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Chapter 13
William looked the picture of calmness as he rode and so whoever looked at him would never find a man in turmoil, who was caught among self-pity, hopelessness, and a hypocritical dose of relief. The heavy weight he had carried around in his heart had lessened considerably after he left Netherfield Park in the company of his brother. They both rode on at considerable speed and in the companionable silence they often shared when one of them had his head busy with any type of matter. This reminded him of when they were children and they would both spend summer afternoons next to the pond in Pemberley, skipping stones until they decided to go for a swim. The memory, however, clouded with the reminder that usually a blue-eyed little girl, with brown hair caught in two braids, and her face adorned with a merry smile, would come traipsing towards them, laughing and calling out his brother's name as she fumbled with her afternoon dress.
Bennet looked positively glum, just as much as he had looked as they both had left Bennet's quarters early that morning, and for some reason, William kept remembering the words they had exchanged before that.
"Do you not realise what you are putting at stake here?" He had finally demanded from his brother as he paced the room.
Bennet had looked at him with a frown. He had been ranting about his lady-love, talking about the way her eyes shone and her smile lit the room, calling her an angel and referring to her in pronouns and nameless endearments as if to avoid whatever suspicion he was afraid to arouse. William quite understood the feeling. But as he pictured Elizabeth Bingley's merry violet orbs and her delighted smile as she bent upon a pianoforte or teased him, sent him into a fit of agitation. He had dryly swallowed and uttered the question quite bitterly.
It is certainly not like I cannot see those eyes and that smile myself, Ben. He had thought at the moment.
Bennet's words were cut short and as aforementioned, he frowned. He looked at his elder brother without quite understanding the meaning of this interruption and asked for an explanation. William had sighed. He knew his brother enough to be sure that he would indeed demand an argument for such eye-opening inquiries and speeches.
"Bennet," he had said with a sigh, "has she ever professed her love to you?"
"She is a proper girl, William. She would never simply blurt out her feelings, whatever they are, without me professing mine first and since I have not done so yet, I am afraid I must disappoint you."
"Did she ever demonstrate her feelings then, in little actions?"
Bennet had seemed pensive, as if studying the actions of his beloved in the past few days.
"She is fond of me. That I know. We grew up together, Will, and we have been great friends - you do know that it was always me, Meg, Beth, and Henry when we were children. Pray, what is the purpose of this?"
"My purpose is to tell you that from what I have seen, our cousin sees you as no more than a cousin - a brother, perhaps - a dear friend."
Bennet's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
"Ben, I have been watching her for quite some time and that is the way she treats all of her friends and cousins. You merely think it different because you are so enraptured with her."
"Is that possible?"
"I am only telling you as I find. I think you can judge very well for yourself."
In the few seconds Bennet had seemed to think on the matter, his demeanour had succumbed to such a change that William had grown quite alarmed. His countenance had dropped, his eyes lost their usual glint, and he had instantly looked pale and forlorn. William felt his heart wrench with the knowledge that they were both suffering for the same woman. In the face of such, he had grown further uneasy and tense. All he had wanted was to leave the cursed room before he would go mad.
"Oh," Bennet had finally whispered, "how could I have not seen this? Can a man grow so attached, he goes quite blind?"
William had just shrugged, trying to ease his body from its stiffness.
"What did you mean by asking if I knew what I was putting at stake?" His brother then inquired.
Finding that he could no longer endure it, he had just replied "There is something that you might want to know. While you are not loved by the one you cherish, another is loving you as we speak."
Bennet had shot him a questioning look with an eyebrow raised and an absurd expression.
"Miss Collins?"
William just shook his head and set his gaze in Bennet's eyes in a steady, meaningful way. The brandy-coloured eyes widened. At last William could see that his brother had it all cleared. Bennet's chin momentarily dropped.
"You mean...?"
William vigorously nodded, remembering Margaret Fawley's eyes full of love as they turned on Bennet. Bennet's head dropped in languid desolation and William slowly turned around, leaving the room with his brother and his suffering in it. He had felt that Bennet might have wanted to be alone for while, so he could let the truth sink in.
As he now rode on to London, however, William had their words echoing in his head with Elizabeth's smile branded in his memory as if it had been permanently burned there. He only hoped it would not be so permanent as to leave severe scarring in his heart.
You are such a fool, Darcy! You are fancying this stupid infatuation with a little cousin who grew out of the title and stands up to you with her pert opinions as somethig like what your parents share! You are a fool for ever thinking that you shall never recover from it... What is this about not being able to love any other woman save her? This is all nonsense! You are indeed a fool. This all just one big lapse in your life - that is what it was.
Repeating this resolution to himself, he rode all the way to London in silence, without once taking his eyes from his brother, lest he lost all the grip he had on his mind.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth strained them the best she could and her eyes fell on the figure framed by the window. Coppery hair and a light green morning dress indicated that the person whose hands were grabbing the windowsill in bare arms and apparent desolation was indeed who she thought it was. Elizabeth nagged on her lower lip as she walked up towards the imposing manor, hat in one hand, gloves and horsewhip in the other. Walking was hardly the term to describe the way Miss Bingley's feet were set one after another on the ground in a manner that would be described by her aunt Filmont as hardly ladylike. She huffed, gripped her skirts to keep them out of the way, and marched her the way into the house through the kitchen door.
Another one of Elizabeth's personality traits: whenever misunderstanding something, immediate anger.
She ripped into the kitchen, alarming the servants there and with a curt nod, walked into the dining room and out into the hallway. She curtsied hurriedly to her aunt and uncle Fawley, who looked after her questioningly as she muttered something incoherent.
Within minutes she rushed up the main staircase and found herself standing before her cousin's bedroom door. She knocked gently, after wiping away the sweat that had formed on her temples and taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Margaret opened the door and she seemed hardly affected until she perceived it was Elizabeth was standing there before her. Her eyes acquired a certain shadow about them.
"Yes, Beth?"
Elizabeth entered the room without saying a word and motioned the other girl to shut the door behind her. She immediately began pacing as thoughts wove themselves in her head, thinking of how to ask what the matter was, how to put the words as not to hurt the other girl, and not to make her own self enter a ballistic speech on her own frustration.
Margaret had calmly seated herself on an armchair and was watching her pityingly and yet adoringly. Her hair was caught in a simple do and her morning dress was graceful, barely flaring compared to her other more fashionable ones. She looked like a picture of the recent Mrs. Bingley in her younger years, only Elizabeth had never really seen a portrait of her mother in such spirits. With a faint but nevertheless sad smile, Margaret cleared her throat softly.
"Does your odd behaviour have anything to do with Bennet's leaving?" The last proffered verb came out in a most pitiful manner.
Elizabeth stopped her pacing and stood framed by the window she had minutes before stared at from the outside. The faint sunlight framed her figure as her shoulders slumped forward.
"Yes. What happened? Why did he leave?"
Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she started speaking in gentle tones, even if her words were barely so.
"Do you expect me to know? He did not even say goodbye to me, Beth...I made it to go outside, but when I finally did, he was already gone. The last I saw of him, he was going downstairs. I asked him if he was going down for breakfast - I had just got up - and he did not answer me. He just plain ignored me, with this hurtful look in his eyes, almost as if he resented me..."
"He did not say a thing to you?" Asked Elizabeth, frowning.
"No..." Said Margaret, wiping her tears with shaky hands. "He bowed, if he calls that bowing. But let us leave it aside, Beth..."
Elizabeth slowly walked over to the armchair her cousin was in and sat at its arm, gently taking the girl in an embrace and soothingly kissing her head. Poor, poor Margaret, who could never harm so much as a fly, was hurt. By Bennet of all people!
He should have known better than to hurt her. Oh, Ben! Sometimes I believe you more reckless than I!
Soothing, comforting, and whispering words of comfort into her cousin's ear, Elizabeth nearly ended up crying as well in her frustration. Her tears were confined within the boundaries of her eyes, but they were nearly spilling out. She had every ounce of her self-control at hand, trying her best to be strong. Margaret sobbed quietly, not wanting to make a fuss, and Elizabeth thanked God for the privacy of their room. At least she hoped their parents remembered what it was like to knock.
"You did not argue, then? Or discussed anything regarding your...feelings?" She managed to ask the crying girl.
Margaret wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "No. We had not spoken since last night, when we parted!"
"You do know we will have to speak to Aunt Lizzy of this if we wish to know what happened."
"Oh, no!" Margaret's crying subsided completely at this. "No, please, Beth. We shan't tell a soul. We shall leave this matter aside and not mention it. Ben does not return my feelings. I must have said or done something that made him realise what I felt for him and it hurt him. Hurt him so much he was not even able to look into my eyes again. Do not say a thing more on the subject, please."
"But..." But he would not look into my eyes either!
"Please, Beth."
Margaret's big, green, pleading eyes made Elizabeth silently acquiesce to this. Her cousin was hurt as it was and she did not know what she could come across if she pursued the matter further. She silently nodded, kissed the girl's forehead softly, and they just stayed where they were, holding each other and thinking about what was to happen now.
Mrs. Bingley's gaze fell placidly on her daughter's silent figure as she ate her meal that evening. Elizabeth was wearing a simple evening dress, her hair pinned up with barely a curl left out from the twist of braids, and she looked pensive, almost so in excess. Margaret, sitting at Elizabeth's elbow seemingly so in some reassuring manner, was barely touching the morsels of food in her plate. The girls' spirits were obviously shaken, but they seemed so in such different ways that Mrs. Bingley's attention was piqued. While Elizabeth looked sombre, Margaret looked only relenting.
"Bennet said he will send us an express as soon as he and William reach London," Mrs. Darcy was saying to Mr. Bingley, "William seemed quite anxious to leave. I apologise, Charles, but I assure you that something serious seemed to be bothering both of them."
Elizabeth raised her eyes from her plate upon hearing this; fork and knife instantly freezing in their position as she gave the conversation on the other end of the table her full attention.
"Did the boys develop on the business they have to attend to in town to you, girls?" Mrs. Darcy asked in innocence while turning to both her nieces.
Her sisters and husband all glared at her and Elizabeth was no fool to miss their actions. She cleared her throat as she reached for her glass of water and took a sip before replying evenly.
"No, Aunt Lizzy. I am afraid Ben was rather...vague on the subject." Her eyes glinted over with humour as she put on a teasing smile to play along with her aunt's attempt at sounding innocently casual. "They would not let us into whatever it is they are up to in any way whatsoever!"
Mrs. Darcy eyed her niece knowingly, seizing the blue-eyed version of herself with the right corner of her lip curled into a half-smile. Mr. Darcy seemed all amusement at the little scene and with the attention focused on both aunt and niece, Margaret could sigh and be sad all she wanted without having the attention fall on her. Only Elizabeth felt the heaving of her friend's chest even if she had not witnessed it.
Sobering up from their sudden turn to humour, Mr. Darcy frowned. "Bennet did seem at low spirits when he left this morning. Did they not tell you anything, John?"
"We do not mean to pry." Said Mrs. Darcy after a moment's thought. "We are just worried about them leaving so abruptly and to us they would not say a thing!"
John Fawley rested his fork on his knife as a servant filled his plate with more food.
"No, Aunt, I am sorry. I could write them and ask what the matter is, but then I am afraid I would not be allowed to disclose any information to you except for the gravity of the situation, whatever it is."
"Of course." Nodded Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth thought he looked hurt.
Well, why shouldn't he be? His sons have probably counted on them for everything and now that something is amiss, they turn their backs on the people that are most worried about them. Oh, Bennet Darcy...You are hurting even your own parents with this nonsense!
She eyed her uncle and aunt sadly.
I am as confused as them. It all seems like such a great mystery!
Elizabeth settled in her chair with little comfort and tried her best to look as little affected as possible. Their parents were all suspicious as it was.
"Anyway," said Mrs. Darcy with a tinge of sadness in her voice, "we will be with them in a short time. I am afraid we must announce to all of you that Fitzwilliam and I will be leaving for Pemberley in three days."
"So soon?" Asked Mr. Bingley.
Mrs. Darcy's eyes glowed humorously. "'I am afraid we have imposed on your hospitality long enough, sir.'"
Mr. Bingley laughed delightedly. "Indeed, Lizzy?"
His sister-in-law smiled, equally laughing mildly. "Indeed. Seriously, sir, you cannot expect us to be away from our children when they are obviously gone...odd."
"Well then," said Mrs. Fawley with a glance at her husband, "we shall leave with you, Lizzy. John has been due back in London for some time and Meg has to ready herself to go to Cornwall to be with John's sister."
Elizabeth was alarmed at this.
"Cornwall?" She turned to her cousin. "You did not mention any of that to me, Meg."
Margaret shyly nodded. "I did not because it was not certain yet that I would go. But I spoke with mama this afternoon and it is all set. Aunt Gilbert is expecting me for Easter. I am afraid I will not be here with you for Marianne's wedding."
The adults watched this little interaction with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. The fact that both girls sitting in the table bore remarkable similarities to two of the elder ladies sitting there as well was the main factor in all this.
"Well, that leaves Netherfield for ourselves until it is time to go to London and then to Linton Park." Said Mr. Bingley with an apologetic smile at Elizabeth. He knew how much his daughter found herself lonely with no company around.
Before leaving the table that evening, however, Elizabeth rounded the table and gently placed a hand at her father's shoulder.
"Do not worry about me, papa. I could never be lonely with you, mama, and a stable full of horses here."
Chapter 15
The carriage trudged slowly on the street and came to a slow stop. Never one to do well in closed quarters, its occupant was anxious to get out. She relished when the door finally opened and a hand was placed before her, which she took with a grateful nod. The young woman smiled, rubbed her gloved hands, eyed the puffed sleeves of her dress with something bordering on dismay, and turned to search for her company.
"Look! There she is!"
"Beth!"
Elizabeth Bingley turned around and grinned when she saw Henry Curwood and Margaret Fawley scrambling to meet her. After a fortnight spent in the silence of lazy afternoons provided by the company of her parents in the country, Elizabeth glowed with joy as she found herself in London, its populated streets, and its general bustle. The change was a welcome one after the troubling month spent in Hertfordshire and she was even happier to be in Town when Margaret wrote to her from there to say that even though arrangements were being made for her trip to Cornwall, she would still spend a few weeks in London with her parents. Elizabeth gladly told her parents that she would have qualms as to returning and now she stood in Hyde Park, meeting Henry and Margaret as if it had been ages since she had last seen them.
But as she beamed under her hat, she could not refrain from remembering that one person was missing in the picture and other lines of the letter sent to her from Margaret two days after the Fawleys' leaving Netherfield Park suddenly darted across her mind with nagging persistency.
'...John and I went to call on the Darcys today. Apparently, Aunt Lizzy and Uncle Darcy came to London to meet with her sons before heading to Derbyshire. Our aunt received us very warmly, even if her demeanour was an uneasy one, and she told us that even if the arrangement was that they would meet with them in London, Bennet has left for Derbyshire by himself already, claiming that he was feeling indisposed to be in Town. Cousin William arrived shortly from the club during our visit and he was all odd about Bennet's leaving. He was as silent as ever, forever nodding to what Aunt Lizzy said...'
Elizabeth shook her head to clear her thoughts and smiled as she exchanged pleasantries with the younger Mr. Curwood. She had missed Henry when all that confusion had suddenly engrossed itself in heartbreak and hasty departures.
"How was the country?" He asked politely.
"It was fine. There was not much to do after everyone left," she said, directing her words to Margaret, "but I found pleasant company in our Clayton cousins."
"I hope you kept out of the brook." Henry said with a smile.
Elizabeth feigned to be indignant. "Meg! Already blurting out things you should not?"
Henry laughed. "No. You will have to knock on Darcy's door for that one. But I am assuming you did quite the opposite."
She grinned widely, even if checking Margaret at the mention of Bennet's name. Her friend seemed unaffected, however, as she was smiling as well.
"Of course. Say, how is little Anne?"
Henry smiled at the mention of his little ten-year-old sister who was attending boarding school in France.
"She is doing well. Mama is going to visit her this Easter and then bring her back in the summer."
"She must be quite a grown young lady by now. Oh, how we used to corrupt this child when we were younger! No wonder your mother sent her to school away from us."
Henry laughed. "Mother assures me that she has quite outgrown the corruption." And upon seeing the alarmed look on Elizabeth's face as she seemed shocked in thinking that Mrs. Curwood thought her indeed capable of corrupting a child, he amended. "She did not put it in those exact words, but..."
"Grandmama called on us yesterday," Margaret quipped in, "she said she is all set to make you shine in Linton, Beth."
Elizabeth turned to glare at Henry when he smirked at that.
"What is she going to do?" She asked fearfully.
"She is only set on having the seamstress go to ---- St. so you can have new dresses made and see if new bonnets, hats, gloves, and shawls are bought for you."
"Papa will be delighted for sure." She said with mirth.
Margaret smiled. "Oh, Beth... I would think your father rather indulgent in this point."
She sighed. "I know. If I show any interest in whatever Grandmama is up to, he will buy everything I set my eyes on. Or maybe he will just thrown her out of the house. Depends on Uncle Darcy being around...I think papa rather measures Grandmama's follies by Uncle Darcy's reaction to them. "
"The Darcys left for Derbyshire yesterday." Henry quipped in. "I know because Aunt Darcy went to call on Mother the day before and told her so."
"Then we will be somewhat shorter of money for this next season." She said mock misery and then sobered up, glancing at Margaret and seeing that perhaps it would be fine to ask what she was about to. "How does Aunt Lizzy fare? Is she very much concerned for Ben still?"
"He wrote her saying that his health is very much improved. Apparently it is nothing but a mere indisposition."
"I see." Said Elizabeth, her lips tight.
"You need not sound so, Beth." Said Henry, rather concerned. "I realise they were rather obtuse in their leaving Hertfordshire, but they did have business here in Town, regarding some land Uncle Darcy is buying for William around Pemberley. And our uncle is very particular about having them both dealing with business concerning their future so they can start getting around to it and he set them both about it this time. An urgent matter came up and they both had to come."
"He still could have sounded less lame upon explaining matters." She said angrily while capturing the dismayed look on Margaret's face.
Had not she finished the sentence, Elizabeth perceived a young lady looking at them from where she stood, not ten feet away. She held a parasol above her head as she spoke to another two women of her age, but seemed not so engaged in their conversation as she was busy watching the three of them. When Elizabeth met her eyes, the woman did not turn away, but rather kept on looking. She had a familiar way about her, Elizabeth noticed, in the golden glints of her caramel-coloured curls and mild brown eyes. She was very prim and elegant, in a fashionable cream-coloured dress with very full skirts. With her hair pulled away from her face she looked remarkably aristocratic and very pleasant, but Elizabeth decided she definitely resembled someone she knew in certain traits, such as the way she held her parasol or how she often covered her mouth when laughing. Her smile reminded her severely of her Aunt Kitty and her gentle manners those of her own mother. She glanced at Margaret, who was the closest reference when it came to finding resemblance to Mrs. Bingley and perceived that indeed the girl she was looking at did have the same air as hers, even when she did not match Margaret and her mother in their similar perfect features.
With so much familiarity and the strange way the woman was looking at her, she did not find herself one bit surprised when the ladies turned to look at them. Elizabeth tried to look away, but failed miserably at being discreet.
"Is there something the matter, Beth?" Asked Margaret.
"There certainly is," quipped in Henry, "she hardly heard a word I said."
"Meg," she said in a low whisper, "do you recognise that lady?"
"The short one?" Asked Henry.
Elizabeth cut him off. "No, the tall one in the cream-coloured dress. Do you know her?"
Margaret frowned when glancing discreetly at the women. "Well, you shall certainly find out now. They are approaching us."
Elizabeth turned around and found out that indeed, the three women were walking towards them, the one she found so amazingly intriguing leading the other two in decided steps.
The young woman stopped and Elizabeth calculated that she must have been only a couple years older than herself. She was smiling at them serenely and tilted her head sideways when she finally addressed her.
"You are Miss Elizabeth Bingley and Miss Margaret Fawley, am I mistaken?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Indeed you are not. But I apologise, for we do not recognise you."
"I am Mrs. Robert Pratt, but I suppose that at the occasion we met, I was far too young to be married. My maiden name is Wickham. Fanny Wickham."
Chapter 16
Only when the sentence left the lady's mouth did Elizabeth take notice of the slight hint of a Scottish accent in Mrs. Pratt's speaking. The remembrance of once playing with a child that had those same mild eyes and that guileless manner came over her along with a smile. She stepped forward graciously, throwing aside any prejudice she might have on the idea of her aunt Lydia's infamous late husband and curtsied to Mrs. Pratt pleasantly as well as did Margaret.
"Cousin Fanny! I knew you were altogether too familiar! I fancied you were living in Scotland."
Mrs. Pratt shook her head. "Oh, no. I moved to London after I was wed. My sisters are staying with my stepfather's sister."
Elizabeth nodded and looked at the two girls before her. In the back of her head, she remembered her aunt Lydia with a tiny baby in her arms and another baby boy. Apparently, the tiny baby was one of the girls standing before her.
Theresa was shorter than average, with darker and curlier hair than her elder sister. She curtsied properly and expressed her delight in meeting the cousins she had heard of so much in a low voice. Her eyes were unfamiliar, very dark, and small. Elizabeth found her polite and pleasant, but definitely shy. She stood quite hidden behind her sisters and Elizabeth soon assumed she was the youngest of the lot. Georgia, on the other hand, was very flamboyant and definitely a loud speaker. Forward, cheerful, and soon found to be very silly indeed. She had very light brown hair, bordering on golden, and wide, electric green eyes full of mischief. She was tall and lanky and awkward, and Elizabeth found it quite shocking that she was no less than a year her junior. Theresa was fifteen and she soon learned that her last name was not Wickham, but Hughes.
Hence the striking difference.
"Mother married Stepfather when I was but four. A year later, Theresa was born." Fanny explained.
Explaining was something Elizabeth and Margaret did not need. They had once overheard the tale of how their Aunt Lydia had lost her husband in the year of the birth of her third child and then a year later married her husband's superior, who moved to Scotland when he retired. That had been right before the only time they had ever met their aunt and Elizabeth distinctively remembered that Fanny and the widowed Mrs. Wickham wore mourning clothes then. With Captain Hughes she had eight more children, of which Theresa was obviously the eldest. Apparently, there were four more girls, all young, and three boys, one of which Theresa spoke constantly, who was named Arthur.
"Oh Beth, where are our manners?" Said Margaret softly. "This here is our good friend, Mr. Curwood. He is one of Uncle Darcy's nephews."
Henry bowed to the ladies politely and they all agreed that it was indeed a delight meeting him. Georgia seemed to have heard of all his relations and connections, which seemed quite shocking. As they all conversed, Elizabeth was struck by how charming her cousins could be if one quite ignored Georgia's propensity to silliness or the manner in which Theresa seemed to go on and on about something that would eventually lead up to nothing. The girls quickly dropped all formality to call each other by their Christian names and Theresa insisted on being called 'Tess', for she quite felt her actual name belonged to the grandmother she had lost as child. Elizabeth realised then her bad luck in their being away. With so many other granddaughters, she supposed her grandmother would have given up on her now.
"I suppose she would find enough entertainment." Said Georgia, after Elizabeth quite laughingly developed on her sentiments. "But is Grandmama not quite delightful?"
Elizabeth eyed Margaret before saying. "Delightful indeed..."
With a polite invitation to tea at the Pratts' house on ----- Street, Elizabeth returned to her parent's townhouse rather amazed at the day's happenings. She arrived there quite later that afternoon, at an hour she hoped would be just before tea, but perceived the distressed look on the butler's face when he opened the door for her. She eyed him quizzically, but she soon found out why it was so.
"Why, Beth! You have come in good time!"
Elizabeth grinned, remembering the conversation she had had with Henry and Margaret at the park as she perceived her grandmother poking her head out of the sitting room to see whomever it was who had arrived.
"Good afternoon, Grandmama."
"Come, come, make haste! I was just telling your mother about all these wonderful silks that have just arrived at Mrs. Bretton's shop and how well they will do for new dresses for you to wear at your cousin's wedding!"
Elizabeth nearly despaired at how once more someone (although not herself) had been right about her grandmother's course of action. She started laughing quite uncontrollably, much to her grandmother's disapproval, who said such fits were hardly becoming on a lady like her, who was soon to be the niece of an earl.
"Where did you get such notions, mama?" Asked Mrs. Bingley as she looked up from inspecting a sample of silk that Mrs. Bennet had brought with her.
"Do you think I do not know that the Matlocks and their family will be at Linton?" The woman screeched.
"Oh, Grandmama...This is nonsense." Elizabeth protested.
"I know the Fitzwilliams have a son and the Matlocks do not...So far. Now what would you think of being a Countess, Beth?"
"Mr. Fitzwilliam is just a friend I barely see."
"But you will see him there. And you must be fit to be seen and to catch him."
"Grandmama! I do not intend to catch anyone."
"Now, now..."
Elizabeth just let Mrs. Bennet talk and joined her mother at the sofa. The old woman seemed fine with that. She ranted all that was necessary and then went about what she had come there for. Mrs. Bingley did find the silks appealing and decided that her daughter was to have two new dresses, for "Caroline will probably be offering a ball and you are indeed short of gowns no matter what."
"Mama," said Elizabeth after the subject had been put to rest, "you will not believe who I saw at the park while with Meg and Henry."
"Henry!? Who wants you to be traipsing about with that boy while his brother is much more eligible..." Said Mrs. Bennet.
Elizabeth paused so her grandmother would be quite done and then proceeded. "I met with Cousin Fanny."
Both women froze in their actions, undoubtedly surprised.
"Fanny?"
"Lydia's little girl?"
"Not so little anymore." Said Elizabeth with a smile. "She now answers by the name of Mrs. Robert Pratt."
"See!? See!?" Shrieked Mrs. Bennet. "At least one of my grandchildren spare my poor nerves!"
Chapter 17
"Robert was very patient with me." Fanny said. "He had the housekeeper teach me how to be a good mistress. My mother was too busy with the little ones to give me lessons on that."
"But you are doing well indeed. Aunt Lydia must be very proud of you."
Fanny smiled. "She is. Even though Georgia has always been her favourite and she was very crushed my younger brother Rupert died."
Elizabeth smiled and patted her cousin's hand. "Well, by the time they are gone back to Scotland, do not hesitate in seeking me out."
"I will not! I would have dared to hope that I had such delightful cousins such as you and Margaret."
"You should have met Bennet, too."
Fanny's face darkened. "Oh, but I have."
"You know the Darcys?" Asked Elizabeth. Why had she never heard of that before?
"Mama, Georgia, and I spent a few days in Pemberley two years ago. Stepfather was in London, in business, and so was Mr. Darcy. Mama wanted to see Aunt Lizzy, so she took us to Pemberley. We spent two weeks there."
"Two weeks? How come Bennet never told me that?"
"I saw Bennet only once. He was away with the Curwoods. Only Aunt Lizzy and her eldest were there."
Elizabeth made a face. "Cousin William, you mean."
Fanny looked at her curiously. "How well do you get along with Cousin William?"
"Not very well. He is seven years my senior, so we barely meet. I always spend part of summer at Pemberley and that is the most time I ever get to spend in his company. Since he is always otherwise engaged, I never spend time with him."
"Oh, then you barely know him."
"Yes. It is most remarkable, is it not? His brother has always been one of my dearest friends, yet he never got close to me. He was always patronising regarding me when we were children."
"Patronising?"
"Towards my manners! He found the fact that I played with his brother instead of engaging in other proper activities very out of character and disagreeable."
Fanny smirked. "William! With morals!"
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows when Fanny referred to their cousin by his Christian name. "Why do you seem shocked?"
"Our cousin, my dear, is nothing but a seducer. I wonder at the Darcys not being able to curb the manners he obviously acquired at Cambridge. His acquaintances were definitely poor in character, otherwise I should find it impossible that a young man of his breeding could behave so."
"Cousin William? A seducer?" The idea seemed somewhat shocking to Elizabeth. William had always behaved the epitome of the gentleman. Their family always marked him for the impeccable one while Bennet was the ruthless younger son.
"He obviously behaves like a saint around the family to cover for his disagreeable habits. Beth, dearest, by the time mother, Georgia, and I visited Pemberley, William was in his second year at Cambridge. I was your age then, but I was already engaged to Robert. You see, I met my husband in Edinburgh when I was seventeen."
"What happened?"
"Well, William was very charming, kind, attentive, thoughtful. He took me on tours of the estate, showed me the grounds, took me in long walks through the gardens...
"He knew I was engaged and yet one day, he tried to kiss me while we were in the gardens. I told him that I was already engaged to be married, but he insisted on it. I cannot deny that I was very much besotted by him - pretty much in the edge of falling in love - anyone in their right senses knows that William is a very handsome young man. I thought he wanted me to marry him, so on the third day after the incident, I wrote a letter to Robert, asking him to release me of our engagement, for I was in love with another man."
"Go on..." Elizabeth urged at Fanny's pause.
"I did not send it, however. I wanted William's guarantee that he would marry me if I was willing to do so. So one day I presented him with a hypothetical situation in which I would have been free. You know what he said, Beth?"
Elizabeth mutely shook her head.
"He told me that he would settle me in London as his mistress after he was married to a woman of his status."
One does not need to say that Elizabeth was shocked. As much as she disliked her cousin, she was not able to believe him capable of such heartless atrocities. It was outrageous that he dared to treat a relation of his in this manner. He was indeed an insufferable, heartless, insensitive rake. He did not deserve the parents, the brother, and the relations he had! She felt at first that she should relate it all to her parents, but then decided against it. Creating a scandal like that would end up ruining her name as well and disgracing the entire family.
The only person she related her conversation with Fanny to was Margaret, who had already left for Cornwall the week before. And the letter she received as an answer would not do to ease her rage.
'I find it shocking as well as you do and you are right about our not knowing Cousin William well. However, I must make it a point that we do not know Fanny enough as well, to give her tale any credit. I know you are taken with her and that I was not there to hear it out of her own mouth, but do be careful in what you believe, Beth.'
However skeptical Margaret sounded about the veracity of the story, Elizabeth was already spending plenty of time with Fanny in between preparations to leave to Linton Park. Regarding that, Elizabeth had only one thing in her mind and that was to confront Bennet about their leaving Netherfield at last and put an end to the nonsense ensued there. If there were doubts about his regard for Margaret or lack thereof, Elizabeth felt they should be all eliminated. She fully intended to sit Bennet down and talk to him about Margaret with direct words and no mumbling. It would not do to simply go around the subject without being blunt at all.
This comforted her more than ever and made her look forward to having to endure two weeks with the Filmonts. When she had not been in dress-fittings, she delighted in the company of Mrs. Pratt and her younger sisters and her parents were too absorbed in their journey to mind it at all.
So the only problem, however, was how she was going to face William and keep her mouth under control about her recent knowledge.
Chapter 18
"Bessie, dearest! How delightful to have you with us at last!"
Miss Louisa Filmont was the first thing Elizabeth saw as she stepped down from the carriage that took the Bingleys to Sussex. The lady was smiling at her from under the parasol that matched her bright yellow dress with her shrewd blue eyes barely acknowledging her face, since they were engaged in finding fault with her travelling clothes. Elizabeth had to supress a chuckle at Louisa's toilette herself. Her cousin's corset appeared to be so tight, she seemed to be squeezed out from it. Gathering her own full skirts in her hand, she could not help but smile to dissimulate her mirth, and laughed joyously as Louisa planted kisses on her cheeks, in a display bound to raise Elizabeth's eyebrows. She looked at her mother warily and Mrs. Bingley pursed her lips in apprehension. With dancing eyes, Elizabeth mutely questioned her mother's trust in her as Louisa turned to greet her "dearest Aunt Jane". Mr. Bingley was too busy developing on his enthusiasm regarding being in his brother-in-law's fine estate to notice his wife and daughter's exchange, albeit he instantly turned to take charge of the unloading of their luggage.
"Charles!" A nasal voice exclaimed comandingly. "Let my housekeeper take care of this!"
Lady Caroline Filmont, who seemed as fond of a tight corset as her daughter, walked elegantly towards the newly arrived family. Elizabeth instantly noticed something was different about her aunt. The woman's neckline was shockingly low and she acted like a peacock displaying its feathers. It did not help that the ornaments in Lady Caroline's hat looked like they came from fifty different kinds of birds. She treated Elizabeth more affably than normal and did not make one crude remark about her travelling clothes. Mrs. Bingley was treated like a sister, Mr. Bingley received the loving attention a brother deserved, and she put her most efficient servants at their service. Most puzzling indeed.
Turning to greet those who had left the house to greet them, Elizabeth saw no signs of Mrs. Darcy. She frowned, but her mother spoke for her.
"Fiztwilliam! Do not tell me Lizzy has not come!"
Mr. Darcy shook his head. "If you were not on your way, I would have informed you and Charles before, Jane. Lydia's daughter Georgia wrote us, claiming that they were headed for Scotland and asking her to accompany them. Lydia fell ill -"
"Dear God!" Mrs. Bingley exclaimed and turned to her husband, whose ear her been perked upon hearing it whilst he spoke with another relation. "Oh, Charles! Poor Lydia!"
"But fortunately everything is all right and she should recover. Lizzy has already written me." Darcy said with a reassuring smile.
"I am glad. Why did she not write to me as well? I would have gone, too." Asked Mrs. Bingley. "And why ever did they not inform Beth of it. She has been in the girls' company more than I can imagine."
"Mama," said Elizabeth, "I have not spoken or written to Fanny in a week. We were far too busy preparing to come here."
Mr. Darcy smiled at his niece in the way of a greeting. "Apparently, Lizzy was the only one Lydia wrote to. But, please, Jane, Lizzy told me to assure you that everything is going to be well and it is nothing to despair about."
Mrs. Bingley nodded, still rather disturbed. Suddenly, she turned to her brother once again. "Is Lizzy all alone there?"
"No, Bennet is with her."
This bit of news was hardly something for Elizabeth to absorb. She felt the possibility of having Bennet galloping away to Cornwall in Margaret's pursuit crumble by itself. How long would it have to be before she could see them both happy? How was she to be sure of Bennet's love for her friend? She was morosely staring at the stone floor when she heard laughter ensuing from the group. She raised her eyes and saw that her uncle was glaring at someone who was apparently standing behind her.
"Oh, Darcy is pining away for his lady, all right! Come now, man, this will be just like Easter at Rosings with Lady Catherine. Kent was not Sussex, but pluck a few feathers from a rooster, stick them in a London hat, change a few letters in a name, and you would have a very similar hostess. "
Elizabeth could not help but laugh out loud or at least let out a few noises that indicated she found the comment hilarious. Mrs. Bingley gasped, Mr. Bingley concealed a smile with a hand, and Mr. Darcy glared again at the mysterious speaker. Elizabeth turned to eye the gentleman with her eyes brimming with mirthful tears and was welcomed with a conspirational grin on a face that must have been agreeable indeed in its past. The broad shoulders and the stature did not deny the thought that his son resembled him.
"How come you married the woman and Bingley had the daughter, Darce?"
"It is called kin, Fitzwilliam." Said Mr. Bingley.
The infamous General Fitzwilliam bowed at her charmingly. "When I last saw you, you were a mere little thing! I would make a remark at the wonders of Hertfordshire air and how it extends down for generations, but that would make my cousin ridiculously angry."
Elizabeth found herself laughing delightedly. "Well, you certainly are Mr. Fitzwilliam's father."
The General eyed her suspiciously. "Is that what that rascal has been doing in London?"
"Your son could barely be called a rascal, sir."
"I am glad that at least someone defends me." Said the subject of their conversation when he joined the group.
"Mr. Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth curtsied and at his smile was instantly reminded of her grandmother's speech about her being a Countess one day. She instantly dismissed the thought, however.
"Miss Bingley, stunning as always. Lavender suits you remarkably well, would you not say so, Will?"
At this Elizabeth promptly felt her pulse quicken, which she considered remarkably foolish, given her knowledge of his probably being there. She instantly felt the presence behind her just as she did at Netherfield - like a threat. So he was there and she had to face him. How does one keep control in a situation like this? She thought.
You had better keep your mouth shut, otherwise it will get you into trouble. Your parents are here, as well as his father and from the looks of it, I would gather Uncle Darcy does not know a thing about the incident with Fanny. I doubt he would tell his parents that.
"It seems as though you have gone astray regarding greeting relations this time, Cousin Elizabeth." She heard him say behind her.
She turned around. "It is not as if you were very communicative, Cousin Darcy. I apologise."
I cannot do it, can I? I simply cannot go without needling him. Oh, what is wrong with you, Elizabeth Bingley?
He mutely stared at her and she glared back at him, nose inches from the buttons of his coat. Aware that they were in the presence of their seniors, she stepped back a bit and curtsied, a smile plastered on her face. He bowed back without saying a thing. She did not open her mouth to speak, as she expected to him to be polite and enquire after her health. But he did not. Instead, he only watched her in the most disconcerting manner and she, unnerved by his attitude, found distraction for her eyes in the rest of the crowded guests, who seemed to be comfortable standing outside the manor for some reason. She frowned and then spotted someone to save her day.
Mumbling a quick excuse, she energetically walked over to the sand-haired gentleman who stood aside in the crowd, looking distractedly at the surrounding grounds.
"Harry! Thank God!"
"Ah! Beth! Or should I say," and at this, he bowed, "Miss Bingley."
She laughed mildly as she curtsied before huffing and making a face. "I would not want my dearest cousin disappointed in my behaviour, either. Did you see how shocking a display my aunt is making of herself?"
Henry laughed, but seemed not in the mood to talk about Lady Caroline's feathers. "You meant Will... You two seemed quite civil back there, giving your past - how should I put it? Bickering... I was going to say that you took longer than usual to find me because you were otherwise agreeably engaged."
"Argh! Are you to infuriate me through these two weeks as much as the Darcys have been doing?"
"Well, we are related." He patted her arm. "He looks at you a great deal, you know."
"Who?"
Henry shook his head disapprovingly and muttered something about her not being help at all. "William, of course."
"By all means! He is always analysing, criticising, and scrutinising ever step I take. I dare say he excruciates himself just to find fault with me. I must go. They are probably showing us to our rooms."
Henry just laughed as he followed his friend. "Excruciates himself...Yes, indeed!"
Chapter 19
Why did she have to wear lavender? Why does she have to be here at all?
William suppressed his own pitiful laugh when the question darted across his mind.
She has much more right to be here than you do, you idiot. She is actually related to the bride-to-be if your deficient mental capacities were too slow to gather.
He watched her silently as she walked over to Henry in a manner altogether too cheerful and he momentarily hated her for it. She laughed, teased, and demonstrated her affection for his cousin more than he could take at once. Smile and eyes both bright with merriment, she stood there just like she did at Netherfield a little more than a month before. He hated Henry then, for being able to be closer to his own cousin than he was. Henry, too, was laughing and teasing; and consumed by jealousy, William Darcy watched them from under the brim of his top hat, trying not to make everyone else in their family notice that he was in turmoil.
The past weeks in London had been somewhat frustrating for him. Bennet claimed illness and went to Pemberley after the first two days there, leaving their parents much more concerned than they were before. They had even questioned him if his brother's ailment was indeed not one of the heart and William gathered that his parents realised how alluring Elizabeth Bingley could be. For Bennet's sake and fearing that his likeness to his father might give him away, he contrived a lively disposition, waved his hand, and told them that Bennet was acting like a pansy over some chill he had caught in Hertfordshire. His father had laughed, but his mother still looked suspicious. And she had taken Bennet to Scotland with her, probably guessing correctly that her youngest was the owner of a broken heart.
Nonetheless, there was the engagement with the Filmonts. William had been sick of "Beth this and Beth that" and realising that he was fed up with the mention of his cousin not because his parents mentioned her too much (for they actually didn't), but from the fact that her name reverberated constantly through his mind just about enough, made him mortified. By the time he and his father were making arrangements to go to Sussex, he had already cast any occasional dream or thought of her aside, telling himself that he would do what it took to stop thinking about the woman his brother loved. But then he saw her talking to his father, nodding, looking concerned, and then laughing at the General's charming nonsense, and instantly forgot all of his resolves.
Elizabeth Bingley looked as lovely as always and when the time came, he greeted her from a distance that was like sweet torture. Standing inches away from her, he was able to smell that mixture of carriage confinement and some herbal mixture, which attached itself to his nostrils. It intoxicated him to look over her hat and to see how the colour of her dress turned her white skin into the complexion of a china doll and then when she turned to face him, he just relented and lost himself into the orbs glaring back at him. The dress's tones acted up again and made blue and gray wisps mix together in that peculiar violet colour he so dreaded looking at.
When William dissected the feelings that boiled inside of him, he realised that he had never stopped loving her for one second in those weeks and there was nothing he could do about it.
Unnerving. That was the precise word Elizabeth thought of when she sat down to dinner that evening. In a long table, the occupants of Linton Park made it all seem like a family gathering and Elizabeth had always delighted in those, but the fact that William Darcy was seated next to her made it too awful. Where was Lady Caroline's thoughtfulness when she needed it? Sure Louisa was sitting across from the gentleman, but she assumed her aunt out of her wits when the lady simply appointed her to seat. Sure Lady Filmont would not let competition within her daughter's range.
Somehow it was all very strange. When the first course came and they all settled to eat, she heard shrieking laughter coming from the end of the table nearest to her. Her aunt was at the head of it, laughing in the most exaggerated manner and bending her once again flattering neckline into the plate. It quite shocked her. Especially when she saw who was sitting at her aunt's right.
"Mr. Darcy! You tease me!"
Elizabeth's eyes flew to her uncle's face and saw that he was quite disconcerted by her display. General Fitzwilliam was chuckling with his mouth full, his eyes brimming with water as well and apparently, it was not for the same reason as Lady Caroline's. She narrowed her eyes and watched as her aunt wiped her mouth elegantly with her napkin and giggled some more, placing her hand on Mr. Darcy's shoulder in the most atrociously flirting manner. Turning her head to the other end of the table, Elizabeth realised that Lady Caroline had put everyone who inconvenienced her at the other end of the table, separated from them by a huge line of chattering guests. And Sir Timothy seemed too engaged in conversing with Mr. Bingley to notice anything.
She must have ordered to have all of her gowns cut lower ever since she heard Aunt Lizzy was not to be here. This is disgusting!
Elizabeth resumed eating, telling herself that her uncle was too honourable to dare take up Lady Caroline in any suggestion of hers. At her elbow, she felt William stiffen in his chair with every movement she made.
Do not worry. I shall not make any remark, which will incriminate your father. He is very different from you!
She thought of actually telling that to his face, but then decided against it. Ever since they had started being thrown into each other's company with more frequency, she had managed not to make a scene. It would be a waste of time to make one at this point.
However, it seemed that she would not be left without the need of making conversation.
"Oh, Bessie! Tell us of the time Bennet taught you how to ride astride instead of side-saddling!" Came her aunt's voice from the end of the table. "That boy is so adorable, Mr. Darcy!"
Oh, please...
"I am afraid you already told the tale by simply asking, Aunt Filmont." Replied Elizabeth good-naturedly.
Lady Caroline smiled quite ungraciously and then turned to General Fitzwilliam. "Bessie was always quite the tomboy, General. When she was a little girl she could always be seen traipsing around the country-side with the boys."
Louisa shrewdly smiled as well. "Bessie has a reputation for not being able to stay out of mudholes."
Elizabeth was going to open her mouth when she heard the General laugh. "Why, she sounds like my own little Georgiana! I dare say Clarissa and I cannot keep that little girl from getting her dresses and shoes ruined any day!"
Elizabeth just watched her aunt's discontented face when the words left the General's mouth. The older gentleman did not seem done, however.
"I dare say that kind of activity rather improves the character of young ladies."
Elizabeth smiled sweetly at the General. She was quite warming up to him by now.
"Oh, sir. I would not say that within these walls just now." She cocked her eyebrows in William's general direction. "I am afraid that my manners have more than once been pronounced to be somewhat lacking."
The General raised his eyebrows and grinned sardonically at his cousin's son. "Really? I am quite amazed. William praises you a great deal. "
Elizabeth was, needless to say, very surprised to hear that. "Indeed! Then I must have progressed somewhat...You see, sir, Cousin Darcy is my severest critic."
She heard the gentleman in question clear his throat softly as if to make his presence known and turned to look at him, so missing the rather surprised expression on the face of the aforementioned gentleman's father.
"I did not know I had the ability to make you progress whatsoever."
"You mean that you that you did not believe me capable of becoming what I have become at all. You thought me indeed hopeless - not in then jestful manner my friends say I am, but basically because you are incapable of jesting at all."
"No," he grinned insolently, "I meant then that I did not know I had that kind of effect on you."
She resumed eating and only turned her face slightly in his direction, so that he could hear what she yet had to say to him.
"You do not."
"Do not what?" He asked.
"Have any effect on me."
"I am heartbroken."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. I would have put it in the newspaper as an achievement bound to be glorified for...Mr.
William Darcy Has Tamed the Beast: Bingley Heiress Saved From Social Disgrace."
"You would have been applauded for it."
"I would."
"Would. That is precisely the right word."
To that there was no answer and Elizabeth presumed she had won this time.
After the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Lady Caroline had made it a point to have her two eldest daughters display their talents on the pianoforte. Always as if on display, Marianne and Louisa had both obliged their mother, with the latter playing one song more than the former, because she had ampler needs for showing off. Not only she sang only romantic airs, she also made William sit by her and turn her pages, which greatly amused Elizabeth. She felt almost sorry for the gentleman. Almost.
However, it was soon clear to the rest of the party that Louisa's voice was indeed too disagreeable.
"We must have Miss Bingley - or as she begged me to call her - Beth," said General Fitzwilliam, "display her talents as well!"
Elizabeth looked quite at loss. She did not feel inclined to have to play in front of the Filmont ladies, much less in front of William. It would be too much scrutinising for one's own peace, she thought with a sad smile.
"Come, Beth!" Said Henry, an incorrigible smile plastered on his face.
She looked sideways at her mother, who smiled at her as well. "You know I always enjoy hearing you play, dearest."
"Oh, do so by all means." Said her Uncle Darcy, who then turned to his own sister and audibly mouthed to her. "She reminds me awfully of you when she plays."
Torn by having to oblige the General, succumb under Henry's obvious schemes, and proclaim her flatter to her uncle, she silently took over the instrument, watching relieved as William quit it as well. Louisa shot her an ignoble defying look while Marianne snorted.
Oh, they are so full of themselves.
She went through the selection of music sheets her aunt had and chose a Beethoven sonata she favoured. While engaged so, she did not see that Richard Curwood took a seat next to her. She was rather surprised when the gentleman gently took the sheets from her hands and arranged them himself in front of her. She smiled at him and then began to play in the light manner she always did.
"Why, Bessie! Next time play something you can sing to, dearest." Said Lady Caroline.
Elizabeth cringed at that. She hated singing with a passion. But she was not disturbed from her playing until William suddenly bolted from the sofa he was occupying next to Louisa and approached both of them. Elizabeth finished playing and looked up at him, laughing.
"Do you mean to frighten me, Cousin Darcy, by coming all the way here in this state to hear me? You do know that my courage rises when one seeks to intimidate me. Or maybe you are here to check whether or not I get my fingering right."
"No," he replied calmly, "your fingering has always been the best, but then I also know that you say things you do not always mean."
Elizabeth laughed at this and then turned to Richard. "Our cousin will give you a pretty notion of me and teach you not to believe I word I say, Mr. Curwood. Now, now, 'Will', you do not want me telling things to the other side of your family so I can retaliate."
William shot her the hint of a smile. "I am not afraid of you, 'Beth'."
She ignored the shudder his calling her by her nickname ignited through her spine. You should be afraid of me, cousin.
"Pray, Beth!" Cried Richard. "What is it that you can accuse him of?"
You wish me to begin, dear Richard? I am afraid we would grow quite tired. Me of talking, and you of listening.
"Cousin Darcy does not dance at all, for instance." She said lightly.
"I do not dance, unless it is with a lady I am well acquainted with."
Elizabeth almost snorted. "Such as the daughters of your mother's own sisters." And when I say that I do not mean mere dancing, sir!
William seemed riled up by that. "I have danced with you before."
"You mean the time you made me almost faint from exertion?...And I did not mean myself only."
"You made yourself light-headed!"
"You spinned me around the ballroom as if you reckoned me senseless! And I was not discussing dancing skills!"
"You were the one who brought it up!" He cried exasperatedly.
"Oh, you are childish indeed!"
"I thought 'insufferable' was your favourite word."
"Argh!"
"That one, too..." Sighing, William suddenly sobered up. "What I meant to say before was that I do not have the skills to recommend myself to strangers, no matter if they are related to me or not. What counts in those hours is not blood, but..."
"Friendliness? A fair less amount of pride? Tact?"
He ignored her. "The ability to catch one's tone or to seem interested in other's concerns. I am afraid I lack those."
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side as she eyed him. "My voice does not sound as well as I would wish too. It is not pure, or crystalline, or potent as I have seen heard other women's to be and yet I always thought that my fault because I have not taken the time to practise."
William seemed content with that. "You see, cousin? We neither perform for strangers."
And then Lady Caroline demanded they partake on whatever they were so enthusiastically discussing.
Chapter 20
"You know," the voice frightened her and she dropped the cue stick on the floor as she turned around and found her father smiling at her, "when you were born I told your uncle that you would be the most beautiful young lady in Yorkshire and Derbyshire put together..."
Elizabeth smiled and twirled. Her gown was made of ice coloured muslin, with embroidered details and full skirts that rounded her like a cloud. The bodice was tight, with a sound neckline edged in lace, and her hair was adorned with the whitest lilies and ribbons, twisted in braids. A pair of expensive earrings adorned her ears and she was wearing a necklace that had been her Bingley grandmother's. Mr. Bingley was somewhat sorry he had let his mother-in-law take over the making of his daughter's new gowns: He was pretty sure his Elizabeth would quite outshine the bride-to-be and her sister, not to mention every other lady in the room.
"I did not know how right I was." He muttered, frazzled by the reality of his little girl having grown up.
"Thank you, papa."
"Your uncle would be the first to agree with me." He said lightly, recovering somewhat.
"Indeed he would!" Said the mentioned gentleman. Mr. Darcy stopped in the threshold, his eyes like saucers. "Beth! By god!"
Elizabeth laughed and found herself blushing deeply while she curtsied. "Uncle Darcy!"
"Were you playing pool, Elizabeth Jane?" Her uncle asked, narrowing his eyes at her while using the name he referred to her when he wanted to call her by the whole of it. He always claimed it saved him from confusing the rest of the family.
Mr. Bingley chuckled. "I taught her when she was small."
"Riding, shooting, fencing, billiards...What else?"
"Netting purses, French, German, and reading!" She cried.
"I doubt your father taught you to net purses."
Elizabeth glimpsed at her father lovingly from the corner of her eye. "Aye, sir. He did. Mama was ill once and he had to do it."
Mr. Darcy was too busy laughing to reply to that.
"Is the ball begun?" She enquired.
"Quite so, dear. Your mother sent me here to get you." Replied Mr. Bingley, quite riled up by his brother-in-law's excessive laughter at his expense.
"I will be down shortly. I have to put these things away."
"There are servants for that, Beth."
"Nonsense."
She shooed both older men out of the gameroom and then looked at the table again. Then she picked up the cuestick she had dropped on the floor and studied the balls carefully while leaning on the table and aligning the stick with her eyes narrowed. Before she could hit the white ball in motion, though, she perceived movement at the door again. Raising her head, she saw William staring at her. Instead of speaking, she defied him with a look. He did not say a word either. As though disturbed by something, he just turned around and left.
Quite puzzled, Elizabeth shrugged and then sank the red ball.
"You and Ben are cut out of the same mould, Harry. I would not be surprised for an instant." Said Elizabeth as she eyed Louisa Filmont dancing with William, whirling around full skirts made of orange, pink, and purple muslin.
Henry Curwood smiled at her and he swiftly forked the stray olive in the tray being held out by the servant. He had dared Elizabeth to throw a cherry at Louisa, but she had refused to do so. Bennet had once done something similar when he was much younger and was given a public scolding harsh enough to embarrass him. As this was something difficult to achieve when it concerned the younger Darcy's mischief, it need not be said that this had left quite an impression on the girl. But she flat out dared Henry back and the gentleman (if one could be referred as such in situation like that) seemed up to the challenge.
"I cannot believe this..." She said to herself as Henry pathetically balanced the olive on the curve of his fork and arched it backwards.
"Just watch." He said.
The olive was sent flying across the room, missed being stopped by Mr. Bingley's head, and hit Louisa right on the ear as she danced with William. Elizabeth choked on laughter and Henry looked quite triumphant. The entire room paused as Louisa screamed in horror and Lady Caroline became hysteric. Quite unable to stop herself, Elizabeth clamped a hand over her own mouth and walked away from where they were standing, while Henry frowned in fake apprehension. She lost it and guffawed for over a minute on a chair, quite lost to everyone, as they were concerned about the reason of Miss Filmont's distress.
William Darcy had stopped dancing when the olive had hit its target. It had bounced off the lady's ear and skid to the floor, where it rolled next to his boot. While he concentrated on ignoring Louisa's nasal wails (which quite reminded him of some aspect of his childhood), he bent down to pick up the wretched object. Looking up, the first sight he beheld was Elizabeth Bingley sunk in an armchair, laughing delightedly as her giggles contrasted with the coolness of her gown.
He could not help the grin that then broke on his face while he doubted she had been the one responsible for such mischief. Otherwise, he thought, she would not be laughing as openly as she was doing. He savoured in being able to observe her as she grew quite flushed with each giggle and how bright her eyes glinted as they watered with merry tears. Her chest was heaving with her gasped breathing and her arms were prettily slung over the armrests in a surrendered way. William felt pathetically entranced.
"Will!"
He looked up, blushing like a girl, and saw the General looking at him with his eyes narrowed. Something came over him and he remembered Miss Filmont and the reason why Elizabeth had been laughing in the first place. Quite stricken, he looked around himself and saw that he had been standing alone among the dancers for quite some time, while Louisa was tended by a servant at the end of the room. Lady Caroline had gone rapant and was explaining to everyone why her daughter had suddenly entered such a state, something that had Elizabeth laughing harder still.
"You know...It is common knowledge that when a gentleman finds himself charmed by a lady, he must do something to gain her attentions."
William numbly nodded, quite aware that his heart was beating a hole through his chest.
The General will tell my father and Father will tell Mother. Somehow Bennet will get to hear it and then all will be pitying me.
However, he decided he needed to be near her. Talking to her made him a world of good, even if it left him aching for something he knew he could not have. Quite swiftly, he made his way to her armchair.
"William!" Called out yet another voice.
Oh, no...
"Is this not a capital way to spend an evening? Apart from the little episode with Louisa, of course..."
"Yes, Sir Timothy, I quite agree. I hope your daughter is feeling better, sir? I did not find it appropriate for me to assist in such a delicate situation."
The older man waved his hand dismissively at William's poorly given excuse.
"Yes, yes, we quite understand, Caroline and I. We are grateful for your concern, dear boy. Louisa will be, especially. She is very fond of you."
You do not need to remind me of that.
"Thank you, sir."
For that William was expertly slapped on his shoulder.
Suddenly, Sir Timothy's attention was engaged elsewhere and William would have been relieved, were the man not pulling her by the arm.
"Why, Bethy! Why are you not dancing?" Elizabeth did not have the time to reply. "Come now, your cousin will oblige you, I am sure."
Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "Cousin Charles is engaged at the moment, Uncle Filmont."
"Bah! I did not mean Charles! William here will dance with you."
She looked quite vexed for a moment and then looked up at him, her mouth open to say something he foresaw as denial.
Oh, no, Elizabeth. You shall not.
Before the words could get out of her mouth, he quickly smiled, eyes flashing at her as much as hers were flashing at him.
"Indeed I will!" He said and bowed. "Would you do me the honour, Cousin Elizabeth?"
"I..." She looked sideways and saw that her father had approached them and was watching him with his eyebrows raised. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
Triumphantly, he turned sideways and saw the General speaking with the musicians while surreptitiously glancing at them.
His hand was scalding hot as it caught hers. Even if hers was gloved, she felt the heat emanate from his palm into hers in the most disconcerting way. The grip was tight, but not aggressively so. It was the kind of hold one was assured by that he or she was never to be let go. Making a face, Elizabeth wondered at how much thought she was depositing on this after all.
He led her to the floor not three minutes after she was coerced into accepting him. She felt his eyes on her as the musicians began to play and she recognised a waltz. Elizabeth felt like whining, if not emanating some sort of sound similar to this. Why did the wretched musicians have to play a waltz? She reprimanded herself for thinking in such a low tone and then for feeling a bolt run through her body as his hand rested at the small of her back.
They started moving to the music at the same time as the other couples. Elizabeth had to admit he was a good dancer. He led her in a way that did not appear that he was actually leading her. She responded to his movements automatically and instinctively, silently asking him not to speak because she would not be responsible for what came out of her mouth.
I must restrain myself...I must restrain myself...I must restrain myself...
"Just so you know, it was your cousin who threw the olive at Louisa."
Argh! I'm a hopeless case!
"I know."
The eyebrows arched. "You know?"
"Yes. You were laughing too openly and too shamelessly for it to have been you."
"I take it you were surprised that it was not me."
"I was."
Oh, the petulance! "Of course you were. After all, am I not always responsible for such childish, shameful acts?"
"I never claimed you were childish."
She just snorted.
"Do you enjoy playing pool?"
She tossed her head back defiantly as they rounded another couple. "Yes, I do."
"I never did get around to the idea that it was part of a ladies' education."
"You mother knows how to play pool."
"That was my father's doing."
"So it was with me."
Silence.
"My father never taught you to play pool."
"No indeed. It was my own who did."
"Interesting."
More silence.
"You were jealous."
"What!?"
"Jealous. You were jealous that your father would have taught me to play pool had he wanted to or been given the opportunity."
"You have never been more wrong in your life."
She glowered at him.
"I met an old friend of yours these days. In fact, she is family to both of us. A Mrs. Robert Pratt."
No answer.
"Mrs. Fanny Pratt, née Wickham..."
"I know Mrs. Pratt."
"I know you do."
"Oh."
" 'Oh' as in 'I regret the way I treated her' or as in 'I do not care what has become of her after all these years.'?"
"The second option would be the right one."
"Oh, right. I do recall you once saying when we were children that your opinion once lost was lost forever."
"We were hardly children when I said that. I was seventeen."
"Of course." She said sarcastically. "You were in your cad years."
William frowned, whirled her faster, and led her to the other end of the dance floor.
"You hardly changed over the years." She said pensively. Oh will I never quit!?
"I might as well say the same about you, madam."
"And then you say you never claim me childish...sir."
There was no more dialogue after that.
Chapter 21
So she was widely smiling in relief as she stood outside Linton chapel, waving the Ashtons off with her handkerchief.
"You seem awfully happy for your cousin, Miss Bingley."
She turned sideways and saw James Fitzwilliam throwing the rice that was left in his hands at the departing chaise.
"I am." She said. "But I am rather relieved that it is all finally over. You were not sitting where I was."
He laughed. "Indeed I was not. I could hear Lady Caroline's crying all the way from the other side of the chapel."
"I wonder at mothers who seem intent on having their daughters married and then cry at the ceremony."
"They cry in happiness, Miss Bingley, not in grief."
"Aye, but my aunt sounded so miserable." She sighed. "Oh, well..."
When the guests began to walk away from the church towards the estate for the luncheon, Elizabeth and James both walked on together.
"You do not seem so eager to be married." Stated James after some minutes of companionable silence.
"I must confess that I am not. I have more than once told Meg that only the deepest of love will induce me into matrimony...You should think me a terrible romantic."
James laughed. "Indeed I do not. I share the same view as well. But it is indeed difficult to find sensible women among our circles in society...I wonder how you manage among them."
Elizabeth blushed at the compliment. "I have Meg, who is far more sensible than I am; Ben, who exceeds my lacking in such aspect; and Henry, whose display you saw last night. Not to forgert our mothers and my aunts... But our set all make fun of the rest and have a jolly time even at the most fastidious of occasions."
"You forget Bennet and Henry are both my cousins as well and that I have witnessed their antics more than enough."
"And I suppose you are not the author of such as well?."
James laughed. "You caught me there. Curwood, Darcy, and myself have more than once been caught red-handed or even not caught at all."
Elizabeth frowned. "I find it difficult imagining Cousin Darcy playing tricks and misbehaving."
"I know how Will can be patronising at times. He is particularly so when it regards Bennet...That lad can be a handful at times. William is always watching out for him."
Elizabeth's laughter was bitter. "Oh, yes...William seems to take prodigious care of his brother."
"Yes! Will has actually been congratulating himself from getting Bennet out of a recent mess."
Elizabeth felt her breath catch in alarm. "A mess?" She croaked out and then recovered. "Bennet has been very quiet lately and has not talked to me much of serious matters."
"Yes." Said James pensively. "Quite a mess. Apparently Bennet fell for some girl who was not convenient for him to marry. You know how Bennet is and well, he certainly cannot very well marry wherever he pleases...He's got social duties and all that."
Elizabeth fumed. Sure the Fawleys were not rich like the Darcys, but they moved practically in the same circles as they did even if their precedence was not as flattering as theirs. The Bingleys himself proceeded from tradespeople and what about the Bennets' own situation? The hypocrisy of it all had Elizabeth quite livid. It seemed her cousin did not refrain from showing his abominable and meaningless attitude. Not only had he hurt her enough with his attitude when they were children (and even now), but now he was hurting the people she cared the most about. She felt her tears rising before she could even control them, but she took a deep breath, which came out in a very shaky sigh.
"Miss Bingley, are you unwell?"
"I am quite fine. It is just a sudden headache."
"Do you want me to escort you back to the house?"
Elizabeth looked sideways at James's concerned countenance and wondered how such a good family as her uncle's could breed a person like William.
"Yes, please."
They walked the rest of the path in silence and quite oblivious to the beginnings of the festivities.
"Elizabeth, are you sure you do not want to come down?"
Mrs. Bingley was eyeing her daughter worriedly as she sat on the velvet armchair, pale and distraught. Elizabeth vehemently nodded.
"Yes. I am not well, mama, but I shall be better if left to myself."
"Should we send for the doctor, Jane?" Asked Mr. Bingley in a low whisper his daughter was able to overhear.
"Papa, there is no need for such. I am fine. I just need some rest."
Mr. and Mrs. Bingley exchanged yet another worried glance when their only daughter exhaled a sigh and looked out of the window. A flicker of pain crossed her face and she winced.
"All right then, dearest. We shall leave you to yourself. But if you feel any better, be sure to come down."
Elizabeth nodded once more. "Make my apologies to Lady Caroline and Sir Timothy, mama."
"I will, dearest."
The door shut tightly with a thud and Elizabeth momentarily closed her eyes. Oh, the rage...
William was alarmed when he perceived that James and Elizabeth were not making their way to the piece of lawn the luncheon would take place. They were walking so fast that Elizabeth's countenance was a blur and then James left her at the door of Linton manor. He conferred with a bewildered Mrs. Bingley and the lady proceeded to drag her husband into the house, obviously after her daughter.
When the couple came out, they were alone and talking in low tones, both very disturbed. William did not notice when the subject of his thought's former companion suddenly appeared by his side.
"What are you doing standing here like this?" He said humourously. "What happened to Miss Filmont?"
William just glared at his second cousin.
"Oh! You are hiding from her!"
That received another glare.
"It seemed your cousin Miss Bingley is unwell after all. I was escorting her here when she said she had a headache. Such pity. We will have to make Miss Filmont and her chirping friends do for the afternoon."
That first bit of information had quipped William's attention, but he did not say a thing.
"Let us go enjoy the party, shall we?" Asked James cheerfully.
"You go ahead. I will join you later."
And before James could say a thing, William was marching his way to Linton manor.
There was a light knock on the door and Elizabeth looked up from her book, smiling ruefully. Leave it to her mother to come back after only fifteen minutes to check on her or reproach her for being missing a marvellous party.
"Mama, I told you-"
She stopped herself as soon as she perceived that the head stuck from behind the half-opened door was not her mother's but William Darcy's.
"Excuse me. I did not mean to disturb you, but to ask you about your health."
You are already disturbing me and as for my health, with you in here, it is hardly improving.
He came in. Fully. And sat on an armchair before her, looking at her in concern.
"A servant had me drink some tea and I am better. Thank you." She said curtly.
Would you leave now?
"You are not in need of anything else?"
Only that you are removed from my presence this very instant..
"No, sir. I thank you."
He got up and began to pace. Elizabeth glared at him as he crossed the room once and then twice, and then ran his hands through his curly hair before stopping in front of her and looking at her with an intensity she could hardly begin to return.
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
© 2000, 2001 Copyright held by the author.