Chapter Nine

October 1811

Hertfordshire

Darcy

That George Wickham was responsible for the ruination of his life took hold of Darcy. Once he had seized upon the notion, he could not relinquish it, and he sent out inquiries to trace Wickham's whereabouts from the time the rumors began until now. The investigation did not turn up much. It was true that Wickham had been in London last year around the time rumors of the curse began, but no one could directly link him to the three men his uncle had claimed were spreading the tales. The search for answers stalled after that, though Darcy could not relinquish the idea that his nemesis, either personally or through intermediaries, had somehow manufactured a way to ruin his life completely.

His thoughts turned instead to more pleasurable activities. With each meeting, his fascination with Elizabeth Bennet grew. In his mind, she was just Elizabeth now—his Elizabeth. He had been captivated by her from the first moments of their acquaintance. Though he desired to court her openly, he refrained from showing her any particular attention for fear that his enemies were watching him even now.

Getting to know her without singling her out proved easier than Darcy had imagined. It began when he met her by chance one morning while he was out riding. She was walking alone, as she had mentioned the night before at the assembly, that this was her preferred method of exercise. Despite knowing that they were unchaperoned and that her reputation was at risk, he impulsively asked to join her.

After a few days of stilted conversation, their discussions shifted to more serious topics, ranging from books to estate management. In his opinion, Elizabeth proved to be a well-rounded individual in terms of her education. He had rarely met a lady so widely read and informed about the vagaries of life. She was sharp and intelligent, and Darcy fell deeper into her thrall with every meeting.

When they were together in society, he was careful to pay her no special attention, making a point to converse with Miss Bingley instead; their interactions were usually brief. Eventually, because of her obvious disinterest, he realized he could speak to her without raising her hopes. If anyone—possibly a spy for Wickham—was watching, it would seem as though he was trying to win her favor, not Elizabeth's. After discussing it with Bingley, he asked only that Darcy be cautious, for while his sister often annoyed him, he had no desire to see her ruined because someone had a grudge against his friend.

Darcy obliged and began his campaign in earnest. He greeted Miss Bingley warmly every morning and asked after her day at the evening meal. The lady answered in monosyllables or brief sentences, but Darcy persisted.

Two weeks after the assembly, there was a large gathering at Lucas Lodge. This pleased Darcy because it gave him another opportunity to speak with Elizabeth. She did not fit society's mold regarding accomplishments, but he continued to find her company engaging and her conversation stimulating. While he considered her very accomplished, she, by her own admission, felt she excelled at nothing but had knowledge of many things. She was fascinating!

Elizabeth also claimed to play the pianoforte very ill, so Darcy hoped she would exhibit that evening at the Lucases; he would judge for himself. Having been party to both cacophonous and melodious playing, he believed he could judge the veracity of his lady's skill.

Her family was an enigma. He recalled one of their conversations from a previous walk they enjoyed when she had spoken to him of her family. There were five Bennet sisters, though Darcy only recalled meeting the two eldest. Elizabeth spoke warmly of her older sister, claiming Jane was the sweetest creature ever to live. She saw fault in no one and showed compassion to even the most undeserving.

She described her next younger sister, Mary, as the most dedicated to accomplishments. Her lips twisted when she related this, causing Darcy to wonder if there was more to this sister than she said. She noticed his curiosity and went on.

"Mary is our oft-forgotten sister. She is a proud, serious-minded girl who desires to be noticed among her livelier sisters by others. She exhibits this through her efforts at mastering the pianoforte; unfortunately, her style and choices are pedantic." She gazed up at him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Next to Mary is Catherine—whom her family calls Kitty, as do her friends," Elizabeth informed him. "Unfortunately, she suffers from a lack of conviction and confidence. Kitty follows my youngest sister about like a puppy, mimicking her behavior—the good and the bad." She sighed.

"And finally, our youngest sister is Lydia. She is only fifteen and a more brash and loud girl you will never meet, I dare say. She is, by far, the most spoiled daughter. Mama favors her because of her lively disposition and encourages her poor behavior—much to her older sisters' vexation."

Recalling himself to the present, Darcy chose not to form an opinion of her family on so slight an acquaintance. Elizabeth's accounting might be accurate, but it was not complete. First impressions rarely told an entire story.

Such was the case with her mother. Mrs. Bennet was forward and blunt, often speaking without regard for the feelings of others—as he once did. She sought his attention and pushed her daughters at him whenever she could. She prattled on excessively, monopolizing the conversation and extolling her daughters' manifold attractions to anyone within hearing. Such uncouth behavior might once have annoyed him, but his new insight into people had him seeing a desperate mother wishing the best for her daughters rather than a matchmaking mama filled with machinations. Elizabeth's description of her parents' marriage confirmed his perceptions. He recalled another of their discussions of her family and estate while out walking together.

One morning, she told him, "There is an entail on my father's estate. Mama is… overly exuberant in her efforts to marry us off to eligible men. What she does not realize is that we refuse to be pushed into matrimony against our will. Jane and I have vowed to marry only for love or not at all."

"Then your sister would put off my friend if she did not care for him?" Darcy had asked. He had grown concerned about his friend's attention to Miss Bennet, not because he thought Bingley was too good for her but because Miss Bennet was all smiles and calm; he had wondered at the depth of her affection.

"Undoubtedly," she confirmed. "Though Jane is a kind and compassionate creature, she wishes for felicity in marriage and will not marry to please anyone but herself. Please, do not judge us based on my mama's poor behavior."

At Lucas Lodge, Darcy observed that Elizabeth's younger sisters were indeed a trial, even after he had been prepared to meet them again and were just as Elizabeth had described. That Miss Elizabeth could openly acknowledge the faults of her family astounded him, and Darcy found himself evaluating how he might present the more difficult members of his own family to the woman he meant to marry. He had never once considered the manner of reception any lady he wed might receive. How would he speak of his relations to a lady he fancied? Lady Catherine, for instance, was a tyrant. She demanded her way in all things, often brushing aside common sense in favor of fashion. Morton was a nice enough chap, but not the brightest man Darcy had known. He frequently uttered things that made his family blush.

And had not his own sister behaved abominably?

Darcy shook himself from his ruminations. His mind had wandered as he stood in conversation with several gentlemen, and he was thrilled when Miss Lucas convinced Elizabeth to play for the party. As she began to play a simple love ballad, Darcy became transfixed. Her expression changed rapidly as she sang; her breast swelled with song, and her fingers danced lightly over the keys. She enchanted him and he suddenly realized he was in great danger of fully losing his heart to the country miss.

Let me lose it , he told himself stubbornly. I shall act only in a manner that secures my own felicity, regardless of what others once wished for me.

He danced with Elizabeth again that evening, careful to guard his gazes and to grant other young ladies his attention. He even stood up with Lydia Bennet. She was an excellent dancer, he decided, and her constant stream of chatter removed the need for him to speak. It was not a trial to be so engaged, and he decided he would ask her again some other time.

Amongst other auspicious news, the guests also learned that evening the militia was to be quartered in Meryton over the winter. Darcy was unsure how he felt about that, but he resolved to simply enjoy the company and nothing more.

~

One crisp morning in early November, he encountered Elizabeth along the path of what he had learned was one of her favorite walks. It was a tree-lined path littered with fallen leaves in red, orange, and yellow. There were apple trees, bare of their fruit but for a few lingering at the top, and nearby, there was an old horse chestnut tree with a bench underneath it. It reminded him very much of the tree on the green in Lambton; he smiled at the memory. The area was lovely, and Elizabeth informed him that in spring and summer, wildflowers covered the fields around the path, their scent filling the air with sweet, natural perfume.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," he called to her as she approached. Her dutiful maid, Sally, trailed behind them. The girl was rubbing her eyes and looked somewhat cross, in Darcy's opinion. She stayed close enough for propriety to be observed, but far enough away that their conversation was still private.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth greeted him. "How do you do today, sir?"

"I am quite well," he said. "I must say, it was a pleasure to hear you play last evening at the Lucases."

"You said so then, but I am vain enough to appreciate your further praise," she teased.

Her tone spoke of her disbelief and Darcy sought to reassure her. "I have rarely heard something that gave me such delight," he insisted. Indeed, he had not. Even Georgiana's playing did not fill him with such… pleasure .

She smiled, glancing away from him. The grin that had appeared after her jest slid from her face, and she bit her lip.

Darcy was instantly anxious. "What is the matter?" he asked, trepidation filling his heart. He waited anxiously for her to speak.

She hesitated, turning away to gaze in the distance. In a gentle tone, she said, "I wish to speak to you of something that has held my curiosity since the first moments of our acquaintance. Though, I worry I shall upset or offend you."

Understanding dawned. "Ah," he said. "You speak of my words to Bingley on the evening of the assembly."

She nodded. "Indeed. They left me with so many questions. Will you not tell me what they mean? I have shared much of myself and my family with you. Do you not yet trust that you may share something of yourself with me? I assure you, your confidences will remain with me unless you wish otherwise."

Darcy gestured to the bench, inviting her to sit. He sat beside her and stared out at the rolling fields in the distance. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, with hands clasped in front of him as he considered his words.

"I hardly know where to begin," he confessed. "It is fantastical and nonsensical—completely unbelievable to me." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, mussing Jasper's careful arrangement.

She reached out and touched his arm gently. "I am listening."

He patted her hand where it lay, thrilled at the touch even though it was through his gloves. "I would ask that you do so with an open mind."

"You have my word."

He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, his cheeks expanding as he forced air through pursed lips. "It began last autumn," he said. "A bit of gossip started to circulate amongst the ton that I was unmarriageable. It had some basis in fact, for it seems every woman I have considered courting in earnest since my father's passing has met with some calamity or other. Some families quietly removed their daughters from London, and they married country squires; others suffered injuries in ‘accidents.' We—my family and I—thought the rumors would die if we ignored them, but soon they grew from me being simply unmarriageable to being cursed."

Elizabeth gasped but said nothing, so he continued.

"I left London for a time, hoping things would quiet, but they did not. After spending the winter at Pemberley, my estate, I took a house in Ramsgate for me and my sister. She was eager to try her hand at managing a household, so I some weeks at Hurst's family estate with Hurst and Bingley for some weeks while my sister remained with her companion at Ramsgate. There, I had word from my relations in town: things seemed to improve, and my aunt, Lady Matlock, hoped that I could return to London for the Little Season. But I had my doubts, given several vexing exchanges of conversation during my stay in Surrey. When I returned to Ramsgate to retrieve Georgiana, I found her in the process of eloping with an unsuitable gentleman—it seemed my poor luck had not abated.

"I was able to prevent the elopement, but she has not been herself since. When we returned to London, the rumors about me began again, taking on new life. I found myself the recipient of the cut direct from those I once called friends, and even shopkeepers seemed reluctant to serve me for fear that my tainted reputation would affect them.

"The latest exaggeration of my situation that has circulated is that I have lost my fortune and that I am desperately seeking a wealthy wife before I lose my estate. You wondered at Miss Bingley's aversion to my presence. This is the impetus for it."

He concluded with a sigh, taking up his discarded hat and mangling the brim with his hands.

"That is dreadful," Miss Elizabeth said sympathetically. "I believe I see now. You wish for it to appear that you favor no one so that the same misfortunes that have befallen others do not befall anyone else. I had wondered at your manner in company, for you never singled me out for attention despite our morning meetings. I believed for a brief moment that you were ashamed to know me but disabused myself of that notion." She paused, hesitating. "At the risk of breaching propriety, I must ask… Have you have been courting me these many weeks, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy's heart swelled. She would not abandon him! With a mixture of hope and trepidation, he replied, "I suppose I am. I have not asked you for an official courtship, but I have quietly been trying to come to know you without placing you at risk of the same calamities that those other ladies experienced."

"You will find I am made of sterner stuff than many of those society misses," she said, laughing merrily. "Do you think Mr. Bingley is right that someone has set out to destroy your life through these malicious lies?"

"Aye. I believe there is some merit to the idea," he said grimly. "I strongly suspect my old foe, George Wickham, to be involved, though all investigations into the matter have come to naught." Blast him; Wickham was as slippery as an eel and as untrustworthy as a mirage.

"Then we shall simply continue to be cautious," Elizabeth replied. "Mama will be easier to manage if she does not suspect any interest on your part, though I would ask that you inform my papa. His permission is necessary, as I am not yet of age. Besides, he delights in the ridiculous and will undoubtedly find amusement in our subterfuge."

Darcy agreed that Mr. Bennet ought to know of his wishes and the London gossip and agreed to converse with him when next he visited Longbourn.

~

Darcy knew very little about the Bennet patriarch. Elizabeth had not spoken of him at length, but she had mentioned she was her father's favorite, which boded well for his petition. She also told him that her father was well-read and intelligent, possessing a rapier wit and a sardonic personality.

"He takes great delight in the follies and foibles of our neighbors. His observations provide him with hours of entertainment. Unfortunately, his manner also extends to his treatment of my mother. Papa has little patience for foolishness, and Mama's nerves do try him continually."

"Will he be in favor of my request?" Darcy asked. Never in the past had he considered that a father would turn away his suit, but the last year had taught him that such matters were not always certain.

"Papa will not refuse me if it is what I wish. He will laugh at our pretense and take great pleasure in vexing my mother about it in some manner until we may reveal all."

"Will he put much stock in the rumors?"

Elizabeth laughed gaily. "If anything, the rumors will divert him, and he will rejoice when we prove wrong those who thought the worst of you."

Darcy sensed the unspoken implications of her words. There would be many upset society mamas when Mr. Darcy married a country squire's daughter and showed that the rumors were baseless. If he married her… and he very much wished to.

Elizabeth tapped on her father's library door and pushed it open at the call from within to enter.

"Good morning, Father," she said, bending down to kiss his cheek. The warm look Mr. Bennet granted his daughter filled him with longing. What he would give to have his father alive and well so that he could offer counsel during this time of trial!

"Good day, sir," the man said to him. "What brings you to Longbourn before the morning meal? Has Mr. Bingley accompanied you?"

"Mr. Darcy has a particular question for you, Papa," Elizabeth said. Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Does he? Well, now, Mr. Darcy, what is it you wish to say?"

Darcy swallowed and shuffled his feet. "It is a peculiar request…" he began, his voice faltering.

"And here I sat, thinking you wished to ask for a courtship with my Lizzy!" Mr. Bennet cried. "Oh, I am relieved to be so mistaken."

Darcy panicked. What had he done?

"Papa," Miss Elizabeth chided softly. "Allow him to speak."

Gathering his courage, Darcy stepped forward. "I do wish to ask your permission for a courtship with Miss Elizabeth," he began. "There are matters that complicate the situation, though, and we wished to make you aware of them."

"Have you disapproving parents that will appear at my door? Mayhap you have debtors that will kidnap my child and hold her for ransom! No?"

Darcy cleared his throat again and glanced at Elizabeth pleadingly.

"Father," she admonished. "You are hardly being helpful. Pray, save your amusement for another time and allow Mr. Darcy to disclose all that he revealed to me this morning."

Darcy launched into a recital, detailing to the gentleman all that he had told Miss Elizabeth earlier that day. When he finished, Mr. Bennet regarded him seriously, his fingers steepled before him.

"That is quite the tale. Unfortunately, I can believe that the ton is foolish enough to believe such nonsense. I do not frequent Town because I cannot abide a fool, though they do bring me some diversion. I confess, the notion of keeping your courtship secret amuses me! Mrs. Bennet will be furious when she discovers our game, you know, but I am of a mind not to care."

He turned to his daughter. "I am pleased you had the sense to take Sally with you, Lizzy. There is no need to court disaster when the odds are already against you." He then turned his attention back to Darcy. "To answer your request, yes, you have my permission to court my Lizzy. She is the best of my girls, and I would let no one less worthy attempt to win her heart. I ask only one thing."

"Speak it, and it will be done," Darcy said instantly.

"You speak rashly, lad," Mr. Bennet said cautiously. "What if I were to ask for half your estate? That would enable me to set aside dowries for the rest of my brood."

Darcy was slow to comprehend his tease, but Elizabeth's exasperated ‘ Papa' alerted him to it.

Mr. Bennet removed his spectacles to clean them. "I ask only that if anything befalls my daughter, you will stand by her and the entire Bennet family lest we are all ruined by association."

This Darcy could grant. He drew himself up to his full height and nodded solemnly. "You have my word, sir." He would not abandon her, or any of them.

"I thank you for your time and for your forbearance," he added sincerely. Mr. Bennet waved them both away and picked up the book he had discarded upon their entry. Elizabeth led the way out of the library and out a side door into a walled garden.

"That went well," she said gleefully.

"I was slow to detect your father's teasing nature," he groaned. "I felt like an errant schoolboy!"

"You managed him well enough," Miss Elizabeth assured him. "Now, I demand that we dispense with formalities, at least in private. Fitzwilliam , you must call me Elizabeth."

Darcy grinned and drew her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. "It would be my pleasure," he said huskily. If all went well, they would be married before Christmas.