Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge Page 8

  Darcy realized he had never before enjoyed an art exposition as much as that afternoon. In fact, scarcely had he enjoyed any afternoon half as much. He had allowed himself to openly have fun in a public setting and relaxed some of his emotional guardedness … all because of this quirky, incomparable woman. Elizabeth Bennet, you might not live up to my unreasonably high standards, and you are definitely not the sort of woman I thought I wanted, but my expectation of perfection has thus far resulted in disappointment. I never thought I would find such a paragon in one so lively and lovely. But perhaps …

  Their sisters waved to them from across the way, and it was fairly obvious Georgiana and Anna wished to be rescued from Miss Bingley’s peckish attention. Darcy and Elizabeth reluctantly joined their siblings and the other two young women. The expanded group wandered the gallery together, admiring or criticizing everything they saw, and some of the party even looked at the paintings on the walls. Miss Bingley ignored the works of art and especially turned a blind eye to the Bennet sisters. When she did condescend to speak, it was merely to insult or offend them. Although the Darcy siblings took great interest in the exhibit, they were preoccupied with attempts to diffuse Caroline’s snide jibes and bitter barbs ruthlessly aimed directly at Elizabeth.

  Inwardly, Caroline Bingley seethed with curiosity, jealousy, and pique. Who are these countrified Bennet hoydens who scamper off to Pemberley, visit a servant, and end up consorting with Darcy and his sisters? He certainly seems to look in the direction of the dark-haired dairymaid a great deal, and Miss Eliza is obviously using her ample armoury of arts and allurements to draw him in. How despicable for a woman to be such a flagrant social-climbing fortune hunter.

  Jane Bennet paid scant attention to either the displays of art or bad manners. She was far too busy stealing glimpses of and glances at the attractive, self-assured man across the room. Where in the world have I encountered him before? I am positive we are somehow and somewhat acquainted, yet I cannot recall where … Oh! Jane suddenly coloured and immediately wondered whether her sister’s perfect recall might be hereditary because an unforgettable image insistently clung and would not relent. It was at Pemberley. On the lawn. I met him that sultry and steamy hot summer afternoon.

  Darcy was in no humour to give much consequence to anyone or anything other than the beautiful brunette Bennet by his side. He was quite distracted by her proximity, by an infernal internal impulse, and by protecting Miss Elizabeth from Caroline Bingley’s snotty snootiness.

  Elizabeth’s attention was equally divided between the beautiful works of art on the walls and the statuesque one walking beside her. She took advantage of an opportunity to gaze up at him as she said, “Do you not agree, Mr. Darcy, that artists are colourful people who draw on their emotions and pigments of their imagination?” She was a smidgen disappointed when the gentleman merely nodded and agreed with the comment, apparently deep in thought and unaware of her wordplay.

  The object of Jane’s study finally spotted their party, and his secret admirer secretly admired the power and masculinity he exuded as he flashed a knee-weakening smile and strode in her direction. Gone was the wild, green-tinged raffish ruffian from Pemberley; although he was more decently attired, there was still considerable evidence of well-toned muscles beneath his tight-fitting maroon coat and embarrassingly impressive bunchage beneath his inexpressible fawn breeches. Miss Bennet’s breathing became more rapid as his polished black boots brought him closer with every step.

  Darcy: “Fitz!”

  Georgiana: “Richard!”

  Anna: “Cousin!”

  Elizabeth: “Colonel Fitzwilliam!”

  Jane began to hyperventilate.

  Caroline: “Oh. It is you.”

  Miss Sarah Dalrymple sighed, giggled, and sighed again. Hell-o, Colonel Stud-Muffin!

  “Well, well, what a pleasant surprise, Darcy … and all these lovely ladies. Oh, and hello to you, too, Miss Bingley.”

  Bows and curtsies were exchanged, and Miss Jane Bennet blushed anew. The gallant officer was not dressed in regimentals; still, he was dashing and extremely handsome, and the lady was very much affected by his male beauty.

  The Colonel glanced around and asked, “Is Charles Bingley not here with you?” He looked pointedly at Miss Bennet and assumed her charming blush was brought on by mention of the other man’s name.

  Caroline, who was obviously not affected by so much male beauty, sniffed, and said, “No, my brother is not here; and I might ask what brings you to such an exhibit. I have never thought of you as a connoisseur, Colonel.”

  “One does not have to be an authority, madam, to appreciate fine art. Otherwise, you would not be here either.”

  “Well, in the past, you did not appear to recognize beauty when it was right in front of you. Have you improved in the interim? Have you deigned to add ought of civility to your ordinary style? I dare not hope you have improved in essentials.”

  “Oh, absolutely not, Miss Bingley. In essentials, I believe, I am very much what I ever was.”

  “How sad.”

  “I beg to disagree … ”

  While the two continued to exchange derision, there was something in their countenances that made the others listen with an apprehensive and anxious attention; but Darcy disliked arguments and wanted to silence theirs, so he finally spoke up. “Miss Bingley and Fitz, your argument is too much like a dispute; so if you will both defer yours until you are alone, we shall all be very thankful.”

  “Well, cousin, I am afraid the argument shall have to be shelved indefinitely then, because I fervently hope I shall never find myself in such an unfortunate situation with Miss Bingley as you have just suggested.”

  Caroline Bingley retorted, “On that, at least, Colonel, we are surprisingly in complete agreement.”

  When George Darcy and Lady Anne returned from their mission in Kent, they accepted the invitation to dine with the Bennets; and it was settled between the two families the dinner would take place on Friday evening.

  Mrs. Bennet was an excellent hostess; the lady, her housekeeper, the cook, and all the household’s servants carried out the preparations for the engagement in a calm and competent manner. The rooms were spotless, the menu superb, and the goblets sparkled. Arrangements of dried and freshly cut flowers, strategically located, added a floral scent to the air; and brand-new candles were set into polished brass holders in the dining and drawing rooms. As she inspected the table settings one last time, Mrs. Bennet was surprised when her husband snuck up behind her and placed a gentle kiss on her neck.

  “My dear, you have outdone yourself. As always, everything is perfect, as are you.”

  The lady smiled up at him but then frowned. “Thank you, Thomas. However, I am undecided. Shall we use our best flatware or the new silverware Edward recently gave us?”

  “Well, the decision must be yours, love. All the same, since your brother and his family are coming, I would suggest the latter.” He picked up a fork and examined it as he spoke. “And there is no tine like the present to make use of his present.” He then whispered in her ear something about wanting to spoon later that night, though no one else was meant to hear.

  Mr. Bennet’s presence was soon replaced with Jane’s, as she was summoned to help with the place cards. The eldest daughter had the best handwriting of the family; so, using the diagram her mother had drawn up and the pretty cards Elizabeth had designed and painted, she inscribed the names of the sixteen people who would be seated at their dining room table later that evening. When Jane noticed the placement of her own name, she suggested switching with Elizabeth, to her mother’s surprise. “Why would you not care to sit across from the Darcy heir? Does he eat with his bare hands, wipe his mouth on his sleeve, or slurp his white soup? Are his manners truly barbaric, Jane? If so, why would you wish to expose Lizzy to such savage conduct? If not, what objection could you possibly have to facing him across the table?”

  “Mama, I know you are not serious; and perhaps I
should not say anything at this juncture, but I believe he and my sister are forming quite an attachment.”

  When Mrs. Bennet gasped, her daughter asked, “Does such a match shock you?”

  “Not really, my dear. I had immediately suspected Lizzy was attracted to the … What was it Robert called him? … ‘hanson barberin;’ however, are you telling me Mr. Darcy has regard for her as well?”

  When Jane emphatically nodded, her agitated mother cried, “Lud, what have I done?”

  “Mama, whatever is the matter?” Jane was instantly at her side. “What have you done?”

  “Oh, Jane, what is done is done.”

  “Yes, Mama. But what has been done?”

  Mrs. Bennet wrung her hands. “No, no, not ‘done’ … Dun! Lieutenant-Colonel Dun paid another visit earlier this afternoon while you and Lizzy were out. Since I assumed he would soon officially start courting your sister, I invited him to join us for dinner.”

  Jane’s eyes grew wide. “Oh Lud, Dun! London will not be big enough for a rivalry between John Dun and Fitzwilliam Darcy, let alone our townhouse. What shall we do, Mama?”

  “Well, nothing can be done about Dun now, my dear. We shall simply have to make the best of what could prove to be an awkward situation.”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, it is unfortunate. I fear Lizzy will have to break the poor officer’s heart, Mama. I truly believe hers belongs to another, as you shall undoubtedly see for yourself this evening.”

  Just then Mr. Bennet peeped around the door frame. “I am relieved to see the two of you still at home, for I kept hearing the word ‘Lud’ and feared you were both running off to join the Luddites.”

  Although the three youngest Bennet children – Kitty, Lydia, and Robert – would not be joining the others for dinner, they were permitted to remain in the drawing room for a short while to greet and meet the guests. Their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner were the first to arrive with their eldest son. A strapping lad of ten and seven, Evan was enrolled at Eton for the Michaelmas term and was only in town for a brief visit with his parents. His father, Edward Gardiner, was always a favourite visitor to the Bennet home. He often brought the children assorted trinkets from the import side of his business; and that evening he did not disappoint as he presented the three youngsters with a wooden box containing tic-tac-toe, draughts, and marbles. The delighted children obediently put the games away as soon as the next dinner guests, the widower John Burke and his eighteen-year-old son, Daniel, were announced. The Burkes lived in the townhouse across the street and were often invited when the Bennets entertained.

  The Darcy family’s arrival soon followed, necessitating many introductions; and when the youngest occupant of the room was brought forward, Robert Bennet’s parents were extremely proud as the little boy bowed properly and completely charmed everyone while being presented to Mr. George Darcy, Lady Anne, Georgiana, and Anna. They were not so proud, however, when, upon being introduced to Fitzwilliam Darcy, Robert’s blue eyes grew wide and he excitedly asked, “Are you Libazeth’s hanson barberin?”

  The tall, dark, and handsome Darcy heir stood gaping down at the tiny, fair, and adorable Bennet heir, just as a servant announced, “Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun.”

  The army officer, in his brilliant uniform, made a striking entrance but stopped short at the sight that greeted him. The three eldest Bennet daughters and their lovely mother were all blushing nearly as deeply as the scarlet of his regimental coat.

  “I beg your pardon?” Fitzwilliam Darcy asked Robert Bennet in a distracted manner. His attention was divided between the arrival of the soldier and the sweet little boy with his very intriguing question that had caused such embarrassment for nearly half the ladies in the room.

  “I beg your pardon,” said the confused Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun as he glanced at the occupants of the drawing room, “have I come at a bad time?”

  Mr. Bennet immediately put the young army officer at ease by introducing him to the two Burke men, the Gardiners, George and Lady Anne Darcy, Miss Darcy and Miss Anna.

  Already a bit discombobulated by the three-year-old Bennet’s ‘hanson barberin’ question, learning the identity of the brawny soldier threw Fitzwilliam Darcy further off balance. Georgiana had warned her brother he might have competition if he wished to pursue Elizabeth Bennet, and at Pemberley the lady herself had mentioned a very good friend who was an army officer. Darcy thought his sister had said he was a dun fellow; and he assumed she meant he was a colourless, importuning sort. Of course, one should never assume.

  It is a truth universally acknowledged that in nature, the more colourful and ornate male bird is designed to attract the female of the species. In mammals, however, the male might actually have to prove himself worthy by competing with another in order to win the right to be a certain female’s mate.

  Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun was an attractive, well-bred man in his mid twenties, about six foot and twelve stone, with a confident gait and posture. Well groomed and impeccably dressed and polished, he exuded youth, vigour, strength, and dominance. As Dun was introduced to each guest that evening, he made direct eye contact and greeted him or her with a warm and bright smile.

  His thick and vibrant wavy hair, which brushed the collar of his coat, seemed to change colour depending on how the light touched the burnished strands. Miss Darcy thought it was auburn with gold highlights; Miss Anna called it amber with streaks of bronze; Jane considered it to be more copper with fiery accents; and Lizzy, who was rather hungry as she waited for dinner, would have said it resembled cinnamon, nutmeg, and honey. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s opinion of Dun’s hair was that it looked like a clay-covered carrot-coloured mop that clashed horribly with the red of the ruddy bloke’s uniform.

  The women admired his wide shoulders, broad chest, and slender waist and hips. Beneath the dignified uniform, it was evident John Dun’s build was muscular, well toned, and very fit; Jane Bennet’s thoughts wandered to Pemberley’s lawn as she pictured a different handsome officer and wondered how Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam would look with his clothes on … er, uniform on.

  “I apologize for wearing regimentals to dinner. I was detained and did not want to risk the time to change into civilian clothes for fear of arriving during the middle of the meal.”

  Fitzwilliam Darcy mumbled to himself, “Taradiddling popinjay.”

  The ladies had no complaints whatsoever about Dun being in uniform, and they continued to study the good-looking officer. Madeleine Gardiner noticed the Lieutenant-Colonel had a wide brow, a clear and slightly tanned complexion, and symmetrical features, except for a small scar to the left of his broad chin. Mary Bennet sighed, like the schoolgirl she was, and studied his high cheekbones, square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. The fact the officer was clean-shaven and had neatly trimmed sideburns also met with her approval. Lady Anne Darcy admired Dun’s lush auburn lashes and eyebrows, neither too thick nor too thin, that framed big, round, deeply set emerald eyes that often sought Miss Elizabeth; and a concerned Lady Anne glanced toward her son.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy stood rooted to the same spot where the tow-headed little boy had confronted and confounded him. Robert Bennet was in the process of being whisked off to bed, in company with Lydia and Kitty; and their mother took a few minutes away from her guests to kiss her youngest children goodnight. As they were going out the door, the little lad could be heard saying, “But, Mama, I want to talk to the hanson barberin!”

  Darcy moved closer to Miss Elizabeth, turned his mind away from the conundrum of the poppet’s words, and redirected his attention toward the popinjay. Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun felt someone’s stare boring into his back, and he pivoted toward a tall and aloof gentleman who was standing, much too closely in his opinion, beside the beautiful Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Bennet introduced the two strong young bucks and wondered whether he could actually feel the tension and animosity in the air between them or if it was just his imagination. Fitzwilliam Darcy’s nostrils flared when the other man looked him sq
uarely in the face, and the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head. Dun raised his chin, his emerald eyes met Darcy’s glare full on, and the two males recognized and appraised their rival.

  In medieval times, nobility and knights alike displayed their trust in one another by extending hands to show they held no weapons; and the grasping of hands demonstrated open hospitality rather than hostility or intent to harm. The unexpected handshake between Darcy and Dun turned into a duel of sorts, with each increasing the pressure of his bone-crushing clasp until Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and gave them both a disapproving glare. The host completed the last of the introductions; and, as everyone took a seat, Mr. Bennet was unnerved to discover Lizzy had become sandwiched on a sofa between the dashing Darcy and the dutiful Dun.

  Elizabeth was both thrilled and mortified, and every eye in the room seemed to be unnecessarily focused on her particular seating arrangement. The thrill was the result of being almost squashed between two such magnificent male models of masculinity. The mortification was threefold: firstly, from being almost squashed between two such magnificent male models of masculinity; secondly, from said ‘squashment’ being under the scrutiny of her family and friends; and thirdly, from the knowledge she would soon have to disappoint one of the men whose thigh was tantalizingly pressed against her own.

  Chapter III

  Are You Well, Dun?

  At the dinner table, to Mrs. Bennet’s right and left, George Darcy and Madeleine Gardiner sat across from one another and spoke of Pemberley’s menagerie. Mrs. Gardiner said, “My husband is very fond of small dogs; and he heard so much about Dust Bunny and Pug-Nacious from our nieces that I finally gave in when Edward hounded me about getting a puppy. We decided on a Maltese, because an acquaintance breeds the dear little dogs. Then we had quite a lengthy dispute over which puppy to choose; and it was, after much argument, the pique of the litter.”

  At the other end of the table, the host was conversing with those closest to him, Lady Anne Darcy, John Burke, Edward Gardiner, and Georgiana Darcy. Mr. Burke finished telling a story about a ladder having been brazenly stolen from his townhouse property, and Mr. Bennet suggested further steps would need to be taken in order to prevent another such theft from their neighbourhood.