Page 14 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
“Since Lydia’s birth and the doctor’s news your mother would bear no more children, I’ve not bolstered them on the solstice.”
“Why do you hide your magic, Papa?”
He leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands across a still trim stomach. “I found I enjoyed being a country gentleman.” At her lifted eyebrow, he chuckled. “I left that life long ago, my little Lizzy, and to go back to what I was seems redundant. Besides, could you imagine your mother if she knew she was a titled lady in her own right?” He shuddered in his chair. “No. We are Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn, parents to five lovely daughters who need to marry well so their Mama will not end up in the hedgerows.”
“Papa!”
He laughed. “I will tell you this. Your mother has no need to worry. I have quite a lot of money safely invested with your Uncle Gardiner. He is the only other person, beside yourself, who knows my birth name. He doesn’t understand my need for secrecy, but keeps it anyway.”
A random thought skittered through her mind and her father chuckled once again.
“Yes, daughter. This is one of the reasons why I hate Town. The remaining members of theton, who are Miatharan, know me, or rather Viscount Benoit, and I don’t care to prance around in court clothes when I can stay in my book room and read Cowper.”
“How did I end up with powers if you took steps to ensure this shouldn’t happen?”
“I’ve thought about this long and hard. Given the length of time between Jane’s birth and yours, you were conceived in France. Several things aided in your unique inception. First, the soil around my father’s villa is, or was, seeped in magic. Second, your mother may have removed her wedding band for one reason or another and in our youthful passion I did not notice it.”
Lizzy’s cheeks flamed at her father speaking of passion in the same breath he spoke of her mother, but then she remembered her dream and how carried away she became when Fitzwilliam Darcy became undone and kissed her so enthusiastically. If a dream were that potent, imagine what the real thing would be like.
The next morning brought a note to Longbourn. As she read the short missive, frustration became her companion at the breakfast table.
“Jane is ill with a sore throat. Her ‘kind’ friends insist upon her seeing Mr. Jones.”
“Well, my dear,” Papa said over his kippers, “If your daughter should die, it will be of comfort to know she did so in the pursuit of Mr. Bingley under your orders.”
“Oh, piffle.” Mama waved a hand in the air. “People do not die of a trifling cold.”
“I will go see Jane.” Elizabeth said. Her agitation with her mother was so great, she almost crushed the note in her hand.
Although Mama argued against her leaving, Lizzy soon found herself walking with Lydia and Kitty, who departed her company once they reached Meryton. She continued alone, crossing fields at a quick pace and arrived at Netherfield with no thought of her dirty stockings, unruly curls which refused to stay within the confines of her bonnet, and a face glowing from much exercise. It was only when she was shown into the breakfast parlor, where all but Jane were assembled, did she realize what a sight she must make. Convinced they held nothing but contempt for her company anyway, Mr. Bingley excluded of course, she raised her head proudly and asked how her sister was.
~~oo0oo~~
“Do you have any requests for dinner, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, Miss Bingley. Whatever you choose is satisfactory.”
Since his caustic remarks at Lucas Lodge, Darcy had taken great care to make sure he was never alone with his friend’s sister and that their conversation never went beyond common banalities. However, between the hours spent at Pemberley poring over old tomes and maintaining the appearance he was guest at his leisure while showing Charles how to manage a small estate, his control was reaching its zenith. In no way was he prepared to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet in the breakfast parlor of Netherfield. Especially not after the rather erotic dream he’d had the night previous. No music. No ballroom. Just he and Elizabeth performing an intimate dance men and women had been doing since the age of time. His body tightened at her disheveled sight and although politeness dictate he rise to his feet when she entered the room, he took great care to move behind the chair to hide his desire.
“Miss Eliza, you walked all the way to Netherfield?”
“I did.”
“Why, that’s almost three miles!”
“Only about two and half if you avoid the road.”
“You mean to say you traipsed across the fields?”
“I did.”
While the sisters grilled Elizabeth over how she arrived, Darcy and Bingley resumed their seats, and Hurst left to take care of some correspondence. For himself, he quickly covered his lap with a napkin and tried to enjoy the remains of his breakfast.
“I’d like to see Jane now, if I may.”
“Of course, let me escort you to her room.”
Charles leapt to his feet and ushered her out the door while Miss Bingley scowled. As they exited the room Charles could be heard to say that Miss Bennet had slept ill and was not well enough to return home. Soon their voices faded and Darcy was left alone with the sisters. The silence was deafening broken only by the jangling of Mrs. Hurst’s bracelets as she sipped her tea. He counted to one hundred, in Latin, and then stood.
