Carrie Bebris - Suspense & Sensibility

"Do you not even wish to know the living's value?"

"It is immaterial, but tell me if you like."

"About four hundred a year, enough to support in comfort a man of moderate habits—" Darcy paused. "And his wife, if he happened to have one."

Hope illuminated Mr Dashwood's face, but he quickly fought it back, unwilling to give himself over to it. "Do you think she would have me?" he whispered.

Below, the from door opened, filling the hall with the sound of ladies returning.

"That, Mr. Dashwood, is up to her. And to you."

He left Harry in the library and went to the balcony. Miss Bennet was in the hall below, with Elizabeth and Georgiana.

Kitty laughed at something her sister said, and Darcy reflected that, during the period of Mr. Dashwood's recovery, she too, had begun to heal from the injuries Sir Francis had inflicted. He captured her attention.

"Miss Bennet, there is someone in the library who wants very much to speak with you."

Curiosity crossed her countenance but did not erase her smile. She came up the stairs. "Who is it?"

He look her arm and led her into the library, closing the door behind them. "Receive him only if you wish."

Mr Dashwood gazed out the window, lost in thought, his back to the door. In his altered form, which Kitty had not seen in weeks and which had undergone still more changes since, it took her a moment to recognize him. When she did. she gasped."Mr. Dashwood."

He turned round. Darcy had never seen a face exhibit such a range of emotions in so short a span. Joy. Regret. Hope. Grief. Longing. Sorrow. Tenderness.

"Miss Bennet."

He went toward her. She took an involuntary step back and leaned closer to Darcy. He stopped.

"You are afraid of me.' The fact clearly wounded him. but he bore it with acceptance.

"No." She withdrew her arm from Darcy's supportive grasp and walked to Mr. Dashwood. Raising her chin, she looked him in the eye. 'No, Harry." she said quietly. "I am not afraid of you."

"I cannot blame you if you are, after all that has transpired."

Darcy retreated toward the door to grant them some measure of privacy, but he would not leave until assured that Kitty was easy in Mr. Dashwood's company.

She studied Harry a long time. "My sister says you have been ill."

"I was not myself when we last saw each other, and had not been for weeks."

"And now? Are you once more the gentleman I knew at Norland?"

"No," he said. "I fear that, like Norland itself, that man hasa gone forever. But I hope I am a better one."

Her gaze danced about the room, as if she were afraid to let it rest on him too long. His, however, never left her. He drank in the vision of her. cherishing each expression, each gesture, even those unfavorable to his suit. He had not seen her in over two months, and, depending on the outcome of this meeting, might never see her again.

"Mr. Dashwood, why have you called today? Surely you realize how difficult this interview is for me. The horrible thing you said at our last meeting — the wicked things you did—. Her voice broke.

"Miss Bennet, I—"

"We were engaged to be married, and you took a mistress!

She shut her eyes against the sight of him and turned her head. A deep, shaky breath followed. When she opened her eyes once more, she looked away from him, at the floor.

The anguish that crossed his countenance at the sight of her distress at least equaled hers. "Miss Bennet—"

"A mistress," she repeated quietly. "Have you any idea how much that hurt me?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes"

His own hands trembling, he reached for hers. She let him take them, but she would not meet his eyes. He dropped to his knees so that he could look up into her face.

"Miss Bennet, I have no right to beg your forgiveness, to hope that somewhere in the heart that suffered so on my account is a corner that does not utterly despise me. But Miss Bennet, if there is — if any chance exists that you might one day look upon me without revulsion — that I may someday regain your respect, if not your love—" He drew in an unsteady breath of his own

"Oh, God. Kitty — if I could but take your pain upon myself, how willingly, how gratefully, how humbly I would bear it!"

She withdrew one hand from his grasp, to wipe tears from her eyes.

"Oh, Harry, I want to believe you. .."

Neither of them heard Darcy open the door and close it behind him. Miss Bennet and Mr. Dashwood still had a great deal to talk through, and they did not need an audience. Darcy believed, however, that they eventually would find their way back to each other.

Elizabeth waited just outside. "You arc most mysterious this afternoon" She nodded toward the door 'Who is in there?"

The future vicar of Kymplon."

"You filled the living? That must be a relief — I know how the vacancy has plagued you. Whom did you find?"

"A promising gentleman who plans to take orders soon"

"He must be a younger person, then. I am glad — there is less likelihood of your having to fill the benefice again right away.

"How old a man is he?"

Darcy s brow furrowed. "At present, I am not altogether certain"

"Well, never mind. I am just pleased we can leave London with that objective satisfied." She headed back to the staircase and started to descend On the second step, however, she stopped and turned around. "But Darcy. whatever does the new vicar want with Kilty?"

"I believe he wants to marry her."

She regarded him in puzzlement. Then sudden understanding lit her expression. "Mr. Dashwood is in there?" she whispered excitedly.

"He is."

"And you've left them alone together? Shame on you, Darcy—'tis most improper." It was an empty admonishment— her eyes danced with delight as she returned to his side. "What is he saying to her?"

"I am not privy to that information."

"All right — as a fellow gentleman, what do you think he is saying?"

He looked into her face and took her hand. "I think he says that if she will grant him the opportunity, he will spend the remainder of his life proving himself worthy of her." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I think he says that if she can content herself to live on a clergyman's income, he will treat her like a duchess." He kissed the inside of her wrist. "I think

he says that—" He whispered the last in her ear.

"Mmm. I had no idea Mr. Dashwood was such a romantic fellow." She allowed him to lead her away from the library door. "And what do you have to say. Mr. Darcy?"

"That I pray your sister consents, for I do not think I could endure another London season such as this."

Elizabeth gazed out the window, momentarily distracted from her needlework by the beckoning landscape of Derbyshire in late summer. The flower gardens called, the majestic trees beckoned, and the warm afternoon sun tempted her to abandon her needle for her best pair of walking shoes.

But she wanted to finish the infant gown today, and so would postpone her walk until later. On the desk, a note to Jane also wanted completion. Elizabeth thought of her sister often these days, wondering how her sister fared as the time of her confinement neared.

Darcy entered, a letter in his hand. I have just received word that the old vicar of Kympton passed away yesterday. The living is now Mr. Dashwood's as soon as he is eligible for ordination."

"That is sad news for the vicar's family, but Kitty will be glad to hear it. She and Mr. Dashwood can now fix upon a wedding date."

"Do you think they will wed as soon as he takes orders?"