horse for him, but when Bingley gestured back to the house, he declined. "No, Bingley, I need some time alone to think. You go on, I will be in before dark."

He took to the garden paths. More troubled him than simply the meeting with Wickham, though several moments passed before he allowed himself to admit it. Wickham's behavior toward Georgiana was enough to make Darcy hate the sight of him, but equally distressing was the fact that he had been in company with the Bennet sisters--particularly with Elizabeth--his Elizabeth!

His possessiveness surprised him, and it was with some effort that he turned his mind back to Wickham.
Can I stay in this country while he is here?
There was always the possibility that he would not be staying long in the area. There certainly were not any wealthy young ladies to tempt him in Meryton, so perhaps he was only visiting a friend and would soon be gone. "Bingley may know--he certainly attended to the conversation more closely than I did."

When the ladies withdrew after dinner, Darcy took his chance to speak with Bingley. "Bingley, I feel as if I owe you an apology for my behavior this afternoon." He cleared his throat. "I was rather shocked to see someone I have the misfortune of knowing--George Wickham, the son of my father's late steward."

Bingley furrowed his brow. "I heard the name, but I confess I did not make the connection. Is that not the young man who abused your generosity most grievously?"

Darcy took in a deep breath--Bingley did not know the extent to which Wickham had trespassed upon him. "Indeed. There is more, but I cannot share the whole, for it is a rather delicate nature and involves another's reputation. Suffice to say, I cannot stand to be in his presence."

Bingley looked down at his glass and swirled the port around before taking a sip. "Darcy, he has joined the -shire militia regiment. The younger Bennet sisters announced his intentions to us this afternoon."

This was unwelcome news indeed, but Darcy did not see how it should affect him overmuch. "This is unfortunate, but I believe I shall find a way to avoid the militia."

Bingley pinched the bridge of his nose. "Darcy, you know I am sending the militia an invitation to the ball. I cannot single him out; everyone would wonder why. Can you be in the same house with him?"

Darcy started to say no, that he would bow out of the ball if Wickham was to be there. Then he had a sudden vision of Wickham being able to monopolize Elizabeth's time. He would fill her dance card, sit at supper with her, and woo her with his smooth words.

"Yes, I will be there," he heard himself say.

Darcy second-guessed that decision every day for the next week, and were it not for the arrival of a second letter from Georgiana, he likely would have changed his mind. To even breathe the same air as Wickham was an injury to his sense of justice, to the duty he owed his sister. Could he be present in a room with Wickham? Her letter assured him he could.

Dearest Fitzwilliam,

Your letter arrived today, and I am much intrigued by what you say of Hertfordshire. It sounds quite different from the country around home. I do wish I could meet the people you have met there, especially the Bennets. There are not enough ladies my age in London at this time, and it would be nice to have someone to talk to.

Fitzwilliam, I must talk on a subject which may give pain to us both. You were right to bring me back to London after... after Wickham. I could not let him control my life. I see that now. There is so much in the world that is good; one man should not taint it all. Thank you, brother, for your wisdom.

I do not say that I am completely over the hurt he dealt me, for that would not be honest. However, I am coming to understand that perhaps... perhaps there was nothing I could do differently. I do believe he used me most grievously, and I do not truly understand why any man would do that. However, if it was not me... then perhaps it was him?