Unequal Affections, ch 15 [i]Well, what do you know? I'm posting even earlier than I said I would, because I have some free time, and because I won't be able to post as early tomorrow as I usually do. Thank you to all my betas, and to all my wonderful [/i]supportive[i] readers (and yes, I include you men in that, even if you are so picky). So, without further ado... *cue sinister music*[/i] [hr] [b]Chapter 15[/b] Setting out early that next Monday, Elizabeth found herself hoping that this might be one of the mornings when Darcy chose to make an appearance by that tree at the edge of Longbourn’s property. She wished for company on this morning, and for some inscrutable reason felt that his would be the most satisfactory. He had said something the previous evening that seemed to indicate that it was his intention to do so, so it was with a sense of anticipation that she rounded the last bend in the path before the tree. There was a man waiting for her, but it wasn’t Mr. Darcy. It was Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth stopped and blinked at him. Every time she thought that they had bid their last goodbye, he seemed to reappear, at the most unexpected moments. He sprang to attention. “Miss Elizabeth!” “Mr. Wickham,” she said flatly. “What a surprise.” He grinned. “I was hoping it would be so. The regiment is leaving in just a few days, you know, and I could not go without bidding my dearest friend goodbye.” He approached. “I am flattered, sir,” she said warily. “I thought we performed that office at my Aunt Phillips’s house, did we not?” “Oh, but a leave-taking in front of strangers!” He came even closer. “My dear lady, you must know that you mean more to me than that.” She drew back a little, suspicious but not alarmed. “I am sure you are sad to bid farewell to all your friends here.” “It is true. I have made many delightful acquaintances. I would wish to keep a [i]permanent[/i] acquaintance in the neighborhood if I could, but I am afraid that that opportunity has been taken from me.” He looked at her significantly. Her eyes narrowed at his implication. “I do not see why. I am sure you will always be welcomed back.” “Will I?” He sighed in a manner she had once found quite affecting, but now did not. “I fear that is not likely. A man’s reputation is easily stolen, you know, and it is a source of great apprehension to me that once I am gone from the country, mine will not long survive.” “Whatever can you mean, Mr. Wickham?” He shook his head slightly. “I should like to tell you, but I am afraid I should not. It would not do to speak ill of one whom, after all, you… but I have said too much already!” Her eyes flashed a warning. “I apprehend that you mean Mr. Darcy will begin to speak ill of you after you leave, in order to deliberately tarnish your reputation. I assure you, Mr. Wickham, I can think of few scenarios less likely.” “And it is very proper that you should feel so,” he said earnestly. “I could never be offended with so admirable a defense of your betrothed. If only all the human race were as loyal as you! I am not the only man whose plight would be lesser, had he had the defense of a faithful friend.” Elizabeth stared at him. Was this deliberate sophistry on his part, to pretend to agree with her while still urging his point against Darcy? His clear blue eyes looked back at her, still with that same sincere, guileless gaze that had so convinced her of his truthfulness in the beginning. The conviction that had been slowly growing on her—that Wickham, for all his charm and apparent openness, was more difficult to truly read than Darcy—now solidified. “I think you should go now, Mr. Wickham,” she said slowly. “Mr. Darcy may be along at any time.” “But not before you let me farewell you. Your friendship—I hope you know what your friendship has meant to me these months, Lizzy.” That familiar name again. He reached for her hand and took it before she could stop him. “Perhaps I should not say so now, circumstances being what they are, but I cannot leave without telling you how I think of you—what I feel concerning you—” “Please, Mr. Wickham, stop!” She pulled her hand away. “You must not!” “But I must! Do not despise me for my feelings. I know I have no hope—I never had any hope, but you must believe that if my situation had been different—if I had been able to offer you the life you deserved—” he claimed her hand again and pressed it to his heart, holding her wrist too firmly for her to resist without a most undignified fight— “but we are both subject to our lack of fortune! You are doing what you must, and I am the last man on earth to condemn you—” “[i]Get your hands off her[/i]!” commanded a voice in biting accents. Elizabeth, her heart pounding with dread, started and turned to see Mr. Darcy standing not far away. She knew instantly that he was angrier than she had ever seen him; he was quite white with rage. Blushing deeply with shame and anxiety, she jerked futilely at her hand, but Mr. Wickham did not give it up immediately. Unlike her, he did not appear at all discomposed by the other man’s appearance; to her horror, he actually smirked while lifting her fingers to bestow a light kiss on them before letting them go in a most leisurely fashion. He sauntered casually in Darcy’s direction. “Ah, Darcy!” he said. “I have not had the opportunity yet to congratulate you on your engagement. I must say, I didn’t know you had such fine taste in women. She is completely charming! Did she tell you what close friends we are—have been, for all these months?” He stopped just out of his reach and lowered his voice so that Elizabeth could no longer understand him. She stood by in agony, watching as he continued to talk to Darcy, who stood as straight and tense and quivering as a bowstring, clearly struggling with every muscle in his body to contain himself. When at last Wickham ceased speaking, he turned his head just slightly and spat some words out low between his teeth, in response to which the other just laughed, shook his head and replied. They exchanged a few more comments, then Wickham raised his voice again, half turning toward Elizabeth. “May I say, my dear Lizzy, that I have enjoyed every day of our acquaintance? I will always regret that your lack of fortune kept us from forwarding our relationship in the manner I know we both desired. You really are wasted on Darcy, you know.” Then with a last, careless wave, he strolled off down the path. He left two extremely unhappy people in his wake. Elizabeth, horrified beyond thought at his manner and words—and at having been caught with her hand in his!—could scarcely look at Darcy. From what she could tell while not looking at him, he was still fighting to regain control of himself, and his anger was not in the least pacified by Wickham’s having left. Suddenly it became very important to Elizabeth that he not think her faithless or shameless. He must know that the situation was not of her making; while she was perhaps not precisely blameless, neither had she done anything to encourage such familiarity. Her shock at discovering her erstwhile friend’s false front was great, but her distress at Darcy’s distress became greater still. She lifted her head; he was looking away from her, his face set in bitter lines, his hands clenched at his side. Gathering her courage, she approached him tentatively. “Mr.…” she swallowed. “Fitzwilliam, you must believe me. I did not meet with him on purpose, and I did not consent to his holding my hand. He had it in too strong a grasp; I could not have freed it without a struggle. Perhaps I should have done so, but I thought he would let go in a moment and I could get away from him then.” He turned his head sharply at that. “Did he hurt you?” he demanded. “No! No,” she assured him. “Not at all. He was not rough, just… insistent.” He looked at her, then away again. “How long had you been speaking with him here?” he asked tensely. “A few minutes,” she admitted. “Did he have you in his grip the entire time?” “No, of course not. He only took my hand a few moments before you arrived. I was too surprised to react at first, and then, well…” “Is it your habit then, madam, to stand talking to men in secluded areas?” She gasped slightly at his biting tone. “Of course not! But Mr. Wickham was a friend, and I had no reason to—” “A friend? Mr. Wickham was your friend?” He stepped closer to her, staring her down with awful intensity. “Just what have you to do with that gentleman—if such he can be called?” “I made his acquaintance not long after I made yours. He was wintered here with the militia and has often been a visitor at Longbourn.” “I see.” He stepped closer still and gripped her shoulder insistently. “Did he come merely to visit your family, then? Or your younger sisters, perhaps? Was there no special relationship between you?” She swallowed, more than dismayed at what she saw in his eyes. “I cannot deny that we were very good friends at one time, but—” “So now you have progressed from merely friends to very good friends! What does that mean, Elizabeth?” He put his other hand on her other shoulder and pulled her to him, still looking fiercely in her face. “What happened, Elizabeth? Did you find his manners to your taste? He clearly found yours to his! Did you flirt with him? Tease him with your eyes and—?” He let her go abruptly and strode away, as if he couldn’t trust what he might do if he still held her in his hands. It was obvious to Elizabeth that he was in the grip of a jealous rage, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She had flirted with Mr. Wickham, there was no denying it, and although she might justly argue that she had every right to do so back then, she doubted that would appease him. There was a long, agonized silence before Darcy finally turned back to her and asked, with naked torment in his eyes, “Were you in love with him?” Here at last was something she could answer, positively. “No!” she said emphatically, moving toward him in compassionate impulse. “No, I was never in love with him!” She laid a hand tentatively on his arm. “I swear it.” She caught his gaze and held it. He searched her face for confirmation; seeing her sincerity, he sighed, and a little of the tension went out of him. “Many women have fallen in love with him,” he said with some bitterness. “Including half the women living in the region of Meryton, at some time,” she agreed, trying to smile and lighten the mood. Privately, she wondered if it was a woman who stood between them in their past. Had Mr. Wickham charmed a lady Mr. Darcy had desired? The thought did not please her. “And yet you were immune?” She could tell that his jealousy was not entirely assuaged yet. “I was immune,” she agreed. “I thought him agreeable, and, well—” she looked away sheepishly, “I thought him honorable and good as well, but his behavior today shows him to be otherwise.” “You are not the first he has deceived.” He took her face between his hands. “You are never to speak to him again, you understand?” he demanded tersely. “I will never receive him in my house or acknowledge his acquaintance, and you are not to do so either. You will be [i]my[/i] wife, and he is to have no part in you or your life!” Elizabeth stared at him, wide-eyed. Even a day ago she might have objected to such a peremptory demand from him, but today all she could think was—“What did he do?” she breathed. His mouth tightened. “He has betrayed my entire family,” he said shortly. And she believed him. Without understanding in what way, or how it related to Wickham’s story of woe, she believed what he said. He drew back and passed a hand over his brow. “I cannot tell you of it right now,” he said. “Someday I will.” She nodded slightly. “Only…” He frowned and looked down for a moment. “Do not speak of him to Georgiana, I beg of you. He has hurt her as well.” The thought of Wickham having hurt sweet, shy Georgiana only dismayed her further. His early words describing her drifted across her mind: [i]She is a proud, cold girl[/i]. She should have known, the moment she met the real Miss Darcy, how duplicitous he was. Making a forcible effort to return to normal, Darcy said, “Were you setting out on your walk? May I accompany you?” She shook her head and then quickly nodded. “I was setting out, but… I think I should prefer to return to the house now. It—I am afraid I shall not do the beauties of nature justice this morning.” He nodded. “You will… call later?” “Certainly.” He took her hand and kissed it. They bid quiet goodbyes and went their separate ways. [center]~%~[/center] Darcy returned to his steed not at all calmed. He set him to a gallop, his mouth grimly set, his mind returning again and again to Wickham’s taunting words. “[i]She doesn’t love you, you know,” he had said. “In fact, until you proposed, your bride was most outspoken in her dislike of you. Very witty about it, too. Me, on the other hand, she was always excessively fond of. Surely you’ve realized by now that only your great wealth made you acceptable to her? That if I’d had only a tenth of your money, I could have won her from you as easily as—” “If ever you come anywhere near her,” he interrupted with barely controlled venom, “I will—” “You’ll what? Call me out?” He laughed derisively. “No, you and I will never meet on the field of honor, Darcy—you because you’ve too much honor, I because I’ve not enough.” “I’m warning you, Wickham, I have shown you forbearance for my father’s sake, but never again!” “What do I need your forbearance for?” he asked jeeringly.[/i] Then he had turned and made that remark to Elizabeth. He should know better than to let Wickham’s taunts get to him. The man would say anything to get a rise out of him. If he had been secure in Elizabeth’s love he would have laughed in scorn, but as it was, Wickham’s words had been inescapably painful. As he had stood there, doing all in his power to retain some shred of composure, the one conversation he’d ever had with her about Wickham rose in his memory. She’d said, “[i]He has certainly lost your friendship, and in a way he seems likely to suffer from for the rest of his life.[/i]” Somehow, he’d forgotten, up until then. It had never even occurred to him that his nemesis might come between him and the woman he loved, but all at once it seemed far too probable. He had found them, standing as two lovers, Wickham holding her hand to his heart, speaking in passionate tones. Elizabeth’s bonnet had hidden her countenance, but he could see no overt signs of resistance on her part. The only thing that could have been worse would have been to catch them in an actual embrace. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her when she said Wickham had forced the situation. Of course Wickham had forced the situation! But his feelings in those moments could not be forgotten. It had been Ramsgate all over again, but twice, three times as painful a loss and betrayal. And Wickham had known how to capitalize on it, of course. But at least he had revealed himself in front of [i]her[/i]. At least [i]she[/i] would no longer be deceived. [i]Your bride was most outspoken in her dislike of you. Very witty about it, too.[/i] He shook his head fiercely, pushing the thought aside. She didn’t love him, he knew that, but Elizabeth would never have accepted him if she actually disliked him. She couldn’t dislike him. [i]Me, on the other hand, she was always excessively fond of.[/i] Once again, he had felt that helpless sense of futility that always overtook him when Wickham was around. How was it that he could not prevent him from charming and deceiving every person dear to him? Why was it that with all of his money, power, status and education, he could not protect his family from the machinations of a petty blackguard? When he had asked her if she had been in love with Wickham, it was with a desperate hope that she was not [i]now[/i] in love with him, that any feelings she had had for him had at least passed away. His overpowering sense of relief in perceiving her certainty that she had never been in love with him at all had still not quite been enough to erase the effects of his earlier shock; he could scarcely believe that if she had had money enough to tempt the scoundrel, she would not now already be his wife. He had seen Wickham’s wonderful ability to please far too many times. [center]~%~[/center] In their own way, Elizabeth’s reflections were nearly as painful as Darcy’s. She was sorry that she had allowed Wickham to impose on her so far. She knew Darcy was likely to come at any time; she should have been more cautious and kept a further distance between them. She was sure he had been deeply pained to find them so; how could he not be? As for Mr. Wickham himself, she had only to be ashamed of how easily she had been deluded as to his character and truthfulness. Was she really so shallow in her perceptions that she thought an agreeable man must be an honest one? She had been flattered—she could see that now. She had been flattered that the man all the girls in town were swooning over desired her company the most. And how pleased she had been to find her estimation of Mr. Darcy to be fully justified! She had taken such pleasure in disliking him. It was not, in the end, as shocking as it would have been if the truth had burst on her all at once. As her estimation of Mr. Darcy’s character had risen, so her opinion of Mr. Wickham’s had been falling. Still she had been hoping to find some way that they were neither of them very much at fault, as Jane had suggested so long ago. She had not wanted to believe that her opinion could have been so very wrong; there, too, vanity had blinded her. At least she had never taxed Mr. Darcy with the sin. They had both been saved that humiliation, thankfully. Perhaps he would never know how meanly she had thought of him. [center]~%~[/center] Darcy arrived sometime after breakfast, as he had said. He spent a few minutes in the parlor with the ladies, saying very little. Very soon he asked Elizabeth if she would like to take a turn in the garden, and she acquiesced quickly. He was in one of his silent moods, for which she could hardly blame him. She didn’t know quite what to say either. Were they really past what had happened earlier? She felt like something more needed to be said, but lacked the courage to broach the subject herself. They weaved their way through the shrubbery, then he took her beyond it to the larger garden. When they had reached a quiet corner where they could not be seen from the house, he halted and turned to her. Elizabeth lifted her face expectantly; she had no bonnet, since they were not going far. She thought he would speak to her or possibly kiss her, but all he did was look at her. Would he ever tire of looking at her, she wondered? He seemed to be searching for something, demanding something; his eyes moved over her features again and again; he set his fingers to her jaw, then her cheekbone. A self-conscious blush began to rise in her cheeks. “You ought to know what I look like by now, sir.” He did not reply, but she saw there was a frown in his eyes, and a familiar flicker of pain. “You are not happy. Will you not tell me why?” Now at last he turned away, jerking a shoulder. “Can you not guess?” She swallowed. “It’s because of what happened this morning with Mr. Wickham, isn’t it?” “Indeed. You must forgive me if I do not find it so easy to forget.” “Do you not believe me, then?” she asked, stung. “You don’t accept that I told you the truth?” “I accept that you told me the truth as you believe it, but perhaps you are not aware of the extent of your attachment to Mr. Wickham.” She was indignant. “I know the state of my own heart, sir!” “Do you?” Still he stared off at the tree line. “I have always thought so, but now I am not so certain.” “Well, I am!” She walked around him, and this time placed both hands on his arm where it crossed his chest, forcing him to meet her eyes. “There is no one else,” she told him earnestly. “There is no other man that I want to marry, no other that I think of.” “[i]Do[/i] you think of me, Elizabeth,” he demanded, “when I am not before you or troubling you? Do you look for me, wonder about me, dream of me at night?” “Of course,” she murmured. “What kinds of dreams are they?” he pressed her, capturing her hands in his. “How do you see me?” Her eyes shifted. “Dreams are rarely rational, sir. You know that.” “Yet they can be revealing. I think it was when I began to dream of you that I realized I was falling in love.” “I dreamed of old Mr. Fraser who keeps the bookstore the other night—does that mean that I’m in love with him?” she tried in vain to lighten the mood. “It was the nature of the dreams,” he insisted, bending closer. “Dreams in which I—” He broke off abruptly and stepped away, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “In which you…” she prompted, unable to quell her curiosity. “In which I loved you,” he said finally. “I dreamed that I loved you. My heart knew the truth before my mind did.” There were very few nights now that Elizabeth’s dreams did not include Darcy, but she could not say, even to herself, what they portended. They were always so jumbled and contradictory, disappearing almost as soon as she woke but for a few snatches. “I think I dreamed that we were walking around a very large house arguing about something,” she offered timidly. “I don’t remember what. I also dreamed that we were in the apple orchard, and you were helping me pick apples. You appear to be very adept at climbing trees in my dreams.” He was obliged to smile at that. “I was once, when I was a boy,” he acknowledged. He came back and took her hand again, caressing it rather fervently. “At least we were together, then.” “Yes,” she whispered. “We’re always together.” “Do you…” he hesitated, then went on as if compelled, “do you ever dream of [i]him[/i]?” She had recently, but the dreams were never comfortable or easy. “As I might dream of any other acquaintance.” His mouth tightened. “He is not any other acquaintance, Elizabeth.” “He is to me,” she insisted. “Please, will you not believe me? Mr. Wickham paid me some attention when he first came to Hertfordshire, but never with any indication of having more serious feelings. I enjoyed his company, but when he began instead to pay attention to Miss King, it did not concern me.” She smiled coaxingly at him. “I felt not the smallest part of resentment towards him or jealousy towards her. Is that not the greatest proof of indifference possible? If I had cherished lover-like feelings for him, I would surely have thought him a cad and her a coquette, but I did not. Truly, I had nothing but goodwill towards them both.” His face softened at her persuasions, and he slipped one arm about her. “You are forgetting to take your own good nature into account. [i]Your[/i] generosity is capable of much more than that, I am sure.” She shook her head. “You are quite wrong. I am sure that I am capable of the fiercest jealousy imaginable, if given sufficient provocation.” “Is that so?” With his free hand he began to trace her right eyebrow. “And what would you consider sufficient provocation?” “Is it your intention to supply it, sir?” “Not at all. Lizzy,”—she knew from this rare use of the diminutive that his mood had improved— “you must know that you will never have cause to be jealous over my affections. But…” he looked suddenly vulnerable, “I would, I admit it, like to know that you [i]could[/i] be jealous.” “If you left off paying attention to me and instead turned that formidable stare on another woman?” She pursed her lips. “I believe I would be sufficiently hurt and angry,” she said honestly. [i]Yes, but why?[/i] He searched her eyes for the answer but did not find it. “Perhaps we should go in,” she suggested softly. He nodded, but as she began to draw away he retained her. Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a passionate kiss on it. Then leaning forward, he kissed her, very gently, but with undeniable possessiveness. This time, she felt it down to her toes. “Always remember whom you belong to, Elizabeth,” he said quietly. She swallowed. “I am not likely to ever forget it, sir.” [hr] [i]*sigh*... I know. I know.[/i]http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82694#msg-82694Sun, 19 May 2013 04:58:57 +0100 Phorum 5.2.19 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82917#msg-82917 Beautifully said what I felt and was trying to express!(nfm)http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82917#msg-82917 Agnes Beatrix Derbyshire Writers' GuildWed, 25 Apr 2012 18:08:42 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82904#msg-82904 Re: why does Elizabeth need to apologise?http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82904#msg-82904
But she's not apologizing for doing whatever she did, so much as for the affect which she is now aware it had, or has, on him because of his feelings for her. So it isn't so much an apology as an acknowledgment of his feelings, her awareness of them, and her willingness to take them into account and consider them important. A necessary step towards their growing closeness and awareness and appreciation of each other in the relationship. A show of commitment emotionally if you will. Something which he has already done, so reciprocation will be not only be reassuring to him, but a further proof that she is serious about her promises to try and do so.

Speaking from personal experience, to be able to express such a thing not only shows the above, but also is a show of trust on her part towards what he has already expressed. It is very hard to make such a capitulation when there is no understanding that it is part of a dual commitment towards a growing closeness via such reciprocation. There is a lot less incentive to express such a nuance of emotion or acknowledge such an understanding when there is less of a sense that it is part of an ongoing process that is agreed to be mutually beneficial. I have a great deal of difficulty expressing such an acknowledgment when I feel that it serves no real purpose or will not be appreciated or returned in kind.]]> Sonja Derbyshire Writers' GuildWed, 25 Apr 2012 14:02:07 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82887#msg-82887 LOLhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82887#msg-82887 Monica P Derbyshire Writers' GuildWed, 25 Apr 2012 03:48:50 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82885#msg-82885 Re: Darcy doesn't need tohttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82885#msg-82885 Sandy W Derbyshire Writers' GuildWed, 25 Apr 2012 03:10:32 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82875#msg-82875 He should have told her in chapter 13http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82875#msg-82875
Quote

Now her blush became painful, her tone just faintly resentful. “I am sorry. I know it must be mortifying to you. Your sister would never behave so.”

The unwelcome memory of just what happened to his sister when she went unprotected to a sea bathing place last year caused his mouth to twist. “Nevertheless, I wish very much to be of use to you in this instance. Will you permit me to try what I can achieve?”

He should have said: "Do you really think so? Hear what your favorite, Wickham, did to my sister last summer"]]> Graciela Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 23:20:40 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82866#msg-82866 Wicked Wickhamhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82866#msg-82866 Debra Mc Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 22:05:15 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82831#msg-82831 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82831#msg-82831
Thank you for posting another great chapter,
~Fay]]> Fay Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 17:37:14 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82818#msg-82818 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82818#msg-82818
Is it Thursday yet? :)]]> CindyW Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 15:14:06 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82814#msg-82814 Not out of line, actuallyhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82814#msg-82814 Deb P Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 14:12:35 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82813#msg-82813 Re: Not a plot bunny--I was responding to Deb P who thought Darcy's reaction W was out of linehttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82813#msg-82813 Suzanne O Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 14:03:13 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82811#msg-82811 Not a plot bunny--I was responding to Deb P who thought Darcy's reaction W was out of linehttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82811#msg-82811 Mallory Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 13:27:14 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82798#msg-82798 Re: Not just the Regency time periodhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82798#msg-82798 stacy Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 03:31:49 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82795#msg-82795 Re: Not just the Regency time periodhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82795#msg-82795
Once they were alone, the man-stealing hussy having left the room, I think Elizabeth might well grab Darcy by the lapels and ask "What's up with that?" or Regency equivalent. He would explain that he had not realized the hussy's ulterior motives when she asked to speak in private, enticing him with the lie that it had something to do with protecting Elizabeth from danger. How could he resist?

So, yeah, I could see the situation reversed and Elizabeth behaving as Darcy did. Maybe Elizabeth is not declaring she loves him but can anyone doubt that she would not want some other woman touching him? He is going to be her husband and he had better act like it. I do not believe the Elizabeth of canon or of this story would accept less.]]> Mallory Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 02:10:37 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82794#msg-82794 Ditto! nfm(nfm)http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82794#msg-82794 MK Baxley Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 01:14:55 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82790#msg-82790 Contexthttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82790#msg-82790 Deb P Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 00:44:28 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82789#msg-82789 Re: Not just the Regency time periodhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82789#msg-82789 Deb P Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 00:37:24 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82787#msg-82787 Lol! :D nfmhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82787#msg-82787 Karentea Derbyshire Writers' GuildTue, 24 Apr 2012 00:31:58 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82786#msg-82786 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82786#msg-82786The end of the chapter was sooo good. Darcy definitely knows how to make a girl swoon. Thank you!]]> Elise Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 23:50:09 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82782#msg-82782 Please don't!(nfm)http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82782#msg-82782 Suzanne O Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 22:50:22 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82780#msg-82780 Re: Not just the Regency time periodhttp://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82780#msg-82780"Ani le dodi ve'dodi li",]]> Susan W Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 22:24:14 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82779#msg-82779 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82779#msg-82779
I didn't expect to get such a strong negative response. I guess I'll stick to lurking in the future - :P]]> Jennifer Ray Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 22:16:16 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82778#msg-82778 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82778#msg-82778 Suzanne O Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 22:05:33 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82777#msg-82777 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82777#msg-82777 Susan W Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 21:56:24 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82776#msg-82776 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82776#msg-82776-------------------------------------------------------
> Ugh!! You are so amazing to make me feel such
> contradictory feelings about this story! I love
> every bit of this tale, but I HATED Darcy's last
> line in this chapter. It must be my modern
> sensibilities, but it grated on my every nerve
> that he said she BELONGED to him. Grrrrrr!! >_< I
> am trying very hard to keep the time period in
> mind. Anyways, thanks for continuing to share your
> story with us!

I agree. I thought she was going to say, "Yes, master," when he told her not to forget that she belonged to him. As if anyone can ever "belong" to another.]]> Susan W Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 21:52:51 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82775#msg-82775 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82775#msg-82775
Last week and again this week I'm feeling the need to give Darcy a hug (I might have even said that last week). Poor man! He is trying so hard not to be a fool in love.

I think I'll go into a slump when this story ends. I hope you've got more waiting to put on paper!

Nereda]]> Nereda Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 21:46:41 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82774#msg-82774 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82774#msg-82774
Suzanne, may I say again how lovely and impeccable your prose is. I don't worry that I'm suddenly going to be hit with a clunky sentence, or convoluted syntax. You're in control of your material, and that makes the ride -- even when bumpy -- so much more enjoyable.]]> Susan W Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 21:35:38 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82770#msg-82770 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82770#msg-82770


Beth1]]> Beth1 Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 19:56:38 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82769#msg-82769 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82769#msg-82769
Quote

She didn’t love him, he knew that, but Elizabeth would never have accepted him if she actually disliked him. She couldn’t dislike him.

Me, on the other hand, she was always excessively fond of.

If only Wickham was lying. But it's true.

I feel like I am at a scary movie and frightening myself about what could happen next. Would this relationship be able to survive if Darcy found out what an insufferable prig Elizabeth had thought him--or, then again, perhaps turnabout is fair play. He had, after all, thought she was not tolerable enough to tempt him and she got over that.

Another great chapter--but they all are--and this story is terrific. Isn't Thursday tomorrow?]]> Adelaide Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 19:46:42 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82766#msg-82766 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82766#msg-82766
She wished for company on this morning, and for some inscrutable reason felt that his would be the most satisfactory.

And what she gets Wickham, of course. But it's a good thing she got to see him at his worst, and has become aware of his real character. (OK, partly, but enough to start thinking.)

Still hoping for W to have a fatal accident involving a piano or another heavy object. (Farm houses, trees, you choose.)

Looking forward to more!]]> Ulrike Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 19:01:15 +0100 http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82764#msg-82764 Re: Unequal Affections, ch 15http://www.dwiggie.com/phorum/read.php?5,82694,82764#msg-82764
I loved that Elizabeth got to see Darcy in a more vulnerable state. Maybe this will help her to understand him better. It also seems that she is beginning to understand herself a little better as well. I can't wait for them to speak a little more clearly to each other, but what they are doing seems on track with their characters and realistic for who they are and what their personal insecurities are as well.

Personally, I loved the last couple of lines. I think it all depends on who is saying it. Coming from a good man, like Darcy, it doesn't feel possessive and controlling; it would feel right and safe and well-loved, with a wonderful sense of belonging. From someone like Wickham, the feeling would be very different, I imagine.

Just two cents from an independent woman who "belongs" to someone very much like Darcy.]]> EAdams Derbyshire Writers' GuildMon, 23 Apr 2012 18:25:22 +0100