Chapter 17

A s had been planned, the Darcy coach, with Darcy and Bingley as passengers, departed Netherfield Park soon after they had broken their fast.

In Bingley's opinion he could not leave the infernal neighbourhood fast enough. In order to soothe his unwelcome thoughts about his failure to attract Miss Bennet, who he had to admit was the most beautiful of all women he had designated as an angel, he convinced himself the deficiency lay with her.

That was meaningless now. Bingley had a plan for his future, one he was sure would bring him everything he desired.

Darcy's conscience was screaming in his head and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was telling him that he was fleeing like a cur, all because he had allowed his pride to overrule what he knew he should have done the very next day after his unwise and untrue words had been uttered at the assembly—apologise to Miss Elizabeth. He felt the shame of his cowardice knowing he was escaping seeing her any more, as she was not nearly high enough for him to marry. He was inured to fortune as he had more than enough money of his own, but he could not marry one so low.

Thinking of the Bennets reminded him of his duty to warn his aunt and uncle that their son was consorting with people who were far below his notice and was in danger of being caught in a trap. Here again Darcy ignored his conscience which told him that he knew Richard would never allow himself to be entrapped. He could not think of that as then it would lead to the question if a Bennet daughter was acceptable for Richard, then why was he running away at all speed? Also, why had he not reproached Richard for causing Bingley to miss his own ball?

Darcy shook those contrary thoughts from his head and concentrated on what he would tell Aunt Elaine and Uncle Reggie. He revisited his thoughts about joining the Duke of Bedford and his party on The Rose . He would be thousands of miles from England and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. As quickly as he had the thought, he discounted it for the same reasons he had the first time when he had decided his travelling at that time was not an option.

As neither man in the coach desired to speak of what he was thinking, they soon drifted off to sleep.

Not a quarter hour after the Darcy equipage departed, the Hursts and Miss Bingley left in the Bingley equipage—Bingley had allowed them to use it as it was convenient for him to have his coach brought to London. Unlike for their brother and Mr. Darcy, the atmosphere in their carriage was hopeful and convivial.

With the decision she would look to find a man who was compatible with her, who liked her for herself; not based on class and wealth, Caroline felt as if a millstone had been lifted off her shoulders. She was ready to seek her own future, to satisfy her own needs, and not her brother's.

The sisters were looking forward to seeing Miss Bennet in London and possibly becoming friends.

Richard stood and watched the second of the departures. The lease on the estate was his. That paled in comparison to what he planned to do that morning. He looked at his fob watch. It was only quarter after ten. His carriage would be ready in another fifteen minutes. As much as he loved riding Invictus, this was one day Richard did not want a whiff of the smell of horse on his person.

On a normal day he did not pay much attention to his outfit, relying on his valet to make choices for him. Not this morning. Knowing Miss Mary—he hoped he would soon be able to drop the Miss—liked royal blue, his waistcoat was that colour and he had requested his dark blue jacket as well.

It was time to count the seconds. If Richard had known how to speed up time, he would have done so.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Mary Bennet was in anticipation of Mr. Fitzwilliam's arrival like nothing she had ever experienced before. To burn off some of her nervous energy she had joined Lizzy for a ramble earlier that morning.

The two of them had walked towards Oakham Mount with John Biggs and Brian Johns as escorts. Elizabeth had remarked to Mary that no matter how fast she walked, the two footmen-guards were always able to keep pace with her. The sisters did not walk all the way to the eminence, they turned back about a half mile before it.

On their return to the house, Mary had gone up to her chamber to bathe and change. During the morning meal, rather than eat as much as was her wont, she pushed the food around her plate. She could not think of eating when she was so close to hearing—what she hoped—would be a declaration of his intentions by Mr. Fitzwilliam. Would she be allowed to call him Richard in private after this morning? She certainly hoped so. Mary had decided it was her favourite name for a man, even putting it ahead of Henry. She was certain that unlike the three kings of England who had borne the name, her Richard would not be beset by misfortune.

Once the meal was completed, her father made his way to his study to take care of correspondence and estate business while Mary joined her mother and sisters in the drawing room. She picked up her sampler, but was too busy surreptitiously watching the clock on the mantle to make a single stitch. Why was the time moving so slowly as the hands of the clock unhurriedly moved towards eleven when he would arrive?

Cilla, Jane, and Elizabeth did not miss Mary's distraction. They were fully aware of who she was waiting for and they could not have been happier for her.

The two older Bennet sisters felt not an iota of envy Mary had a suitor before them. As all three of them had vowed to marry only for the deepest love and respect, like they witnessed daily between their parents, they knew when God decreed it was their time to find their soulmate, they would discover him.

With the dowries their parents had amassed for them, the Bennet sisters were well aware they had no pressing need to marry like Charlotte had felt.

At about five minutes before the hour the ladies in the drawing room heard the sounds of horses and a conveyance coming from the front of the house. Mary had to fight the inclination to jump out of her seat and rush to the front door. While she was contemplating the imprudence of such an action, her father entered the room and sat next to Mama.

Hill showed Mr. Fitzwilliam into the drawing room where he bowed to the five Bennets who were standing. A bow and four curtsies were given in return. "Good morning to all of you," Richard intoned, although his eyes which had locked onto Mary as soon as he entered the room, never left her as he spoke.

"Welcome Fitzwilliam," Bennet returned, "do you have a particular purpose in calling this morning?" Bennet ribbed, knowing full well why Fitzwilliam was present.

"Unless Miss Mary has changed her mind, I would like to have a private interview with her," Richard replied evenly. He was well aware Bennet enjoyed having good natured sport with those he liked .

"I have not," Mary blurted out as soon as Mr. Fitzwilliam stopped speaking. "I mean, I am happy to hear what you have to say."

"Biggs is outside of the small west parlour, you may speak to Mary there," Priscilla informed Richard.

"No more than ten minutes and as I am sure you are aware, the door will remain partially open," Bennet added. He watched as Fitzwilliam nodded his understanding and then led their daughter of nineteen years out of the drawing room.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Biggs gave a nod of his head as Mr. Fitzwilliam led Miss Mary into the parlour. He watched as the door was pushed closed from within, and as the master had instructed, it was left an inch or two open. He stood at the ready if he was needed, but he did not expect that would be the case.

Richard led Mary to an armchair and then paced back and forth once or twice as he marshalled his thoughts. Knowing what he wanted to say to her, Richard sat in the chair opposite.

Part of Mary was hoping Mr. Fitzwilliam would sink down onto one knee, but she quickly owned that a courtship was a prudent step so they would know one another much better before—if—he proposed. The truth was Mary could not imagine marrying another man, but she was well aware it would take both of them to want the same thing.

"Miss Mary Bennet—Mary, from the very first time I met you I was attracted to you. The more time we have spent in one another's company, the more certain I have become that we are as compatible as any have ever been. Although you are beautiful, it was not your beauty which attracted me," Richard began. "It was your intelligence, wit, humour, and compassion for others which I saw before I noted just how pretty you are.

"Each time we speak, I find more proof that I am right; you are the only lady for me. It has been some time since I developed tender feelings for you and I find myself on the precipice of falling irrevocably and deeply in love with you. That, coupled with the respect I feel for you, leads me to beg your indulgence and grant me the supreme honour of courting you."

"I too felt a pull to you at that first meeting," Mary owned, "it was very new for me as I have never felt like that before. My sisters and I pledged a few years ago we would not marry without the deepest love and respect…"

Hearing Mary's words, Richard held his breath. Had he misread the situation?

"…and like you, I cannot say I am in love with you today, but I do know I am well on my way to being in that state."

Richard beamed a face splitting grin when he heard the rest of her sentence.

"If I did not believe we would conclude this courtship and become affianced, I would not waste your time, however, I believe that is what will happen. So yes Richard , I would love to be courted by you."

Almost jumping off the chair, Richard stood and took Mary's ungloved hands in his own. He kissed the top of each before rotating each hand and bestowing lingering kisses on the pulse of each wrist. Mary did not flinch when he did so and he could not miss the look of pleasure she showed at his action.

His lips burned her skin each time he kissed her hands. Mary felt a frisson which shot up her arm as the hand attached to it was kissed on the upper and lower side. As she watched his lips linger each time he kissed her hand, Mary could not but think how wonderful it would be to feel his lips on her own. The thought alone caused her to blush. She could not believe that she, Mary Elizabeth Bennet, would have such wanton thoughts.

"I think you need to speak to Papa," Mary managed breathlessly. "Let us return to the drawing room, he may still be there."

Mary took the offered arm as they both floated out of the parlour on a cloud of happiness. The normally stoic Biggs had to fight a smile as the couple passed him. There was no missing the dreamy looks on the countenances of both.

There were four expectant faces looking at them when Mary and Richard entered the drawing room.

"Bennet may I please speak to you in your study?" Richard requested.

Rather than rib Fitzwilliam, especially after the look Cilla shot him, Bennet stood and led the younger man towards his study. That left Mary standing in the same spot as if lost in a haze of pleasure.

"Would you like to sit and wait for Papa and Richard to return, or do you have something to tell us?" Priscilla enquired of her youngest daughter.

"He requested a courtship, which I granted," Mary sighed.

"We are all very happy for you, Mary. You deserve every happiness which comes your way. Now come sit, I think some restorative tea is needed while we wait for the men to return." Priscilla stood and guided Mary to a seat on the settee between her older sisters.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

After sitting behind his desk, Bennet indicated one of the chairs before it for Fitzwilliam to sit. "Did Mary accept a courtship or an engagement? I hope the former as I think it is too soon for the latter."

"I offered a courtship which Mary granted." Richard missed he had used her familiar name and Bennet did not point it out. "I would like to ask your permission and blessing."

"You have it," Bennet granted without hesitation. Fitzwilliam's attraction to Mary began before he was privy to the fact Cilla owned the estate he was now leasing. It was only then Bennet had revealed their income from the combined estates, and to date Fitzwilliam had not asked for, and he had not mentioned, after providing a rough estimate of the amount, the full amount of Mary's dowry, although Richard had a good idea of what it was.

As soon as Bennet and Cilla had noted Richard's interest in Mary, he had had Philips commission an investigator to check into the man. Everything had been positive and it listed his estate, income just at eight thousand per annum, the house in London, and the fortune which brought in another almost five thousand per annum from the four percents. Even though he was certain from day one the man was not hunting for a fortune, it was comforting to receive unbiased confirmation.

"If we reach that point, when you have a draft settlement drawn up, leave the space for Mary's dowry open. I know you have an idea what the girls have, but it is not quite accurate," Bennet instructed.

"I would not have cared if her dowry had only been one or two thousand pounds as rumoured in the area, or if there was no dowry at all. I have more than enough for us and any children we may be blessed with if I am fortunate enough to marry your youngest daughter."

It was premature to speak of dowries, the man sitting opposite him had not proposed yet so Bennet closed the subject. "As I said, if and when it becomes relevant, we will have that discussion."

"Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to know Mary better," Richard stated gratefully.

As Fitzwilliam had used her familiar name again, Bennet felt it was incumbent on himself to make a comment. "At this point addressing Mary by her familiar name—as long as she has permitted such—is acceptable in private with her or her family present. However, until you are engaged, in public she is still Miss Mary to you."

Fitzwilliam inclined his head in acknowledgement and to show his agreement. Bennet stood, the two men shook hands and then they made their way back into the drawing room to make the announcement, even though Bennet believed it was superfluous at that point.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Two men who would do almost anything for a price, were rather frustrated. They had tried to capitalise on knowledge they had—knowledge they were sure the man who had employed them for the task would not want known, but three letters demanding a price for their silence had been ignored.

"It be time to send proof to the one ‘e ‘ad us deal with," the one man asserted.

"I agree, it be the only way to show ‘im ‘e should not ignore us," the second man added.

Soon enough a letter and a copy of the proof they had retained was on the way to the man who had been the victim.