Page 15 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
“Excuse me, ladies, I must get ready for the day.”
After a polite nod of the head he strode as quickly as possible across the room toward the staircase. Before he’d even crossed the vestibule, Charles came bounding down the stairs, grinning from ear to ear.
“Are we off now, Darcy?”
“Aye. Have you asked Mrs. Nichols to pack us some food?”
“I thought we’d return here for our midday meal.”
Darcy knew Charles hoped for a glimpse of the fair Miss Bennet and his control slipped just a tad closer to its peak. If he stayed here, he might see Elizabeth, and although he knew she’d never be his wife, he couldn’t vouch for his self control when near her. Also, the Wickham issue was no where near resolved and the cad wasn’t expected to arrive in Meryton until next week at the earliest.
“Charles, we are riding out to the northern boundary, checking fences and boundary walls with no time to ride back until sundown.” At his crestfallen face he almost relented, but the swish of silk behind him warned of Miss Bingley’s approach and he had absolutely no desire to be in her company, even for an hour. “If we do not tarry, we might finish before it’s dark and you can be at your leisure to check on your guest’s progress before dinner.”
It took another forty-five minutes before they were finally crossing the verdant fields which surrounded Netherfield Park. Although a bit run down from lack of a proper master, the estate held much promise and Darcy did the best he could in such a short amount of time to educate Bingley on what he needed to run such an enterprise. Away from the alluring pull of both Miss Bennet’s the men enjoyed their day and he was reminded of how good Bingley was when it came to management of time and people. Beneath his open and congenial veneer lay an astute business man. He quickly grasped what was needed to make Netherfield prosper and before the day was out had offered a few suggestions of his own to increase profitability from some of the fields and tenant farms. If only he applied these sentiments toward his sister, Darcy thought more than once.
The sun had begun its final descent, throwing shades of red and pink onto the horizon when they and their weary horses cantered up to the stable. He brushed down his faithful stallion and agreed to meet Charles in the parlor before dining. He’d no sooner entered his bed chamber than Richard strode in from the valet’s room.
“Good, you’re back. I was beginning to worry you’d never come home.”
“This is not home.”
“Don’t be daft, it was a figure of speech. I waited because I know you’re interested in our mutual friend, Wickham.”
“Never say he is my friend. Wickham and friend should never be thrown together in a sentence, unless you are teaching someone about opposites, like black and white, or love and hate.”
“Fine. How about mutual acquaintance?”
“No.” Darcy tugged at his cravat and threw it onto his dresser. “Move along Richard, I’m in no mood for any humor.”
“What’s new with that?” At his glare, Richard lifted his hands as though in surrender. “Okay, okay. No more. I hate him as much as you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Nay, Darcy.” Richard laid a hand on his forearm and gripped tight. “I love Georgiana as a sister and my anger runs deep and fast. I only manage it better than you as I’ve had years of practice on the battlefield.”
Darcy looked deep into his cousin’s eyes and saw truth. He gripped Richard’s forearms as their ancestors used to do when they pledged fealty. “I’m grateful you are in this with me. We will vanquish Wickham and rid England of this scourge.”
“Your wish is my command. I stand behind, I stand before, I stand with. My life for yours.” Richard said the old words with much solemnity. “You are my liege and I pledge to follow.”
Darcy covered the hand Richard gripped his forearm with and squeezed. “I am no longer royalty, Richard. We gave that up when our ancestor D’Arcy came over with William from Normandy, and he ascended to the throne, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Be that as it may, I stand by my pledge.”
They released their grips and moved apart.
Chapter Six
Darcy paced in his bedchamber.
This would not do!
The past three nights Elizabeth Bennet had slumbered peacefully down the hall while he writhed in agony on his bed, willing himself to stay within the confines of his own bedchamber. He’d dared not enter her dreams again, knowing that she maintained a memory of them and exhibited physical manifestations, of which he still did not understand. She couldn’t possibly have magic as Miatharans were of noble blood, and all of his findings concluded the Bennet’s were not of their class. Hudson, his valet, had tried giving him soothing teas and other remedies for insomnia but he knew his only relief would come when she was safely ensconced within his arms night after night until they were both old and gray. He’d been torn between casting a healing spell on Jane Bennet so she and her sister could leave for Longbourn sooner, or casting a spell so she’d take a turn for the worse and have to stay longer, tying her beloved sister to her side and within his purview every day.
Bloody hell!
He turned and paced back toward the window and gazed outside, seeing nothing as his thoughts were consumed with Elizabeth. Part of his frustration was that she held him at arms length, behaving with the utmost propriety, which the same couldn’t be said for Miss Bingley. As he wrote to his sister, she exclaimed he wrote uncommonly fast, went into raptures over his sister and how she ‘longed’ to see her again - which was not reciprocated in any way shape or form - and had the audacity to offer to mend his pen. When not proclaiming that everything about the Darcy family was all glitter and gold, she contemptuously belittled Elizabeth in so many ways he’d been sorely tempted to tell her, again, exactly what he thought. However, Elizabeth deftly warded off all attacks and gave back as good as she got, although Miss Bingley was completely ignorant of how often, and how successfully she’d been insulted. As it remained, he was surprised his teeth weren’t ground to mere stumps by how hard he clenched his jaw to keep from speaking out in Elizabeth’s defense.
The stark contrast between the two became glaringly apparent the previous evening when he’d ignored Miss Bingley completely and read a book. With an abruptness, which startled everyone, she insisted Elizabeth parade about the room with her. In some small-minded way, she knew the only way his eyes would follow her was if Elizabeth remained tethered to her side. And they had. He’d unconsciously closed his book and watched them, appreciating how Elizabeth’s gown moved over her body, following every luscious line, caressing her skin like a lover. Upon noticing his attention, Miss Bingley immediately invited him to join them. Not trusting himself to stand so near his beloved, he’d politely declined and when Richard, the imp, interrupted his thoughts with a bawdy remark, he almost blurted out his affection but covered by saying the ladies had only but two motives for choosing to walk about and his joining them would only interfere.
