A/N: Welcome back to Longbourn. Consider yourself invited to eavesdrop on all conversations herein. I am always delighted to have you and vastly enjoy our interactions.
An addendum! If you read this story on Rough Trade, you will notice a large addition to this chapter. The Rough Trade challenges are all about getting out the first draft. This took a little more work.
Chapter Six
Elizabeth rejoined Mr. Darcy in the parlor. She was distressed to see that her mother had joined Mr. Bingley and her sisters, but it couldn't be helped. "Mr. Darcy? My father will see you, now."
He nodded, but he was watching Mr. Bingley and Jane, Lizzy could see. "Your sisters are obliging young ladies," he remarked.
"Well, I am obliged to think well of them, am I not?"
With a smile making his blue eyes a bit brighter that morning, Mr. Darcy agreed with her. "Shall we, then?"
She took him back, walking slowly, oddly enough, wanting to draw out their time together. The halls in this part of the house were wide enough that they could pace side by side, which was just as well. She didn't think she could have borne having him behind her. She was grateful that they could be some small distance apart, too, as she absolutely wasn't going to touch him. "How is Miss Darcy after the party last night?"
"Very well, I thank you. And you?" She could feel his gaze fall on her, she was certain, but refused to return it. "I trust you and your father were not importuned by my sister."
At that she did look up at him, just as they reached the library. "Not at all! There could not be a sweeter young lady than Miss Darcy."
"I thank you."
Elizabeth opened the door for him and stepped inside. "Papa? Mr. Darcy."
"Mr. Darcy, come in, come in. What brings you to us this morning?"
Though tempted, Elizabeth did not stay to eavesdrop; instead, she decided to go to the parlor after checking in with the kitchen and absconded with one of Mrs. Hill's biscuits. Something sweet sounded like just the thing, at the moment, and her sisters were properly chaperoned, even if only by her mother.
Who seemed inordinately pleased to see her. "Lizzy! You're just in time."
Elizabeth put what she believed was a pleasant expression on her face, all the while hoping this wasn't her mother's way of leaving Jane—or Mary—alone with Mr. Bingley. "For what, Mama?"
"I need to ask Jane's opinion on dinner," her mother said, simpering a little in a way that made Elizabeth want to turn from her. "Will you stay here to entertain Mr. Bingley with your sister Mary?"
Elizabeth caught Mary's oh-so-slight resigned sigh and nodded. "Of course. Mr. Bingley, I'm sure Jane won't be but a moment."
Jane mouthed a silent question, What is this? but followed Mrs. Bennet from the room.
Mary cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Oh, Lizzy. Good. I was telling Mr. Bingley about the tenants at Netherfield Park."
Mr. Bingley seemed entirely agreeable, so Elizabeth and Mary took the next several minutes to discuss the tenants that they knew of that were attached to Netherfield.
The gentleman chuckled. "I should have brought pen and paper clearly, ladies. You both have a vast store of knowledge I shall have to acquire."
Mrs. Hill arrived with a tea service at that point, and Elizabeth blinked, but gamely did the duty of the tea pot and poured. Their guest was suitably appreciative as they continued to discuss the neighborhood, the local crops, and the shops in Meryton.
At one point, Mr. Bingley was gesturing whilst telling a story of something he had seen at the haberdasher, where he had escorted his sister the week prior. "And the clerk, charming fellow, truly, extended the thread so Caroline could look at it like this—ah!"
He had spilt tea over his wrist and on the cuffs of his shooting jacket. Mary bounced up immediately. "I'll get a cold cloth and water!"
Elizabeth nodded. "Pardon being left alone, Mr. Bingley, but I shan't dream of calling Compromise, I assure you."
He blushed. "I hadn't considered that at all, Miss Elizabeth." He set down his cup and pushed back his cuff. Elizabeth started doing her best to dry and soothe the area, following her handkerchief with the cool surface of one of the saucers with the tea service.
Which was when she saw the Soulmark on his wrist and could not stop her gasp before he erupted.
"Er. Miss Elizabeth." He jerked his hand away with a blush and awkwardly endeavored to cover the reddened skin.
She put a finger to her lips. "It's a secret, sir. I have one of my own and shan't say a word." At his shocked expression, she added, "Mine is not a feather, so do not fear. It's an herb. Secrets, yes?"
"Of course, Miss Elizabeth," he assured her solemnly just as Mary reappeared.
"So sorry! I had to find something to carry it in that wouldn't spill!"
As they were soothing the burn the best they could, Jane strode into the room, red-faced but white-lipped. Lizzy could read the signs of fury as well as anyone and she rose to go to her whilst Mary pulled out a poultice she'd found.
"The housemaids make some up every week, for just such instances," Mary said.
Lizzy, though, took Jane's hand and drew her aside a bit. "Jane. What happened?"
"Our mother!" her sister all but hissed. "Do you know what she did?"
Guessing by the level of shock and hurt she could see in Jane's eyes, Elizabeth nodded. "What did she say to you?"
"She told me she'd found out he . . . has a Soulmark . . . as you do. And she told me how to make it seem as if I had one, as well. I refused, Lizzy. I will not engage in such deception."
"What did she do?"
Behind them, there was the slight clatter of plates and cups being re-established on the tray. Jane darted a glance toward their caller before moving in close enough to brush Elizabeth's hair with her mouth to whisper, "She said she knew how to make him think I was his soulmate! She said that she heated a rock, wrapped it in her kerchief, and kept it in her pocket during a family dinner. Then, she touched my father and he believed they were chosen for each other! She believes I should do the same! She tried to give me a heated stone from the kitchen! I refused."
Tears had come to Jane's eyes—she would have lived her whole life happier for not knowing of such perfidy, Elizabeth suspected. "I'm sorry you had to hear it, Jane. But we shan't go that route. We shall marry for love, you and I."
"Yes, yes we shall." With that, Jane wiped her face and turned to smile at their guest. "So, Mr. Bingley, I am sorry for having to leave. I'm sure that Mary and Lizzy kept you entertained."
Elizabeth smiled; her sister had made her choice.
Darcy was impressed by the surprising number of books Mr. Bennet kept in his personal library. Every shelf was nearly full, and the man had three stacks on small tables scattered about the room. His smile was involuntary but not unseen.
"Ah, my books, sir. Please feel free to examine them at your leisure whilst in the neighborhood. But you did not, I imagine, come calling at this hour to discuss my library."
Darcy nodded quickly, taking a chair covered in dark gold upholstery with what seemed to be a worn-smooth walnut frame. It creaked a little as he sat down, but he ignored the sound to focus on Mr. Bennet, who sat across from him before a low-burning hearth.
"Yes, sir. This is about my sister, Miss Darcy." The older man nodded and Darcy guessed Miss Elizabeth had mentioned this already. "Well, sir, she is in general rather shy in company, but I have seen that here, amongst your family, she is able to be more herself and open. In short, she enjoys spending time with your daughters."
Mr. Bennet blinked and nodded, as if he had nothing to say. Darcy, though not vastly encouraged, continued. "I have been called back to Town on a matter of some urgency regarding my family," he said. "I am loath, though, to pull my sister from her new friends and wondered if you would be averse to, well, having her spend considerable time here. She and Miss Mary already have an arrangement for practicing on the pianoforte."
"Yes, my Mary is quite eager to do so. She rarely finds someone as interested in music as she is. Indeed, she has had two masters in the art to teach her, but the last one had to join the Regulars."
Darcy grimaced but nodded. "I do understand."
"So," Mr. Bennet went on, "I am happy to have a young lady such as Miss Darcy spend time with us, of course. She seems a pleasant girl and will be welcome amongst my daughters." He held up a hand when Darcy would have spoken. "And rest assured, Mr. Darcy, I shall keep an eye on all their comings and goings."
Having seen the manner in which Mr. Bennet protected Miss Elizabeth, at any rate, at every social engagement where they had all attended, Darcy felt able to relax somewhat. "Of course, Mr. Bingley and his sister will also be at Netherfield Park," he felt obliged to say.
Mr. Bennet nodded. As he didn't rise or speak, Darcy began to feel a bit uneasy under the older man's constant, studious regard. However, he did not speak, either, but waited. At length, Mr. Bennet's lips twitched and he removed his spectacles to clean them with a cloth from an inner coat pocket. "Sir. I would be obliged to you if I might bring up a rather delicate matter. I would prefer my daughter not be made aware of it. Elizabeth, not Mary."
A jolt of energy that felt like both fear and excitement buzzed through Darcy but he endeavored to maintain a cool demeanor. "Sir?"
"It is not common knowledge, Mr. Darcy, but I was chosen by Merlin to receive a Soulmark." Darcy's heart leapt to his throat and he swallowed and the older man continued in what was clearly an uncomfortable speech. Indeed, Mr. Bennet crossed and uncrossed his legs twice whilst he spoke. "Having been thus chosen, I feel it incumbent upon me to know whether or not any unmarried young men who interact with any of my daughters might also have one."
This seemed oddly intrusive, but Darcy wondered briefly if he might not adopt such a stance when Georgiana was out. After an initial, internal protest, he nodded. "I can understand that, sir. As guardian for my sister, that would be a concern of mine as well."
One bushy gray brow rose in silent interest, but Mr. Bennet plowed on in his own row. "Therefore, I beg leave to ask if you are also gifted with a Soulmark."
That was a very intimate question, and Darcy felt a bit as if he were meeting with his personal physician. He rose to his feet. "I am, Mr. Bennet."
The other man remained in his chair. "Yes, I rather thought so. I had an interview with my daughter last night, you see. Might I see your right arm? I have already seen hers."
Heat flew up Darcy's throat and into his face. He could see Elizabeth Bennet's fine, clear eyes looking up at him as they did the moment their skin touched. Clearing his throat, he nodded, but felt that he had to speak. "I fully comprehend your concern, sir," he said, unbuttoning his shooting jacket and shrugging it off to lay on the old gold chair, "but I assure you this is not something of which your daughter and I have spoken."
"I made myself a promise, Mr. Darcy, that my daughters would be allowed to choose their partners in life, Soulmark or no. I am not wishing to trap either of you into anything. I must, as a father, assure myself that my daughter was not overwhelmed by any circumstances of the moment."
There had to be something behind Mr. Bennet's request that he was not communicating, but Darcy untied the cuff of his right sleeve and bared his Soulmark to Mr. Bennet. "I have not seen hers nor will I ask to do so, sir."
"That showed restraint, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Bennet pushed at his spectacles and studied the Soulmark without touching Darcy's arm. "Well, then. Will you assure me that this is genuine, Mr. Darcy? I have," he said as Darcy would have protested, "reason to inquire. I do not wish to explain at this time, but a father wishes to be sure."
Not bothering to hide his irritation, Darcy nodded. "It is, sir. My valet, Hewetson, can attest to this if there is any doubt of my word."
"Not at all, Mr. Darcy. Your word stands for you, I'll be bound. Thank you." He then pushed up his own sleeve a little and Darcy saw a small Soulmark at the older gentleman's wrist. "As a matter of trust, then, here is mine."
Shocked, Darcy glanced at the small blade of a spade near the base of Mr. Bennet's thumb. "Indeed. I shall say nothing to anyone, of course."
Bennet waved Darcy back to his chair. "There, don your coat again. I don't want anyone gossiping. I thank you, Mr. Darcy. You have eased my mind on this matter." He adjusted his sleeve with what had to be feigned nonchalance. "I wish you a fruitful trip to Town. Do feel yourself welcome to return to my library when you are back in Hertfordshire." He held out a hand to shake. "That is what you may tell my daughter, should she ask what we discussed."
Relieved that the interview was over, Darcy shook the man's hand and was escorted to the parlor, where Bingley was still visiting with the Misses Bennet. "Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence, sir."
Bennet smiled wryly. "As it should be. Look, I have a library," he said with an expansive wave of one arm. "You enjoy reading. There, we've spoken." He chuckled and moved to open the door. "And so we have."
Darcy could only return that same, slanted smile. "Indeed, sir." He followed the inscrutable fellow as they made their way back to the front parlor, where he had left Bingley in the midst of the female Bennets.
He looked very happy. Miss Bennet, Darcy noted, also looked very happy. But as he knew the middle daughter best, Darcy quickly studied Miss Elizabeth's countenance to get an understanding for anything he might have missed.
She was nominally engaged in needlework next to Miss Mary, who was studying sheet music on the same settee, whilst Miss Bennet and Bingley were in chairs facing one another over a small tea table.
Darcy cleared his throat and was amused and gratified to see four pairs of eyes look up. "Bingley? Are you able to leave at this juncture? If not, I can spare you." He smiled a little as his friend's cheeks heated visibly.
Misses Elizabeth and Mary rose in tandem, laying aside their work. "Papa. Mr. Darcy. Is all well?" Miss Elizabeth inquired.
"Yes, my dear. All is indeed well." He paused again, and Darcy felt the same heaviness to a brief moment of heavy silence. "I see you are all hard at work at one thing or another, so I'll return to my books. Mr. Darcy, remember my invitation. Mr. Bingley, good day."
Darcy schooled his features as Bingley all but jumped to his feet, as if suddenly remembering they had called remarkably early that day. "Good day to you, sir. Thank you for your hospitality."
Mr. Bennet waved a negligent hand in the air as he left the parlor. Miss Elizabeth sighed audibly. "Really, Papa," she murmured.
Miss Mary bent and retrieved her music. "Mr. Darcy, is Miss Darcy well?"
"Indeed she is, Miss Mary, and she is looking forward to your appointment."
The bespectacled young woman nodded briskly. "Good. I shall return to my instrument, then."
Miss Bennet escorted Bingley to the front door, where a manservant had their hats and gloves. Miss Elizabeth was perforce compelled, Darcy supposed, to walk with him.
He glanced down at her right arm as she turned to apparently give her sister a moment to say a farewell to Bingley. "Mr. Darcy?" Miss Elizabeth's voice was cool. "Is there aught amiss with my sleeve?"
He cleared his throat. "No, Miss Elizabeth, I beg pardon. I was just . . . thinking."
"Indeed."
"It is a good color for you, though. Your gown," he said, feeling unwieldy and awkward with the ill-timed compliment.
Perhaps something of that showed on his face, for Miss Elizabeth's eyes twinkled in the morning light of the now-open door. "I'll keep your approbation in mind, Mr. Darcy. Good day."
I really must talk to Richard!
The Matlocks' house in Mayfair was occupied by a skeleton staff that evening, as Fitzwilliam Darcy met with the second son of the elevated family after an abbreviated meal.
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam wiped his lips, sipped at the last of the wine, and sat back in his chair. "Well?"
Darcy hadn't touched any wine all evening. He wanted his mind to be as clear as possible and one drink could lead to two, which could get out of hand when he was with his cousin. He decided to lay it out in as flat a manner as possible. "I met my soulmate."
Richard spewed the last mouthful of his wine. Despite the gravity of the moment, Darcy had to laugh. No servants appeared to tidy up, which was just as well, so the colonel did the honors himself. "Well, should I congratulate you? Merlin picked her out just for you, and I have to wonder whom he thought would suit." Darcy just glared at him, so Richard continued. "I have not yet met mine, though I do wonder if it isn't time to start going gloveless to all the dinners and routs that are being thrown. Mother isn't entirely sanguine about my single state, since my brother has yet to produce an heir."
Nodding, Darcy indicated he understood. "Well, you could marry for other considerations."
"No, Darce. I must have an heiress. And if Merlin has chosen her, I trust his judgment. Just as my men trust mine."
"Fair," Darcy conceded.
"So is she a fright? Your soulmate? How did you find out? Has she flirted with you, dropping her handkerchief?"
Darcy snorted. "No. She has a lively wit, but she refuses to acknowledge that we are soulmates."
"How do you mean?" The colonel adopted his planning expression, indicating his effort to puzzle out what was before him.
"I mean that we touched, Richard. Her hand to mine, during a parlor game, of all things, and it was just as your parents said."
"The burn?" Richard sat up stiffly, jaw set and deep-set eyes alert. "So it does truly happen like that?"
"It does. And I know she felt it as well. She's refusing to acknowledge it, though. And I can't help but wonder if Merlin got it wrong, just this once."
With a snort, his cousin relaxed and slouched back on his chair. "A young lady—intelligent, you said?"
"I believe her to be so, yes. Good conversation, an awareness of every room she's in."
"Plain? Does she have spots? Bad teeth?"
Darcy had to shake his head while holding in laughter. "No, Cousin. She's pretty enough even for you, I daresay. Her sister is a beauty; but Miss Elizabeth Bennet is more interesting, I believe."
"Hmmm. I want to meet her. Have you, well, seen her Soulmark?"
Darcy pushed up to his feet, deciding to omit the conversation he had had with Mr. Bennet. "No. And I daren't ask. It's personal and intimate and she never fails to keep her arms covered at all times. I couldn't ask her; not without offending." Not everyone was as forthright as the Master of Longbourn.
"But Darce!"
"No. It must be her choice."
The colonel sighed and pushed away from the dining table, tossing his napkin on his plate as he stood. "You sound truly caught, Darce. I should meet her."
"Yes," Darcy said, much struck by the notion. "Yes, you should."
E/N: So, that was an awkward conversation, was it not?
So! Some of you have questions! And that's fantastic! But I cannot answer them unless you are signed in and accepting PMs. Feel free to ask anyway, if you wish. I hope that the future words will entertain!
