Mr and Mrs Darcy 02 Suspense & Sensibility (8 page)

"Yes, but for another reason entirely. My twenty-first birthday approaches,
and I've decided to celebrate with a country house party at Norland. It is my
dearest hope, Miss Bennet, that you and your family will honor me with your
company."

"Lizzy, may we go? Do say we might!"

Elizabeth cast Kitty a mild look that bade her show a little restraint.

"The grand fete will be Friday the thirtieth," Mr. Dashwood
continued. "I am inviting most of the guests to arrive on Wednesday, but I
would be delighted if you could come on Tuesday so that I might show Miss
Bennet - show all four of you - Norland before the house becomes crowded."

Kitty held her tongue but now begged just as passionately with her eyes.

Of course they would attend. Elizabeth would hardly deny Kitty the opportunity
to see the home of a man with whom she seemed to be forming an attachment. But,
wanting to keep her younger sister in suspense a bit longer, she glanced to
Darcy. "That is after Easter. Does not the London season pick up once Lent
has passed?"

"It does. There will be balls, and masquerades, and many more
routs."

She nodded gravely. "Perhaps we ought not leave town just as much
of the
ton
is arriving."

Kitty appeared ready to burst. "Oh, forget the silly
ton!"

Elizabeth raised her brows, her astonishment only half-exaggerated. That
statement would never have issued from her
sister's
lips two weeks earlier. "Are you not afraid of missing something momentous
in our absence?"

"For heaven's sake, Lizzy! What could be more exciting than
visiting Norland and celebrating Mr. Dashwood's birthday?"

Mr. Dashwood, who had been following the exchange with amusement, seemed
gratified by Kitty's eagerness.

"I cannot imagine." Elizabeth, unwilling to prolong Kitty's
torment further, smiled. "We happily accept your invitation, Mr. Dashwood."

Harry's face broke into an expression of elation. "I hope Norland
offers much to interest you all. And should its pleasures prove insufficient,
Brighton is not far."

"Brighton? I have always longed to go to Brighton! Lizzy, might we
- "

"Norland, yes. Brighton, no," Darcy declared.

Elizabeth concurred. As far as she was concerned, their family had experienced
quite enough of Brighton, the scene of Lydia's disgrace. Though the Prince
Regent's fondness for the seaside resort drew the fashionable to it in flocks,
Elizabeth had no desire ever to lay eyes on the place.

Kitty released a sigh of resignation. "I suppose it is too cold yet
for seabathing anyway"

"Perhaps on a future visit," said Mr. Dashwood.

The implication that Kitty would be spending more time in Sussex eradicated
her remaining disappointment. Anticipation lit her features once more. "I
should like that."

Mr. Dashwood, his attention now focused entirely on Kitty, failed to notice
Darcy studying him. Darcy's countenance was open, yet assessing, and Elizabeth
wondered how Mr. Dashwood was faring in the evaluation. She rather liked him
herself, and wanted to distract Darcy before their guest sensed he was on
trial.

Playfulness still dominating her mood, she turned to Harry. "Mr.
Dashwood, my husband has developed quite an interest in
hunting of
late. Since meeting Lord Hartford, he simply cannot hear enough sporting talk.
Does Norland offer good quarry?"

She felt Darcy's gaze shift to her. His expression thanked her profusely
for reminding him of the longest social call he'd ever endured, and promised
she'd pay for her raillery later. She responded with wide-eyed innocence.

"Yes, indeed! In fact, I plan numerous hunts and shooting outings
during the week of the party. Are you partial to any particular game, Mr.
Darcy?"

"No," he said, his eyes still on Elizabeth. The slightest
smile played at the corners of his mouth. "But apparently my wife is."

Mr. Dash wood, mistaking Darcy's meaning of "game," regarded
Elizabeth with surprise. "Do you hunt, Mrs. Darcy? We shall be too late
for prime fox season, of course, but the pack will still give us a good run."

She laughed. "I find it difficult enough to maintain my balance in
a sidesaddle on flat ground."

"You are a better rider than that," Georgiana asserted.

Elizabeth realized Darcy's sister had said little during the meal.
Though handsome and accomplished by even the strictest standards, Miss Darcy
disliked drawing notice and participated in many conversations primarily as an
attentive listener. Some erroneously perceived her silence as arrogance, but
Elizabeth recognized it as simple shyness.

"It is kind of you to say so," Elizabeth said. "Nevertheless,
if I ever tried to hunt, I no doubt would fall off my mount while jumping the
first ox fence. You, on the other hand, could probably manage fairly well.
Better than I, at least."

Georgiana ducked her head at the praise of her equestrian skills. "I
would have to stop before the fox was treed, for I do not think I could witness
what follows."

"Neither could I!" Kitty exclaimed. "I couldn't bear to
see the poor fox set upon by hounds and killed."

"That is precisely why foxhunting is an inappropriate pastime
for ladies," Darcy said. "Blood
sport runs counter to their gentle natures."

Elizabeth
thought about many of the well-bred women who occupied society's highest ranks,
and chuckled softly. "Ladies are quite capable of blood sport, darling.
Their field is the drawing room."

After
dinner, the gentlemen withdrew to the library. Darcy offered Mr. Dashwood a
glass of port, then took his customary chair beside the fire. Though invited to
avail himself of the seat opposite, Mr. Dashwood instead perused the titles
lining the walls.

"Homer,
Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Johnson, Wordsworth... You have an impressive
collection."

"I keep
some favorite volumes here. Pemberley's library is far more extensive. Whenever
I come to town for long periods of time, I bring additional books for study and
pleasure - and visit booksellers to add to the shelves."

A row of
novels caught Mr. Dashwood's eye. He traced their spines with his fingertip. "Mrs.
Lennox, Mrs. Burney, Mrs. Rad-cliffe." He selected a volume and thumbed
its pages.

"Those
belong to Georgiana and my wife. Do you have a large library at Norland?"

Mr. Dashwood
frowned. "I'm not sure, come to think on it. Oh, the room's big enough,
but as for what occupies its shelves, I have little idea. I don't think I've
been inside above half a dozen times."

"Six
times in your whole life?" Darcy could scarcely comprehend such a thing.
His own thirst for knowledge, the lessons of his private tutor, and hours spent
at his father's elbow learning to administer their estate had seen him
practically raised in Pemberley's library. Economics, business, law,
literature,
philosophy - only Cambridge had offered more wisdom than that room
contained.

Mr. Dashwood shrugged. "When I was a child, my lessons were in the
nursery, of course. Then it was off to Eton and Oxford. I was seldom home, and
when I was, the library was the last place that held any interest for me."

"Your father conducted all his instruction in the field then? My
own father did a good deal of that, too."

Darcy's father had been a strong advocate of direct experience, encouraging
his son to talk with tenants and occasionally get his hands dirty as he
prepared to one day assume the responsibilities of a landlord. He'd believed a
man who has never seen a calf born or rubbed soil between his fingers cannot
ever truly understand the principles of agriculture. One's status as a
gentleman might free him from toiling to survive, but the best landlords were
at least passingly familiar with the land and people in their care.

"Instruction? I don't understand you, sir."

"Training you to take over for him eventually."

Mr. Dashwood replaced the book on the shelf. "We seldom talked about
Norland. Or much else."

"You were not close?"

"Not especially." He moved toward the fire. "As soon as I
could read, my parents sent me off to obtain a gentleman's education. Each
month, I received a parcel containing an allowance and a letter from my mother
expressing her hope that I was cultivating the right sort of acquaintances and
conducting myself in a manner that promoted our family's reputation. So long as
I met their expectations, they left me to myself. I suppose my father would
have explained a few matters about estate management to me had I ever asked -
it seemed at times that money was all he ever talked about - but I never asked.
I was content to simply enjoy the privileges of wealth without any responsibilities."

"And
now?"

Mr. Dashwood
studied Darcy, seeming to weigh how much more he cared to reveal about himself
to the sponsor of a woman he hoped to court. "Now I find myself in
possession of an estate I know little about," he said finally.

"You
certainly are not the first gentleman to discover himself ill prepared to
govern his affairs." Darcy could think of many estates that had fallen
into mismanagement by heirs who lacked the interest or aptitude to properly
administer them. It reflected well on Mr. Dashwood that he had recognized this
failing in himself, particularly at such a young age. As Harry had owned
Norland for only a few months, Darcy hoped his indifference had been of a
duration too short to cause damage. "The question is, how do you intend to
correct that deficiency?"

"I hadn't
planned to do anything about it. None of my friends seem to pay the least
attention to such matters - if they own land at all, they just leave everything
in the hands of their solicitors and stewards. And I don't know that I really
have the temperament to supervise so many little details."

He took a
chair, perching on the edge of the seat and leaning toward Darcy. "But
this past week, I roamed all over Norland, from its attics to its parkland. I
thought about what it would be like to show it to Miss Bennet, to see it
through the eyes of someone beholding it for the first time. I wanted it to be
a place that would impress her. And then I realized that in wanting her
approval of Norland, what I really sought was her approval of me. That when I
inherited Norland, it became as much a part of me as any other possession, a
representation to the world of who I am. And just as I would never neglect my
appearance or my manners, neither can I afford to neglect my estate."

Darcy would
hardly have equated the importance of overseeing Pemberley with that of
selecting a waistcoat, but if that mode of thinking had led Mr. Dashwood to a
fuller cognizance
of his responsibilities as a landholder, he
could not criticize the comparison.

"In my experience, a good steward is invaluable," he
suggested. "Though your father is gone, perhaps your steward can educate
you. He will likely be gratified by your interest in Norland."

"Or threatened by it."

"An honest man would not be so."

"Unfortunately, I'm not entirely confident that I'm dealing with an
honest man." He took a swallow of port. "I spent some time this week
reviewing Norland's accounts for the period since my father's death. I'd never
looked at the record books before, so I had trouble making sense of them. When
I went to our steward with questions, he became defensive."

Darcy frowned. "Do you believe he cheats you?"

"I don't know what to believe. He has been at Norland since I was a
boy. I never had cause to deal with him while my father was alive. I doubt,
however, that my father would have retained a steward he didn't trust."

"He might simply resent a young, inexperienced new master
questioning his work. Though I had assisted my father for years, I encountered
that prejudice among some of my older tenants when he passed away."

"Truly? You, Mr. Darcy?"

"Why should that surprise you?"

"You are a man born to run an estate."

"If you have inherited one, then so are you."

He smiled ruefully. "I suppose I am. You, however, know what you
are doing, while I do not."

"Then you must change that."

Dash wood swirled the port around in his glass, his face pensive. "Mr.
Darcy, I wonder if I might impose upon you to - that is, when you come to
Norland, if you would take a look at the
accounts and advise me as to whether
everything appears in order?"

"Certainly.
Not being familiar with Norland will limit my ability to detect
inconsistencies, but I will determine what I can."

"I am
most grateful for your help, sir."

Darcy
hesitated, not wanting to insinuate himself further into Harry's affairs than
he'd been invited. But he was pleased to see the younger man taking an interest
in his new responsibilities and wanted to encourage him. "If you like, Mr.
Dash-wood, I would be happy to explain the records to you so that in the future
you can make you own determinations."