A Quest for Mr Darcy Read online

  ‘And ascertain the quality of the provisions before we commit to them.’

  The colonel laughed as Darcy joined him on the cobbles. ‘You need have no concern for the superiority of the ale or wine. We are on the London turnpike, and I defy even your refined stomach to complain after the savagery of supplies you endured on board ship!’

  Chapter Two

  Darcy awoke quite disorientated on his first morning back in London. Having been travelling for so long, it was strange to be in his own bed, the first rays of sunshine slipping softly through the gap in the shutters, and for a moment he lay on his back staring at the canopy, reflecting upon the benefit or otherwise of his absence from English soil.

  He felt strangely calm; he had laid the past to rest, and if his mind did drift towards it, he did not hold himself to account, but waited for the moment to pass, as he knew it would.

  The sounds of movement from his dressing room drew his notice and, tossing the counterpane aside, Darcy sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. His cousin would depart soon after first light, and he was keen to see him before he left.

  By the time the colonel set off for his regiment, bidding both his cousins a fond farewell and with a promise to return as soon as his duties permitted, and Darcy had kept company with Georgiana whilst she broke her fast, the morning was well progressed.

  ‘I had best repair to my study, Georgie. I expect Rivers to call again at any moment.’ He got to his feet as he drained his cup. ‘Will you be at your instrument later?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Georgiana smiled. ‘For I am sorely in need of practise.’

  Darcy squeezed her shoulder affectionately as he passed her on his way to the door. ‘Then I shall seek you out directly.’

  ~o0o~

  ‘Mr Rivers is arrived, sir.’

  Darcy leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms. ‘Show him in, Pagett.’

  With his butler on his way, Darcy moved aside a small pile of letters. He had barely made a beginning, but as they were so out of date, a few hours more would matter little.

  His steward’s presence in Town had been fortuitous, and Darcy had welcomed his call the prior evening. Rivers had been working to resolve a dispute between two tenant farmers near Baslow and had, following advice from the Earl of Matlock, been to an attorney to ensure all the legalities were answered for. His purpose in calling before beginning the journey northwards was to acquire Darcy’s signature to the papers and to discuss the estate in general.

  Darcy stood as the door opened and his steward entered.

  ‘Good morning, sir.’

  ‘Good morning, Rivers. You are prompt; I trust it is indicative of all being well?’

  The young man nodded. ‘All is settled, sir. If you would be so good as to sign.’ Rivers withdrew a sheaf of papers from his leather case and placed them before Darcy. ‘Here, sir – and again, here.’

  Darcy read the document through before finally picking up his pen and dipping it into the ink.

  ‘A timely intervention.’ Pressing his seal onto the paper, Darcy then sat back in his chair as his steward put the document aside to dry. ‘You did well to bring it to the earl’s attention so swiftly.’

  The young man blushed with pride. Rivers was in his fourth year of service at Pemberley, having received a good apprenticeship at the Matlock estate under the guidance of an excellent man who had served Darcy’s uncle for more than twenty summers. He had hopes of serving the Darcy family for at least as long.

  ‘Let us deal with these other matters, and then you may be on your way.’

  Rivers laid before his master some documents he had intended to show the earl and talked through a few other matters, before Darcy picked up the estate ledger. He cast an experienced eye down the first page and turned to the second, nodding as Rivers ventured an occasional comment by way of explanation. Turning to the final page, however, Darcy’s eye was caught by a name: Bennet.

  ‘We have a new tenant on the Estate?’

  ‘Ah, yes, sir. Mr Bennet is well settled at The Grange having taken up the tenancy last winter from old Mr Thackeray who is gone to live with his son in Hathersage.’

  ‘And this Bennet—’ Why was he even indulging such curiosity? ‘What do you know of the family? Did he come to you recommended?’

  Rivers closed the ledger and tucked it under his arm. ‘Squire Sellwood himself introduced the gentleman to me. Said he was a widower, a relative of an old acquaintance and recommended him and his two daughters highly.’

  Darcy almost laughed aloud at his foolishness. There must be any number of families named Bennet in the country. Besides, the Mr Bennet of his acquaintance was a gentleman in possession of his own Hertfordshire estate – he would hardly be resident in Derbyshire and beholden to a landlord!

  He turned to accompany Rivers who had picked up his case once more as he prepared to depart, chastising himself for his spark of interest. He needed activity, something to do, and as he saw his steward on his way, he glanced up at the blue sky. He would persuade Georgiana to walk with him to the National Gallery and then to tea at her favourite establishment.

  ~o0o~

  Darcy and Georgiana passed a pleasant afternoon together. There happened by coincidence to be a small exhibition of Dutch paintings at the gallery where they happily spent the afternoon before heading to Gunters in Berkeley Square, Darcy to drink tea and Georgiana to indulge in the delicate pastries.

  An enjoyable hour or so later, they began their walk home, and Darcy offered his sister his arm, turning their steps towards the top of the Square.

  ‘Shall you be obliged to attend Aunt Catherine directly, Brother?’

  Darcy cast Georgiana a quick glance. ‘I had not given it much thought, though I suspect an edict will be issued before long.’ It was impossible not to recall the last visit he had made there and the consequences and, despite his best efforts, an old familiar ache briefly filled his breast. Then, he felt the squeeze of his arm.

  Georgiana eyed him anxiously. ‘I did not mean to – forgive me; assume the question unasked. Let us talk of other things.’

  The sensation swiftly receded, and Darcy shook his head. ‘There is nothing to forgive, Georgie. Besides, with Fitzwilliam wriggling out of visiting Kent last Easter, he may also be obliged to attend.’ They halted on the pavement edge, waiting for an opportunity to cross. ‘Do you think you might like to join us?’

  Georgiana’s eyes widened. ‘Truly? You are certain you have not had sufficient of my company?’

  With a laugh, Darcy steered Georgiana across the street. ‘Are you certain you wish to pass a fortnight with our aunt and your cousin? It is many a year since you spent any significant time in their company.’

  ‘Aunt Catherine will always intimidate me, Brother!’ Georgiana laughed too as they turned their steps north, soon bordering the palings in Grosvenor Square. ‘But with you and Richard there, I am certain I shall weather it well. Besides,’ she shrugged lightly, ‘Anne is my only female cousin. Though she is much older than I, she is the closest thing I have to a sister, something I have sorely neglected.’

  Darcy frowned; he had neglected it too. Perhaps he should consider making the visit without delay? And that was not all he must do. From what Fitzwilliam had told him, Lady Matlock fully intended, in the absence of Darcy taking a wife, taking charge of bringing Georgiana out the following summer.

  Little did she know, however, that Darcy had plans of his own. He was staring thirty in the face; he had thought long and hard during his travels about the future – more particularly his custodianship of Pemberley and his guardianship of his sister. Both had equal claim upon him, and he felt all the responsibility for the security of the former and the happiness of the latter. It rested firmly on his shoulders, and he would not fail them, whatever his own hopes and desires had once been.

  Darcy’s first priority was to secure a wife. If he had distaste for such a quest, he bore Georgiana in mind. Resolutely, he clamped down on the s
lither of regret over how perfect a sister Elizabeth would have been for his own.

  ‘What was that?’ Georgiana’s grip on his arm tightened as she came to a halt, staring towards the railings bordering the park in the centre of the Square. ‘I thought I saw something move, a shadow.’

  Darcy peered into the gloom of the shrubberies bordering the garden. He could see nothing but motionless shapes, indistinguishable from one another.

  ‘Perhaps it is a bird, or a squirrel. I see nothing of concern.’

  He was about to turn away when there came a sudden fierce rustling of leaves, and Georgiana let out a small shriek as a face suddenly appeared up against the railings.

  ‘Good heavens! Darcy – is that you?’

  Darcy blew out a huff of breath, then laughed. ‘Bingley! What on earth are you doing skulking around in the undergrowth?’

  There was a further rustling of foliage, a few quick steps on the metalled path, and then Darcy’s good friend, Charles Bingley, came bounding out of the nearest gateway, a wide smile overspreading his genial features as he greeted them with enthusiasm.

  ‘I thought I heard your voice, but believed my ears deceived me!’ He pumped Darcy’s arm up and down and turned to bow to Georgiana. ‘You both look in exceptional health! When did you return? It is jolly good to see you, for you have been sorely missed, my friend.’

  ‘But Mr Bingley,’ Georgiana interjected with a puzzled brow. ‘What were you doing just now in the gardens?’

  Bingley looked a little sheepish. ‘Pay my behaviour no mind, Miss Darcy. I merely delay going to the Hursts. Forgive my saying so, but I am heartily sick of their company!’

  Darcy frowned. ‘Have you been staying all this time in Grosvenor Street? I thought you had been at your usual hotel.’

  ‘It may be in the cards, my friend, for Louisa is expecting an onslaught of visitors and my room may well be required.’ Bingley sighed. ‘My younger sisters are to make a stay of some weeks’ duration, and Louisa is quite out of countenance over it.’

  ‘All your younger sisters, Mr Bingley?’ Georgiana smiled. ‘I have heard much about them, but does this mean I shall finally make their acquaintance?’

  Bingley smiled too. ‘Indeed! My poor cousin who, as you know, has raised them since our parents’ passing, is experiencing some ill health and is in need of rest. Hopefully, some peace and quiet and the restorative sea air will set her to rights.’

  Darcy indicated they should walk on, and Bingley fell into step beside him.

  ‘I say, Darcy, this imminent arrival of the twins makes your return rather opportune.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘There is something I have long wished to discuss with you, and my sisters’ coming to Town bears an impact on it. Would you perchance be at home to callers in the morning? I would value your counsel.’

  Loath though he was to offer advice to his friend after his last attempt, Darcy nodded. ‘Of course. Call as soon as it conveniences you.’

  On the corner of the Square they parted company, and Darcy watched Bingley walk along Grosvenor Street towards the Hursts’ house, a renewed spring to his step, before turning to reclaim his sister’s hand upon his arm and direct their own steps homeward.

  Chapter Three

  Once he had broken his fast the following morning, Darcy repaired to his study where he found it difficult to settle, eyeing the small pile of still unopened post on his blotter unenthusiastically. Arriving as it had before word of his departure reached some ears, he toyed with relegating it to the hearth. He knew it was an approach favoured by his cousin, most particularly in relation to any letter bearing their Aunt Catherine’s hand.

  His gaze drifted to the silver salver beside the post. He had been back little more than four and twenty hours before calling cards were being handed in by those anxious to reinstate their connection with him. Lifting the card on the top, he studied the embossed name thoughtfully, then turned it over to read the few words penned on the reverse.

  Latimer was keen to see him, and Darcy suspected the purpose behind his prompt presentation of his card: his daughter must remain unshackled. But then, what did it signify? Was this not precisely what he sought?

  Fitzwilliam had the right of it. He was a single man in want of a wife. Miss Latimer would suffice as well as any other—was she not well educated, of impeccable lineage and with nothing but the common civilities to say for herself? Yes, she would suit him very well.

  Darcy dropped Latimer’s card onto the desk and began sifting through the post to determine if any might warrant his attention. A letter from his aforementioned aunt soon came to light, and Darcy almost laughed out loud. He could have predicted it; his letter advising his aunt of his proposed itinerary had told her pointedly personal letters would not be forwarded. How like Lady Catherine to ignore it! He cast a regretful glance towards the empty hearth before breaking the seal, but just then a quick rap came on the door as Bingley’s head peered around it, and Darcy happily tossed the letter aside and got to his feet.

  ‘Good morning, Darcy! I cannot tell you how splendid it is to see you behind your desk once more.’ Bingley came to shake the proffered hand, beaming widely. ‘Pagett will berate me, for in my eagerness to see you I dodged around his stately progress!’

  Darcy laughed, waving his friend into a seat. ‘You look in fine spirits. Are you well?’

  Bingley leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles. ‘I shall not complain, though I would berate the length of your absence. You were missed beyond measure, and it is not only I who delights in your return. It was merely a spark of ingenuity which permitted my escape from Hurst’s house without Caroline attached to my coat tails.’

  So Miss Bingley remained at home. Darcy almost shrugged. Though he had forsaken love, he was not quite so desperate!

  ‘We have much to catch up on, Bingley. Will you join us, take up your usual rooms?’

  There was silence for a moment and then, to Darcy’s surprise, his friend leapt from his seat and walked over to the window.

  Darcy frowned. ‘There is no obligation—do not feel under duress.’

  Bingley swung around. ‘No—no, it is nothing of the sort. I am merely—’ he ran a hand through his unruly hair.

  ‘You wished to speak to me—you are troubled?’

  Bingley’s air was unusually serious. ‘I have long reflected in your absence on the correct direction to follow—yet always I desired your counsel, and thus my deliberations have come to nothing.’ He waved a hand at the painting of Pemberley above the mantel as he walked back across the room. ‘I have been considering my estate. I am a poor tenant of it. Should I give it up?’

  ‘And what then? You were determined to purchase and not leave it to the next generation.’

  ‘Indeed, I was.’ Bingley sank back into his chair. ‘I did like Netherfield, very much. But I do wonder if its attraction was enhanced by the local populace.’

  Darcy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had long owned responsibility for separating his friend from Elizabeth’s sister, though he had kept it to himself. ‘Then, perhaps,’ he hesitated, unsure of his motive. ‘Should you not relinquish the lease, seek an establishment elsewhere?’

  ‘Well, there is the rub of it.’ Bingley ran a hand through his hair again. ‘I must now consider my sisters’ needs. All of my sisters’ needs. I have deliberated long and hard, yet I have failed to reach a conclusion which delivers satisfaction for all.’

  Darcy leaned back in his seat, eyeing his friend’s conflicted countenance. ‘Tell me your dilemma—oft, speaking of something encourages a solution to present itself.’

  ‘If only it were so simple,’ Bingley grimaced. ‘Well, here it is: the twins have completed their formal education under their governess and are presently awaiting entrance into the same seminary Louisa and Caroline attended in London, where they will duly receive the finishing touches to their accomplishments.’ Bingley laughed ruefully. ‘Though I believe they will presen
t a greater challenge to their tutors than my other sisters!’

  Darcy smiled. He had heard sufficient tales from Bingley of the twins’ exploits to understand he made no exaggeration.

  ‘So,’ his friend continued, ‘they will be here in Town whilst being tutored and thus residing in Grosvenor Street during the holidays. The former is what feeds my disquiet; the latter does likewise to my sisters.’

  ‘How so?’

  Bingley sighed. ‘I am reluctant to place Olivia and Viola in an establishment renowned for turning young girls into what my other sisters have become. I cannot bear to think of their merry natures being crushed or their joy of life constrained into oppressive formality, though I suppose it is almost inevitable.’

  With Bingley’s countenance expressive of his concern, Darcy knew not what to say by way of comfort.

  ‘But can you imagine, Darcy, how the thought of having the twins in their home for any duration is being received by the Hursts and Caroline, let alone my younger sisters themselves?’

  ‘And Netherfield? Should you return and take up residence, it is conveniently situated for Town and the perfect home for the girls when not being prepared for the demands of formal society. But what of Julia? She is full young yet, is she not?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Bingley nodded. ‘She will return to Scarborough to complete her formal education at home, by which time I am certain Cousin Margaret will be well once more. As for Netherfield, though it would serve the twins well when they are not under tuition, Caroline would, as a consequence, have to return to run the household. I am certain you can imagine how they all feel on such a matter!’

  Darcy comprehended his friend’s difficulty. Though he had rarely been in company with the twins, Miss Bingley had made no secret of her dislike for her younger half-sisters when they had made a brief appearance at Netherfield, and she frequently complained of them to her brother in Darcy’s presence. As for Miss Bingley’s liking or otherwise for Hertfordshire, he doubted it had undergone much alteration since she left with such obvious satisfaction in the year eleven.