His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (23 page)

However, it was not only that day his aunt monopolized his time. By Thursday, Darcy wondered if he would have any time to himself before they left Kent. He had sat with her two afternoons and visited the members of the parish on the third, and he still had not spoken with Edgeley.

"And how was your afternoon, William?" Richard inquired a few evenings later. "I noticed you and our aunt had not finished your morning calls when I returned from Hunsford."

Darcy poured their after-dinner port and handed Richard his glass. "Yes, I fear her attentions are more assiduous than I had anticipated. I have barely been allowed to leave her side--or rather Anne's--since I suggested we might stay in Kent a few extra days."

Richard chuckled. "I told Edgeley you mean to call."

"Thank you, Richard. You see now why I believed that would require more than a day. With the exception of that first morning, I have not had a single moment to myself."

"You are far too agreeable, William."

Darcy knit his brows together--agreeable was one thing he had never been accused of. "I beg your pardon?"

Richard chuckled again at his baffled tone of voice. "You allow Aunt Catherine to control your life in a way you would not tolerate from anyone else. Do you not think my presence is required at these tea parties and afternoon calls?" He shrugged. "I simply tell her I have business of my own."

"Richard, you devil." Darcy stared at the rich plum-colored wine of his glass, then sighed. "But I am afraid that will not do for me. You forget that I am about to disoblige her in the worst possible way. It would be better for all involved, not the least..." He barely caught himself before naming Elizabeth. "...my future bride, if she is not already--"

"Most seriously displeased," the cousins chorused, a grin on their faces as they repeated their aunt's oft-used phrase.

"So you have a bride in mind then?" Richard questioned.

Darcy nearly choked on his port. "Why do you ask that?"

Richard bent his head to light his cigar, but Darcy thought he saw the familiar gleam of wicked humor. "You said you were about to disoblige our aunt. I assumed from that you had a woman in mind."

Darcy remembered suddenly that it was Richard's job to notice details others might overlook. "I am not yet engaged, if that is what you are asking," he said, after pausing for an instant too long.

"It was not," Richard replied cheerfully, "but we can leave it at that for tonight. Come, I am sure Aunt Catherine is requiring our presence."

Darcy followed him out of the room, filled with the sudden certainty that Richard knew a great deal more than he let on. That belief was solidified the next afternoon, when they called together at Hunsford Parsonage.

The ladies greeted them in the parlor, and a few minutes later the hurried steps in the hall announced the arrival of Mr. Collins. Darcy cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, who seemed as amused by the man's pompous behavior as he was. It was some minutes before the parson finally drew breath, and when he did, Richard stepped in to fill the gap.

Darcy leaned back in his chair, all his confidence suddenly gone. He could hold his own against his cousin in many things, but conversation was not one of them. However, as the call went on, Darcy suspected that Richard purposely chose topics he knew Darcy could not speak on.

"You will have to forgive my cousin," he told Mrs. Collins at one point. "He is not usually so inarticulate." Darcy protested, but Richard just laughed. "Did you not promise Miss Elizabeth you would practice, Cousin?" he gibed.

Darcy wished very much to speak with Elizabeth; the difficulty was, he could not say any of the things he wished to when they were in company. He looked over at her and suddenly he knew exactly what he could say to direct the teasing away from himself.

He sighed and glanced between Elizabeth and Richard. "You considered it ill-fortune to have met someone here who could expose all your faults--imagine my bad luck then to always have my cousin with me."

She and Richard both laughed, and it was only a few minutes later when the clock struck three o'clock, and he realized they had been there for nearly an hour. Both gentlemen rose from their seats and made their farewells.

"You surprised me, William," Richard said when they reached the road. "I did not think you capable of laughing at yourself so easily."

Darcy glanced sideways at him. "Perhaps that is because when I am with you, I have no need to laugh at myself. You do quite a good enough job of it for both of us."

It was not truly a joke, but Richard laughed anyway and slapped him on the shoulder. "Well, better to laugh at yourself than to sit there with that stupid look on your face."

When they arrived back at Rosings, they found their aunt in an ill humor. Anne was feeling poorly, and Darcy had not been available to show his care of her, as he ought. He inquired of the physician who tended her and learned his cousin suffered a feverish headache.
Likely brought on by exerting herself for me,
he thought, with no very charitable feelings toward his aunt.

Darcy doted on his cousin--when they were younger, they had been quite close. But Anne had fallen ill when she was only eight and had never fully recovered. He would have liked to care for her as he did for Georgiana, but his aunt's ridiculous assumption regarding their future made that impossible. It was partly this sense of responsibility and remembered fondness that kept him from denouncing her plans, as Richard believed he ought.

On Saturday, Darcy and Richard sat with their cousin and took turns reading to her or simply keeping her company. It was not much, and Darcy chafed at his inability to do more.

The next day, their party was one short at church. Mr. Collins fawned over his aunt and pretended concern for Anne in a way that sickened Darcy. However, before he could cut him down with one of his famous scathing remarks, Elizabeth met his gaze and said, "I do hope Miss Anne does not suffer long."

Her simple sincerity brought the first smile to his lips in a full twenty-four hours. "I will pass along your good wishes, Miss Elizabeth."

Of course, with Anne ill, they did not entertain that evening, and the company grew rather tiresome. Lady Catherine was more petulant than usual, and Richard escaped early with the ruse of a letter to write. She turned to Darcy after he left and said, "I suppose you are going to say you must write to Georgiana--well, I shall not keep you."

Darcy bowed over her hand and barely kept himself from running out of the room. A few minutes later he heard a quiet tap on his door and Richard walked in. "Managed to escape did you? Good, I am glad. You looked like you were about to lose that famous Darcy temper."

Darcy took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his hair. "I cannot stay with her tomorrow," he confessed. "Will you make my excuses? Tell her I have to visit Edgeley--I still have not spoken with him, and tomorrow is as good a day as any."

Richard nodded. "I will. I know your habit of saying things you later regret when pushed too far, so I think it is best you have a day to cool off. And perhaps Anne will be feeling better on the morrow. I am sure Lady Catherine would not be half so ill-humored if she were downstairs."

"Let us hope," Darcy murmured, and a moment later Richard left.

Darcy still felt out of sorts when he rose the next morning. He had swallowed a dozen sharp remarks the night before, and the taste of them was bitter on his tongue.

He pulled his dressing gown on and crossed the room to the window. The world was still dark, though he thought the eastern sky was a shade lighter than the deep azure in the west. He opened the latch and took a deep breath of fresh air, and suddenly he knew what he needed to regain his peace of mind.

Darcy was outside ten minutes later. He tilted his head back to welcome the mist; today's weather was not as fine as it had been on that other morning. However, he had no doubt that Elizabeth would come.

Today he reached the grove first. It was not yet dawn, and he sat down on the bench to watch the sunrise over the edge of the trees. When the grass shimmered with a silvery light, he stood and walked in the direction of the parsonage. It would not be long now, he felt sure.

He heard Elizabeth before he saw her, humming a light, pleasing melody. She did not seem surprised to see him, a fact which gratified him greatly. "Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I see we meet again."

"Indeed, Miss Elizabeth--it seems we are both in the habit of a morning walk." Darcy could easily imagine mornings spent walking through Pemberley with her, and he said the first thing that came to him. "For my part, however, they need not always be solitary walks." He fell in step beside her as she approached the brook.

She did not speak for a long moment, and Darcy knew she was parsing his last statement. A quick glance at her confirmed the blush he anticipated, and he knew he could say no more on the subject without a formal declaration.

He opened his mouth, intending to speak the words he had prepared--"My dear Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor..."

Instead, a voice he hardly recognized as his own said, "How did you leave Mr. and Mrs. Collins this morning?"

Her brow wrinkled, and he cringed at his own feeble conversation device. "I think I understand from my aunt," he said hastily, "that Mr. Collins is also a lover of the dawn."

Elizabeth smiled. "Oh yes, he rises early so he may have his sermonizing done before Lady Catherine might have other need of him."

Darcy smiled, but then a strange thought struck him. "And your friend? She does not mind having her life dictated by one so wholly unconnected with herself?"

Elizabeth frowned pensively. "I think," she said at last, "that Mrs. Collins is grateful enough for her own household that she would put up with anything."

"Surely that is not a recipe for marital felicity."

She shook her head. "I would not think so--certainly it would not be for myself--but then, as I have been reminded, our situations are not the same."

Elizabeth glanced up at him, and he forgot to breathe. If he had nearly declared himself earlier, then now so had she.

He could not think of anything to say after that, and they walked together in silence for some moments until they reached the point where the path veered toward the road. "And here is where we must part, I fear, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth smiled up at him and then skipped along the path without giving him a chance to reply.

Darcy's visit with Edgeley took the whole of the afternoon, and he barely had time to change for dinner before the meal was announced. Anne was present, though still a little more pale and wan than usual, and Darcy appeased his aunt by offering her every possible solicitude. He knew the time grew near when he would tell her he would not marry his cousin, and he wanted her in the best possible mood when he presented Elizabeth to her.
Though Elizabeth is more than capable of holding her own,
he thought with a smile.

To his surprise, Darcy slept late the next day. When he arrived in the breakfast room, the footman informed him that Richard had already eaten and left for his round of the property. His first feeling of guilt that Richard had been left to handle their joint duty alone was squashed by the sudden conviction that he would take advantage of Darcy's absence to call at the Parsonage.

Much to his surprise, when his aunt came downstairs she announced her intention of doing likewise. "I have not called on Mrs. Collins since you arrived at Rosings, Darcy. You will join me this afternoon at the Parsonage."

For once, her dictatorial style did not bother Darcy in the slightest. The ladies of Hunsford received them most cordially when they arrived, and if Elizabeth seemed more quiet than usual, Darcy attributed it to her understanding that no more could be said between them until he paid his formal addresses.

It was the most comfortable afternoon he had ever spent in his aunt's company. In Elizabeth's presence, he was able to drown out Lady Catherine's gross improprieties and simply enjoy the rest of the company. When the visit ended, he could truthfully say to Mrs. Collins, "I enjoyed my time with you this afternoon, ma'am."

All of Darcy's good will disappeared the next morning, when Richard was again absent at breakfast. He set his coffee cup down with rather more force than necessary, then took a deep breath.
Remember all Elizabeth has said,
he reminded himself.
She welcomes your suit; do not fret.

Still, by the time Richard returned in mid-afternoon, he was tense, and he knew it was time to speak to his cousin openly regarding his intentions toward Elizabeth. "Would you mind joining me for a ride, Richard?" he said without preamble.

Richard blinked. "Of course, William. Just let me change. Shall I meet you in the stables in fifteen minutes?"

"I will have a groom saddle two horses."

Twenty minutes later, they were cantering across the fields to the far reaches of the estate. Neither man said a word until they reached the hedgerow that marked the boundary there.

When they slowed their horses and turned back, Richard shifted in the saddle to look at Darcy. "Do you know Miss Elizabeth does not like riding? I can hardly imagine it, can you?"