Only Mr. Darcy Will Do

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as the Ketterlings looked on in high regard.

“How kind of you, sir,” Mr. Ketterling exclaimed. “I already have made arrangements for her to travel post, but this will…”

“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth interrupted, angst filling her voice. “You are under no obligation to go out of your way for me in this manner. I cannot allow you to do such a thing! I do not expect it of you, and it is without doubt unnecessary!”

He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly about the room. “I quite expected you to protest, Miss Bennet, but I will brook no opposition to what I have stated.” He stopped and turned his face to her, his jaw firmly set and brows narrowed. “It has already been arranged.”

While grateful for his consideration, she wondered how much he had been told. Perhaps he did not know the particulars of what her younger sister had done. News of this most certainly would colour his treatment of her.

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, her voice soft, yet determined. “You may not be aware of the full extent of my family’s crisis. My younger sister, Lydia…”

“I am fully aware, Miss Bennet, and it is unfortunate. We can only hope that once you arrive in London, you will find that all has been resolved.”

Elizabeth looked down, a feeling of resignation coursing through her. He knew, but he did not know all.

“There is one matter, however, on which I must insist.”

All eyes turned to him.

“I will be sending a rider to London first thing in the morning to ascertain whether the roads are yet passable. While I have every confidence in my carriage and driver, there might still be roads that are washed out and bridges that are unsafe due to the recent rains. My rider will travel to London, determining the best possible route, and then will return with a report. It is only then that I will send my carriage for you, Miss Bennet.”

“Mr. Darcy, you are too generous,” Mrs. Ketterling gushed. She was not protesting; she was bestowing praise upon him.

Elizabeth shook her head, fully aware that if he knew about Wickham, he would not be so generous. She needed to acquaint him with all the details. She was surprised, then, to hear his next request.

“Would you be so kind, Mr. Ketterling… Mrs. Ketterling… to allow Miss Bennet to step out with me? There are a few matters I need to discuss with her.”

Elizabeth’s eyes shot up, and she looked over at her hosts. They both nodded with understanding and gratitude for all this man had ever done and was now doing. “Certainly, certainly,” Mr. Ketterling consented. Elizabeth did not believe they would deny this man any request.

Elizabeth stood up as Darcy beckoned to her. As they walked toward the door, he said to the Ketterlings, “I do appreciate all you have done for Miss Bennet.”

Mr. Ketterling waved a hand in the air. “No, Mr. Darcy, it is you who have done so much for her.”

They walked out slowly and quietly. Mr. Darcy finally broke the silence.

“Miss Bennet, as I was unaware of your departure yesterday, when I walked up to the ridge this morning and you did not show up, I questioned why. I pondered the strong possibility that you may have judged me completely devoid of good manners and breeding in giving you that pair of mud boots, because of what you may have alleged my meaning was in doing so.”

“Oh, no, sir, I…”

Darcy put up a hand. “Still, while I was up there waiting, I berated myself for again acting completely without propriety.” He let out a long sigh. “I imagined that you thought me a rake!”

Elizabeth let out a soft chuckle. “I did not, sir.”

He met her gaze and regarded her with contrition. “At breakfast, when I first heard you had left Pemberley, my initial thought again was that I had been the reason for your departure. You wanted nothing but to be out of my presence.”

“I am sorry to have caused you concern.”

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy stopped and turned to her. “There are a few things I need to relate to you. Some things occurred after you left that might distress you.”

Elizabeth looked up at him questioningly. Now she wondered whether he did somehow come to learn of Wickham’s involvement.

Darcy breathed in deeply and combed his fingers through his hair. “Apparently, after you left, Miss Emily went into your room looking for that book of birds the two of you had so enjoyed.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I gave it to one of the maids to return to the library.

Darcy nodded. “She was unaware of that and believed it to be somewhere in your room, so she searched for it.” He paused. “Fairly extensively.”

Elizabeth lifted her brows, encouraging him to finish.

“She did not find the book, but she did find…” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “This.”

As he held it out, Elizabeth gasped as her eyes recognized his meticulous handwriting. It was the first page of the letter he had written to her at Rosings. Red flushes of mortification spread across her face; her stomach suddenly growing queasy. “Oh, no!” Her hands went up to her cheeks. “I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy. I thought I had packed it away!”

“She claimed to have found it on the floor under your bed.”

Elizabeth shook her head as she tried to think. She remembered reading it one night on her bed and when Rosalyn came in, she quickly stuffed it under her pillow. It must have fallen to the floor, and she put the remaining pages in her drawer without ensuring all the pages were accounted for.

“Did anyone else come to know about it?” she asked, looking warily up at him.

“Not immediately. Apparently Miss Willstone put it in one of her pockets and forgot about it until the evening meal. She pulled it out at dinner.”

Elizabeth’s chest tightened so severely that she could not take a breath; she felt so much shame and distress. To have that letter come into the hands of everyone was one thing, but for Mr. Darcy to know that she had kept it all this time was another. “This is terrible!” she said.

“Well, it is not so much to you.”

She looked up warily and asked, “What do you mean?”

“As you know, I was not there. When Miss Willstone pulled it out, announcing that she had found it in your room, Miss Matthews snatched it out of her niece’s hand and began to read it. My sister recognized my handwriting and protested that we ought not be reading someone else’s personal letter. My good cousin, Hamilton, promptly liberated it from Miss Matthews’s hands.”

Very softly, Elizabeth asked, “How much did they read?”

Darcy shifted from one foot to another, Elizabeth recognizing this as a sign of his unease. “Basically just the first sentence of the letter. At least the Willstones and Miss Matthews only read the first sentence, but I believe my cousin has now apprised himself of the whole page.”

Elizabeth let out a frustrated huff. “They must wonder about the propriety of a letter written by you to me.”

Darcy nodded. “There has actually been a great deal of speculation, especially as to the nature of the first sentence.”

Elizabeth tried to recollect what that first sentence said. She ought to know the whole letter by heart, but with all that had happened, and with Mr. Darcy’s close presence, she could not recall. “May I have the letter?”

He promptly handed it to her. As her eyes read the missive, she took in the words.

Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you.

Elizabeth looked up at him and saw that his face appeared grim. “You said earlier that it was not so horrible to me. What did you mean?”