Chapter 14: Of Challenges and Special Contraptions

Mr. Darcy was not a man blinded to other people's perceptions of his wealth. It did not matter whether those perceptions were accurate. He was aware people thought he was wealthy. However, he was brought up to be charitable by parents who had seen how hard life could be for those less fortunate. His parents instilled in him a desire to help and made him understand from a very young age that their abundance of resources and land was nothing but a fever dream for most others. Mr. Darcy was proud to be able to offer his family and his tenants a good standard of living. To him, Pemberley was a symbiotic organism. He needed the tenants, and the tenants needed him. If he had no tenants, he could never manage all his land as efficiently. If the tenants had no land, they would have to turn to other less certain, and even unsafe, ways to make a living.

His inheriting of his family's fortune came along with an equally large burden of responsibility. Because he took over the management when he was so young, being in his position, he made many mistakes. Some crops were lost. Some animals did not sell as well as expected. His father's last year as a healthy man had brought in 35,000 pounds. Once his health declined, the earnings went down to 20,000 pounds. Either of those amounts would be considered excellent by most people's standards. When William took over, he was still significantly affected by losing his father and seeing Gigi so morose. He had no idea how to help her because he needed someone to help him. It is truly devastating to find yourself without your parents while so young.

His parents' staff behaved so admirably. They were so kind, so loyal, so helpful. If it had not been for Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds' professionalism, the 10,000 pounds he generated would have been the beginning of the end. They did anything and everything to keep Miss Darcy busy and away from him while he worked. When the young miss decided only he could do his hair, it was the first time Mrs. Reynolds saw the effect of those blue eyes and 'the look.' Mr. Darcy would ride out and deal with what he could. Then, a footman would whistle a particular way that meant Miss Darcy was awake, dressed, and needed him to do her hair.

It would take years for William to understand that it was more than a whim. Gigi wanted to spend time with him. She wanted his attention. She wanted his loving, patient touch. While he worked on her hair, she would tell him about her previous day and ask him about his own. When they were done, Gigi would always take whichever of his hands was free from the brush and kiss the back of it. Her "Thank you, for my hair," was a thank you for a lot more than just her hair. The first time she did it, he almost started bawling. Gigi was both a heavy responsibility and a lifting and encouraging presence. She could make him laugh through the bad days, and she never complained or resented how little time he could spend with her over his first years of managing the estate.

FLASHBACK

The first and only time he drank to excess was when he reviewed the books with Mr. Wickham senior after the first full year of work. He felt useless. He felt like a consummate disappointment. He feared his father was staring down at him and shaking his head. William feared his feet could never fill the big shoes his father left behind. He felt like he was constantly being pulled in dozens of directions. The list of things and people that needed his attention was endless, and he had forgotten how it felt to have fun.

In retrospect, Mr. Darcy wished he had been kinder to himself. The day after he saw the books, he woke up before the sun and had the disgusting -but effective- remedy that Mrs. Reynolds handed him with narrowed eyes.

"I know what you are going to say," he groaned as he rubbed sleep off his eyes.

"I doubt it, sir."

"I should not have drunk so much. It was stupid and irresponsible."

"Mr. Darcy, at your age… This is what you should be doing, within reason, of course. Unfortunately, those were not the cards you were dealt."

"No. They were not."

"The alcohol cabinet is no longer your father's, sir."

"Beg your pardon?"

"It is your alcohol now. I think, if I may be so bold, sir, that you would do better having one small drink every few days than attempting to drown in alcohol once in a blue moon."

Mr. Darcy blushed and sighed. "I do not feel like I can."

"Your father allowed himself one drink a week. Usually on a Friday evening. You may want to do the same, or perhaps choose a different day and do similarly."

"I am so embarrassed that you have seen me like this."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy, I have seen worse. Drinking to an excess is a very dangerous way to pass the time, sir. It is also a high stakes way to forget your worries."

"High stakes?"

"Yes. If you were at a ball in London… With all the debutantes and matchmaking mamas, would you drink?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to be in possession of all my senses so I am not put in a situation where I can be compromised."

Mrs. Reynolds smiled as he processed her words.

"Dear God. I could have signed anything last night. I barely remember where I was."

"I do not want you to fear alcohol. I believe your father did not either. However, he would have wanted you to respect it. He would have wanted you not to depend on it. If you need to work out your frustrations, the kitchens always need more firewood, and we have excellent axes. Or, alternatively, you could fence with Mr. Reynolds, maybe go for a long fast ride on your stallion. A swim on the cold lake would also help, sir."

Mr. Darcy smiled, "Of course. You are correct. I just have not had any time to do things I enjoy."

"Make the time, sir. Your well-being matters, too."

"Make the time?" he frowned, confused.

"Yes. Block one hour a day from your schedule. Do whatever you want for that hour and then come back to work. You have earned that rest, sir."

Mr. Darcy smiled, "Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds."

"Whatever for, sir?"

"For caring… and for all you do. Gigi and I would be lost without you."

Mrs. Reynolds patted his hand as he handed her the empty glass. "You are a good boy. You deserve it. I will have cook make you something good and greasy for lunch to get rid of all that alcohol."

"Thank you."

END FLASHBACK

Mr. Darcy sat down and reviewed everything he did wrong. He wanted to prevent the same issue from happening again. He went over the accounts. He talked to his steward. He reflected and prayed about it. After all of that, he decided he needed the help of those who knew more than him. He got on his horse and asked tenants for an hour of their time. He used that hour to walk the lands they worked on with them and to ask them for feedback, which was one of his life's most humbling experiences. His father had been right. Those men had been farmers longer than he had been alive. They knew the lands. They knew the weather. They knew what worked best. He had been overly pushy with his new techniques and approaches, and they did not appreciate it. They tried them, of course, but the low yields did not lie. He vowed to them that he would never try to push something on them again. He wanted them to meet once a month to discuss progress as a whole. He wanted them to bring their concerns to him so they could find a solution together. The tenants were happy to see that their new landlord was finally proving to be like his father.

Mr. Darcy made it a point to always come home for lunch, but most of the day, he was outside. The tenants had been shocked when he asked them to teach him what they knew. He explained that he felt his education had been too much by the book and needed to be nourished by their experience and practical knowledge. From then on, it was exhausting and harrowing work for William, but it was smooth sailing. The tenants taught him how to plant certain crops better. They taught him the methods they knew for bringing water to the fields more efficiently. They taught him knots he did not know. They taught him how to deal with abscesses and cuts in animals for way cheaper than he thought possible. They taught him all about the medicinal herbs they used and how to grow and store them. Mr. Darcy learned more in that year than in his formal education. He also got stronger from all this work. He managed to offer newer methods as just an idea they could try, which made the farmers give them a chance. He discovered that you can genuinely catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

The tenants had been impressed to see the heir of such an aristocratic family –to them, the Darcys were like royals– deep to his knees in mud, blisters on his hands, cheeks reddened by the sun, clothes soaked with sweat, his curly hair dripping with sweat or rain. Yes, even when severe rains hit the North, and they needed an extra hand, Mr. Darcy did not hesitate to dismount his horse and take off his heavy coat so he could then jump in the river or mud with them. He had ruined more than one set of boots, much to Mr. Reynolds' despair. Most estate Masters would come around atop their fancy horses in their equally fancy clothes, and they would never touch the land, let alone work it. They were too worried about their appearance and their coiffures. Mr. Darcy was ever too happy to join them in the work, no matter how hard. It was a good way to work out his frustrations and to be grateful for all he had.

When he would see food on his table, he knew exactly how much effort was behind that final product. If he saw cheese, he knew what it took to make it. He had actually been burned twice when learning. When he ate good quality meat, he was happy to know he was involved in its production. The fruits they produced for desserts in the estate were so sweet and fresh. He could do what Londoners did and purchase from the markets, but it was not the same satisfaction as plucking a cherry from your own bush tree and eating it immediately. William never understood why people liked London so much. Other than Hyde Park, the theaters, the palaces, and Parliament… There was not much to see. It was crowded, noisy, and frankly did not smell good.

Mr. Darcy understood people's struggles and scarcity. Not financial, perhaps, but he knew unsurmountable loss and pain. He knew fear. He knew anxiety. He knew a deep yearning for his parents. He knew betrayal. He knew failure. Because of this knowledge, he could relate to people in his position, like fathers and landed men, better than most. His only hope was that he could imbue all of this in his conversation with Mr. Bennet and turn over a new page.

"Well, sir. I am at your disposal. How can I help you?"

Mr. Bennet sighed, "H-How… How much do I o-owe you for all th-this?"

"Owe me, sir?"

"I am a-aware that my… a-accident has c-c-cost you greatly. I would like to p-p-pay you back."

"Mr. Bennet… It is not necessary for you to pay me back."

"It is… I… I do not w-w-want my L-Lizzie to feel indebted to you."

Mr. Darcy blinked, "I see. It does you credit that you have that sentiment... Would it make you feel better if I reminded you that Miss Elizabeth agreed to a courtship with me days before you came to Pemberley?"

"I do not-" he started to cough.

Mr. Darcy got a glass of water and put it close to his lips. Mr. Bennet looked thoroughly insulted.

"Do you w-want to take all of my d-d-dignity?"

"Sir, it is not a crime to need help."

"I do not want y-y-your help."

Mr. Darcy grimaced and placed the glass on the side table. He took a deep breath, "My father said those exact words to me years ago. My father's disease made his hands shake violently. He lost his ability to grip objects steadily. He was a self-sufficient man who was used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted, without help. His disease had him facing his own mortality, and that alone could traumatize the strongest man, but it also had him seeing that he needed to accept help."

"I am n-not your father."

Mr. Darcy replied in an even tone, "No, you are not. My father was ill. His illness was beyond his control… He would have never risked his life and health in someone else's home against the advice of the estate's master. Mr. Bennet, I saw Onyx. He had deep spurs' marks on his sides, sir. Here at Pemberley, we do not own any spurs or agree with their use. We train our horses to do as they are told and leg-cued without hurting them."

"A h-horse is a w-working beast, not a p-pet."

Mr. Darcy paced with a deep frown, "That horse has never been injured in six years under my care. He is an easy mount. He is docile and tempered. You scared him so much that it took days for us to find him. He ran away. Miss Bennet brought him back when she went for a ride. She lassoed him most effectively. When he was returned to the stables, he was tired and hungry, but the spurs lesions were the worst of it."

"A well-trained horse would not throw off his rider like so," Mr. Bennet said between coughs.

"A well-educated horseman would not hurt a horse to force compliance," Mr. Darcy frowned.

"Give me a n-n-number," Mr. Bennet insisted.

"No."

"Why are you so s-s-stubborn? You are rich, no? The rich l-l-love taking from the poor. Do that n-n-now."

Mr. Darcy stopped pacing and looked at the man with naked amusement, "Mr. Bennet, respectfully, you are the king of stubbornness. Pot meet kettle. I have not taken anything away from the poor, sir. And you are most certainly not the poor. You are a landed gentleman."

"Who will lose his f-f-family everything upon his d-death."

Mr. Darcy sighed, "Mr. Bennet, I understand your fears. Let me help you. I can have my lawyer look at the entailment. There may be a way to break it while you live. Then, your wife and daughters could feel safe knowing they will always have a home. Think of how great that would be for Mrs. Bennet's nerves and your daughters' futures."

"So that a-a-an ungrateful future son-in-law can t-take over the fruits of m-my labor once I pass?"

Mr. Darcy immediately thought, What fruits of what labor? Your estate produces 2,000 pounds a year. It could produce five times that under responsible management! He took a deep breath to temper his reply, "No, sir. So that none of your daughters have to marry out of fear of becoming homeless… So that none of them marry out of a sense of obligation to have someone provide a home and resources to the rest of your family, regardless of how ill-advised that union could be."

"So that Lizzie does not feel o-obligated to marry you?" a dangerous glint was in the eyes of the older man.

Mr. Darcy sighed, "Mr. Bennet, she is not obligated to marry me. It is what she wants. Miss Elizabeth loves me."

"She does not," he coughed. "She is a child who was impressed by your g-grand home and your library. I know my Lizzie. Riches will not keep her happy for long. The k-k-kind of wife you need is someone more like my J-Jane. Someone who can be po-polite, make friends, smile pre-prettily, and keep her opinions to h-herself. Someone well trained to be a wife."

Mr. Darcy held onto the back of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white, "A woman is not an animal to be trained."

"When you have l-lived as long as I have, you will re-realize that all those refinements and arts and allurements women are taught... are precisely that. They are t-trained on how to c-catch a husband."

"Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth is not a child. She knows her mind and her heart. I know she is not mercenary, and I love her more for it. I know the kind of wife I want. I care little about other people's expectations. I am my own man. I do not depend on anyone financially. I do not need to marry for status or wealth. Miss Bennet is a wonderful girl, and she has a lot to offer to someone out there, but I do not love her. I have come to understand her better and to admire her quiet strength and her many other skills, but she deserves a perfect match. That is not me. My heart is already spoken for. If I had a brother, I would definitely encourage a match between him and your eldest."

"Lizzie is too y-young to marry. You have b-blinded her with all the s-splendor of your estate. She will come to her s-senses soon enough."

"Mr. Bennet… You are a logical, educated man."

"I am."

"You are proud of your intelligence."

"I am."

"Give me ten reasons why I am not a good match for Miss Elizabeth."

"Give me ten reasons why you are."

"No, sir. You started this. Go ahead," Mr. Darcy motioned with his hand for him to speak as he sat back down.

"You have none?" Mr. Bennet raised a brow at him.

"Oh, no. I have more than ten. Do you not?"

As he thought, Mr. Bennet took a deep, slow breath; soon enough, he began, "One: marriages of different social classes do n-not work in the long run. Do not t-tell me we are gentlemen of equal standing because we are not. Two… Lizzie is wild, and she likes to be free. She will n-not do good in the ton with all the two-faced l-ladies and the lecherous men. Three: Lizzie needs to give her o-opinion at all times. It does not matter if no one asked for it. She will be h-heard. I seem to remember your f-family has members of the peerage. That will g-go over wonderfully with them, I am sure… Four: Lizzie will not be happy so f-far away from her sisters and parents. Five: she needs to marry someone of a cheerful disposition who can put up with her intelligent humor. Six: Lizzie is s-smart and knowledgeable. She will not sh-shrink. I doubt a man of y-your stature would be fine with his wife being smarter than he is. It would be un-unsupportable to me."

Mr. Darcy took a deep breath but kept quiet.

"Seven: Lizzie does not have most of the homely skills that are expected of women of your circle. Eight: Elizabeth is not going to change her ways for you. What you find endearing now will annoy and anger you in some years. Nine: Lizzie has always wanted to earn her own income instead of getting married. She often thought of becoming a lady's companion so she could travel and learn more. She was not brought up to be a kept woman. Tenth: like all gentlemen, you need an heir."

Mr. Darcy blinked, "So?"

"Mrs. Bennet has proven that not all women can bear boys. She is her mother. I imagine there is probably some familiar component there."

Mr. Darcy chuckled, "Is that all, sir?"

"You need more?" Mr. Bennet looked confused.

"No, but if you choose to make assumptions about my relationship with your daughter, I will have to clarify each of them. One: marriages of spouses within the same social class may not work in the long run either. Two: her spirit is one of the reasons I love her so much. She is brilliant, and she will take those ladies down a peg. Even you would have been amused by how she took Miss Bingley down today. As for lecherous men… They are everywhere, unfortunately. Men in the ton know that Darcy men marry for love, and we are extremely protective of our loved ones. None of them would dare cross me. Three: I love hearing Miss Elizabeth's opinion. I love that she can talk with me about any topic and hold her own. While some of my family are members of the peerage, they will love who I love and who makes me happy. My uncle, the Earl of Matlock, has been very concerned that I am still unmarried. When he meets Miss Elizabeth, I am sure she will charm him. Four: respectfully, sir, but your daughters will not stay in Longbourne forever. They will likely marry and go live with their husbands. Those husbands may be from anywhere. You traveled in one of my carriages. She could visit as often as she wishes. Five: she makes me cheerful, and her intelligent humor and teasing nature, now that I know her better, are among my favorite qualities she has."

Mr. Bennet scoffed. He clearly did not believe him.

"Six: my father taught me to look for a smart woman. He thought my mother could dance circles around him in algebra and Latin, not to mention modern languages and history. It has been my deep dream to find a woman who is not only smart but also not afraid to show just how smart she is in front of me. I would not want my wife to fear repercussions of any kind when speaking her mind… I have found a lot of women end up shrinking themselves not to upset their husbands; that would be unsupportable to me."

Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes, "Are you... Are you passing judgment on my marriage?"

"Not at all. I do think most of us men do not understand the sacrifices women make to marry. Seven: I could not care less about Miss Elizabeth's homely skills. She can embroider. She can play the piano. She can mend clothes. She can create menus. She can balance books. She can bake the most delicious treats. That is more than enough for me. I do not care what the ton requires. That is why my sister is learning all the same things I learned with tutors. I do not need a maid or a cook. I need a life companion. Eight: I would not want Miss Elizabeth to change anything about herself. Perhaps only one thing."

Mr. Bennet looked at his questioningly. "What would th-that be?"

"I would want her to take my last name... Mr. Bennet, what I feel for her is not passing fancy. I know her. I love her. I want to grow old with her; nothing could push me away from her but herself. Nine: as Mrs. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth would have her own income to do with as she sees fit. I would never ask her to tell me how she used the money. She is not a child. She can make her own decisions. It is my great wish to show her as much of the world as possible."

"Let me guess? In your honeymoon?" Mr. Bennet lifted a brow.

"We would have to be gone for over a year for her to see most of the places she wants to visit. My estate cannot afford my absence for so long. But I have already talked to my steward about taking at least two vacations a year… Now, sir, as Mrs. Darcy, she would not be a kept woman at all. She would work on the welfare of the estate and the well-being of the tenants and their families year-long. Tenth: I want an heir, but I do not need one. It matters not to me whether our firstborn is a boy or a girl. I would just want a healthy baby. Pemberley is not entailed away based on sex. Even if Miss Elizabeth and I were not blessed with children, the estate would go to her in the event of my death. Once we are both gone, it passes to my sister."

"You seem to h-have prepared a re-rebuttal to all my o-objections."

"Mr. Bennet, I am a man used to working hard for what he wants, and I have never wanted anything more than Miss Elizabeth to be my wife. I could debate this with you for days. I need you to understand something, sir. There is absolutely nothing you can do or say to make me stop loving your daughter. I want her to be Mrs. Darcy. She wants to be Mrs. Darcy. That is all that matters. Your approval is wanted but not necessary."

"You are never going to get my approval."

Mr. Darcy crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, "I challenge you."

"Excuse me? Do you see my c-current state? I c-cannot even e-eat by myself!"

"I do not mean a physical challenge, sir."

"No? Then what k-k-kind of challenge?"

"Your favorite… A mental challenge."

"Have you forgotten that my b-b-brain has been rattled and injured?"

"Well, the doctor is convinced your slight amnesia was temporary. In any case, you do not need memories for this. Only intelligence and reasoning. I can see you have them both."

"What does this ch-challenge consist of?"

"It is very simple. You will spend one hour a day in my company. Every single day, no exceptions. It cannot be a meal. It must be just the two of us. We can talk about literature, politics, the economy, the war, ethics, philosophy, estate management, anything and everything. You can ask me all the questions you may have about me. Once you regain the use of your arms, we can even play chess. Get to know me, Mr. Bennet. Give it a month or two. You can tell me once that time has passed if you have changed your mind."

"I will not change my m-mind."

"Then, there should be no reason for you to refuse me. Right?" Mr. Darcy raised a brow.

"Right… Fine. But if we a-are going to do this, I want out."

"Out?" Mr. Darcy blinked.

"Out of this room. As charming as it may be, I am n-not a man used to being locked inside."

Mr. Darcy kept his sarcastic remark about him hiding in his study most of the day to himself, "Oh. Well, luckily for you, we may have a way to do that tomorrow, pending the doctor's approval."

Mr. Bennet scoffed. "What are you g-going to do? Kick me out the w-window?"

"No," Mr. Darcy said. He thought to himself, Although I have considered it. "Mrs. Gardiner is also tired of being kept indoors. We ordered a special contraption to help move her. If the doctor says you can also use it, then tomorrow you may get some sun and fresh air."

"I hope that is t-t-true."

"It is. Is there anything I can do for you while I am here?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, and then an amused glint shone in them, "Oh, what the hell? When am I going to have a chance to order the great Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire around?"

Mr. Darcy blinked, "Sir?"

"Bring me that cup. I am thirsty."

Mr. Darcy forced himself not to smile, "Yes, sir."

Mr. Bennet thought about what he had agreed to do for Lizzie. One hour a day with her beau. How… tragic. If he could move, things would be better, but as he was an… invalid… how he hated that word! There was nothing he could do. He agreed. Now, he would use this opportunity to grill the young man with all sorts of questions. Perhaps not all hope was lost yet. He could poison the well. As long as there was no compromise and no ring on his daughter's finger, he still had time to sabotage them.

Two wooden boxes were delivered to Pemberley the next day. Mr. Darcy helped his staff open the larger one of them and store the smaller box away. Inside the large box there was a fully put-together wheelchair. A chair with wheels. What a novel concept. It looked sturdy. There was a letter on the seat. It had recommendations on how to take care of it and how to lift it steadily to move it up and down the stairs. Mr. Darcy sat on it to ensure it was as sturdy as he thought. Once they placed the cushions on it, it would be a great way to move the patients around. They did a trial run with Mrs. Reynolds' help, and there was little to no jostling. He made sure the stoppers worked well and asked two footmen to help him bring the chair upstairs. He directed them to Mrs. Gardiner's room. Mrs. Gardiner was pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Darcy so early in the morning.

"Mrs. Gardiner, good morning! I have a surprise for you, madam."

He motioned to the staff outside.

"What-?" her brain froze as a chair was rolled into her room. "Mr. Darcy!"

He beamed at her, "The doctor said you could now sit up so we figured that moving you from the bed to a bathtub is already a lot more risky than from the bed to this wheelchair. With it, we can take you downstairs, and you could get some fresh air."

"Oh, Mr. Darcy! You should not have! I already feel like such an imposition. Those are so expensive, and to buy one just for me, I-"

"Not at all. I would have gone insane already if I were you. If the doctor approves, Mr. Bennet may also get some use of it… Once no one needs it, I will donate it to a hospital. It will not go to waste."

"Thank you so much, sir."

"Of course. Do you want to go downstairs now? We have good weather, but it is windy. Please take a thick blanket so you are warmer."

"Aunt Maddie, I-" Mary stopped when she saw the men and the chair. "Sorry, sir. I did not know she had company."

"Perfect timing, Miss Mary. Can you find one of your aunt's shawls? She is venturing out today," he smiled down at her.

"Of course," Mary rushed to get the shawl. "A blanket?"

"Yes, that two. Maybe one or two cushions to make her more comfortable."

"The smaller ones, Mary," Mrs. Gardiner smiled.

"May I?" Mr. Darcy asked. The footmen placed the stoppers to ensure the chair would not roll away.

"Sir?"

"May I lift you from the bed and to the chair?"

"You? Oh… Well, I suppose, sir..." Mrs. Gardiner blushed.

Mr. Darcy carefully moved Mrs. Gardiner, and Mary arranged her dress. Mrs. Gardiner noticed that he moved her as if she was a bag of feathers. Mary folded a blanket in a rectangular shape and made sure to cover Mrs. Gardiner's belly and legs while not having the blanket drag on the ground.

"Miss Mary, are you working with Gigi's piano tutor today?"

Mary paled, "He said to come see him after lunch."

"Oh, I see. Is someone with your father?"

"Yes, it is Lizzie's turn."

"Will you accompany Mrs. Gardiner and show her your favorite spots outside?"

"Of course," Mary smiled. "You will love the roses."

The footmen left, pushing the chair toward the stairs. Mary lingered, walking after them "Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes?"

"I thought you would not want me to partake in the tutoring after what I did to Miss Bingley," Mary looked down.

Mr. Darcy offered his arm for her to take. When she did, he placed his larger hand on top of hers, "Miss Mary, after everything I have heard about Miss Bingley's behavior, I believe what you did was warranted. Additionally, I do not believe in punishments that limit one's education. I would advise you not to do it again. Just because I know you are a pious and kind person, and this is weighing on you. Would you like to talk to our Bishop? We have not attended services due to all the chaos, but we work with him often, and maybe his visit would be helpful to you and our patients."

"Oh, I would love that, sir. Thank you."

"I am sure Bishop Villiers will be happy to make your acquaintance," he squeezed Mary's hand. "Excuse me. They need my help with the chair."

Mr. Darcy was glad that they had already practiced taking the chair down with Mrs. Reynolds. He would not do a practice run with Mrs. Gardiner and risk her delicate condition. As such, the process was seamless and efficient. The footmen rushed to place the ramps over the outside steps they used when bringing heavy objects into the house, like sculptures. Mrs. Gardiner was rolled slowly and without jostling. Once the wheelchair was on firm ground, Mr. Darcy crouched before her.

"Are you well? Any dizziness? Nausea?"

"No, sir. Only joy at feeling the sun touch my face."

He smiled, "Wonderful, White, the parasols… Just in case the sun gets harsher later."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

"Of course, I will be in my study. White will follow you ladies at a distance in case you need any assistance at all. When you want to come back inside, let him know so we can safely return you to your room or any room in the house."

"We will, sir."

Mr. Darcy held his head in his hands. He still had to talk to Miss Bingley, but he really was not looking forward to it. He decided to go with the colonel and to have Mr. Reynolds present. He wanted to spare Mrs. Reynolds another disrespectful encounter. He asked Bingley to make sure Hurst and his wife would be present as well. He wanted to ask his future wife to be there, but he figured he could save her from what he was sure would be a potentially aggressive and offensive conversation. She did not need the aggravation. He could definitely do without ever seeing the woman again, but as Master of Pemberley, there were unsavory things he had to do regardless of his inclination or lack thereof. He finished his tea, signed the notes Mr. Reynolds requested, and stood with a sigh. No time like the present.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I also wanted to thank you for your good wishes regarding my health. The past few months have been an uphill battle. For those coming from my other stories, I am still looking for a job, and things are getting tight financially. I hope this story may help someone out there who is struggling. Maybe it distracts you. Maybe it makes you chuckle; perhaps it makes you think. Those of us who are very alone in the world take our silver linings where we can find them. Your kind comments get me through very dark days sometimes. I hope you are safe and healthy wherever you are. -Lux-