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Chapter 39
It was not until much later in her life that Elizabeth was able to look back at that eventful evening and realise that its occurrences were actually no one's fault. That they had been naïve in their own time and fallen into such machinations without proper thinking, without being aware that sometimes the word "family" did not quite mean that people were far from doing serious harm to each other.
They were sitting down for dinner when they realised that Henry had not returned from Meryton. It was when everyone's eyes turned to that empty plate at the long dining table that they all realised that the Curwoods' younger son of a mere one-and-twenty had disappeared. Henry had always been the youngest gentleman of their set. The baby. And yet his absence had been like the one of a middle child who gets overlooked.
After all the inquiring and searching was over, no clue of Henry's current whereabouts seemed to exist. Mrs. Curwood had a near breakdown that sent the rest of the elders into turmoil and hysteria. Mr. Darcy led them all to the main sitting room, unaware that his children, nephews, and nieces were left in the dining room, enveloped into a contrasting serenity. Louisa and Henrietta Filmont were entertained by something different, Charles had sat down and began to think, Bennet dispiritedly leaned against a doorframe next to an appalled John, and Richard looked pale and distraught by utter shock. William began to nervously pace, and Elizabeth and Margaret both were staring wide-eyed at the empty chair meant for their friend.
Elizabeth tried not to think of what might have actually happened to Henry. Highwaymen did not act frequently during the day, yet no one quite knew. It was the only answer, as much as it brought an incredible amount of pain to the pit of her stomach. She could not believe that he was gone. Not Henry. Not that the boy that she had grown up with, tagging after in the grounds of Pemberley or the parks in London, with his big blue eyes and radiant smile under a shower of freckles and hair golden as the sun. Elizabeth had loved him like a brother and yet they were not even related by blood.
William's pacing finally got to Elizabeth. It was enough that she had to try and not bawl hysterically for the second time in four days.
"Will you stop it and sit down!" She cried out. "You are making everyone even more distressed!"
He sharply stopped in the middle of the room and everyone raised their eyes to him, waiting for his response.
"As opposed to your yelling, which is probably meant to soothe everyone!" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Tearing a hole into the floor will not bring him back!"
"Neither will such a pathetic display!"
"Cease such behaviour instantly!" Mr. Darcy yelled into the dining room suddenly. "I am sure no one here will tolerate such conduct...Especially from you, Fitzwilliam!"
William flinched, not been used to have his father use this kind of tone toward him ever since he was a child. Elizabeth seemed to forget her manners and made a face at her cousin.
"Nor will we tolerate you behaving like a child, Elizabeth!" Said her father, who had joined his brother-in-law at the threshold of the dining room.
She quieted down instantly and wiped a few indignant tears that had run down her cheeks. William looked at her and immediately regretted his harsh words. She hid her face in her arms, crossed as they were on the tabletop, next to a line of silverware and just stayed still. Margaret came to her aid immediately and sitting down next to her, began stroking the dark curls entwined in intricate braids as was the fashion. With her face still hidden, Elizabeth put out a pale hand to take her cousin's and each held the other's fingers for support.
"Everything will be all right. I am sure he is... We will find him..." Margaret mumbled looking at her brother and then at Bennet for help. But Bennet seemed to be too busy glaring at his brother and John was too dumbstruck to do anything.
"Please God," Elizabeth was muttering into the hard wood, "please bring him back."
William bit his lower lip hard, half squelching the urge he had to throw himself at her feet, half busy thinking of what he could do. And it was then that Richard got up like a thunderbolt and left the dining room in a flurry. Bennet glanced at William in concern, thinking that the reality of his younger brother's disappearance had finally hit Richard. And yet neither went after their cousin.
"Meg," said Bennet in a light tone, "take Beth upstairs. I am sure Uncle Bingley could send some supper there for her."
"I do not need to be treated like a child, Bennet!" Elizabeth replied crossly.
"I am just concerned for you!" He yelled back.
She remained with her face concealed in her arms and mumbled a shy "Sorry."
He smiled lightly and then put out a hand to ruffle the braided hair, but his actions were interrupted by Richard, who came back as quickly as he had left, anxiously holding out a piece of paper. He stopped in the middle of the room, his blond hair wildly raked through, eyes wild, and hands trembling.
"What is it, Curwood?" Asked William.
"He left. He ran away with her. He says he loves her and that he has no wish to be with anyone else."
For the first time ever since arguing with William, Elizabeth raised her head from the table. Several of her curls had popped out of the twist and were now wildly framing her face, but no one really noticed.
"Who's...Her?" She asked, half-knowing the answer.
"Fanny Pratt."
Although it was a great relief that Henry was alive, the house was still thrown into chaos over his sudden and unknown departure. That evening, Elizabeth was able to make sure that everyone was fed and taken care of because her mother was asked by everyone to retire early due to the situation. Even though Elizabeth's semblance was calm and she acted cool enough not give out any more reason for the servants to gossip, her mind was overturning Henry and Fanny's escape with a sickening degree of guilt.
It was all her fault, after all.
She had been the one to introduce Henry to her. Obviously, neither Bennet nor William had offered him any knowledge regarding Fanny's past doings. Not even Richard was probably aware of the story, so why would Henry have any reason not to fall in love with her? Not fall into her trap. Yet this was what greatly puzzled Elizabeth. Henry was a younger son. He had no settled inheritance. Even though he was destined to the Law, she knew that he still had to make a name for himself. And Henry was so tranquil, that he never worried one bit about his future. It did not matter to him how his life was going to turn out, because he fancied himself a man who lived for the present. So why had Fanny chosen him and not his brother or anyone else for that matter? Why Henry?
The answer came quick enough. The Darcy name would be affected enough by all that, for was not Henry the son of Fitzwilliam Darcy's precious sister? Henry would probably have his allowance withdrawn right away and be ruined, along with their relations' good name. The joke withstood that Darcy had let her marry a doctor because he was so worried about her health and welfare. So what was going to happen to the Darcys when their reckless nephew became involved with a married woman with an already dubious reputation?
And it was all her doing. Gritting her teeth so as not to cry openly while going about the corridors the next morning, Elizabeth tried to think of what to do. Half of her wanted to go make her parents take her to London so she could search for Henry. The other half felt compelled in her duty to stay behind and offer a steady hand to her aunts and mother. She felt utterly and completely helpless, torn between wanting to do something effective and knowing that by trying to do so she would put her uncle's reputation in further hazard. It was not seemingly for a young lady like herself to go hunting for errant relations. By the time she reached the library in search of some quietude, she already had a resolve formulated in her head. But as she was about to enter the room, she heard the sounds of heavy arguing. Thinking at first that it was her uncle Darcy one of the party, she stepped back, but then she heard Bennet's voice and she decided to see what was going on.
William and Bennet were glaring at each other in the middle of the room. There was a chair tossed about and their coats were shed about the furniture.
"If you had stayed away from her like I told you to, none of this would have happened!" William shouted. "But, no! I had to come in and save the damsel in distress, did I not? See what has happened here? This is obviously some sort of sick revenge!"
"Yes, but if you had not decided to keep everything a secret, then Harry would know that viper's true nature and stayed away from her himself! And so would I, as a matter of fact!"
"Go ahead then! Shout it out of the rooftops! Let Mother and Father know that you cannot take care of yourself!"
"I cannot take care of myself? If there is one thing that I will let Father and Mother know is what a coward you are. I at least have the galls to do what my heart tells me to do! You are so afraid of everyone finding out that the over-perfect, pretty-faced Darcy heir made what he sees as an error of judgement and fell in love with his own cousin."
Elizabeth gasped softly. He loved her. He lied to me. He said that he had only acted to her in a friendly manner. He cared about her and he hid it from me...And even if she was after their fortune and their name, was that the main reason that he was upset over her being attached to Ben? It cannot be. But Ben just said...And he...
Breathing hard, Elizabeth reached out to the doorframe for support.
While these thoughts were running through her head, making her blood gradually rise to her temple, pounding, Bennet turned around at the sound and saw her. He then stepped closer to William and whispered something in his ear, which made William blanche and then turn to look at her. His eyes darted back to his brother's form in front of him, clouded with rage. Without a second thought, to Elizabeth's horror, he landed a punch right on Bennet's face, which sent the younger man stumbling backwards violently over a chair before hitting the floor at the same time she let out a scream.
Somehow, however, Bennet instantly got up and lunged at his elder brother, taking him to the carpeted floor. Soon enough, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were in the library, pulling the fighting gentlemen away from each other.
When Mr. Darcy saw that Bennet had calmed down, he let go of him, as did Mr. Bingley when he perceived that William had settled down either. Bennet wiped the corner of his bleeding mouth and exited the library in a rage, stalking off as if his boots were about to open the house's wooden floor.
"Satisfied now?" Mr. Darcy demanded of his elder son.
"I apologize, Papa." Said William, shocking Elizabeth with his form of address, but not so much as to forget her anger.
"Stay here and think about what a spectacle you have made of yourself, young man! And before you even have the time to think that you are the only one in trouble, I will assure you that your brother is not going anywhere without having a little word with me first!"
With that, both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley left the room.
Elizabeth was petrified in her place. She did not even hear when her father called her out of the room. She kept staring at William, with cravat undone and his hair ruffled, as he sunk exhaustedly into the armchair he had been previously occupying. His eyes were darkened by what could only be defined as ire. But instead of sympathising with him, she found herself completely overtaken with anger.
"What is the matter with you?" She demanded silently, tears rising out of nowhere and blurring her vision.
He just looked at her.
"Why did you do this? What has he done to you other than saying the absolute truth?" She asked angrily, wiping her eyes frantically.
The gaze he turned to her was the same one he had when she had refused him at Linton, marred with pain and struggle under a thin veil of surprise and indignation.
"Do not give opinions on matters you do not know anything about, Elizabeth."
"If I do not, it is because you have not been completely honest with me!" She countered, her body shaking with rage. "And your brother has once again to pay for your mistakes, William Darcy!"
"My mistakes!" He cried out loud. "My brother deserved exactly what he got and he knows it!"
She gaped at him, stupefied with the violence of his words.
"How can you even say something like that!?"
"The same way you can stand here in this stupid manner and make these ridiculous assumptions!"
"I am only reacting to what I saw!"
"Exactly! What you saw was one thing, what you ought to have heard in order to determine either my guilt or my brother's innocence was another!"
Elizabeth blinked, seeing he had a point. She had not caught the argument in its origin or actually heard what Bennet had said to ignite his brother's further fury. She paled considerably and then reddened.
"You are too quick to distort everything that comes out my mouth, cousin, and I resent that." He said slowly.
With that, he stalked out of the room, leaving her there in one tremulous mass of self-consciousness. But this time, he slammed the door behind him.
Chapter 40
Elizabeth ran past a couple of servants, dabbing furiously at her tearful eyes. Thoughts of what was happening were being overturned in her head with desperation and she did not stop to hear what Margaret wanted from her when her cousin called out for her in the hallway. She entered her chambers in a flurry, collapsing in the four-poster bed and hiding her face in the puffed sleeves of her morning dress, weeping.
She felt someone sit next to her on the bed and a hand slowly stroke her hair so softly, she could barely feel the touch.
"He hates me." She mumbled through her sobs.
"Who hates you, dearest?" Margaret asked.
Elizabeth raised her reddened eyes and swollen face to meet her cousin's steady, forlorn gaze.
"Cousin Darcy does."
Margaret seemed somewhat appalled. "Why would William hate you?"
"Because!" She cried out, moving to rest her head on Margaret's lap like she did when they were small.
"Pardon?"
"Henry and Fanny! It is all my fault, Meg. I was the one who befriended that conniving witch in the first place! And then he and Ben were fighting and I had to blast him, of course, because I cannot seem to keep my assumptions to myself when they are neither wanted nor necessarily correct."
"I saw the commotion near the library, but I was not aware that you were involved in it until I saw you run out...Bennet and William fought?"
"Yes! And I had to make a spectacle of myself, of course, and interfere. Apparently they were each blaming the other for what happened to Harry...Can they not see it is my fault all this happened?"
Margaret sighed wistfully and pulled a misplaced pin out of Elizabeth's hair to adjust it properly. "First of all, you had no idea of knowing Mrs. Pratt's true nature..."
"Yes, I did! I should have seen through her!" She interrupted and then sat up in bed and took a deep breath.
"Meg, do you remember when I told you about Cousin William's letter? About what he told me about Fanny?"
Margaret blinked and then nodded. Elizabeth went on, looking down at her skirt and biting her lip.
"I...I concealed some information...From you."
The older girl was surprised. "You concealed information from me. Why?"
"Because you were in love with Ben and I did not want you to suffer any further."
Margaret glared at her and crossed her arms. "Well? What was it that you did not tell me?"
"Ben was...Ben was once attached to Mrs. Pratt, Meg, when she was just engaged to her husband. Cousin Darcy however, stepped in and was able to stop things from developing into any more."
Margaret frowned, looking a little confused. Elizabeth went on.
"This was what they were arguing about. William's previous insistence that they keep it a secret...You see why I was so distressed? I let it all happen again."
Margaret was watching her curiously. "Why are you so concerned about William's opinion of you all of a sudden?"
Elizabeth ran her hand on her nose, sniffed, but did not answer. Indeed! She recalled the look of hurt that fleeted through his face while they argued and felt her heart contract at the thought.
"I have a headache." She said lamely.
"I will leave you then." Said Margaret, smiling down at her best friend with teasing eyes. "Or do you wish me to stay and be very, very quiet instead?"
Elizabeth laughed mildly through her tears, remembering the times when she would be too concerned about her mother's health to leave her room and Margaret would keep her company.
"You forgive me, Meg?" She asked quietly.
"Yes, dearest. You were foolish, but then you always were..."
Elizabeth made a face at her. "Stay, please. I do not wish to be alone."
Elizabeth woke up when it was already dark outside. She lay in the bed, fussing with her dress, and thinking about ways to fix the situation and make it up to the Curwoods and the Darcys. She needed to talk to William, explain to him that she had acted wrongly and that she was to blame about the situation. She pictured William in the library, flushed from his brawl with Bennet, shirt and hair undone sweat trickling down his cheeks. In her mind, she would find a way to make him smile at her the way he had at Pemberley and she would feel swept away, just as she had felt then.
Her eyes bulged wide open at that.
Swept away!? What the deuce are you thinking of!?
"Why does everything need to be so complicated?" She muttered, getting up and putting on her slippers.
She trudged out of the room and decided to go look for her cousin, never mind her hair was a mess and her dress rumpled.
"...I have sent for Anne, from France...She is coming with the school mistress straight away and will remain with us until the situation goes back to normal. Georgiana wants her with us right now. We leave tomorrow morning, as a matter of fact. I hope you are not offended, Bingley."
Dr. Curwood and her father were in the library. Elizabeth slowly turned the knob and pushed the heavy door open. In the room sat Mr. Darcy, Mr. Fawley, her father, the doctor, and Richard.
"Beth!" Her father exclaimed. "Are you feeling any better, dearest? Meg said you had a headache."
With the sole exception of her father, every other occupant of the room was eyeing her quizzically. But Mr. Bingley soon became aware of the critical disarray his daughter's hair was in and in the huge creases her dress presented. So he turned to her once more.
"Do you not have a maid to help you get properly changed?"
She blushed and looked down at her well-manicured fingernails. "Have you seen Cousin William, Papa?"
Mr. Bingley sighed. "Will left this afternoon. He left for London, because of business matters. Your uncle actually gave him his blessing to go. We are not keen on having Will knock all of Ben's teeth out of his mouth."
"Why could not Ben go!?" She cried out thoughtlessly.
Mr. Darcy frowned. "I figured you would prefer Ben to stay here with you... Besides, Will has business there!"
"What good is Ben!?" She demanded, frowning and stomping out of the room.
And what stupid business could he have in Town at a time like this!?
William sunk himself into the darkness of the carriage and though he tried to keep his mind focused on more urgent business, he could not help but picture with a strain in his heart, the tearful, scared eyes of Elizabeth Bingley as they stared at him and Bennet in the library.
" 'Look at her, Will. She looks as if she is about to burst into tears for something that is our fault. Would you do that to the woman you love?'"
He repeated to himself Bennet's previous words to him in the silence of the vehicle, feeling their sound intensify his mortification.
So Bennet knew of his feelings for Elizabeth, but that was not what mattered at the moment. Why did he have to blow up at him like that in the first place? Bennet had actually tried to help him. He had found him in the library, reading, and come to him with worry written all over his brown eyes.
"I am concerned about Beth." He had said, taking off his coat and laying it on the chair next to him. The fire built in the room the night before had left it extremely warm.
William raised his eyebrows to his brother and took off his spectacles. "Pardon?"
"Beth, Will! I know she is blaming herself for all this! She was the one who befriended Fanny and introduced her to Henry." At his alarmed look, he continued. "Never mind me and your stupid ideas of having to protect me. Beth may appear extremely confident, but ever since she was little, she takes it upon herself to be responsible for everything that happens in the family. I think it may have something to do with Aunt Bingley's condition, but never mind where it comes from. I know she is probably somewhere kicking herself in the head about all this and she may even try to do something extremely stupid."
William felt anguish rise in his chest. All the envy he felt for his brother somehow came to surface with that speech. Bennet knew so much about her, it was sickening. And now not only was she in pain once more, but he had to have his brother tell him of it, because frankly he had no idea that Elizabeth would simply consider it all her own responsibility. He had felt that she would try to blame him somehow, a thought that made him despise himself instantly.
"You love her, do you not?" William asked, spitting the words out. "I was right after all."
Bennet's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "Of course I love her, you idiot! She is my best friend! You do not need to get into a jealous fit because I care about her!"
"I am not in a jealous fit!"
Bennet smirked sarcastically. "No, you are not. I suppose you lash out at me about every other woman I speak to you about. Oh, except for Fanny, but then you never did admit you had a thing for Pratt's lady love..."
He glared at him and got up, knocking his jacket off the arm of his chair. Bennet followed suit and stood staring defiantly at him.
"Do not get clever with me, Bennet."
"I am not 'getting clever'." Bennet said calmly. "I am only trying to point out to you that my best friend is suffering because of something that is our fault! And you instead blow up at me for it! Are you that insecure of your charms, Will? Afraid that she might refuse you? Again?"
"If you had stayed away from Fanny like I told you to, none of this would have happened!" He finally shouted. "But, no! I had to come in and save the damsel in distress, did I not? See what has happened here? This is obviously some sort of sick revenge!"
And then Elizabeth had walked in and hell had been broken loose. He paid a heavy price for his doubt of Bennet's brotherly feelings for her. Or maybe it was the reality that his brother would forever live in her heart, while he was some distant memory- someone who had proposed marriage to her once so abominably she had been astonished - that made him desperate. Even though she had been ignorant in her assumptions earlier in the library, he had himself to blame. Had he listened to his brother instead of losing his head, he would have been probably comforting Elizabeth right now.
Not mention the fact that Bennet probably hated him as well. As much as it cost him to admit it, William honestly did not know if he could live with the fact that the relationship between him and his younger brother had been marred, no matter whose fault it was.
It was with fresh tears in his eyes that William leaned his back against the seat and glued his eyes on the landscape so that he would not fall asleep and dream of her.
All he had to do now was go to London and try to right some of the wrongs, so that she could at least have her friends' happiness to rejoice upon. And as for him, he would have to learn how to live without the hope of ever earning her love.
"If Bennet and Margaret marry, there will be probably enough Darcys to carry on the name. I might prove myself to be that expendable." He muttered bitterly.
She sat on the swing her father had put up on a tree a long time ago, when he had thoughts of children, but no thoughts of moving from Netherfield. Pushing herself off with a booted foot, Elizabeth grasped the rope that was firmly tied on the sturdiest branch that tree could have and let the wind caress whatever stray curl she had flaying about her face.
Lost in the movement, she did not hear the heavy steps crushing the leaves the September wind had torn from the trees around her.
"Beth?"
The voice was subdued and devoid of its usual humor. She stopped the swing with her foot and turned to see Bennet there, his head tilted sideways reminding her of a small bird. She turned away like she had been doing ever since he had stalked away from the library the previous morning. It just hurt that much.
"Come, Beth, for old times' sake."
She did not turn. Resolutely silent, she only hoped he would understand that she did not wish to speak to him and that he would leave her be.
"Please turn around. I will not move until you do so..."
Silence.
"Betsy?"
She felt her eyes sting when he uttered the childhood nickname. Then she heard steps behind her, but instead of going away, they were even louder. In no time, Bennet was on his knees before her, pathetically looking up at her from the ground, blinking his huge brown eyes in that way he had that never failed to send her smiling. She turned sideways to conceal her face, but he broke into a triumphant grin.
"Aw, Bets...No more trifling with me, I can see you are grinning your head off!"
She turned to look at him and he sprung to his feet instantly, bumping her sideways so he could share the swing with her.
"You are crying!"
"Of course I am crying, you idiot!" She exclaimed.
"Why?"
"I was horrible to your brother!"
He laughed, however bitterly, and she turned to gape at him.
"Beth, you have been horrible to Will from the time you learned to speak coherently!"
She laughed in spite of herself, but then slapped his arm for not taking her seriously.
"Do you know why I was so horrible to him?" She asked.
"No." He said, but turned to her with his eyes full of expectation.
"Because he was being horrible to you, you hard-headed slob! And then it turns out,apparently that you were the horrible one! What do you think I feel like?"
He smiled ruefully. "Like a horrible, stupid person?"
"Yes!"
"I am sorry. I was just jesting. You should not feel so, Beth. If there is one horrible, stupid person here it is I. Will...He just responded to my provoking him, as any person would have. He left without even speaking to me and it is tearing me apart because he has been nothing else but good to me. Too good, I should say."
She smiled through her tears. "An ideal elder brother?"
"Well, he tends to be so composed sometimes, I feel like kicking him in the shins, but otherwise, yes."
She turned to glare at him, but he looked frighteningly serious. Seeing him like that is frightening indeed...When did we ever lose our old ways, Ben?
She felt his arm around her shoulders suddenly.
"I am sorry."
His eyes were humorless. He meant it.
"I am sorry you had to see that and I am sorry I made you think he was the one in the wrong. I am entirely to blame for what happened, even if he had a hand at it...Let us just say that... I meddled with aspects of my brother's life that I was not supposed to."
"Then you will go and apologize to him?"
"It is not a matter of apologizing, Beth. It is a matter of coming to an understanding. He lost his head and then I lost mine and made him even more miserable."
He squeezed her shoulders when she nodded lamely and then got up.
"Are you still my shooting partner, Bingley?" He asked with a rueful grin.
She grinned back at him. "Even if I make the entire fowl population migrate to Scotland?"
"Even if you make the God forsaken birds never return!"
"Then the answer is yes, Darcy!"
He ruffled her hair and walked back to the manor.
Chapter 41
Elizabeth fiddled with the pianoforte in the music room. Fingering notes, trying one piece, then another, distracting herself out of her boredom and out of her distress. She felt melancholy and powerless; never had being a woman come to be such a burden to her. She could not see her needle basket without having the wish to fling it out of a window. There was nothing she could do to help. Nothing. She had to sit at home and do what everybody else was doing: waiting. And waiting she had been, for nearly three weeks now.
The Curwoods had left for Warwick; the Filmonts had gone back to Linton. John and Mr. Fawley had gone to London to help with the men's search of Henry. Bennet was the only male left in the house and that was because his father decreed it. Otherwise he would have gone, too. Margaret, her aunts, her mother and herself had been left at the countryside as if the men had all gone to war. Every post missive that came was received enthusiastically, every caller welcomed. It was maddeningly boring.
"I cannot take this any longer." She huffed when she heard a step behind her in the music room.
"Do you want me to play with you a duet?" Asked Margaret, walking toward the harp. She had been taught to play the instrument, but could only manage to play simple pieces, as she found herself not talented enough.
"Do you wish me to be honest?" She asked in return, wrinkling her nose upwards. "I would dearly wish for a ride outside."
"'Tis dark already, Beth."
"So?"
"It is dangerous!"
She leaped out of the stool. "I am going out."
"Be-eth!"
Elizabeth ignored Margaret's pleas and walked out of the music room, grabbed a jacket from her dressing room, and sprinted out of the house and to the stables. She felt miserable, for some reason. And when she felt fear making her body shiver because she could not see a thing beyond the horse's head, she was reminded of that afternoon she had spent with William and they had gone home when it was already quite dark, all wet, laughing, and joking around.
You cannot miss him based on one lousy afternoon! She thought angrily. But I certainly do wish it had been more than that... I wish Grandmamma had not died so suddenly or that Ben had not ever arrived...
"Listen to yourself!" She whispered angrily to the wind. "You are being selfish again and foolish! He hates you, remember?"
"Talking to yourself, are you?"
Elizabeth nearly jumped out of her skin when the subject of her thoughts approached her slowly on his own horse, out of the darkness like a sudden vision. She felt a chill run through her spine when she recalled the angry words they had traded the last time they had been together, but could not help from exclaiming her surprise in seeing him there.
His voice sounded coldly distant and it felt like a slap in the face. "Good evening, cousin..."
"What are you doing here?" She blurted out, pushing away the stray wisps of hair that were windblown over her eyes.
He looked at her quizzically.
Wonderful. Now you have to go and insult him.
"I have come to...Ah...See Bennet on a matter of urgent business." He said stiffly.
"You could not have written to him?"
It could not get any worse, could it?
He eyed her amusedly in the darkness. "No. It is something of a serious nature, which will be best seen to in person...May I ask what you are doing? Outdoors after the sun has been out for so long, I mean..."
"Riding, of course."
"Of course." He said with a smirk.
What was that!?
"I saw that, sir." She said thoughtlessly.
"Pardon?" He said, turning around.
"That... You....Smirking! You think it improper that I should be out when it is dark already!" She accused.
His eyes glinted at her and his eyebrows were formidably raised, but she could not see the delighted expression on his face in the dark. "Why, yes!"
Is it possible that he has forgotten all the fun we had? She thought with a tinge of sadness as he rode off quietly ahead of her in a shockingly rude manner. But then maybe if you had not behaved abominably the last time you were together, he might not have.
She put on her usual pert air. "You have not changed a bit, have you, sir?"
The spectacle you two made of yourselves last time should be enough proof to you, foolish ninny! She thought to herself.
He reined the horse to a stop and turned it around so that he could face her better. "No more than you have!"
She flushed with rage with her blood boiling and pounding on her head. He was still as insufferable as ever!
He turned and headed to the house, leaving her uncovered from the dew, tittering in the cold wind and glaring at his back.
It was awfully strange.
It just feels absolutely wrong. She thought as she pushed the food around in her plate.
The table was not silent, but being devoid of the one thing she had done the most that year finally sent Elizabeth into a nervous fit that expressed itself through a loss of appetite and speech. Being seated far away from William and having him quite ignore her had an amazing effect on her.
I miss what Harry calls our 'battle of wits'. We are of so similar natures that our taciturn dispositions and need to speak unless with the purpose of amazing the whole room made us turn to each other for fulfillment. That must be it.
It did not struck her that she had grown so used to being the focus of his attention that lacking it was now disturbing her.
However, William did not seem to be affected by the distance put between them. In fact, he could have spoken to her all through the evening and had not. He had become the young man she knew from her childhood: quiet, brooding, aloof, and yet when it had been necessary that she be pert to rebuke a comment made by Bennet, he had not looked on her with neither admiration nor his old demonstration of disapproval. He had gone unfazed, as if it did not concern him - which it did not - but then had he never made it his occupation to patronize and criticize her?
Elizabeth glanced sideways at him and saw him chatting amiably with Rebecca Clayton. That did it. He had never shown any form of interest for his less privileged cousins before, apart from the time that he had defended their father from Lady Filmont's comments. It sent Elizabeth into a surge of this feeling she could not quite place at first, but then blushed in mortification as soon as she found herself willing him to look at her instead of at the other girl.
Am I jealous? .
"Beth, you do not seem so well." She heard Bennet say quietly.
Margaret immediately agreed with him. "Yes. What is the matter, Beth?"
She did not know where to hide. How could she explain that she was indisposed without having everyone worry about her? Or worse: What if they found out the reason behind her distress?
"I...I have a headache, that is all." She mumbled over her food.
"Have you tried eating?" Bennet asked with one corner of his mouth twisted slightly at the sight of the untouched contents of her plate.
"I am not hungry." She said silently.
Unconsciously, she turned to look at William and saw that he had stopped eating and was looking at her, his face blank. Her heart began to race and she blushed. She fixed her gaze on her food and bit her lip hard.
"I think we should send for a doctor." Said Mrs. Darcy, obviously concerned.
"No!" She cried out. "I do not need a doctor. It is only a headache."
She got up tremulously and Margaret got up to follow her.
"I need to lie down." She said in a little voice, looking at her mother for some form of consent.
Mrs. Bingley nodded, her blue eyes filled with concern. "Go on, dearest. I will be with you shortly."
She nodded and then curtsied lamely before trudging out of the dining room. When she finally reached her chambers, she was feeling a tight knot in her throat choking her into unshed tears that hung to her lashes.
Why does everything have to be so confusing?
She lay down quietly and was already asleep when her mother came into her room to see how she was faring.
She awoke the next morning with a bustle in her room. Echoing laughter was coming from the hallway and it was one that could only have been Bennet's. Elizabeth sat up in bed sleepily and rubbed her eyes when she perceived that someone had changed her into her nightclothes and unbound her hair the night before. She ran a hand to tame the dark elf-locks into place, but froze in action when she saw Margaret, eyes filled with merry tears, looking back at her with the biggest smile Elizabeth had ever seen grace her cousin's features.
"He still loves me!" She cried out.
It took a few minutes for the information to register, but Elizabeth's eyes opened wide when it did.
"Of course he does!" Was all she could manage through the rush of emotions that were overtaking her.
"We are to be married! He sent an express to Papa this very minute, asking for his permission. We simply cannot wait until he and Johnny are back from Town!"
At this Elizabeth leaped out of the bed and into Margaret's embrace.
"I am so, so happy for you!" She said with misty eyes.
"I am so happy myself. The happiest I have ever been!"
"You deserve it all, Meggie...You truly do. And so does Ben, no matter what an idiot he was."
Margaret's smile faded, even if the glow of happiness lingered over her. "He told me about William's interference."
Elizabeth bit her lip. Hard. "Are they on good terms?"
"The best. Ben says he is too happy to care. Apparently all has been forgotten between them, Beth."
Of course. They are brothers. You are the one who stepped in and made a fool of yourself.
Suddenly, it hit her. This was William's sudden business with Bennet that could only be taken care of in person!
She felt her heart swell with genuine admiration that William could so readily forgive his brother and make it a point to right a previous wrong. Then, her heart contracted in pain at the knowledge a man as good as him was forever lost to her.
When was he ever mine to have? The only time it was so, I refused him as if accepting him would be the most nonsensical thing in the world.
"I only wish you could be happy as well." Said Margaret, as if reading her thoughts.
Elizabeth smiled at her with all the tenderness she could manage. This was the sister she never had and those feelings, voiced in such earnestness could only be proof that the feeling was mutual.
"I am happy." She said with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"You know what I mean, Elizabeth!"
"Of course I do, Margaret, but I will pretend that this is what you mean so that you stop conveying foolish notions. I shall be perfectly happy to be an old maid and teach your children to play their instruments very ill!"
Margaret's laughter was sincere, but then it suddenly subdued. "I do not consider your happiness a foolish thing, you know."
Elizabeth found herself once more in her cousin's scented embrace.
"I know you do not, dearest." She said softly, but bit her lower lip hard in spite of herself.
Chapter 42
After being through with the initial euphoria due to Margaret and Bennet's engagement, Elizabeth got dressed and went to the breakfast room to join the family. In a sharp contrast to the previous situation, everyone seemed ecstatic that morning and Elizabeth was no exception. But she found herself searching for her finest mourning gown and asked Joan to do her hair in the intricate braid pattern that suited her features best. She swore to herself it was merely because she wished to thank William for his good deed, even if something tugged at her heart every time she thought there different reasons were behind her behaviour.
"Good morning!" She greeted cheerfully as she entered the room.
Her eyes immediately searched for William, but he was nowhere in sight. Sitting down, she tried to put on as much of a casual demeanor as possible.
"Pray, is Cousin Darcy in the library?"
Mrs. Darcy, sitting on the head of the table with eyes dancing over her cup of tea, blinked at her, eyebrows raised.
"I am afraid Will left for London early this morning, dearest."
"Oh?" She said, feeling her heart stop with such knowledge.
She looked down at her plate momentarily and then fell into discussing the happy turn of events. She was not about to dwell on William's absence.
You know better than to lament his being gone. He came here to do what he had to do and left. It is as simple as that.
Breakfast being over, she sought refuge in the library, behind Much Ado About Nothing.
"You know, depending on me, I would have you stand up with me at the wedding. But Mother told me that was not such a good idea."
She looked up from the book to see Bennet standing before her, grinning.
"No, I gather it is not." She said, smiling back. "Besides, me and Meg vowed that we would be each other's bridesmaids when we were children."
"Oh! So you were not such a terrible tomboy after all."
She laughed. "I suppose not."
"Oh, well. I will have to make Will do then."
"Yes. He is the best man you could ever get, Ben."
"Oh? And what prompted this radical change of opinion in regards of my honorable eldest brother?"
Elizabeth dissimulated her embarrassment by being as pert as him. "Five words for you, dearest: seventeen thousand pounds a year."
Bennet sputtered in laughter. "I never knew you to be so shallow, Beth!"
"There are many things you do not know about me!" She said, tossing her head back.
He snorted derisively. "You wish!"
She frowned, but refrained from commenting as he sat down in one of the chairs, picking up a stray volume from the table before him and letting his eyes roam over its cover before he put it down again. Not bearing the silence any longer, Elizabeth cleared her throat.
"Are you getting married in London, in Somerset, or at Pemberley?" She asked.
Bennet brightened considerably. "We have come to a decision as Uncle Fawley has not even granted his permission yet...But, well, with Will solving the Harry business, we should be able to have it all settled soon enough."
Elizabeth gasped and dropped her book on her lap. It slid down her skirt and fell at her feet unheeded.
What!?
"Henry has been found?"
Bennet blanched, his eyes wide. "I was not supposed to tell you. I do not know what for, because after all, you are very close to him..."
"Hush, Ben!" She exclaimed, shutting her eyes and waving her hands at him.
"What for?" He asked. "I already said it anyway..."
"But if you were told not tell anyone, then you have no business telling me!"
"But it was not-"
"No more, Ben! Please! Respect the Curwoods' wishes."
"But I am telling you that..." Seeing Elizabeth's desperate look, he just waved his hand at her in a reproduction of her earlier actions. "Oh, forget it! You are too stubborn... I will just save you from not having to cover your ears and sing as loud as you can like you used to do when we were children!"
William dismounted his horse and handed the reigns to the stableman. He briskly walked towards the front door of his parents' townhouse and the door was immediately opened to him. Probably someone had seen him arriving and let the butler know. He frowned as he looked up at the majestic stone building he had rarely inhabited as a child. His parents always thought that the country was a far better place to be raised rather than chaotic and turbulent London.
I should get a townhouse of my own. It is time Father cuts my purse strings...I do not care what Mother says...
He remembered the canvas of emotions his brother's face had been that evening, when they had talked for more than three hours. Apologies and confessions made, Bennet seemed hardly in any shape to sleep. His eyes were wide with excitement and the brandy they consumed did not have one ounce of effect in the younger man. William had left the library for his quarters slightly morose and tired, even if he was relieved his brother had forgiven him. He bit his lower lip when he recalled his brother's last words to him.
"You still have a chance at winning her heart, Will. Remember Pemberley."
The image he had in head was of Elizabeth furious at him for having stolen her mare and then laughing at him as they spoke of his cousins. But he shook his head in order to rid his senses of Elizabeth Bingley and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair in order to stay focused.
Handing his coat and hat to the footman, he strolled inside, rolling his shoulders in order to get rid of the tension, and stopped short before the main sitting room when he saw his father and a lady caller through the open door. His father's eyes caught his and he smiled, getting up, in spite of the fact that the older man's brown orbs were flashing at him enough for him to tremble.
"William!" He called out, getting up.
He blinked when he saw the woman sitting there was his own aunt, Mrs. Curwood. The lady looked flushed with happiness and William felt comforted by seeing no traces of her former state, when Henry's whereabouts were still unknown to the family and only mere assumptions to him.
"Aunt Curwood." He said smiling. "I can tell you have good news."
"Yes, indeed I do! Henry has come home! He is not entirely open as what prompted his return, but I am too relieved to care!"
William pretended to be surprised the best he could. "Indeed! I am too glad for words! Is he at home now?"
"You will not go anywhere, young man. I was very concerned by the way you left yesterday without giving me any inkling of where you were going."
William blinked. "I apologize, Father, but I had to...Talk to Bennet about something at Netherfield."
William instantly kicked himself in the head for such a lame excuse.
"Could you not have written?"
William ran a hand through his curls, trying to forget the way Elizabeth had looked at him when she had asked him the very same question. "I wished to talk to him in person. About the incident at Netherfield last time..."
"Oh?" His father asked, looking relieved. "And I suppose you two have settled your differences now?"
"Yes. That and...Father, prepare yourself," he said with a smile, "you are about to get yourself a future daughter-in-law."
William left the room before he was bombarded with questions from the elderly siblings.
As it was expected from him, Mr. Fawley sent back an express to Netherfield. Its inhabitants were all assembled in the main drawing room after dinner, two days later, when a servant walked in and came with an express post addressed to Mr. Bennet Darcy. With trembling hands, Bennet broke the seal and read the missive, running his hands through his hair like any Darcy would.
"Oh, dear Lord." He croaked when he finished reading it. He put it down and looked at his beloved with his eyes filled with emotion.
"What is the matter?" Elizabeth asked. "Has he refused?"
Margaret got up tremulously from her seat and crossed the room to stand next to him. He extended his arm backwards in an attempt at getting the letter out of her reach and then put his other arm around her waist.
He sighed dramatically and looked deeply into her eyes.
"It is official. Mr. Bennet Edward Fitzwilliam Darcy, son of Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire is engaged to Margaret Catherine, only daughter of John and Catherine Fawley of Glassborough, Somerset."
Upon hearing such pompous announcement, Elizabeth let out a shriek and sprung to her feet. She waited for Bennet to let go of Margaret and then rushed to the both of them, first embracing Margaret warmly and then throwing her arms around Bennet's neck.
"I cannot believe you did that to us." She said, her eyes filled with merry tears.
"Pardon?"
She glared at him. "That...That horrible excuse of deceitful acting, which had us all thinking that Uncle Fawley had plainly refused to have you as his son."
He laughed. "Did you honestly think he had refused?"
"It would not surprise me, giving your last display of insufferableness." She huffed.
"Upon my word! Is this what you think of me?"
"I do recall one morning that I called you 'a lousy everything', much to your fiancée's chagrin."
"It was the same morning that we happened upon you in the garden drenched and tittering from cold." He grinned. "Much to your father's chagrin."
"It was also the same morning I realized that Meg loved you, but do not flatter yourself."
"Why is that?" He asked, eyebrow cocked in a challenge.
"I was only teasing... The truth is, I think she has a great sense of judgment."
He blinked innocently. "I think we both do, my Meg and I."
"Why you conceited-"
He cut her off. "Because we both love you dearly."
The confession was not lost on her, but she raised an eyebrow just like his previous one. "How many daughters are you going to name after me?"
"None. We are naming all our children after Will...But no one has any claim on the hounds, so..."
She slapped his arm soundly and then Margaret came to her fiancé's rescue, promptly giving Elizabeth a fine scolding for doing bodily harm to the man she loved.
Chapter 43
Elizabeth curled up at the window seat of her father's library at the Bingley townhouse in London, and cheerfully sighed as she looked down on the passers-by, all clad in heavy clothes because of the bitter cold wind that announced winter was coming. She was kept warm by a fire and a blanket snugly wrapped around her shoulders, but she could clearly feel how cold it was outside as she leaned against the glass, resting her head against it as her eyes wandered from the page to the street below and then back to the page again.
Netherfield had been closed again when Mr. Darcy wrote, telling its inhabitants the good news of Henry's return to his friends and circle and, settling the matters of his younger son's betrothal. She was more than glad to help her mother and her aunts with arrangements to leave for Town to meet with the rest of their set and abandon mourning after a month and a half. Elizabeth wore blue for the first time when she put on her heavy cloak in order to travel and then was glad to find a seamstress already at the townhouse when she was welcomed by Mrs. Jones, all ready to fit her with lavish wools and velvets for the winter.
It had been scarce three days since her arrival into town, but she already felt like all dealings with Mrs. Pratt and the tearing emotions of her and William's argument were left far away in the past. With Bennet and Margaret engaged and Henry rescued, they could all go back to like it was before.
"Miss Beth?"
She raised her eyes from her book to raise inquisitive eyebrows at the maid standing there.
"Yes, Janet?"
"A Mr. Curwood to see you, ma'am."
She closed her book in a hurry, thanked Janet, and went directly to the front sitting room. She beamed when Henry Curwood turned around to greet her from where he had been admiring the portrait of her mother that hung over the mantel.
"Meg resembles her a lot, does she not?"
Elizabeth grinned at him. "Yes. That she does... They are both beautiful."
"And you resemble Aunt Lizzy. Our elders must not find it surprising that you both are like sisters."
We might have been sisters. She thought instantly.
He opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it. She crossed the room and shook his hand warmly.
"I am so glad you are back with us, Henry."
He looked at her with amused eyes. "So am I, Elizabeth."
"'Elizabeth' and 'Henry' sound so awkward, do they not?" She asked, laughing while gesturing him to sit down somewhere.
"I remember once Lady Catherine saying that I should not be referred to as Henry, much less 'Harry'." He laughed. "It was no use, however, the old crow was to die hearing us say our names were Will, Ben, Harry, Rich, Belle, and Kate. Only James did not have a nickname..."
Elizabeth laughed with him. "What would she have them call you?"
"Darcy, of course." He rolled his eyes and turned his voice into a nasal falsetto. "'Darcy Henry Curwood, I will not withstand this pet name business in my home! Your cousin's name is Fitzwilliam, not Will and his brother's name is Bennet, not 'Ben'!"
Elizabeth was laughing so hard she could barely speak. "Well, Grandmamma wanted Mama and Papa to name me after all the Bennet women, as the Fawleys were set in naming Meg after her Grandmother Fawley..."
"As if your name is not long enough already..."
"I know. She finally settled for Elizabeth Jane Catherine, not forgetting the Bennet bit at the end...How is your family, pray?"
Henry smiled fondly. "They are all in good health. Annie will be staying with us until the New Year. You should see her, Beth, she is almost as tall as you!"
"Well, being as tall as me is not something difficult to achieve." She said humorously.
"That is what I told her, so it would not go up to her head."
"Why, you-!"
They laughed for a while and then Elizabeth grew serious. If I do not ask him now, I believe I never will.
"Harry," she said in a little voice, "was it really Cousin Darcy who found you?"
He looked a bit surprised at her question and then let out a deep breath, fidgeting a bit in his seat and the running his hand through his hair, like a good Darcy.
"Yes. Will was my 'rescuer' as one would dramatically put it. It really does nothing for my dignity." He laughed sadly. "But I am glad he came to me and...Put matters into a bit of perspective."
"I am so sorry, Harry." Elizabeth said quietly. "Had I known... I know I am the one to blame for it..."
Henry began to laugh hysterically and Elizabeth raised both her eyebrows at him inquisitively.
"Look at yourself! All fastidious and brooding ... I would have mistaken you for Darcy!" He said while she tried not to look disconcerted. He turned to mimicking. "'It was my fault, Henry.'"
Elizabeth tucked an errant curl behind her ear as she reached out to ring for tea while frowning at him. "So he took it upon himself to find you."
"Yes! And I am glad he did." He grew serious. "To think of the harm I could have done to my family."
She shook her head and put a hand on his wrist. "You were deceived...And in love, Harry...It is not your fault...How did Cousin Darcy find out where you were?"
Henry smiled at her and shook his head, chuckling for a minute. "Will gave me no details regarding how he knew it. Apparently he has taken upon himself to be Mr. Secrecy. It does nothing for his countenance...Lately he has been looking like he has sucked a lemon."
"Harry!"
He only laughed. "Do not yell at me for it...Besides, he has been all strange about it. Told me no one was to know that he was the one who talked sense into me. Bennet apparently figured it out on his own."
Elizabeth's eyes grew wider than they already were. Henry was taken aback.
"You are not even blinking, Beth."
How can I? She thought. The man is a puzzle. Why would he want to hide it from everyone?
She shook off the feeling and looked at Henry. "I am just...Confused. I thought your parents had been the ones who asked for secrecy, not Wil- Cousin Darcy."
"Why would my parents ask for secrecy among the family? I had already disappeared in front of everyone anyway..." He said with a sad smile.
"I know. That greatly puzzled me, but I thought it was just a...A precaution of sorts."
"From whom?" Henry asked, frowning.
Elizabeth laughed derisively. "Well, Ben blurted out to me that the 'Harry issue' had been solved the day he found out about it apparently. If it had indeed been a precaution so the entire story would not get exaggerated in the end, it would have come to nothing."
"Why?" He asked teasingly. "You are not to trust either?"
"Apparently not. Did I not just interrogate you?" She laughed.
"Oh, of course."
"Let us talk of cheerful things, however..." She said smiling.
"Well, there is the happy news of Ben and Meg's engagement...Ready to help with planning and fittings for bridesmaid dresses?"
A maid walked in and put a tea tray in front of them. They each helped themselves, but the interruption did not phase out Elizabeth's enthusiasm over her cousins' betrothal.
"I am as ready as I could ever be!" She exclaimed merrily. "Have you tried to persuade Ben to tell you if they have chosen a date already?"
Henry was kept from replying by a new servant, who meekly walked into the room and announced incoherently what Elizabeth could only make out to be "gentleman". Elizabeth rose to her feet expectantly, but inadvertently sat down when she saw it was Bennet who walked through the door.
"By God, where are your manners?" He said in a mock demanding tone.
Then in walked William, looking a little flustered as he held on limply to his top hat and cane and bowed at those present, mumbling a lame 'good day'. Henry turned an amused eye on Elizabeth, who was wondering why he had not been announced, as she scrambled to her feet once again and curtsied, much to Bennet's utter astonishment.
"You keep frightening me, Beth." Bennet said. "No pert regard as to my unworthiness as to require a proper greeting? No ironic comments? No jokes?"
Apparently, he had not failed to realize that Elizabeth's fussy behaviour was because of his brother's presence, not his. William walked over to a seat near the window and looked out of it, not saying a word.
Elizabeth shrugged at Bennet, but thought. Admit it. You changed because of him.
At this, she blushed.
"You have been doing a lot of blushing lately, too. Very out of character, would you not say so, Curwood?"
Henry laughed. "I agree with you. Is it possible that she has acquired modesty after all this time?"
Elizabeth indignantly stamped her foot on the ground, as red as one could get. "I am here, you know! You both should have the decency to speak like that when you are at least out of my father's door."
"She is the only person on Earth who likes to be talked about behind her back. It makes her feel herself important, I suppose." Bennet laughed as she glowered at him exasperatedly.
He sat down on a chair, his cousins and brother following his example, and promptly raised an eyebrow at both Elizabeth and Henry. "So what were you children talking of?
"You." Elizabeth said with a shrug.
"Oh?"
"Yes," said Henry, "we were both wondering why you and Meg have not yet set a date for your wedding."
Bennet moved in his chair and cleared his throat. "Well, apparently Mother has some sick idea that we should wait. I wonder if she is waiting for Will to find a girl he can propose to so we can have a double wedding...You know how fanciful women can be."
Elizabeth glared at him, but her mind was busy thinking of other matters.
It could have been a double wedding.
Henry soundly smirked. "Well, if you are depending on Will marrying someone, then you will be married by the time you are seventy!"
Elizabeth promptly averted her eyes, missing the look of astonished embarrassment on William's face upon such comment. Bennet joined on the snickering.
"I will be forced to see Meg in a clandestine manner!"
Wrong thing to say, Benny. Elizabeth thought. Her eyes darted to Henry's demeanour and saw that he seemed a little disgruntled with the comment. William was glaring at his brother, too.
"Oh, what is the matter with me!" Elizabeth cried out suddenly. "You obviously would like tea, as well."
"Yes," said William, fidgeting, "that would be very nice."
She smiled at him, remembering that afternoon at Netherfield when both had rescued everyone from a dose too many of mortification in one meal. He did not return the smile, however, just stared at her momentarily and then averted his eyes.
Oh, indeed...What is the matter with you? Elizabeth mentally scolded herself. There is nothing for him to be smiling about! His brother has just nearly caused a scene.
When tea came into the room, William opened his mouth for the second time in the whole course of the visit, directing his words to her.
"Well, Bennet and I had actually come to...Ah...Inform you that our parents will be holding a ball at Pemberley in a good three weeks to celebrate Bennet's engagement. I understand my aunt and uncle are out for the afternoon?"
Elizabeth nodded, realizing that he had not come for her, but for her parents only. She maintained her composure even if she felt like screaming.
"Yes, Mama has gone to call on Aunt Hurst and Papa had business to attend to, I do not recall precisely where...But I can assure you that we have no settled engagements."
"Excellent," he said, blinking, "excellent."
And not a single word escaped his mouth for the rest of his time there. Elizabeth talked animatedly with Henry and Bennet, but always kept one eye at the figure sitting on the chair closest to the window, staring silently out of it broodingly like he had done before. When Henry and Bennet left the room so that Henry could show him his knew cane, Neither said a word to each other. William seemed not even aware that they were alone.
She took in his handsome profile, feeling herself churning inside and ordering him to look at her at least once so that he could read in her eyes that she was sorry. As if he had read her thoughts, he turned to look at her and upon finding himself the object of scrutiny, raised both his eyebrows at her.
Elizabeth blushed and averted her eyes.
"I did not mean to stare, Cousin Darcy. My mind just wandered. I apologise."
"You are a bad liar, Cousin Elizabeth." He said with a flicker of a smile at her that made her heart leap.
She clumsily took a sip of her tea, trying to restrain her flaming cheeks. "I was merely thinking - well, I was trying actually, to illustrate your character."
Argh! Whoever would come up with such pathetic excuse?!?
"And what is your success?" He asked, catching her off guard for a moment.
She breathed steadily and tilted her head to the side, genuinely considering him. The words enigma and mystery crept into her head slowly and she sunk her teeth into her lower lip.
"I do not get on at all, sir. Not at all." She said honestly after a while, biting her tongue the minute the words left her lips.
He frowned and looked away, but she did not catch on to such actions, as she was too busy being captivated by the lace in her afternoon dress.
"I..." He began.
She looked up at him expectantly, but at that moment, Bennet and Henry entered the room.
"May we please have some music, Beth?" He asked in a childlike manner.
Henry joined in, grinning. "Please, Beth?"
She looked at William, who was again looking out of the window, and then glowered at the younger gentlemen for what felt like the millionth time in the course of the afternoon.
"All right." She said and got up, stalking out of the room as she mulled over what William could have possibly wanted to say to her.
Chapter 44
Elizabeth peered out of the carriage window in an accurate reproduction of her actions the last time she had been in the same situation. The sight of the manor house made her breath catch in her throat and sent her stomach into further knots. As it quickly disappeared behind the wilderness surrounding the road, she turned back to her parents and earned two very different, but altogether good-natured smiles. She never failed to be struck at how suited her parents were for each other and this time it was no exception.
"As much as it makes me terribly envious, I admit that I see your fondness for Pemberley, dearest."
Elizabeth smiled, shaking her head as if her father were speaking absurdly. "I love Wragby dearly, Papa."
"I know you do. But I cannot help but feel that it was your will that made us come here the summer you were born. After all, you were not due for a whole month."
Mrs. Bingley laughed. "I gather it could be so."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her parents. "All right. I confess I do love Pemberley, but Wragby is my home, London is what keeps me alive, and Netherfield is what I owe my life to."
Mr. Bingley chuckled. "Too true."
"And if I do love Pemberley now, it is because it will be home to Meg in the future." She said with a dissimulating smile. It is not because of whatever foolish inklings my head has been given to lately. She berated herself before continuing. "Although Bennet has mentioned taking residence in London. Do not ask me how they will afford that."
"I am sure that Darcy could manage to lease a townhouse for him until he settles in a profession and has his purse strings cut lose."
Elizabeth nodded. "I will miss them terribly. I thought that everything would go back to being the same, but I am afraid it is entirely the contrary."
"What do you mean?" Asked her father. "Back to being the same? When have things between the lot of you been different?"
Elizabeth sighed and looked out of the window. "Never mind, Papa."
She had been in Pemberley for two hours and yet had not seen William. He had not been there when they had arrived and neither had he joined them for refreshments. Unusual, since he was known for his politeness. As the minutes passed, her expectation only grew and sometimes left her incapable of breathing, as a nervous film seemed to clog her insides until it hurt. She had not seen him since his calling on her in London and since then, nearly a month had passed. She had been too busy with getting ready for the ball (her father had been indulgent enough in agreeing with his wife to give her a new gown) and the Darcys had journeyed to Pemberley as soon as the formal invitations were issued, and the betrothal announcement was posted on the newspaper.
She was wandering about the house when she heard the sounds of the pianoforte coming from the music room. She smiled, knowing full well that it was her aunt who was playing, and decided to go join her and perhaps even play a duet. When she reached the tightly closed door, however, the melody she heard was not familiar at all. It struck Elizabeth as the most wonderful piece of music she had ever heard and she drowned into the sounds willingly, leaning her forehead against the wooden door so she could hear better. Proficient fingers were playing this and her aunt liked simple tunes better. She frowned when she remembered that Mrs. Curwood had not yet arrived at Pemberley and that the Wellands would be arriving strictly for the ball. No one there would have been known for playing like that.
Her hand itched to turn the knob and open the door to see whom the player was, but she restrained herself until she could not take it anymore and did so, opening the door ever so slowly, in hope that she would not be noticed.
She was dumbstruck when it was William she saw there, so engrossed in playing he did not even perceive the door had been opened and closed and that she had stepped into the music room. Elizabeth did not utter a single sound. Not because she was so incredibly amazed, but because she was not capable of. His fingers flew over the keys gently with each chord and his semblance was calm as he peered at the music sheet in front of him from behind his lashes. It was only then, when she felt her heart beating so hard it hurt, that she realized that he was the only man suited for her. That she admired, adored, and loved him as if she had been born to do so. She blinked and swallowed, fully aware of the million thoughts that were running through her head even if she was paying attention to the music and time had seemed to come to a standstill.
At last he stopped and Elizabeth mentally urged him to resume playing so that she could watch him more as he sat there in absolute concentration with whatever little sunlight that poured into the room reflecting over his dark curls and the dark countenance she had learned was not sinister at all.
"C-cousin Elizabeth!"
She blinked, aware that he had sensed her presence and that he was looking at her, flushed and embarrassed.
She felt herself blushing and nodded to him nervously before stammering "I...I apologise for intruding on your...Privacy...I did not mean to disturb you...I..."
"No... Ah...It is of no consequence." He said, getting up and bowing. "I must apologize for not properly greeting you...And your parents."
She shook her head, at a loss of what to say. Finally she managed something. "What piece was that? I have never heard it before."
"It is something my cousin Anne brought for me from France. She is ten years old and confined into a boarding school, but alas, she can be very resourceful. It is by a Polish composer...He is quite young actually...Chopin, I believe is his name."
"It is wonderful."
He blinked. "I could lend you the sheets for you to learn."
She found herself smiling teasingly at him. "I am not as proficient as you seem to be. I did not know you played, by the way."
"Ben and I have had our lessons, but I was the only one who developed a true passion for it...And you are the most proficient player I have ever seen, so it is not that great a challenge."
She blushed scarlet, but before she could either thank him or reply, Bennet walked into the room and grabbed her by the arm.
"Beth! The Fawleys are here! Oh, Will..." He turned to her, surprised. "How the deuce did you manage to have him play for you, Beth?"
William surprisingly smiled at her, which nearly caused her to run into the doorframe face first. "She promised to sing after supper tonight."
A cloud of peach satin billowed about the room in its fullness, followed by a slight giggle. Elizabeth smiled, hands folded on the lap of her dress as she sat on the large four-poster bed of the bedroom she was appointed to at Pemberley. Growing serious, Margaret put the glorious evening gown down, tugging at her own housedress and smoothing over the soft fabric.
"Absolutely breathtaking." Elizabeth said with a smile. "You will make the entire ton envious."
"Nonsense." Said Margaret modestly, but then considered it in a most unlikely manner and smiled down at her cousin. "You really think so?"
"I would not be saying so if I did not." Said Elizabeth giggling and then acquired a playful glint in her eyes. "And I shall be very content to say that I am going to be your bridesmaid."
"You shall be admired, Beth. There is no reason for gloating."
"Oh, there is." She said. "After all, I get to be the closest friend to the sweetest creature on Earth."
Margaret turned serious all of a sudden. "You do know that Ben did not mean that remark about the hounds, right? I am naming our first daughter after you."
"There are enough 'Elizabeths' in the family. Furthermore, your mother would be very disappointed."
"Who says I will have only one little girl?" Said Margaret with a giggle. "Besides, naming her after you already makes Aunt Lizzy her namesake as well."
"Does it not sound funny to be calling your future mother-in-law 'Aunt'?"
"Not as much as calling my future brother and my future husband 'cousins'."
Both girls giggled, but Margaret sobered up quick enough.
"Since we are on that subject...Beth, am I wrong in saying that your opinion of William has improved somewhat?"
Elizabeth swallowed hard and frowned.
"Why do you say that, dearest?" She asked, afraid that her voice might give away her uneasiness.
"Well, I may have been mistaken, but before Henry's disappearance, you both seemed to be on good terms. You at least stopped teasing him from four to five minutes."
"I did not tease him!" She said hotly.
"Yes, you did!" Margaret said, laughing. "Beth, you were always at each other's throats. More so this year than in any other!"
Elizabeth bit her lip. "Well, I did enjoy his company when we were at Pemberley together. But that was before."
"Before Netherfield?"
"I suppose so."
"Have you ever thought of apologising to him?" Asked Margaret. "You call him proud, but you are even more stubborn than he is, Beth, and you saw that giving it a chance, you both can be very good friends."
Friends. Is that what I really want to be to him? She thought as she remembered him playing the pianoforte that same afternoon.
"I do not think that we are meant to be friends, Meg. We always find a way to lose our tempers when in each other's company for long. He stole my horse at Pemberley and I simply blew up."
Margaret laughed. "See? Stubborn!"
"Why are you saying all this, Meg?" She asked, frustrated with the quiver in her insides that thinking too much of William Darcy usually amounted to.
He saved Henry from Fanny, despite it being all my fault. Is there no logic to your actions, Fitzwilliam Darcy?
Margaret was laughing mildly. "I am to be his sister. You are best friend to his brother and myself. I do not want heads rolling over my dinner table."