Chapter 46

46

D arcy had eschewed his usual early ride out from Darcy House this morning, and sat over a solitary breakfast, the newspaper discarded by his side. He had only read the report of the incident in Hertfordshire — which had nothing new to tell him, and no other news could interest him at the moment.

He intended to escort Georgiana to Gracechurch Street this morning to call on Miss Elizabeth, and was uncomfortably aware that he must, somehow, find a few moments to speak to her.

Richard had been right about the danger posed to the town by the militia; was he also right that Darcy did not deserve to win Miss Elizabeth?

His cutting words had filled most of Darcy's thoughts as he had attempted to focus his mind on what had to be done to secure the camp and the town, following Richard's instructions. But he could not shake off what they had spoken about in Bingley's library that evening. He wanted, above all else, to see Miss Elizabeth.

Darcy did not deserve her. He did not have the right to demand she tell him all her secrets. He was in error if he thought she did not see him as just another man in pursuit of her voice, her musical ability. And he was keeping secrets from her. He obviously did not trust her enough. All those things Richard had said were circling around in his mind, again and again.

He must speak to her today; too much had happened in the intervening day, and he would not be content to leave it many more hours.

Mr. Maunder. His valet knew Wickham by sight. If he sat up top with the rear footmen on the coach, he would be able to alert the guards escorting them if he saw the man near them. Georgiana must be protected, and he must think of every possible way to do that for the best.

Miss Elizabeth. She filled his mind beyond any lady he had ever met. Did he trust her? He must — he had no evidence she was a gossip or untrustworthy. He knew she was the lady he wanted beside him for the rest of his life. He wanted to protect her from all those who merely wanted to possess her talents.

But Richard said she had no reason to think him any different from other men seeking to possess her.

He sighed and signalled the footman to refill his coffee cup. He hoped he was not too tired to make these decisions. Bennet had come to London with his family. Perhaps he ought to ask for permission to call on Miss Elizabeth? Would that reassure her that he wanted to marry her rather than possess her?

But … secrets. As he drew a deep breath, the strong aroma of coffee heartened him. He breathed in again. He would tell her about Wickham and Georgiana and that Wickham was the deserter. Then she would know he trusted her. He knew he could; he had not a doubt of her secrecy.

Would she then tell him of her other secret? He grimaced into his cup. He must not expect it. Richard knew Darcy cared for her, but he must remember that it was not reciprocated; Miss Elizabeth barely knew him, his cousin had said. No, she would not tell him her secrets. But he needed to prove that he trusted her. And he would ask Bennet if he may call upon her.

A few minutes later, he knew he ought not to do that. He needed to have learned the lesson from his failing to speak to them before writing to his aunt. First, he must ask Miss Elizabeth if he could call upon her — before he asked Bennet's consent.

A sound in the hall roused him from his contemplations, and he rose to greet his sister, happy that he had concluded his plan for the day.

"Good morning, William!" Georgiana seemed bright and cheerful. "Am I correct that we might call upon Miss Elizabeth today?"

Darcy glanced round as he assisted Georgiana from the carriage outside number twenty-three, Gracechurch Street. He ought not; there were enough people guarding them, and he did not want to cause his sister any concern.

But they mounted the steps and his thoughts were filled with Miss Elizabeth. Soon, he would see her again. But the house would be full of people; how would he get a few moments alone with her, especially with his sister also wishing for her company?

Twenty minutes later, his impatience was mounting. Georgiana was deep in conversation with Miss Elizabeth, showing her the music she had brought with her, and discussing the aspects she wished for advice on.

But Miss Elizabeth hadn't drawn her away from the parlour, or taken her to the instrument — there must be one here, if she stayed here often — and Miss Elizabeth had also drawn Miss Mary into the conversation. Darcy didn't understand it. But she had glanced at him once or twice, and he thought he saw a slight flush on her cheeks. Was that cause for hope?

Bennet was also there, sitting beside his wife and sister-in-law. He was watching the young ladies with a curiously tender gaze, although Darcy was aware that on occasion the man's eyes turned towards him.

He was surprised, then, when Bennet stirred and turned to him. "Mr. Darcy, I wonder if you would do me the honour of a few words in private?" He rose to his feet.

For a panicked moment, Darcy wondered if his interest had been noted, before he pushed his feelings down. He rose to his feet.

"Certainly, Mr. Bennet." He glanced fleetingly at Miss Elizabeth just as she was rolling her eyes at her aunt, and he looked away hastily. What was she about?

Bennet led the way into a tidy little office, the walls lined with more books than Bingley had in his rather larger library, and stifled a smile.

When he saw Bennet's raised brow, he smiled openly. "Forgive me, Mr. Bennet. I was merely noting that Mr. Gardiner is obviously a better-read man than Bingley, close friend of mine that he is."

Bennet chuckled. "Take a seat, please, Mr. Darcy. I can understand your amusement; many of my brother's business competitors have discovered that a book-learned man is a formidable opponent!"

Darcy nodded. "I agree with that observation, sir."

"Very well. But I am not here to engage in idle observations, Mr. Darcy. I want to ask you about why you have been calling regularly at Longbourn, and have now called here." His gaze was fixed unblinkingly on Darcy's. "What are your intentions towards my second daughter, unlikely as they may seem?"

Darcy tried not to bristle. "Unlikely?"

"You cannot deny that gentlemen of your station in life would not normally have any honourable intentions towards a young lady in a situation so far below them." Darcy was incensed, especially when Bennet raised his hand to stop Darcy interrupting him. "The fact that my daughter has refused the assistance of your aunt to introduce her to society — well, I considered then that you might not wish to further your acquaintance with any of us." Bennet's eyes were amused.

"I am, however, cognisant that you apologised very handsomely, by letter and then in person; and even before that, after that first assembly. And despite that humiliation, you are still here."

He smiled. "Now you may answer."

Darcy stared at the fire. He must regain control. Bennet had the power to prevent him from even calling on Miss Elizabeth, and his words showed he had good reasons for considering it.

Bennet's skill at chess — and his extensive library — had made Darcy rethink the man's intelligence, and now, the fact that he stayed quiet to allow Darcy to order his thoughts, made him acknowledge the man's wisdom as regards his family, although why he had not addressed their behaviour, he could not fathom.

Eventually, Darcy raised his head. "Thank you for allowing me time to formulate my response, sir."

The man smirked. "I am used to making Elizabeth think carefully before she begins a tirade. I can see you are cut from the same cloth."

The warmth of hope spread through Darcy. Did Bennet approve of him?

The man shook his head at him. "You have not yet answered me, Mr. Darcy. It is no good beginning to look hopeful, just because I smiled."

"I apologise, sir. I had come here today with the settled intention of asking for your consent to call on Miss Elizabeth, but I had thought she would wish me to speak to her first. I hope I have learned my lesson not to omit the step of asking her opinion before acting."

"Well done, sir!" Bennet laughed openly. "If you can take such lessons to heart, I can assure you that you will have an easier time with any lady, especially one who has any spirit within her."

"As Miss Elizabeth does," Darcy observed.

"Certainly she does," her father confirmed. "So, why do you wish to call on her?"

Darcy felt troubled. But he would have to speak. "My feelings for Miss Elizabeth rather confound me, sir. I have come to understand that I cannot imagine my life without her in it." He tried to stop a pained look. "But my cousin took me very much to task the evening … the evening a few hours before we heard of the militia troubles. He …" Darcy dropped his head, then took a deep breath and lifted it. "He told me I did not deserve her, that she disliked me, and that I needed to be a better man."

"That was a shock, I think," Bennet murmured.

"Indeed. But, as I said, I cannot just walk away. I would like your permission, if she also agrees, to call upon her, and see if I can be a man worthy of her affection. Her happiness and safety is as important to me as that of my sister."

"Very well, Mr. Darcy. I give consent for you to call upon Lizzy if she agrees, and will speak to Mrs. Gardiner whether she can make some arrangement for the house to be a little less crowded at times." He grinned, extending his hand. "I am going back to Longbourn early tomorrow morning to see how the land lies, so at least I will not be here to watch your efforts!"