One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (28 page)

Richard folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, waiting for Darcy to continue.

“Let me tell you a little more of the Bennets.” Darcy resumed. “The second eldest…”

“Elizabeth.” Richard confirmed.

Darcy nodded. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Darcy swallowed and tugged at his cravat. “The second eldest, Miss Elizabeth Bennet....”

“I believe you have established her name and position,” Richard said smugly, “and that Mr. Collins has singled her out.”

Darcy turned red. Richard grinned and added, “And that she has a myriad of charms to recommend her. And that she is lovely.”

Darcy looked at his cousin helplessly and spoke so softly as to barely be heard, marking his statement with a nearly imperceptible shake of the head. “I do not know what to do, Richard. She has bewitched me.”

At this, Richard's jaw fell open, a gaping hole from which no words or laughter could escape. Finally, Richard composed himself, closed his mouth, crossed his leg and waited for Darcy to continue.

“She is unlike any woman I have ever met.” Darcy finally said.

“I would expect no less,” Richard replied, “of a woman capable of bewitching the impenetrable heart of Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“I am not made of stone, Richard.” Darcy replied.

“I will be sure to put an end to those rumors at my earliest convenience.” Richard said. “But you have told me nothing of her. If I am to meet her, I think you must prepare me, lest I too am smitten by her charms. You may be able to fend this Collins fellow off, but I could give you a challenge if you do not persuade me against it.”

Darcy smiled. “I thought her rather ordinary when I first met her. I cannot recall why.”

Richard nodded his head encouragingly.

“She is artless, yet so witty and intelligent that I was soon captivated by whatever she said.”

“A good beginning, to be sure.” Richard nodded. “Is she an accomplished woman?”

“She plays the pianoforte some, and when she sings, her air is unaffected and natural—her voice is angelic. It pierces me to the soul.”

“Pierces you?” Richard seemed impressed. “And what of her manners?”

Darcy smiled. “In company, she has a way of putting others at ease—including me.”

“This is interesting.” Richard laughed. “I wonder how she managed it.”

Darcy shook his head, with no answer to the question. “She is not afraid of me. She has laughed at me even, and she actually refused let me walk her home. Twice. She declined to dance with me as well.”

“I like this girl!” Richard exclaimed. “She is not daunted by your imperious manner? Do you think we could perhaps recruit her to join the King’s Army? If her heart does not fail her with you, she is braver than half the men in my regiment!”

Darcy rolled his eyes impatiently. “Richard, I am warning you.”

Richard put his hands up in surrender. “She is braver than I as well!”

Darcy laughed. “I think she
 
is
 
brave. And she is kind—to her sisters, and upon observation, to everyone she knows.”

“Has she been kind to you, Cousin?” Richard's eyebrows emphasized his query.

“If torture can be considered kindness, she has been exceedingly so.” Darcy half laughed, half grumbled.

“What means of torture has she employed?” Richard looked as though he enjoyed the question too much.

“She has made me love her, Richard. I am undone.” Darcy looked miserable.

“That is wonderful!” Richard exclaimed. “What have you done with Collins?”

“I have not acted on my attachment to Miss Bennet. There were complicating factors.” Darcy shrugged. “She does not know of my affections.”

“So you are made of stone after all,” Richard said softly.

“She has no fortune, Richard. She has no connections. Her family ... well, to put it in the mildest terms, country manners can be rather ... irregular by the standards of polite society.” Darcy frowned.

“Shocking.” Richard mocked him.

“Stop that.” Darcy put his head in his hands, his elbows rested on his thighs. “I have struggled as you can never know to repress my feelings for Miss Bennet. It will not do. It has all been in vain.”

“Why in heavens name would you do that?” Richard asked sincerely. “Do you need more money?”

Darcy, head still in his hands, shook it. “No.”

“Are your connections lacking? Is being my cousin not enough for you?” Richard asked.

Darcy raised his head up and glared at Richard.

“Some would say that country manners are charming.” Richard grinned.

“Aunt Catherine would not say so.” Darcy countered.

“Oh!” Richard cried, “I have been so captivated by the tale of Miss Bennet that I nearly forgot to tell you. I saw Aunt Catherine in London yesterday.” Richard looked as if he would burst. “I have never seen her so...,” he stopped speaking, puckered his faced and looked at the ceiling mid-sentence.

“So ... what?” Darcy finally asked impatiently.

Richard shrugged. “... enraged. She has been blocked at every turn. She personally went to the Bow Street Police Office and demanded that they find you and deliver you to her.”

“What?” Darcy shouted abruptly.

“They ejected her from the Police Office. She was
 
most seriously displeased
. I do not envy you when she finally catches up with you. She also seems to have some sort of quarrel with Miss Bingley.” Richard enjoyed delivering the news immensely. “I do not believe she has any idea of Miss Bennet.”

“Au contraire.” Darcy said. “Aunt Catherine is the one who told Mr. Collins that Elizabeth Bennet would make him a fine wife.”

“This just gets better and better.” Richard clapped his hands. “Can we go to tea now?”

Darcy looked skeptically at his cousin. “You had better behave yourself, Fitz!”

“I know you're really serious when you call me that.” Richard laughed. “So let's see, at tea today, there will be, five Bennet sisters and I assume their mother. Then we have Wickham, Collins, Bingley, you, and me?”

“Possibly Mr. Bennet and two other officers from the militia I believe.” Darcy nodded. “You outrank them of course.”

“That's how I like it.” Richard laughed heartily rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Never underestimate the power of rank, cousin. You may have a massive fortune, but I believe I outrank even you!”

“And you never allow me to forget it.” Darcy laughed. “It is truly a wonder they let you command. Do they realize how very juvenile you are?”

“Of course not, Darcy.” Richard shook his head. “Does Miss Bennet realize you are not an arrogant brute?”

“Miss Bennet is very bright, and she does not suffer from a lack of understanding.” Darcy paused, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Except when it comes to me. I have hinted broadly more than once that I admire her, yet I have failed to impress—which is, I admit, for the best.”

“Do you believe she holds any particular regard for Mr. Collins? Perhaps she does not understand because her heart is not free to do so.” Richard speculated.

“No.” Darcy replied. “She holds no attachment for him, but may feel an obligation to her family due to the entailment. When you meet them, I am certain you will agree on this count.”

“Do you have any idea of her liking you?” Richard asked.

“It is difficult to discern. In some ways, I wonder if I am as blind to her feelings as she is to mine. I see clues that she may like me, yet they are confusing at best. I saw her this morning, walking. We conversed briefly, and I thought it was going well. Then she did the most astonishing thing. She ran away from me.”

“What did you do?” Richard asked, amused once again.

“I had no alternative but to chase her.” Darcy replied.

“No alternative?” Richard raised an eyebrow. “You were
 
forced
 
to chase a lady?”

“She had my dog.” Darcy glared at his cousin. “That is to say, the dog ran off with her.”

“I must say that your approach to wooing is unique.” Richard chuckled. “I am most eager to meet the lady who has inspired my cousin to take chase. Can we go now? I find myself very, very thirsty.”

“I will get you some water,” Darcy replied, “or some wine.”

“Only tea will do, Cousin.” Richard laughed. “Only tea will do!”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

You, Me and a Cup of Tea

M
ake haste! Make haste!” The Bennet household had echoed with the phrase all morning.
 
Mrs. Bennet, who Elizabeth was certain would be hoarse before teatime arrived, was in her element. Three officers of the militia had accepted Lydia's invitation to tea, and the prospect of gentlemen callers, most particularly dashing red-coated officers, set the heart of the mother of five unmarried daughters aflutter. When she added their eligible houseguest, Mr. Collins, and the most excellent Mr. Bingley to the guest list, their gentlemen callers were equal in number to her daughters. Mrs. Bennet was certain their prospects would be raised from the single occasion alone.

She considered the possibility that Mr. Bingley would bring his friend, Mr. Darcy, with him, and hoping that her husband would elect to join their party for tea, she made certain to provide ample seating in the sitting room, where they would entertain. This had caused some degree of last-minute furniture rearranging in order to provide multiple intimate conversation areas, in which the men might become better acquainted with her daughters. She was quite satisfied with the result.

With the house at the ready and preparations for the refreshments complete, Mrs. Bennet turned her attentions to her daughters. She summoned them all individually for private inspection, giving each her approval or directions for making themselves more suitably outfitted for the occasion. Only Lizzy gave her any trouble, and she sent her second eldest back to her room with the maid to redo her toilette in a more feminine, alluring way, over Elizabeth's objections that mid-day tea did not require primping equal to a ball.

Mary, her mother was surprised to note, had blossomed considerably in recent days, having simultaneously discovered curls, lace and smiling, evincing a subtle yet distinct softening of her formerly staid appearance and demeanor. Mrs. Bennet congratulated herself on persevering with the daughter who had seemed a lost cause and thought that she would do well to marry an officer.

Mr. Collins had made himself scarce during the commotion, preferring the solitude of his guest quarters to the uproar of a household of incomprehensible females.

Fifteen minutes before the appointed hour, Lydia and Kitty could be found pacing and giggling in front of the second-floor window at the front of the house. The youthful residents knew this spot as 'the crow's nest', a name Elizabeth had bestowed at the age of twelve, during a period of fascination with pirates. The window, which afforded the best view of the road from Meryton, was wide enough for all five sisters to peer out together if two sat on the sill.

The cry soon went up from Lydia that the officers were not far off, creating a flurry of activity. Doors were slammed, stairs were rapidly traversed, pictures that were not crooked were straightened, and all members of the household, including Mr. Bennet, were convened in the sitting room forthwith.

Mr. Collins’ entry into the sitting room had been unusually vigorous. Coming through the threshold, he launched himself with the clear intent to acquire the seat next to Elizabeth, with the surety of a bolt flung from a bow. He was intercepted by another female cousin, Mary Bennet, who, upon the man's catapult toward her sister, leapt from her seat with earnest intent to redirect his trajectory. This she accomplished by exclaiming his name with great force, causing him to draw up with a degree of shock. Having thus engaged his attention, she sweetly, yet with a hint of sternness, informed him that she gravely needed to obtain his counsel on a personal dilemma and required his attendance to that end.