Chapter 1

It was far too early for Darcy to be riding to Longbourn. The knocker might even be down, given how late the Netherfield ball had finished last night.

But he could not, in all conscience, leave Hertfordshire with Miss Elizabeth being angry at him; and as he had already agreed to leave for town this morning, he must speak to her as soon as possible. He slowed the horse to a walk. Was he doing the right thing?

He had passed a sleepless night, thinking what he ought to have said during his dance with her, although he had not been master of his emotions then, as the woman he so admired had thrown Wickham’s name in his face.

‘…He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life…’

Although her voice had been low, it had been no less accusing for that, and Darcy had not thought of any response which would not have caused him to lose his temper. Had they not been interrupted by Sir William at that moment, he wondered if she might have walked away from him in the midst of the dance; and the memory of it caused him to draw the horse to a halt.

He sat thinking. He had been so distracted by Sir William’s expectations for a match between Bingley and Miss Bennet that he had forgotten what had gone before and he turned the subject to an attempt to discuss books — until Miss Elizabeth had begun to try to sketch his character.

That subject, too, had discombobulated Darcy; so much so that he had finished the dance with the conviction that he would be well to leave the area and never set eyes again on the young lady with such dangerous eyes.

By the end of the evening, however, and once returned to his chambers, Darcy had settled all his anger on the real culprit, and felt nothing but concern for Miss Elizabeth. Undoubtedly Wickham had been his usual charming self; how was such an innocent lady to know the danger of a despicable individual like that reprobate?

No, he must go to her this morning, and he had made detailed notes to memorise what he had omitted to say last night during the dance. He prayed she would hear him out. He had also penned a quick note to his cousin, and knew Richard would be on his way to Hertfordshire just as soon as he obtained the papers Darcy had asked him to bring. He would not go to town and leave Wickham to wreak dishonour on another young woman’s life.

He nudged the horse forward; Miss Elizabeth would not be safe from Wickham until he had spoken to her.

And there was another worry in his mind. That odious cousin of hers, who had caused her such embarrassment on the dance floor. Darcy shivered; the man was a fool. But his intentions were obvious. He had fawned around Miss Elizabeth, and his leering expression was enough to make Darcy want to drag the man off and frighten him away.

It seemed obvious to Darcy that Collins was going to offer for her and he could not bear to think of her shackled to such a man; beholden to Lady Catherine every day of her life. He shuddered, and urged the horse forward.

In his efforts not to appear too early at Longbourn, he had taken one of the many back lanes and found himself rounding the boundary wall at the west side of the property as he walked round towards the front door. But the house was close to the wall, and one of the parlour windows must be open, for he heard a screech from Mrs. Bennet.

“Lizzy, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr. Collins!”

Darcy cringed as he heard it. Was … had her mother connived with a proposal by the man? He could hear voices and movement as Mrs. Bennet herded another daughter away, and the forceful sound of a door slamming.

He hoped profoundly that Miss Elizabeth was also on the other side of it, making off on one of her walks. But he was not so fortunate. The oily sound of his aunt’s parson was the next voice that he heard, and he listened in dismay as the man bumbled through a disorganised, flowery proposal that blithely assumed he was never going to be refused. In fact, the man didn’t even ask the question, and Darcy heard Miss Elizabeth’s shaking reply — was her voice shaking with rage, or with laughter? He didn’t know.

But he ought not to listen to more. He hurried round to the front of the house and rapped on the door, asking at once for admittance to Mr. Bennet’s presence.

* * *

Despite the early hour,Bennet welcomed him into his library, ordering coffee as a concession to the time.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy looked down at his cup. He was abominably unsure of the way he seemed to be careening from the way he had planned his life. Each tiny deviation sent him further down a path he hadn’t planned.

He took a deep breath. Did he want this? No, he didn’t. But there was no other option to lend his protection to Miss Elizabeth. And it was his heart which forced this priority.

He raised his head. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Bennet. I — intended to call upon Miss Elizabeth this morning, but as I rode past an open window I overheard Mrs. Bennet insisting her daughter hear Mr. Collins and the man then making an offer to her.” He bowed his head. “I am aware it was wrong of me not to turn away at once, but, sir … I cannot do aught but tell you of my deep concern for the well-being of your daughter should you permit them to wed.”

There was a long silence. Finally Darcy glanced up. Bennet was regarding him thoughtfully.

“I will always listen to any concern for my daughters, Mr. Darcy; I am not so indolent as all that. But, first, I must ask you — what are your intentions towards Elizabeth?”

Darcy sat up straighter in his chair. He had never thought to admit this. “I admire Miss Elizabeth greatly. I would wish her to be happy, and therefore I ask your permission to make her an offer of marriage.” It was final. He had actually said it.

Forcing down twin emotions of elation and chagrin, he drew breath again. “I have wealth enough to ensure her security and to make any settlement you …” he stopped as Bennet raised his hand.

“I thank you for the courtesy of speaking to me first, Mr. Darcy, but does Elizabeth know of your intention to offer?”

Darcy shook his head. “I would have preferred to have spoken to her first this morning. We … er … I believe there was some misunderstanding between us at the end of our dance and I would wish to resolve that with her first. But hearing Mr. Collins precipitated the issue rather.”

“I can understand that.” Bennet smiled wryly. “But I must say this, though I fear it may offend you. I wonder if you are not aware of the antipathy Elizabeth holds for you, which began when you denigrated her looks at the assembly.”

“She heard me?” Darcy was horrified. “She must despise me for it.”

Bennet nodded. “I will not yet consent to you making her an offer, sir. Not until you and she have resolved any difficulties. You may need to call on her for some time before she would be remotely likely to accept you.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “If you are still determined to offer.”

Never had Darcy considered any lady would refuse him. But if it was to happen, it would be Miss Elizabeth. He smiled to himself, she was an outstanding lady. Perhaps it was because she was no sycophant that he admired her so.

Bennet cleared his throat, and Darcy jerked to the present.

“I think you may need to vacate my library, Mr. Darcy,” he said mildly. “I believe that at any moment, my wife is going to burst in, followed by Mr. Collins, attempting to persuade me that Elizabeth must be told to wed him.” He shook his head at Darcy’s expression. “Do not be concerned. I would not force her, sir, any more than I would force her to accept you.”

He sighed, and rose to his feet. “I will expect you to call upon my daughter over the next few days,” he leaned forward with a gimlet stare and met Darcy’s eyes. “If you are serious about what you have said to me.”

Darcy rose too, and bowed his head. “I am, sir.”

“Very well, I will tell her to expect you to call.”