Page 53 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Several hours later, while each occupant of the house on Gracechurch Street was quietly engaged in some activity or other—reading, sewing, playing on the floor with the children, or pulling apart a hideous bonnet bought in Brighton on a whim—the maid announced Mr Darcy. If groans were heard from the youngest Bennet daughter, the others, including the caller himself, pretended not to have noticed.

After greeting everyone in the room, Mr Darcy crouched down beside Elizabeth and the children. Surreptitiously, her little finger touched his, and he smiled.

“Who are these handsome young ladies and gentlemen?” He winked at the four gaping children. “I have heard much about you from your cousin here, so let me see whether I can guess your names.” He proceeded to assign each of them an endearment Elizabeth had used during the ride round the park.

While the children laughed and cried out in protest, Elizabeth was well pleased he had been paying attention when she had effusively praised her beloved relations. He had remembered each affectionate term but had incorrectly assigned them, perhaps purposely. “Your coming here today is a pleasant surprise, sir.”

He whispered that he had not been able to stay away, then he glanced over his shoulder. “Your father watches us like a hawk and wishes I had stayed away. Is there a chance we might arrange a modicum of privacy?” As he helped Elizabeth gain her feet, he added, “I wish to consult with you on an important matter.”

“And I have something to discuss with you.” After a moment’s thought, Elizabeth said, “Aunt, would you like Mr Darcy and me to take the children out to the garden for air and exercise?” Mrs Gardiner readily agreed.

Immediately Mr Bennet stood and stretched. “I could use some of London’s infamous air myself. Children, would you like your uncle Bennet to chase you round the garden? Mr Darcy may chase your cousin, but he will not catch my Lizzy.”

Whatever his design might have been, Elizabeth’s father soon was hoist by his own petard. Once in the garden, the children chased after him, pestered him to run after them, clung to his arms and legs, and generally gave him neither peace nor any opportunity to eavesdrop on his daughter and her gentleman caller.

Meanwhile, Mr Darcy stood beneath the mulberry with Elizabeth, kept an eye on her father, and spoke in a whisper. “As your future husband, I would like to accompany you to tomorrow’s meeting at Pemberton & Monroe. Although I have my own attorney, it is my intention to hire Monroe to draw up the marriage settlement since he is familiar with your inheritance. I shall not touch even a halfpenny of your wealth, Elizabeth. It is yours and yours alone, I promise. However, do you have any objection, should we be so blessed, to leaving Oakwood Manor to a second son or a daughter? I realise your mother and sisters will need a place to live should, God forbid, your father die before all your sisters are happily wed. But it will be quite a while before our children leave home to set up their own nurseries.”

“Agreed. And thank you. However, there will be no meeting tomorrow. I have decided to wait until I have reached my majority to claim my inheritance. In that manner, it may pass to me without the encumbrance of a guardian. Uncle Gardiner has written a letter stating my intention, and he will have it delivered to Mr Monroe first thing in the morning.”

Elizabeth held her head high but fidgeted with her bracelet. “Also, because ownership of Oakwood Manor must remain within my family for a specified number of generations, once we marry and have children, I wish for any sons to somehow bear the name Bennet.”

It took a moment for Mr Darcy to reply; and when he did, it was with a frown. “I trust you mean any sons would be given two Christian names rather than a double family name.”

“If you prefer it, our children still would be Darcys, not Bennet Darcys. However, I should like to have a peace offering to present to my father when I inform him of the cancelled appointment and my intentions.” And so, as it should, begins the compromising between Mr Darcy and me.

Elizabeth watched as her four cousins dragged their uncle to the ground and piled atop him. “I fear this is the last time we shall be together until you come to Hertfordshire with Mr Bingley. I expect Papa, Lydia, and I shall be returning to Longbourn earlier than expected tomorrow.”

“Then I shall take my leave now, unless you wish me to stay. I would be happy to hold your hand while you speak to your father.”

“I would like that, thank you. But your presence at this juncture will only antagonise him further and— Edwin! Stop jumping on your uncle this instant!” With amused frustration, she shook her head. “I should rescue my father. So, my dear Fitzwilliam, I bid you farewell.” At her endearment, Mr Darcy looked upon her with such tender solicitude that she longed for a more intimate leave-taking.

Bending over her hand, he raised it towards his lips. The lightest but exquisite touch upon her skin was interrupted by the exaggerated clearing of her father’s throat.

On Monday morning, the wildly jolting and swaying Bennet carriage rumbled over road surfaces damaged by subsidence, its wheels hitting hard at each hole and rut.

Within, its occupants suffered their own sinking depression. Both daughters were in Mr Bennet’s black book. One was out of favour because he could approve of neither her suitor nor her intention to postpone claiming her inheritance; the other was in disgrace for having been found in Brighton seated upon Mr Wickham’s lap.

Sullen, Lydia had discovered that Mr Darcy was responsible not only for her favourite’s loss of the living in the village of Kympton but that he also had been to blame for her own expeditious removal from a lovely seaside sojourn. Angry and resentful about being abducted by her father, she was not best pleased with Elizabeth either for having brought Mr Darcy back into their lives.

From without came the creaking of leather, thudding of hoofs, jingling of metal rings on harnesses, shouts of the coachman, and the swish of his whip as he urged on the team.

Inside, no one spoke, not even Lydia, which was a blessing even though she probably thought she was punishing her father and sister by withholding her scintillating remarks.

Watching the passing scenery and eager for the awkward carriage ride to end, Elizabeth silently egged on the horses as enthusiastically as the driver; but the ride was rough and the going slow. Due to its clay soil and the heavy loads transported along it, the final section of road between London and Meryton was notoriously bad. The lane from the market town to Longbourn was worse. Blame for that could be laid to her father’s charge. The task of keeping that portion in good repair was beyond him, so he had put very little effort or expense into it.

I imagine the road to Pemberley is in excellent condition due to Mr Darcy’s diligence as a responsible landowner.

Elizabeth’s happy spirits, which seldom had been depressed before, were so much affected that morning as to make it almost impossible for her to appear even tolerably cheerful as they finally pulled up in front of her home. My father’s house.

From rows of lavender in full flower lining the gravel sweep, a herbal scent greeted her. Above, near the eaves, barn swallows swooped, feeding on insects. Chatting, her mother, Jane, Mary, and Kitty filed out of the front door, then greeted the travellers and welcomed them home.

Yes, home. But for how long shall I be welcome here? Elizabeth feared that when she left Longbourn as Mrs Darcy, she might be forbidden from returning. Soon, for me, ‘home’ will mean wherever Mr Darcy is.

“Lydia!” cried Mrs Bennet. “Why on earth are you here? Mr Bennet, what is the meaning of this? Why is she not in Brighton still? Oh, my nerves! My dear girl, are you unwell? Did the Forsters treat you poorly?”

“Mama, my heart is broken. Papa tore me away from all my friends and admirers, and I shall tell you about it once I have had something to eat, for I have not slept nor eaten anything worth mentioning since Friday night. When I awoke this morning, I was allowed only a roll and a cup of tea before we left town. Then at the coaching inn, we had only a crust of bread, a scrap of meat, and hard cheese. I am famished.”

“Well, I have news of a happier sort, Lydia,” said Mrs Bennet, patting her favourite daughter’s arm. “Netherfield is being opened anew, which means Mr Bingley is coming back for our dear Jane.”