Page 48 of May I Have the Pleasure
When they entered the Mayfair area, which he had visited with university chums during his sojourn at Oxford, he became almost certain of their destination. They stopped at astately house on a street he did not recognise, at least a dozen steps above his station in life.
Just to repay peevishness with peevishness, he exited the coach and neglected to hand his silent-as-the-tomb daughter down. She spoiled his amusement by jumping down with alacrity and did not appear surprised by his pettiness—apparently only riding inside the coach because it was expected, (not to mention cold).
The knocker was off the door, but Elizabeth was not intimidated. She simply grabbed her father’s walking stick, unconcerned if she knocked him down the steps in the process and reached out to bang on the door. She was saved the trouble when it opened suddenly. She avoided bashing the butler in the head, but it was a near thing.
While Bennet looked on in amusement, Elizabeth, without a by your leave, reached into his pocket to extract a card, and handed it to the butler.
“Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet to see Mr Darcy on a matter of some urgency.”
The butler gave him the haughty, stone-faced near frown she assumed was taught in butler school. “I will see if the master is available. Pray, step this way.”
Elizabeth reflected she would not have been surprised if the man left them cooling their heels on the steps, but then supposed such an action would reflect worse on the master than the visitors.
The butler returned a few minutes later, trailed by a maid who took their wraps and gloves, then gestured them to follow him.
They arrived at a largish parlour decorated mostly in blues and greens. The furniture was expensive but not ostentatious. It bespoke calm elegance and generational wealth far more clearly than the garish displays common to new money (like the Bingleys).
If she were perfectly honest with herself, Elizabeth thought she could like it quite a lot. Whether it was a testament to MrDarcy’s good taste or his good sense to leave his mother’s work well enough alone, she had to grudgingly give credit where credit was due.
Exposing
Fitzwilliam Darcy greeted his guests in a state somewhere between confusion and amusement. He truly believed his long discussion with Mr Bingley leading him away from the eldest Miss Bennet would be the last meaningful interaction with anyone from Hertfordshire (at least during daylight hours). By a curious coincidence, he had spent much of that morning thinking about Miss Elizabeth, and it seemed the gods of fortune were obliged to deliver her directly to his parlour. Whether her arrival was for good or ill remained to be seen.
Those thoughts disturbed his equanimity somewhat but did not prevent him from exercising basic civility. “Mr Bennet. Miss Bennet. Welcome to Darcy House.”
He refrained from asking their purpose, though he was burning with curiosity, and gestured to a set of sofas surrounding a small tea table. “May I offer refreshments?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you,” Elizabeth said demurely.
He nodded to a footman, and they sat down to a brief discussion about the trip from Longbourn until the tea appeared, along with several plates of biscuits.
“Miss Bennet, would you mind?” he asked politely.
She nodded and poured. Darcy appreciated that she did her task with a grace and economy of movement unusual in his experience. In his two months in Hertfordshire, he had only observed her as a guest. After months in the house of Miss Caroline Bingley, and years in the homes of the marriage-minded ladies of theton;he was duly impressed to see she simply did the job without the fawning or chatter usually accompanying such gatherings—giving him no more deference than she would give any other casual acquaintance.
As they continued the standard pleasantries, Darcy became more and more curious about the pair. Mr Bennet was clearly in Miss Elizabeth’s brown books. She would happily speak to Darcy as would Bennet, but the lady seemedsingularly disinclined to say anything directly to her father, or even look at the gentleman when he spoke. Bennet occasionally sallied forth with a clever witticism that could be construed as being directed to either party, followed by watching his daughter to see if she would take the bait. His efforts were in vain.
Finally, the refreshments and social niceties were over, and he once again observed curiously as Miss Elizabeth turned and took a deep breath.
“Mr Darcy, I request a confidential conversation with you. Not aprivateconversation obviously, but I would prefer my father occupy himself out of hearing—if you will allow it.”
Burning with curiosity, he looked at Mr Bennet, who gave him a smirk, which he did not much care for.
Darcy wondered what the subject could be, though he surmised the two most obvious candidates would be Wickham or Bingley. He was not precisely comfortable having such a discussion privately, but eventually decided with Mr Bennet in the same room, it could not be improper.
“I have no objections.”
She looked at her father, but Darcy could see the look was far closer to demanding compliance than begging permission.
The gentleman spoke more to Darcy than Elizabeth. “I assume you possess an adequate library, sir. Perhaps you could ask a footman to direct me and assign a maid to act as chaperone. You seem trustworthy enough, and I feel no great compulsion to intrude on my daughter’s private business.”
Darcy nearly gasped at the suggestion, feeling there was something not quite right, but not entirely improper either.
Elizabeth spoke encouragingly. “Come, Mr Darcy. We spent a half-hour alone together in the Netherfield library without speaking a word, and my business today will probably take half that.”
Darcy admitted she had a point, so he directed Mr Bennet to the library, and asked a maid to sit in the hall with the door open—mostly to make sure his guest was not worried aboutpropriety. Darcy led Elizabeth to a pair of chairs in front of the fire, hoping the more intimate setting would not discompose his companion.
“Would you be comfortable here? You seem pensive and I would do what I can for your comfort.”
