Page 2 of A Promise Made

“I recall. I am not looking forward to grim, grimmer—and especially not substantial length. But, please, do get to it.” Again, Mr Bennet’s tone was puzzlingly…sardonic.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy began, “Around a decade ago, specifically, on the twenty-eighth of September, in the year 1796, my father and I were travelling to visit my father’s friend, Mr Saunders.”

Darcy noted that Mr Bennet had lost all trace of irony or any sort of good humour.

Darcy continued his narrative. “We were one mile away from Mr Saunders’s estate, Netherfield Park, when the driver suffered an apoplexy, causing him to lose control of the carriage. The ensuing collision with a small boulder and a tree did not harm my father, and the footman and tiger jumped clear as well, but the driver and one of the horses died, and I was badly injured. I am told that I screamed for several seconds before passing out, and the footman rode the horse that survived to Netherfield to ask for help. He was directed by the butler to ride here, to Longbourn, to fetch a physician, even as servants and Mr Saunders began to rush to the scene of the accident to help where they could.”

Mr Bennet’s eyes were wide, and Darcy wondered if he had never before learnt the series of events that had led to his own family’s loss.

The older man lurched to his feet and moved to the side table where a bottle and two glasses sat. He poured a couple of fingers of amber liquid—probably brandy—into one of the glasses and offered it to Darcy. It was not yet noon, so Darcy shook his head. Mr Bennet drank it off at a draught and then returned to his chair behind the desk, apparently fortified to hear more.

Darcy said softly, “The footman, a young man named Charles, was extremely emotional because he had just seen the deaths of a man he respected and a horse he often rode, and because the heir of the estate he served had sustained an unknown injury. He likely told the physician that a youth of twelve was gravely injured and might die.”

Mr Bennet sighed. His face remained frozen in a sort of blank look.

“In actual fact, however, my injury was agonising but not fatal, and especially while unconscious I could have waited an hour or more for a physician or a surgeon-apothecary.”

Mr Bennet finally spoke—albeit in a rasping sort of whisper, “I am certain your footman did not know the nature or extent of your injury and could not be blamed.”

Nodding, Darcy continued, “After the accident, my father did not hear anything about your family. He was apparently very busy. He organised my care at Netherfield while I healed enough to be moved to London. My father worked at a distance with his steward to alert the family of his deceased driver and to settle them so that they would want for nothing despite the loss of his income. He had to find a new driver who would be as reliable as the man who had died, and once he hired a new driver, he had to go to Derbyshire to fetch my mother and baby sister.”

Mr Bennet’s blank eyes snapped into focus when Darcy said the word baby.

Darcy could not help but wince, but he continued, “It was years before my father learnt of the existence of your family and of your loss. The moment he heard about it, my father took responsibility for the resulting tragedy and was determined to help. However, the timing was terrible. He became ill and, after months of ill health, he died.”

Mr Bennet mumbled, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, sir. As I am extremely sorry for yours. My father ran out of time to help you personally, but he told me about your situation, and he made me promise that I would do what I could to help you. I have in these papers a four-step plan I wish to propose.”

Mr Bennet looked shocked but not, Darcy thought, affronted. Darcy began to go through the papers his solicitors had drawn up, and he explained the ideas on offer.

Chapter Two

Elizabeth Bennet did not much like the look of the young man her father introduced at tea.

Well, to be more accurate, Lizzy adored the look of the man. He was tall, his hair and eyes were very dark, which was the epitome of heroic male beauty in the novels she sometimes read, and his features were…how to describe them? Finely chiseled, perhaps.

But the man—Mr Darcy was his name—seemed very stuffy. Perhaps arrogant. Certainly far too sure of himself.

And he had not smiled once.

Something about the way Papa regarded this Mr Darcy—the way that he spoke to him—seemed disturbing. It was as if her father was deferring to this much younger man, even though her father was the owner of their estate, which had been the seat of the Bennet family for more than a century. Lizzy was used to her father’s aloof humour about their neighbours and acquaintances. She was used to her father outsmarting one and all…. Why was he acting as if this fellow was someone special?

Her mother gushed, “Oh, Mr Darcy, your carriage is beautiful. I do admire a fine Japan varnish!”

The man blushed—which was not very heroic nor very male of him, in Lizzy’s eyes. He said, “Thank you. It was my father’s favourite carriage.”

The way her mother smiled with satisfaction told Lizzy that her mother had decided that Mr Darcy was wealthy. Lizzy further considered her mother’s smile and formed a theory. Mr Darcy had referred to his father in past tense. So…despite his youth, it seemed probable that his father was gone and he had inherited whatever land or investments their wealthy family owned.

It was very like her mother to vocally admire something expensive—sometimes, she was so extravagantly complimentary of costly items, Lizzy found herself mortified—and it was very like her mother to ask leading questions or make statements that gained her knowledge about a person’s financial standing.

But Papa did not defer to mere wealth and supposed “consequence.” He laughed at others’ pretensions. He far more valued cleverness and knowledge than money and station.

When the food and dishes from the extensive tea had been cleared away and Lizzy was hoping that Mr Darcy would leave, her father stood and addressed the entire family. “Mr Darcy is going to be helping with the estate, and I thought that I should point out that you might be seeing him here in the house, or in the fields or nearby paths.”

He turned to each daughter as he addressed them: “Jane and Lizzy, you might run into him when you visit tenants. Lizzy, you might see him when you take your walks. Lydia and Kitty, you might see him in Meryton. Mary, I imagine you will see him very little, even here in the house, since your nose is always in a book.” He chuckled at his own joke, but nobody else laughed.

Lizzy’s father finished up by sweeping the whole family with a look. “I wish to assure all of you that Mr Darcy is here with my knowledge and blessing, and that he is here with good intentions. If he asks you a question, be helpful; go above and beyond to answer fully and truthfully. I know you will not embarrass me.”