Page 17 of Leave Her Wild
“The dog sounds content,” Mr. Darcy said softly. She realized he was no longer directly behind her, and so she stopped to look upon him. He was staring off in the distance. “It is easy to see why you would enjoy this view. One can see for miles.”
“That is the church’s steeple,” she said as she pointed off to the right. “I understand from Jane that you mean to speak to our Mr. Williamson today.”
Mr. Darcy did not turn his head to speak to her, but he responded, nevertheless. “Just long enough to schedule an appointment for tomorrow. I pray your sister will accompany me.”
“I imagine she will,” Elizabeth said as tears rushed to her eyes. Whether they were a result of Jane’s mistake or her own foolish heart screaming out in denial, she could not say. “We should continue our climb if we are to arrive back at Longbourn in time to break our fast.” She turned quickly so the gentleman could not view her moment of misery.
They finished their climb in silence. When he joined her on the summit, Elizabeth was in her favorite spot at the top. “My father’s lands,” she said in explanation as she gestured straight ahead.
“They appear quite productive,” he said. “Fitzwilliam has spoken of your answering so many of his questions. He has long dreaded the idea of being a gentleman farmer.” Mr. Darcy stepped up beside her. The dog was seated between them. “And the estate in the distance?” he asked.
“Netherfield Park. It is some three miles removed if one crosses Mr. Bennet’s fields. A bit longer following the roadway,” she explained. “It was the Netherfield master who organized the larger estates to share costs. Together, all four masters had hoped to do something similar with the larger farms in the area and then, later, with the cottagers. Without someone at Netherfield, the idea may not be sustainable, for it is one of the larger estates in the area.”
“I know something of Netherfield,” Mr. Darcy admitted. “Your sister suggested it for a friend of mine, but Mr. Bingley’s sisters believe Buckinghamshire would be better for him. He had asked my opinion so I instructed my man of business to make the usual inquiries of the estate’s availability. Netherfield proved to be the better choice, but Mr. Bingley’s sisters prefer to be where there are more members of the aristocracy.”
“Is Mr. Bingley also a gentleman of society?” she asked. “Jane has not mentioned him.”
“Bingley holds a gentleman’s education from Cambridge, but his fortune comes in much the same manner as does your Uncle Gardiner. They, upon occasion, outbid each other for a shipment of antiques or the like. Bingley promised his late father that he would use the family fortune to bring himself and his sisters into society.”
“I am sorry Mr. Bingley did not choose Hertfordshire, but your cousin has promised to recruit the earl in finding a suitable occupant for the estate.” She motioned the dog to her. “We should return to Longbourn.”
As she started around him, the gentleman caught her arm, turning her where she must face him. “Why is it that we can discuss the state of Netherfield Park or a hundred other topics and be civil to each other, but when either of us discusses the wedding, your objection raises its ugly head again?”
Elizabeth wished she could leave the hold of his steady gaze behind, but it held her in place. “I have already told you I wish Jane to marry for love, just as I would wish the same for Mary and Kitty.”
“But not for yourself?”
“It would not take a man of your intelligence to recognize that someone must assist my mother when Mr. Bennet passes. The idea is quite ironic, you see, for I am the least favorite of her daughters. If I must abandon my own dreams, I would wish my sisters all married for love.”
“Many marriages begin on less than love. Respect and loyalty can serve equally as well,” he argued.
“Were your parents in love?” she challenged him.
“Madly so.”
“The colonel’s parents?”
“Exceedingly happy. Even my Aunt Catherine, of whom you are acquainted, at least in name, was in love with Sir Lewis de Bourgh.”
“Then should you not love Jane?” she argued.
“Who is to say your sister and I will not come to love each other dearly? I am of the persuasion that if your sister had chosen a different man, say one more of my cousin’s disposition, you would not object to such a speedy marriage. Your objection lies with me alone. Tell me why.”
Elizabeth knew she blushed thoroughly: She assuredly could not admit to their previous encounter, for it was too embarrassing in so many ways. “Jane is marrying you to save the family!” she declared, at last.
“After negotiating with your father, I am well aware of your family’s financial woes. Who says I am not marrying her to save my family!”
“Save your family!” she exclaimed. “All Jane can offer you is a vessel for your children.” Elizabeth noted his slight flinch. “Is that it, Mr. Darcy? Do you require a mild-mannered wife who will tolerate your lust?”
“We should discontinue this conversation,” he said in even tones. “I will never earn your approval, though I had hoped to do so for Miss Bennet’s sake.”
“Of course, you wish not to hear of your faults, sir,” she hissed. “They are many, indeed.”
“Name one,” he ordered. “Other than my lack of your regard.”
“You made Jane cry,” Elizabeth charged. “What did you do to make my sister miserable?”
“Let me think upon it,” he said in equally sarcastic tones. “Now I have it. I presented her with a ring that is worth more than your father’s yearly income and dared to seal our bargain with a kiss. And, before you ask, I did not demand one. Miss Bennet said her ‘stiffness’ was because she had not expected the kiss. Would you not expect a kiss from your betrothed after he presented you with a family heirloom to seal your arrangement to spend your life together?”
