Only Mr. Darcy Will Do

was appreciative of his particular attention, even though he was under no obligation to pay such to her and she was totally undeserving of it. “It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter 15

As Elizabeth and Darcy made their way out of the sitting room, she walked slightly ahead of him. For a brief moment she felt his hand press lightly against her back, guiding her along. That slight touch evoked a dizzying shiver that swept through her, and she felt her face warm with an annoying blush. It took every ounce of effort to remain poised and calm.

They came out to the front hall to see that the butler had answered the bell and had invited the couple in. Elizabeth was pleased to see a very nicely dressed couple. She saw their eyes sweep the hall, taking in everything around them, and their faces exhibited an appreciation for all they beheld.

When Mrs. Ketterling noticed the two approaching, including the Master of Pemberley himself, she grasped her husband’s arm tightly as if requiring it to keep her upright. A stiff, nervous bow from Mr. Ketterling and an awkward curtsey from his wife were acknowledged by more formal ones given in return by Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ketterling,” Elizabeth said as she approached the couple. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I am Elizabeth Bennet.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Mrs. Ketterling responded, stepping forward with outstretched hands. Taking Elizabeth’s hands in hers, she said, “We have been so looking forward to this visit.”

Elizabeth smiled and then introduced them both to Mr. Darcy.

“It is good to finally make your acquaintance, sir,” Mr. Ketterling said, extending his hand out. As the men shook hands, he continued, “We have always appreciated yours and your good father’s prodigious goodwill and generosity to Lambton and the neighbourhood. Your late father was a good man.”

A pinched brow and a slight crease in Mr. Darcy’s forehead again betrayed his discomfiture at such overt praise. “Thank you. He was a good example. I believe we both merely do what ought to be done,” he replied. “It benefits all.”

The couple continued to heap praises upon the man quite profusely, obviously in awe of him. Elizabeth pursed her lips tightly together to keep herself from smiling at the scene, but she was quite certain at least part of her lips were curling up. She could not, however, mask the astonishment on her face at Mr. Darcy’s next remark.

“Please feel at liberty to come by Pemberley any time while Miss Bennet is here. You are most welcome.”

The Ketterlings’ eyes widened in unison, and they seemed to be struck speechless. At length, Mr. Ketterling found his voice. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. How very kind of you!”

Mrs. Ketterling gushed, “This is such an honour! Two of our sons work at Landerfield Manor, and I do not believe we have ever received an invitation from the Grudermans.”

“You have sons?” Darcy asked, his interest suddenly piqued. “How many?”

“Three sons,” Mrs. Ketterling answered proudly. “All are in their twenties.”

“Are any of them still at home?” Mr. Darcy asked, a noticeable twitch seizing his mouth.

“Our eldest is married,” Mrs. Ketterling said proudly. “The other two have their own quarters at Landerfield.”

Elizabeth watched their exchange in wonder. He truly seemed interested in this couple, and she felt a sensation of satisfaction that he extended an invitation to them to return to Pemberley.

They walked out, and the coachman opened the door to the carriage. Darcy stepped up. “May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

Elizabeth tentatively reached out, allowing him to wrap his hand around her fingers, bringing her up to the carriage. His grip was firm and warm, and he held on a few moments longer than was needed. Elizabeth was startled by the depth of feeling this simple act of courtesy evoked. She took her seat, hoping that when the Ketterlings stepped in, the flush on her cheeks and her shortness of breath would not be noticed.

When the three were settled in, the coachman closed the door. Mr. Darcy ducked his head to look into the window. “Shall we send someone for Miss Bennet later this evening?”

Mr. Ketterling put up his hand. “No, no. We shall bring her back ourselves.”

Mr. Darcy looked down toward his feet and then back up. “And when can we expect her return?”

“We shall have her back by dusk, sir,” laughed Mr. Ketterling.

“Good… good. I hope you have a very enjoyable visit.” His eyes briefly fixed on Elizabeth before stepping away from the window. He then turned and walked away.

Elizabeth fought hard to hide the confusion that swept through her. His remarks to the Ketterlings reminded her of a father making inquiries of a young man who has designs on his daughter. She was both flattered and at the same time wondered whether he was merely looking out for one of his guests. Considering she was a guest who at one time ruthlessly refused his marriage proposal, she did not deserve such kind attention.

Mr. and Mrs. Ketterling’s continued admiration for Mr. Darcy assured Elizabeth that they were oblivious to anything she was feeling. Fortunately for her, they soon began talking about Lambton and how much they enjoyed living there.

She nodded absently, wishing she could tend to their words, but found her thoughts straying back to Darcy’s words.

She wondered whether earlier he was going to say that she had every right to turn down Mr. Collins’s proposal. Did he know? Inwardly she shuddered. Of course, he did, reasoned Elizabeth. His aunt would certainly have informed him and his cousin just how foolhardy she had been in refusing him. She could only imagine what his aunt’s reaction would be if she was aware that she had also turned down an offer from her illustrious nephew! She turned her head abruptly to look out the window, feigning an interest in the scenery, but more so hoping to conceal from the Ketterlings the feelings of dismay she was experiencing.

Chiding herself for her wayward thoughts and inattention, she turned back to the Ketterlings and smiled. “It is certainly lovely here.”

They rode into the small village of Lambton, and Mrs. Ketterling pointed out what had changed and what had not since her and her aunt’s childhood. She pointed out the park where they played, the store that sold the very best candy, and the assembly room, where they both attended their first ball.

They took a turn down a small, winding dirt road, and after passing several small homes, the carriage stopped.

“Is this your home?” Elizabeth asked.

Mrs. Ketterling shook her head. “No, my dear. This was your aunt’s home.”

She reached out for Mrs. Ketterling’s hand. “This is where she grew up?”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Ketterling nodded. “Unfortunately, we only just discovered the owners are away,” Mrs. Ketterling told Elizabeth. “We had so wished to inquire about a tour of the inside.”

“But we can certainly walk about the grounds if you like,” Mr. Ketterling offered.

“I would like that very much.”

A cobblestone path made its way up to the front door. Ivy clung to the brick home, winding up and over the doorpost. It was a simple two-story home, but very well kept.

“Come around here,” Mrs. Ketterling said as she pointed to the back of the home. “You must see this.”

They walked around the back, and Elizabeth immediately heard the sound of water. She saw a bench situated out in the midst of trees, which appeared to be where they were headed. As they drew nearer, Elizabeth saw that a stream ran just beyond.

“This is lovely!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “My aunt had a stream behind her house.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Ketterling clasped her hands together. “And this bench is where the two of us often sat sharing our dreams.” She looked over at her husband, who had gone on down toward the water’s edge.

“Truth be told, Miss Bennet,” her fervent whisper was coupled with a slight giggle, “our dreams often consisted of meeting—and marrying—someone like Mr. Darcy!”