Chapter 9

Mr. Bennet's study had been his sanctuary. Its windows faced south so that he might have as much of the sunlight to read by as he could in a day. The shelves along the walls were stacked with books and loose papers, just as he had left them. The desk, which was situated in front of the windows, had a couple of ledgers, one sprawled across the desk and a writing box open with pen and ink ready for their Master. A lounge chaise was in the corner where an unlit candelabrum sat upon a desk next to it. Mr. Bennet had been known to fall asleep while reading during the night.

Elizabeth saw all these things and felt the ache of missing her Father rise within her. Collins had mentioned during their last meal together that he meant to get his hands on the ledgers as soon as he could and get an exact accounting of the estate and all the moneys it could be expected to bring in per anum. This was her last chance to immerse herself with her Father's memories before it would be completely changed beyond recognition.

Walking towards the desk, she ran her hand over its smooth surface, rounding the corner, then seating herself in the chair. Opening the drawers she pawed through the papers until she found the miniature she had painted of her Father a few years ago. He had praised it to her and placed it on the desk, but Elizabeth, knowing her talent was lacking, asked him to get rid of it. Shortly after that incident she had found it in the drawer, and wondered why he had kept it.

"Oh, Father, what you must be thinking of me," she trailed off.

The incident with Lady Catherine had given her a headache and she stayed in her room the rest of the afternoon. During dinner Collins recounted how he managed to calm her Ladyship and convince her that she should stay until Mr. Darcy arrived and she could confront him about the matter. She sent to Rosings for a trunk and had taken up residence at Lucas Lodge.

Remembering how her Father had taken her side when Mr. Collins proposed and she refused, she wondered what he would have to say to her if he had lived. She had thought it beyond contempt to marry for anything other than love, and here she was, marrying for money. She had often thought about writing to Mr. Darcy and asking that their engagement be called off, but every time she did she pictured her family starving in the street.

Darkness began to creep into the room and Elizabeth knew she must rejoin the family. Standing she walked to the door, took one last look at the study, then closed it behind her, her Father's portrait still in her hands.

##

The day dawned bright and clear and Elizabeth awoke to her Mother's loud voice coming from her room down the hall.

"Lizzy, Lizzy, wake up!" Kitty burst into her room.

"Kitty, what is going on?" Elizabeth asked, sitting up in bed.

"You will never guess! Mr. Bingley is back at Netherfield. Mr. Darcy is with him and a note has been delivered that they will be here shortly."

"Elizabeth!" Her Mother's shouting was much closer. "Get that girl dressed, they will be here. Oh, Jane, not that dress, that will never do. Kitty, leave Elizabeth to dress." Mrs. Bennet's head poked through the open doorway. "Lizzy, dear, Mr. Darcy shall be here this morning, please make haste in getting dressed." She left, pulling Kitty along with her.

From below stairs Elizabeth could hear Mary's ministrations on the piano as she slipped into her white muslin and began pulling her hair up into a simple twist. A few loose curls hung loose, shaping her face, and deeming herself ready went downstairs.

The kitchen table had the remnants of that morning's breakfast, but Elizabeth didn't feel hungry at all. In fact, she felt almost sick. Lydia and Kitty were seated with their Mother. Jane entered, looking as peeked as she felt, and sat without eating.

"Now you girls look lovely," their Mother said between chewing. "I of course will invite them to dine with us tonight. If you girls would like you may take the gentlemen into the garden."

"Mama, may Kitty and I go to town?" Lydia asked expectantly.

"Yes, yes, after the men get here."

The fact that Mr. Bingley had come back was not lost on Elizabeth. She knew it must have been Darcy that either put it into his head to return, or asked him to as a favor. Perhaps he intended to stay at Netherfield until they were married. At least one good thing will come of this, Elizabeth mused, eyeing Jane, who was pushing the food around her plate with her fork.

"Now hurry, girls, and eat some of this mint." She handed Elizabeth and Jane mint leaves. "Mary shall play piano and Kitty, dear, will you read to us? You have a lovely voice. Lydia, pray do not slouch."

Mrs. Bennet inspected her daughters as they sat in the parlor. Satisfied that each girl was sitting where and how she deemed appropriate, she herself sat between Jane and Elizabeth on the sofa. Kitty was seated by the fire reading from a book of poetry. Mrs. Bennet, from her seat could see out the window, and would occasionally glance that way. The only noise was Kitty's voice and the ticking of the hall clock. After a quarter hour, they heard horses' hooves on the gravel outside.

"They are here!" Mrs. Bennet squealed. Elizabeth looked out the window to see not two, but three horses. Once the men came closer into view, she noticed one was Mr. Collins, who looked very precariously perched atop his mount, and almost fell getting off.

"Now, girls, remain calm." Mrs. Bennet spread both hands out to the room, as if willing its occupants to obey her command.

Kitty continued to read as they heard the men knock at the door. Elizabeth could feel a sudden heat rise within her, spreading from her abdomen up to her chest and into her face. She desperately wished a blush hadn't come over her, and tried to calm herself.

The door opened and in stepped Mrs. Hill, "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Collins, Mum." She announced, then moved so each gentleman could pass through. The ladies arose and curtsied while the men bowed.

As Mrs. Bennet greeted the men, Elizabeth glanced up and watched Mr. Darcy walk across the room and stand beside her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his tan riding breeches and dark hessian boots. She dared not look up, but his presence was so great, she could practically feel him.

"I hope you had a pleasant journey." Mrs. Bennet was saying.

"We did." Mr. Bingley had taken the settee next to Jane and seemed to be unable to keep his eyes off of her. Elizabeth smiled as she watched Jane smile at the sound of his voice. "The roads were in good condition and the weather was fine."

The conversation of the weather, and the health of their mutual acquaintances over, Mrs. Bennet suggested a walking party out in the garden and afterwards some light refreshment. Everyone in the room stood, and Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy behind her, hand at the small of her back guiding her down the hall to the entrance of the house. She didn't know why, but her body reacted in such a strange way at the feel of his warm hand in such an intimate part of her body.

"Allow me," said Darcy, as he helped put her bonnet on and shawl. As he tied the ribbon under her chin Elizabeth took this opportunity to scrutinize his face. He really was a handsome man, with wavy brown hair and dark eyes. Usually he looked as if he were passing by an unpleasant smell, but at this moment he looked as if he was a boy opening presents at Christmas.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said when he finished.

"Shall we?" Mr. Collins was standing at the opened door. Darcy's look of elation evaporated as he realized Collins intended to accompany them.

"Cousin," Elizabeth started, stepping forward. "I recall you wishing to go over my Father's ledgers. His office is open and at your disposal. My Uncle, Mr. Phillips, is in town and can answer any questions you might have, as he helped my Father with his accounting on numerous occasions."

Mr. Collins look of torn desires warred on his face. He finally smiled, bowed and said, "Yes, thank you cousin Elizabeth. I believe I shall peruse the ledgers."

Mr. Darcy looked down at Elizabeth with admiration, causing her to blush. Jane and Bingley walked out the door, arm in arm. Mr. Darcy offered her his arm, and with a slight hesitation, took it.

It was a fine day, as had been discussed at length. A few wispy clouds were floating in the sea of blue above. A slight breeze carried with it the scent of blooming flowers and rustled the leaves in the trees. Jane and Bingley walked along the path ahead of them, seeming to be deep in conversation, whereas Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were silent.

"I am sorry for your loss, Elizabeth, and wish I could have been here to console you." Mr. Darcy finally broke the silence. "I understand you and your Father had a special relationship."

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled. "Papa always teased that I was his favorite and most sensible daughter. We always made each other laugh."

"Then I wish I could have known him better."

They continued their walking of the gardens, and out into an open meadow. Jane and Bingley had sat on a bench beneath the shade of a mighty oak. They entered the wooded area that Elizabeth had had her unpleasant encounter with Lady Catherine.

"I had a visit from your Aunt." Elizabeth said and looked up to see his reaction.

Mr. Darcy pursed his lips, as if remembering something unpleasant. "I am sorry for any bad behavior on her part. She is a lady used to always getting her way and unable to handle a situation in which she has no control. I hope you do not hold it against me."

Elizabeth laughed, "I was a little upset by her manner towards me, but on later reflection I realized she was trying to protect you and your interests." Elizabeth fell silent. Lady Catherine was perhaps the only one who knew her true motives.

"I have a favor to ask of you," Darcy said, stopping to sit her down on a bench out of sight of the house and Jane and Bingley. "I wrote my sister about you and ask that she join me at Netherfield. I would love for you to meet with her. She has expressed a great interest in meeting you."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands, "That would be fine."

Mr. Darcy took her hands in his, and ran his thumbs over the smooth surface of her knuckles, then brought them up to his mouth and placed light, feathery kisses where his thumbs previously caressed. Turning them over he placed one kiss on each of her palms, then held one hand up to his face so she could feel the hard line of his jaw.

Elizabeth's heart began to beat wildly at his ministrations. Never before had a man created such heat within her with so simple an act. Each kiss seemed to burn her skin, sending waves of heat pulsing throughout her body. She had once thought Darcy austere and an impenetrable force, but looking at him now he seemed so vulnerable.

Fighting the feeling to extend her hand into his hair, to feel its texture, she slowly slipped her hand out of his grasp and laid it firmly in her lap. He may have redeemed himself with regards to Bingley and Jane, but he still disinherited Wickham. She could not forget her true reason in marrying this man.

"I am sorry," Darcy said. "It is difficult for me to be so near you, and not touch you. Perhaps we better return to the house."

Mr. Darcy stood and extended his hand to help Elizabeth up. She took his hand, and together they walked back to the house.