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Chapter 7
Elizabeth was lying patiently in bed waiting for Mr. Darcy's visit. She could honestly say that she felt fully recovered from her fall and that she was herself once again. While desirous of returning to Longbourn, she had promised Jane she would not remove until Mr. Manning released her from his care. This being the case, she was free to take great pleasure in remaining in close proximity of Mr. Darcy.
He had usually come by now, thought Elizabeth, but she was not concerned. He would come as he always did and they would talk. She wanted to know more about his childhood and his years at school. She desired to tell him everything she could about herself and her family. She hoped that for just a moment they would be left alone, that having some errand or other, Anne would leave the room. She craved his touch again.
Elizabeth answered a knock at her door, knowing full well by the sound that it was not Mr. Darcy. Though she felt some disappointment when Mr. Bingley stepped into the room, she was immediately cheered by his warm greeting.
"Miss Bennet, good morning!" said Bingley. "Good morning, Anne." He walked in hesitantly, sounding more cheerful than he felt, burdened by the message he was about to deliver.
"Good morning, sir," replied Anne.
As he glanced toward Anne, she was able to see an expression of strain in his eyes. She could sense his discomfort, and wondered what was disturbing him. She also noticed that Miss Bennet seemed unaware that anything might be the matter.
"Good morning, Mr. Bingley. It is a pleasure to see you again," said Elizabeth. She eyed Mr. Bingley curiously. He had rarely come to visit her.
Bingley glanced out the window, unsure of himself. "It is a beautiful day today," he said.
Usually, Bingley could think of any number of things to say, but now he could not. He was a lively, outgoing individual who was very interested in other people. Such a person rarely wanted for things about which to talk.
"Yes, it is," said Elizabeth. "Anne drew the curtains for me early this morning."
Elizabeth began to understand that Mr. Bingley was suffering from some sort of distress or other concern. His brow remained furrowed despite the good humor in his voice.
"I am delighted to see you in such obvious good health, Miss Elizabeth. Do you know what Mr. Manning's plans are for you yet?" he asked of her.
It was only on rare occasions that he had been required to carry ill tidings to another person. He considered himself unequal to the task, particularly in this instance. Though Darcy might have left without speaking to Miss Elizabeth, she was under his roof, truly under his protection and he would not leave her wondering. As uncomfortable as it would be, he had to tell her the truth about Darcy's departure from Netherfield without a word to her.
"He is to come this morning, Mr. Bingley. If he determines that I am well, which I am, he will allow me to leave in two days time," said Elizabeth. "Everyone here has been so kind to me that I shall be sorry to leave." She acknowledged it all with a radiant smile.
While Elizabeth anticipated with pleasure returning to her home, she knew she would not see Mr. Darcy nearly so often. She hoped he would come to see her every day and for as long as possible. Elizabeth was quite familiar with her own feelings. She knew she loved Mr. Darcy despite the short duration of their acquaintance. No one had ever made her feel as loved and cared for as did he. With Mr. Darcy there was something else. There was the feeling of being cherished - protected and cherished.
Bingley had exhausted his efforts at small talk.
"Miss Bennet, I have to tell you something which is upsetting to me, and I fear your disapprobation."
Bingley crossed the room to stand near her bed. He had not spent much time in company with Miss Elizabeth, so while he was aware of her attachment to Darcy, until that morning, he had not known the extent of it. Darcy had answered that question. His final words, his confession that he loved Elizabeth, had told it all. There was no doubt in Bingley's mind that she returned those feelings.
"I will always approve of you, Mr. Bingley," she said with a smile. "What is your news?"
"Um ... I..."
His strength left him and he had to turn away from her, her trusting eyes cutting into his conscience. Why must he feel guilty for Darcy's behavior? Bingley wondered if he had been the cause of the evil. Should he have intervened and prevented Darcy from having so much access to Elizabeth?
He tried to speak without any emotion in his voice, but he could hide none of it when he blurted out, "Mr. Darcy left Netherfield very early this morning for London." Bingley let out a sigh and closed his eyes.
Elizabeth was not prepared for this news. She was not prepared for anything other than Mr. Darcy walking through the door of her bedchamber.
"He did? Did he say when he would be back?" asked Elizabeth warily. She felt a knot forming inside her stomach.
"He only said that he would return soon," he replied. "Did he come to bid you his farewell?" asked Bingley. He knew, of course, that Darcy had not been to her.
"No, I had no idea that he was leaving. I had expected to see him this morning." She paused for a moment, searching her mind for some explanation as to why he would go.
"Did he leave any message for me?" Her eyes pleaded earnestly for a positive answer, but he could not satisfy her. He was in agony when he replied to her.
"No, Miss Elizabeth, he did not."
Bingley could see the brightness fade from her eyes. His own heart was struggling to understand the pain she must now be feeling.
"I see," said Elizabeth sadly. She felt herself sinking under the weight of a breaking heart.
Anne looked up from her work in astonishment. Mr. Darcy leaving Miss Elizabeth like this would have been the last thing she imagined happening. He seemed so devoted to her, so attached to her.
Bingley knew that Miss Elizabeth's sister was expected at any moment. Unwilling to remain in the room, he used Miss Bennet as an excuse to leave.
"I believe your sister is coming today, Miss Elizabeth. I will bring her to you as soon as she arrives."
Elizabeth looked up at him, and the pain on her face was unbearable to witness.
With a bow, Bingley left the room to await with dread the arrival of Miss Bennet, whom he knew would be angry at the news. Miss Bennet was very protective of Miss Elizabeth. She would not be understanding, nor would she be tolerant. He only hoped that his future with Miss Bennet would not be injured by Darcy's ill treatment of Miss Elizabeth.
A servant led Jane to the drawing room where Mr. Bingley was sitting. Looking in, she observed that he seemed oblivious to the noise and activity surrounding him. She dismissed the servant before she could be announced and quietly approached Mr. Bingley. She wanted to spend a moment studying his features, but became alarmed when she noticed that he appeared to be troubled. Concerned that something might be amiss, she spoke to him.
"Mr. Bingley, are you well?"
Bingley was shocked out of his reverie by the sound of her voice. "Forgive me for not receiving you properly," he said as he stood. "You are very welcome to Netherfield, Miss Bennet."
"Thank you, sir." She hesitated and saw with discomfort the questioning look he gave her.
"Mr. Bingley, may I take the liberty of asking what it is that is troubling you?"
He paused for a moment, unable to immediately answer her. When he could finally speak, he said, "I am pained and distressed, not only for myself," he stopped and looked away, "but for others, as well."
"May I be of any..."
He did not allow her to finish. "Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy has left Netherfield for London," said Bingley. He knew what he was about to say was going to give her pain. "He went early this morning and without seeing your sister or leaving any message for her."
"What?!" Jane was shocked. "Why?" She stepped away from him as an icy feeling rushed through her body.
This is what she had feared most, that Mr. Darcy would hurt her sister. She knew that Elizabeth loved Mr. Darcy with her whole heart. She would be devastated.
Bingley gave her a look that communicated that he had no good answer for her question.
"Does Elizabeth know?" she asked fearfully.
"Yes," he said, "I have just returned from informing her."
"You should have allowed me to tell her!" she cried in frustration.
Jane's features were flushed from the anger and resentment she felt for Mr. Darcy. She had warned him, yet he had done this. How much damage had he caused her dear sister, the most loving heart she knew? How was she to comfort Elizabeth and assist her in healing from such a blow as this?
Jane felt consumed with self-reproach. She blamed herself for not doing more to discourage Elizabeth's interest in Mr. Darcy, for trusting everyone at Netherfield to care for her beloved sister and for not doing something, anything, that would have prevented the pain under which Elizabeth would now be suffering.
"Miss Bennet, please..." he began.
She interrupted him. "I must go to Elizabeth immediately!"
Mr. Bingley followed Jane as she quickly left the drawing room and marched to the staircase. She felt her anger rise with each step that she took towards Elizabeth's room.
Jane took a deep breath, then knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer.
"Lizzy," begged Jane, "please allow me to come in."
Still there was no answer.
Jane turned to Mr. Bingley and said, "Mr. Bingley, would you please excuse me?"
He nodded. "Yes, of course," he said. All he could do was accede to her wishes.
Jane watched him retreat to the staircase before she cracked open the door to Elizabeth's room.
"Lizzy?" Jane was immediately in a fright. Anne had been dismissed. Elizabeth was not in her bed. Jane rushed into the room to find her struggling with pins and buttons in an effort to dress herself. She was crying silently, large, heavy tears pouring out of her eyes. Her whole body was shaking.
Jane put her arms around her and murmured comforting words. Elizabeth returned the embrace and slowly began to relax in Jane's arms.
"He left," Elizabeth whimpered, "he's gone."
Fresh tears fell on Jane's shoulder as Elizabeth cried for what seemed to Jane an eternity.
Elizabeth lifted her head, looked deeply into Jane's eyes and whispered, "Jane, I want to go home."
"But what about Mr. Manning's...
"I do not care for Mr. Manning's opinion!" cried Elizabeth. "I cannot remain here any longer."
"Of course, Lizzy." Jane sympathized with Elizabeth's desire to leave and she could not, and would not, refuse her. Jane knew that Elizabeth's heart would ache for Mr. Darcy every moment that she was at Netherfield.
"Please help me dress, Jane. I must get away from here." Elizabeth resolutely wiped her tears away.
"I will help you. Here, turn around..."
While assisting Elizabeth, Jane's thoughts were raging against Mr. Darcy. She would never forgive him if anything happened to Elizabeth because she was leaving Netherfield without Mr. Manning's consent. In fact, she knew not whether she could forgive Mr. Bingley, either. Elizabeth had been under Mr. Bingley's protection, and she wondered if this result was the consequence of concerned and diligent protection.
Perhaps, most surely, Mr. Bingley was not at fault, but she was angry and could not hide her displeasure.
"Lizzy, please rest here for a moment," said Jane as she walked her to a chair, "while I call for our carriage and tell Mr. Bingley that we are leaving."
Elizabeth nodded and sat heavily in the chair. Her thoughts did not stray far from Mr. Darcy and all the memories that were connected to that chair.
With one parting look at Elizabeth, Jane descended the stairs and found Mr. Bingley waiting for her in the hall.
"Miss Bennet," said Bingley with a pained voice, "please forgive me for assuming the office of informing Miss Elizabeth of Darcy's departure. I felt she ought to know as soon as possible."
He sympathized with Miss Bennet's anger and knew that a portion of it was directed at him. Desperate to say anything, he inquired after Miss Elizabeth.
"How is your sister?" he said. "Is there anything I can do to assist her?"
"She is not well, Mr. Bingley, not well at all," said Jane firmly, "and insists on removing to Longbourn. If you would be so kind as to call for our carriage."
"Miss Bennet, I am familiar with Mr. Manning's instructions to her," he said in a worried voice. He had not imagined that she would leave before her time and grew concerned for her health. "She is very welcome to remain here until Mr. Manning pronounces that she is well."
"She is determined, sir, and will not be swayed, nor will I make any attempt to persuade her otherwise!" said Jane with great feeling.
Bingley, not surprised at her decision, could only sigh. "Very well then, let me call for your carriage and I will send Anne to pack her trunk."
"Thank you, Mr. Bingley, but we must leave at once. Please send the trunk around later."
Jane felt compassion for him after beholding the stricken expression on his face. "Sir," she said gently, "I know you meant no harm."
He nodded, grateful at least for one kind word from her.
"You must be aware of Elizabeth's attachment to Mr. Darcy, one, I know, that she felt was reciprocated. Consequently, she is hurt, confused and upset by his leaving in so callous a manner. It would appear to me that he was merely trifling with her affections."
Feeling a need to defend the integrity of his friend, he made a feeble effort to speak in his defense.
"He said he would return soon." Bingley regretted making that statement the moment he had expressed it.
"That is of small comfort to Elizabeth, sir!" said Jane coldly.
On hearing her carriage, Jane left him without another word and went upstairs to retrieve Elizabeth, who, thankfully, thought Jane, had heard nothing of her exchange with Mr. Bingley.
As the young women descended the stairs, Elizabeth leaned heavily on Jane's arm, causing the latter to understand that perhaps Elizabeth was not as strong as she had believed.
Elizabeth was aware of nothing around her, and Jane, attending to her sister, ignored an apology Mr. Bingley was attempting. They were handed into their coach by a groom who raised the step, shut the door and signaled to the driver that it was time to be off.
Bingley watched their progress away from Netherfield until their carriage was out of sight. When he could not see or hear it any longer, he returned to the house with a slow, defeated step. What had come over Darcy that he would behave in this manner? His behavior was unspeakable. The harm he had done was irreparable. Despite their years of friendship, it was as if he had never known Darcy at all. What also pained him was the possibility that his friend's actions may have cost him the future he hoped to achieve with Miss Jane Bennet.
Jane sat next to Elizabeth in the carriage stroking her fingers while Elizabeth rested her head on Jane's shoulder. However much Elizabeth may have suffered from her fall, it was not nearly as painful as the suffering from a broken heart. As they approached the halfway point to Longbourn, Elizabeth spoke.
"Jane, thank you for taking me home," she whispered. "I could not have remained there. I could not ... Oh, Jane!" A sob racked Elizabeth's body
Jane knew not what to say. She was grateful to have been at hand and knowing Elizabeth's temperament as she did, was certain that Elizabeth would have fled Netherfield on foot had she not been there.
When Elizabeth had finally understood the full implications of what it meant for Mr. Darcy to leave in such a cold manner, she felt the whole fabric of her life ripped out from beneath her. She had nothing left with which to support her. She had given her whole self to him. He had gone so heartlessly and shattered her life into pieces. When she had recovered from the first sensations of pain, those icy feelings were replaced by a panic to get away from Netherfield. To that end, she had left her bed and was making an unsuccessful effort to dress herself when she was discovered, most thankfully, by her sister. Never had Jane been so welcome a sight to her as at that moment.
"Lizzy, I am so sorry Mr. Darcy left you. I do not know what to say to comfort you," said Jane.
"Jane, I do not understand. I know he loves me," said Elizabeth.
"Please do not say such things, Lizzy. If he truly loved you, he would not have gone."
"He does love me, Jane," said Elizabeth firmly.
Jane dared not respond to this assertion, and they completed the ride in silence. Elizabeth was unable to speak any longer and Jane was unwilling to say anything for fear of speaking of Mr. Darcy in a manner that might cause her sister to try and defend him. She had nothing pleasant to say about the detestable Mr. Darcy, but knew Elizabeth was too deeply touched by him to be able to listen to Jane's opinion on the matter. No, she would keep her own counsel and let time do the rest. She feared, though, that Elizabeth would be forever changed, and not for the better. Having suffered such a betrayal, would she ever learn to trust again?
"I feel so cold and alone, Jane, like a part of me is missing," lamented Elizabeth. "I do not recognize my own reflection in the glass."
Upon their arrival at home, Jane assisted Elizabeth to her room and saw her safely into bed. Unwilling to leave her alone, Jane sat through the night with Elizabeth, occasionally drifting off to sleep, but waking up with every movement, with every sound, that Elizabeth made. Twice she laid herself on the bed next to Elizabeth to comfort her while she cried in her sleep. Not since observing Elizabeth's reaction at the time of their father's death had Jane witnessed such sorrow. Only one who loved with her whole heart could suffer so much under the pain of losing the object of that love.
During those moments when Elizabeth was quietly sleeping, Jane had time to reflect soberly on the events of the day. Her heart ached to see Elizabeth suffering and she felt herself at a loss to know how to comfort her.
She had regrets of her own to which she must be reconciled, regrets surrounding Mr. Bingley. She was angry with herself for having been unkind to him at first and unjustly accusing him of hurting Elizabeth. If she were in Elizabeth's place, she would have wanted to know immediately about Mr. Darcy's departure. Mr. Bingley was correct in breaking the news to Elizabeth, and, of course, had she been at hand, he would have agreed that it was her place to do it.
The possibility that Mr. Bingley might think ill of her was a troubling prospect, but it helped her to understand her own feelings. She had liked other men, but there was no other man that made her feel the way he did. In his presence, she felt beautiful and wanted. With him, she could forget about the concerns of caring for an estate and feel young and alive. She liked herself better when she was in company with him than at any other time and if she had her wish, she would never be parted from him again.
Now it might be too late. He had good cause to be offended by her words, and it would not be unreasonable for him to feel resentful and angry. She wished it was in her power to apologize and to restore his good opinion, but all she could do was hope. Hope that he would come to see her and hope that she could obtain his forgiveness.
The next morning Bingley called at Longbourn. His acknowledged purpose was to be assured that Miss Elizabeth was well and that she had not suffered any reversal because of her early departure from Netherfield. He was in dread of any bad news concerning her health. His true motive was that he wanted to ascertain Miss Bennet's feelings toward himself. He was uncomfortable enough in this regard, particularly after her icy parting from him the day before. In all their other meetings she had been warm and charming, and when looking back on the course of their acquaintance, he was encouraged by her reaction to him. Perhaps he was presumptuous, but he could no longer prevent himself from attempting to positively engage Miss Bennet's affections, if only she would give him the opportunity.
He had suffered a long night, sometimes awash with despair that Miss Bennet would think ill of him, often resentful of his friend for damaging the goodwill he had achieved with Miss Bennet thus far and occasionally hopeful that all would end well. For his own peace of mind, he decided he would not wait another day, but would go early to Longbourn, tell her all he felt and hope that she would accept him. He could not endure another night of uncertainty. Either he would have her or he would be in misery, but at least he would be free from the pain of not knowing.
Mrs. Hill took Bingley's hat and gloves and showed him into the drawing room. He hoped Miss Elizabeth was not ill and hoped that Miss Bennet would forgive him for any implication in the affair that she might attribute to him. Darcy might be a fool, but he would not be.
Jane entered the drawing room, her heart pounding. She had not expected to see Mr. Bingley so soon, but was pleased that he had come, more than she could express.
"Good day, Mr. Bingley," said Jane brightly, trying to mask her nervousness.
He was already encouraged by the nature of her greeting.
"Miss Bennet, I hope I am not intruding," Bingley said hesitantly as he walked over to her.
"You are not," she smiled, offering him her hand. Wanting to heal the breach she felt must exist between them, she added, "You are very welcome to Longbourn, Mr. Bingley, and it is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming."
His face shone with a pleasing smile. They were quiet for a moment, and all that passed between them was a look, but it was enough. It spoke volumes about what they felt for each other. Her fears of the prior evening were silenced and she was greatly relieved.
She moved over to a sofa and invited Mr. Bingley to sit down.
He seated himself next to her. "I want to inquire after the health of your sister." In a anxious tone, he added, "Has Mr. Manning attended her yet?"
He held his breath, for he knew that whatever success he would have with Miss Bennet that morning would depend on her response to his inquiries.
"Yes, he came this morning. Be assured that she is well." She saw him visibly relax, and understood the depth of the concern he had for Elizabeth.
"Mr. Manning sympathized with her impatience to return to Longbourn and was very kind," said Jane. They both knew the reason for her impatience, but neither would venture further on the subject.
"I am delighted to hear that. I feared that her sudden removal from Netherfield might have delayed her return to health," said Bingley cautiously.
How could she ever have imagined that she could be angry with Mr. Bingley?
"She keeps to her room," said Jane, "but I will let her know that you asked after her."
He cleared his throat and moved uncomfortably in his seat.
"Miss Bennet, please allow me to express...I am sorry."
"Sorry?" she asked with an expression of wonder.
"I mean, I did not...I meant to inquire after...after yourself," he stuttered nervously. "How are you, Miss Bennet?"
Jane bit her lip for a moment and paused, wondering what she should say, and decided that this was her opportunity to make amends.
"I must apologize, Mr. Bingley, for being ungracious yesterday when we left Netherfield. I am frustrated with Mr. Darcy, but I know you are not responsible for his actions," said Jane with lowered eyes.
"Say nothing of it," said Bingley, "for I join you in being very angry with Darcy's behavior towards your sister. I truly thought he cared for her, and that he would leave so abruptly, and so uncaringly, was the farthest thing from my mind."
Bingley stood up and began pacing around the room. All the way from Netherfield he had been arguing with himself as to the manner in which she would receive his addresses. Miss Bennet seemed better pleased with him than he would have thought possible. It must be wrong, he thought, it must be too soon, but he would not turn back now. He would ask her.
Jane watched him walk back and forth with some confusion. For a moment, he seemed oblivious of her and looked as though he was carrying on some type of conversation with himself. He appeared to be nervous. This was a side of Mr. Bingley she had not seen before. It was true, though, that she had not seen many sides of Mr. Bingley, but was hoping that someday she might know all there was to know about him. If only Mr. Darcy had not gone away as he did, Mr. Bingley might not feel uncomfortable with her now.
"Mr. Bingley?"
He stopped moving and sat next to her again, closer than propriety dictated, but Jane was unconcerned. In fact, she felt a thrill at his proximity.
"Miss Bennet," he began, "I have enjoyed our acquaintance very much, and though the circumstance under which it began was unfortunate, being in your company has given me the greatest pleasure."
She looked at him expectantly.
"Miss Bennet," he stopped and cleared his throat, "the purpose of my visit this morning is twofold. Firstly, it is to assure myself that your sister is well. And secondly..." he paused for a moment, looking directly into her eyes, "...it is to seek your consent to court you."
"My intentions are honorable," he assured her. "I want to win your love and eventually your hand."
Bingley took a breath, then looked down to the floor, uncertain if she would accept him, knowing that his future depended on what she would next say.
Jane was silent for a moment and appeared calm, but inside her heart leapt for joy. Mr. Bingley loved her and wanted to marry her. Who could have imagined such an ending to such a beginning? A prior conversation with Elizabeth suddenly came to mind, and she reflected on Elizabeth's opinion that she must marry only for reasons of the deepest love and affection. Jane knew that she loved Mr. Bingley.
Only for reasons of the deepest love and affection. Was that enough? Was that not what Elizabeth felt for Mr. Darcy and it had all ended in pain? This idea brought a distressing thought. Mr. Bingley was this man's friend, and very much influenced by him. Could she trust Mr. Bingley? Should she trust him?
Mr. Bingley was very unlike his friend, though. Whereas Mr. Darcy could mask his feelings, Mr. Bingley was very open and did not hesitate to share his thoughts and expose his emotions. In his whole countenance there was an expression of honesty and integrity. He was not a complicated man. His tastes were simple and his manners pleasing. Jane truly believed it was not within his power to be deceitful.
When his eyes finally met hers again, she said, "I welcome your attentions, Mr. Bingley, and you have my consent."
She smiled at the look of relief that washed over his face. At that moment he seemed so open, so vulnerable.
"Thank you, Miss Bennet." Bingley had never felt such feelings of joy as those that swept through him at her words. He loved her and now he would have a chance to win her heart.
Chapter 8
It was late in the afternoon before Darcy arrived at his London townhouse. He was grateful to escape the confines of the carriage, and being unable to move about, his agitation and upset had only increased. It was with the greatest sense of relief that he finally arrived at home.
His sister, Georgiana, heard his entrance from the music room and ran down to meet him in the entryway. Like her brother, she had dark hair and eyes, and was generally quiet and reserved. All reserve vanished with the return of her brother.
"Fitzwilliam," she cried, "welcome home! I was not expecting you so soon. Why did you not write to let me know you were coming?" asked Georgiana. She reached up to kiss his cheek.
"Urgent business called me back," said Darcy, returning her kiss. His conscience was offended by this little falsehood, and he turned away from her.
"I hope that your business can be concluded to your satisfaction quickly and that we will be able to spend some time together, my brother." She danced around him, relieving him of his coat and seating him by the fire.
"Thank you, I will try. How have you been, Sister? How are your studies?" he asked. Although he expressed a desire to see Georgiana as pretence for leaving Netherfield, he was genuinely happy to see her.
"I am enjoying my new music master, Mr. Henry, very much. He says I am making great progress on the pianoforte and every day I become more comfortable sight reading new music. Mr. Gladstone is also pleased. He says I learn quickly. Mrs. Annesley undertakes the rest of my education. I am struggling with French, but I am certain I shall master it one day or other," said Georgiana proudly. She wanted to please her brother and knew that her studies were important to him. Despite her own willingness to learn, that in itself was reason enough to excel.
"I am pleased to hear it," he said. "Is there any way in which I might assist you, Georgiana? Is there anything I can do, is there anything you need?" He felt that if he could keep the conversation directed towards his sister, perhaps she would not notice his own distress. He felt nervous and distracted and did not want to talk about himself.
"No, I thank you. I am content with my situation, but please tell me, if you will, about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the young woman whom you mentioned in your last letter." This had been Georgiana's first thought when she found her brother had returned, but she knew it would not be proper to admit to her curiosity about the lady right away.
Darcy winced at the mention of her name. "There is not much to say, at least not anymore."
"Not anymore? Fitzwilliam, please tell me what happened," she asked. It was unusual for her brother to confide in her, and what he had said of Miss Bennet in his last letter astonished her. The idea that he might be in love was a welcome one to her, and knowing her brother as she did, there was no doubt in her mind that any woman to whom he would attach himself would be someone that she could also love.
"Very well," he sighed as the memory of Elizabeth sitting by the stream came to his mind. "Miss Bennet is a beautiful young woman of about twenty years of age. I enjoy her conversation and the tender affection she has for me. Unfortunately, I feel the same way towards her." It was an injustice to describe all he felt and all she must feel in only three sentences, but he could not tell Georgiana, he could not tell anyone, all that had happened.
A puzzled look crossed Georgiana's face. "Unfortunately?"
"My concern is that I cannot marry her, so I have departed from Netherfield, yet my heart aches for her." Darcy instantly regretted making that statement. He was pained, and admitting it only increased his discomfort. He wanted no confidante with whom to share the burden of his broken heart or to whom he might confess his folly in the whole situation.
Situation, he repeated to himself. How could the tender feelings and unconditional love of Elizabeth Bennet be reduced to such a cold, impersonal word?
"Why cannot you marry her? You obviously love her, which is something you have never done before," observed Georgiana. There would be things about her brother that she would never understand.
"And why do you think I love her, Miss Darcy?" he asked formally, disconcerted at her penetration. He would have to remember in future not to underestimate her knowledge of his character.
"Because, sir," said Georgiana, "you would never have told me about her if you did not. You never tell me anything about how or what you feel, so I know it would take something of great moment for you to be as open with me as you were in that letter."
"Of course," he admitted softly, "you are correct."
"Then why cannot you marry her? Does she not return your love?" she asked.
Georgiana had never met a young woman who did not believe herself to be in love with her brother, and while she doubted such shallow feelings in Miss Bennet, she felt it would be impossible for her not to return the affections of her brother.
"Miss Bennet has no dowry and no connections..." Surely, Georgiana would understand.
"I do not understand. If you love her..."
"... and because of this, she does not meet the expectations of society as a suitable wife for the master of Pemberley. It would be an unequal alliance and would be damaging to your own marriage prospects. Our father warned me against such matches. Our own cousin..." He could not say more.
Georgiana paused. She had been young when her father died, and so knew nothing herself of his opinion of the matter, but to deny love for reasons of money seemed incomprehensible to her.
"You once told me, on an occasion when you were not hiding your feelings," she said quietly, "that you wished to be loved for who you are and not what you have." A sense of urgency entered her voice. "Yet you insist on marrying someone who does have wealth and property." Her voice became louder, and accusingly, she said, "You insist on marrying someone for what she has, not who she is? Are you not rich enough, Brother?" Georgiana was nearly shouting at him. "Does fortune and consequence bring you that much pleasure that you would turn your back on a woman that you so fully love?"
Darcy stared at her, barely able to remain seated, scarcely able to understand her words. He should be angry with Georgiana, he knew, for speaking to him in such a manner, yet he could not. She was turning his own words against him, and doing so with sharp clarity. His convictions began to waver under such an attack.
Contemptuously, she added, "Marry for reasons of love and for no other consideration."
Darcy started, recalling when he had last heard similar words, and by whom they had been spoken.
Georgiana stood and stepped away from him. She had never spoken to him thus in her life, and was now uncertain from whence this passion sprang. Darcy rose to his feet, unable to utter a word.
In a more controlled manner, she continued. "That is what is unequal about your attachment to her, not whether she has a dowry. If you truly loved her, those things should not make a difference."
A distressing thought sent a chill through her body.
"Does this mean I am expected to marry into money and prestige to uphold the Darcy name, whether I am in love or not?"
A look of horror crossed her features, and for an instant, she stared at him with a disbelieving expression on her face. Unwilling to stay another moment with him, uncertain as to how she should feel or what she should say, she began to turn as if to leave the room.
Suddenly she felt herself being pulled back. Darcy had grasped her arm to keep her from departing. "Georgiana, I am sorry."
She gave him an angry look. "No, you are not sorry! If you were, you would return to her at once!"
With a heart heavy with feelings of compassion for Miss Bennet, she asked him, "On what terms did you leave her?"
"I left without seeing her," he confessed, now ashamed at his own cowardice.
She could tell from the expression on his face that he was begging her to understand him, to feel compassion for him, but she could not.
"Fitzwilliam, how could you be so cruel?" With that, she pulled her arm free and ran from the room.
Jane rejoiced in her new understanding with Mr. Bingley. He was the answer to every hope she ever had for happiness. She could feel the depth his affection and knew that their happiness together would be assured. She felt, though, that there was much about him that she still wished to know, and as they were at leisure and enjoying some privacy in the drawing room, she determined to ask him.
"Mr. Bingley," she said, "please tell me about your family."
He smiled at her. She must have read his thoughts, for he had desired to do just that, to answer any questions she might have concerning him.
"I have two sisters," said Mr. Bingley. "You have met Caroline, I believe. I have another sister, Louisa, who is the wife of Mr. Hurst, another acquaintance from school who live in town. Both my parents have passed away."
"I am sorry, Mr. Bingley," said Jane. "My..."
"I loved my mother very much," he said, interrupting her, "for she was all understanding and kindness. I wish I could say the same for my father. He was not fond of children. We were an inconvenience to him, I think. He expected us to be his equals and to behave, from our youth, in a way foreign to children. He wished us to look and carry on like adults. I am afraid I disappointed him."
Jane looked at him tenderly and touched his hand for a moment, encouraging him and letting him know he could trust her with the feelings of his heart.
Bingley received her assurances with a smile, and continued. "He acquired a large fortune from trade and it had been his desire to retire to an estate in the country, but he died before he could fulfill his dream. I had mixed feelings at his death. Part of me was relieved that I no longer had to live up to his expectations, and part of me felt guilty for feeling so. The only pain that I did experience was remorse for not having been on better terms with him. I hope to be a better father to my children."
"I am so sorry," said Jane.
She felt her ire rising against his dead father. Knowing the kind of man that Mr. Bingley was, how could she be tolerant or patient with a father who did not love such a deserving son?
"My mother died shortly thereafter, just as I became of age. The North held too much pain for me, so I set my sights on town."
"How did you like London?" she asked.
"I found that while London was agreeable, I did not enjoy spending all my time in town. So, by chance, hearing that Netherfield was available, I came and looked into it. I think it took me just a half hour to come to an agreement with Mr. Morris," he laughed. "I feel better now than I have in a long time. The country agrees with me very well."
His laughter was refreshing to Jane who felt herself grow more in love with him with each passing moment.
He opened his hand to her and looked deep into her eyes. She reached up, hesitated for a moment, and then placed her hand in his.
"What about you, Miss Bennet?" he asked.
The smile faded from her lips and she grew more somber.
"You already know a great deal about my family, but there is one person I have never mentioned to you before. My father was a kind man. He died three years ago from a sudden illness. It was horrible. I shall never forget that evening. I think that Lizzy was most affected by his passing. She was his favorite and they spent hours together talking and debating over books. I was surprised when he left Longbourn to me. It should have been hers."
"Running the estate has been difficult for me. The men resent receiving directions from a young woman such as myself, so I often have to be content with work that is delayed or not satisfactory. I have one tenant that is refusing to pay the rents. He says I must make improvements to his dwelling, yet it does not require any improvements. I am sometimes at a loss as to what to do," said Jane, happy to have a confidante who would understand her troubles, and very happy that this person was Mr. Bingley.
He knew he could help her with that problem, and with every other trouble in her life, if she would agree to marry him. Someday soon, he hoped, the moment to make his proposal would arrive. In the meantime, he would give her the time she needed to know all about him. He had already made his decision about her.
Bingley was pacing in front of an upper floor window awaiting the arrival of the Bennet family. They were to dine and then spend the evening at Netherfield. Caroline was out for the evening, so he would be left alone with the family, which suited his purpose nicely. He wanted to display for the Bennets all his civility and happy manners, and obtain the regard and affection of the whole family, as he pursued his desire of one day joining it.
Finally, the carriage arrived and he saw Jane alight first and the others follow. He ran down to greet his guests. A servant had opened the door to the family and he met them in the entryway.
"Welcome to Netherfield," said Bingley to all the Bennet family. "I am so pleased that you could come. I know we shall have a pleasant evening together."
Jane stepped forward and addressed herself to Mr. Bingley.
"Mr. Bingley, these are two of my sisters whom you have not met, Catherine and Lydia. And you know my mother and Mary." Jane was pleased to be able to introduce him to the rest of her family. She knew they would all like Mr. Bingley
"You are all very welcome," he repeated. Then addressing himself to Jane, he asked, "And Miss Elizabeth?"
"She did not feel well enough to come, Mr. Bingley. I beg that you will excuse her."
Jane had hoped to persuade Elizabeth to join them tonight, for she wanted her to know more of Mr. Bingley, but Elizabeth refused to come along, saying she was not feeling well. When Jane offered to send for Mr. Manning, she adamantly objected, saying she would remain in her room. Jane knew this had nothing to do with the health of her body, but spoke of the confusion of her mind and the pain of her heart. Jane's mood darkened for a moment as she was reminded of Mr. Darcy, but she conquered the feelings, refusing to let them intrude on her time with Mr. Bingley. To be honest, she was not completely comfortable leaving Elizabeth alone, and for just a moment had considered staying behind with her, but that thought was erased as she remembered that she was the reason for Mr. Bingley's invitation.
"Ah, I am sorry," he said. "Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to her."
Bingley offered Jane his arm and led her through the hall towards the drawing room. The rest of the family followed behind.
"You are very kind, Mr. Bingley. May I inquire after your friend, Mr. Darcy?" She knew this would be an uncomfortable moment, but also knew that his name must come up between them.
Bingley gave her a knowing glance. "I have not heard from him since he left." He stopped their progress and turned to face her. "Miss Bennet, you must allow me to apologize for his behavior."
"I cannot allow that, Mr. Bingley. You are not responsible for his actions," said Jane. She brushed her fingers along his arm to punctuate her assertion.
He felt all the power of her touch, and cherished the intimacy of that moment. Recalling himself, he said, "He was a guest in my home, Miss Bennet. I cannot excuse him or his insult to your sister."
"I hope that Elizabeth will soon forget about him. He did touch her heart, though," Jane said thoughtfully. It was time to change the subject to one less dangerous. "Mr. Bingley, thank you so much for inviting us this evening. Sir," she said with an intimate whisper, "you have made me very happy."
He took her hand and briefly held it, then tucked it under his arm and again led the way to the drawing room. Jane thrilled at the feel of his skin on hers, however fleeting.
Once in the drawing room, it was necessary that Mr. Bingley share his attention with the whole family.
"Mrs. Bennet," he said, "I am so pleased to have you and your family here at Netherfield with me. Thank you for accepting my invitation."
"We are grateful to you for your kindness," said Mrs. Bennet as she greedily cast her eyes around the room. "You have fitted this room up so nicely, Mr. Bingley." She walked towards one wall. "It has been many years since I have been here. Wherever did you get this wall hanging?"
He stepped next to her. "It is a gift from my sister, Mrs. Hurst. It seemed like it would fit well on that wall. The image is of the valley surrounding the small town in which I grew up, a place of no consequence in the far north," explained Bingley while pointing to different aspects of the hanging.
"I have never seen anything so delightful, Mr. Bingley." Mrs. Bennet had a questioning look on her face as she turned to Mr. Bingley. "Is not Mr. Darcy here tonight?" she asked. She still had four other daughters, all unmarried, having marked Bingley out for Jane.
"No, ma'am, he left for London earlier this week. He had business there and wanted to visit his sister." Jane could see a momentary look of confusion suffuse his face. It was then apparent to her that Mr. Bingley was uncomfortable with any discussion of his friend, and she also concluded that Mr. Darcy had neither business in town nor a special desire to see his sister.
"He is quite handsome, Mr. Bingley. I do hope he will soon return," said Mrs. Bennet. Walking towards a window, she decided to press Mr. Bingley for more information about Mr. Darcy. "I hear he has a large estate."
Bingley felt that it was still possible that Jane would blame him for Darcy's behavior, and he wanted nothing said which might remind her of that event. With a strained voice that testified of his discomposure, he replied, "He does, ma'am, a very magnificent place called Pemberley."
"Did he see much of Lizzy while she was here?" asked Mrs. Bennet. Perhaps this was a possible match. Mr. Darcy may be a little too old for her other girls. Mrs. Bennet had no hope at all for Mary.
Jane did not know what to say to stop her mother from pursuing the matter of Mr. Darcy further. She could tell that Mr. Bingley was growing discomfited. He must know that she would not have mentioned the relationship between Lizzy and Mr. Darcy to her mother, therefore Mrs. Bennet's questions could not be construed as anything other than impertinent curiosity.
"I do not know that..."
Jane interrupted. "Mr. Bingley, how do you like Meryton?"
Relieved at the interruption, he said cheerfully, "I passed through town only once in my carriage. I get out but little. However, Mrs. Thomas, my housekeeper, reports to me that it is a delightful place. Do you often go into Meryton?" He moved perceptibly closer to Miss Bennet. His motion was not noticed by anyone but her, and she acknowledged it with a faint smile.
"Yes," said Jane, "we have an aunt who lives there, so my sisters walk into town twice or three times a week to visit her. I go as I am able."
"That must be pleasing to you to have relations living so close. My father was an only child, as was my mother, so I have no aunts or uncles," said Bingley. He noticed a slight blush on her face every time he addressed her. He knew it was all for him.
"Well, sir, perhaps you could join us on a visit to her sometime or other. We would be happy to share our aunt with you." Jane teased. Mr. Bingley's face lit up with a smile.
"I would be very happy to join you, Miss Bennet." Bingley felt gratified by her invitation. He was grateful for every sign of regard on her part.
Mr. Bingley was not always a confident man. He lived in the shadow of the dominant Mr. Darcy as well as his own formidable sister. This bold step of reaching an understanding with Miss Bennet without the knowledge and blessing of either, was out of character for him, yet he would fight against the world to have Jane Bennet.
Mrs. Thomas walked into the room and announced that dinner was ready. Bingley escorted Mrs. Bennet to the dining room, then seated himself next to Jane. He was entranced by Jane's beauty, grace and elegance. He could not keep his eyes off her. Throughout dinner, she shared knowing glances and smiles with Bingley. As for the gentleman, he could not describe his good fortune. He was tempted to throw himself at her feet and propose to her at that very minute. Not now, he told himself, but soon. Very soon.
The days passed slowly for Darcy, and his peace of mind was disturbed during those times he spent in conversation with Georgiana when he thought and talked of Elizabeth Bennet. Georgiana's interest in Miss Elizabeth was inexhaustible and she coaxed him into sharing information about her. This was not the easiest thing, for as many times as he would freely talk of Miss Bennet, he would also sit quietly and repel her inquiries. However, in just a few short days, she knew as much as her brother did about the facts of Miss Bennet's life and was able to sense, as only a woman can, the level of affection she held for her brother. Georgiana observed that her brother had changed as a result of his relationship with Miss Elizabeth. He seemed to be gentler and more affectionate towards her and she was pleased with the change. She remained frustrated, however, that her brother had chosen not to pursue his relationship with Miss Bennet.
Alone one evening in his library, Darcy poured himself a drink and allowed his thoughts to wander. Inevitably, these moments were not pleasurable.
The longer he was separated from Elizabeth, the more his mind was drawn back to the time he had spent with her. He remembered holding her hand while painfully relating the story of his parents' deaths. She was so soft and gentle, kind and compassionate. She seemed unconcerned by his wealth and position in society. Her only interest lay in him as a person, and that interest had grown more intense as time went on. He knew that he returned her love. She possessed all those attributes he would wish for in a wife, yet he had left her, and had done so without saying a word. How she must despise him! How her sister, Miss Bennet, must despise him!
Darcy took another swallow of the brandy he was nursing. Though he and left her, he felt Elizabeth's loss exceedingly. He called it a loss because she was lost to him. Although he wanted her desperately, he knew that any alliance between them was doomed. Her lowly relations would cause him embarrassment and would ultimately ruin Georgiana's chances for attracting the kind of man who would maker her a proper husband.
He set his drink down and moved to his desk, upon which were two letters, one from his steward at Pemberley and another from an acquaintance, Mr. Tilden. The latter missive was an invitation to a small dinner party the next evening in honor of his daughter, Miss Clara Tilden. She was accomplished, young and beautiful, and had a fortune of twenty five thousand pounds.
Darcy had known Miss Tilden since her coming out ball two seasons ago. She was pleasant enough, though she spent too much time trying to please. Darcy wished that Elizabeth had been blessed with such importance, then it would have been an equal match, and his father would have approved. But with these thoughts Georgiana's words came back to him. Was he interested in Elizabeth, or were property, social position and family connections his main concern?
Having accepted the Tilden's invitation, Darcy waited impatiently for the party. He intended to arrive before any of the other guests in the hopes of spending some time alone in conversation with Miss Tilden. If he could just see something attractive in her countenance, wit or manner of speech, perhaps he could make himself believe that Elizabeth was not the only woman that he could ever love.
Chapter 9
Darcy arrived at the Tilden's home a half-hour early. A servant showed him into a sitting room where the family was waiting. They rose to greet him.
"Mr. Darcy, welcome, sir," said Mr. Tilden enthusiastically. "Please allow me introduce you to my daughter, Miss Clara Tilden."
Miss Tilden favored Darcy with a formal curtsy, and then fixed her eyes on his face. He answered her civility with a bow.
"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Tilden. Thank you for your kind invitation," Darcy responded. She was as lovely as ever. Her eyes were blue and her hair was a golden blonde, so very different from that of Elizabeth, who, though not as elegant, possessed even greater beauty, for she...
He recovered himself, but it was too late. His thoughts had drifted too far afield. Miss Tilden had spoken, but he had not heard her.
"I am sorry, Miss Tilden," he apologized. "I was momentarily distracted. You were saying?"
Darcy felt hot with embarrassment and was ashamed that his discomfiture was so generally noticed. Mr. Tilden eyed him with curiosity and Miss Tilden seemed somewhat offended by his rudeness. She paused for a moment, considered him with a frown and then spoke once again.
"I said it has been a long time since we met, Mr. Darcy."
"Indeed, it has," he responded.
"May I inquire after your sister?" She already knew his sister was well, for she had visited Miss Darcy the day before trying to learn something of Mr. Darcy's likes and dislikes. She was determined to exert all her charm and power of pleasing, and any additional knowledge she could gain of Mr. Darcy was very welcome.
"She is quite well, I thank you. And how are you, Miss Tilden?" asked Darcy.
"I am well," said Miss Tilden with a smile. "My father brought me to town about a month ago, and I have been busy renewing old acquaintances." She recited all the things she had done. "I have attended the theater and the opera. I have spent a Sunday afternoon in Kensington Gardens and have enjoyed many of the delights that society offers. My father insists that I be known to the world, though I would prefer to remain in the country." She said this for his benefit since she knew that Mr. Darcy had recently taken a great interest in country life.
Darcy did not believe this for a moment, and his mind wandered to Hertfordshire, where there was a young woman who did, indeed, enjoy the country. It had taken only the briefest moment for him to ascertain that Clara Tilden, for all her sophistication, would never possess the lively disposition or the unaffected charm of Elizabeth Bennet. The discovery was mortifying, for Miss Tilden was everything for which a gentleman might wish, everything of which his father have would approved.
"I prefer quiet and seclusion," she continued, "but if I had remained behind, I would not have had an opportunity to see you now." Miss Tilden was kind enough to blush.
"I, too, prefer the country to town, but this is where my sister resides and business does call me here from time to time." he said, ignoring the compliment. "How do you spend your time in the country?"
Elizabeth enjoyed nothing better than being out of doors. Although he knew she spent time in town with her aunt, he was relatively secure in the knowledge that she had never lived anywhere but at Longbourn. All she had ever known was the country and its simplicity, and he...
"...and paint in the morning when the sun first rises, giving an early light to the countryside," said Miss Tilden. "The grounds around Tilden Manor are beautiful."
Darcy's mind had once again traveled the distance to Longbourn, and with a start he was recalled to his conversation with Miss Tilden. She was in the middle of a speech, and he made every effort to appear attentive and interested in what she had to say.
"Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Tilden, "if you will follow me, I can show you examples of Clara's painting."
"Thank you. It would be a pleasure."
Darcy followed Mr. and Miss Tilden out of the room, giving him a chance to examine Miss Tilden's figure more closely. She was tall and slender with beautiful blonde hair pulled back in a braid that crowned her head. She moved gracefully and her figure was well formed. It was a delight to look at her. She spoke gently, and with respect and deference towards him. He recalled another woman, though, that had not treated him with such deference, but considered him to be her equal. Perhaps his opinion of Miss Tilden would improve once he knew her better, but then, Elizabeth had not required any improvement whatsoever. From the beginning of his relationship with Elizabeth, he had found her enchanting. No part of his feelings for her had to be learned.
Darcy admired Miss Tilden's art, much to the lady's satisfaction. He was willing to confess that she painted well. Her father was quite obviously proud of her achievements, and really, he deserved to be. Her landscapes were exquisite. His mind was drawn to thoughts of another young woman who did not draw or paint, but who seemed to be gifted in the art of loving and caring for others, an accomplishment, he wondered, if Miss Tilden possessed.
After examining Miss Tilden's art, they returned to the drawing room, where Miss Tilden began the conversation.
"Please tell me about your home, Mr. Darcy," she asked. She had heard of Pemberley, of course, there were few that had not. She hoped it was a topic of interest to Mr. Darcy so that she could continue to engage his conversation towards herself.
"Pemberley is the name of my estate in Derbyshire. It was built in 1627. The central section was attacked by Cromwell's men, but it has been rebuilt in the same style, though perhaps not as well. It has a stream, a lake, and extensive grounds and the tenants are all pleasant fellows. I have recently refinished a room for my sister, which she will see when she returns to Pemberley after the spring. It is to be a surprise for her." He laughed. "I have never had to worry about new furniture before. The place certainly lacks a woman's touch."
"I am sure your sister will be pleased with what you have done for her," she said sweetly. "You have always been an attentive brother." Miss Tilden hoped she would be the woman that would add a feminine touch to Mr. Darcy's home.
Being an only child, Miss Tilden had no experience with the love and affection of a brother or sister, and could only imagine the feelings Mr. Darcy must have for his sister. Miss Darcy wanted for nothing and she was certain that it was Mr. Darcy who ensured her comfort. There was little she would not give, she thought, to secure the attention and affection for herself of such a generous man as Mr. Darcy.
Darcy smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in his waistcoat. "Now you must tell me about your home," he said, desiring that the conversation be turned to a less personal subject.
"Tilden Manor is not as grand as Pemberley, I am certain, but I dearly love it. My grandfather had it built during his generation, and removed his family to it upon its completion. I am certain that it lacks the dignity of such a place as Pemberley with all its history, but it is beautiful. There are several natural streams on the manor, which are well stocked with trout, and the library is superior to any I know. My father is always buying books," she said with obvious pride.
Darcy had no doubt that if the streams were not stocked with fish and the library not filled with books, all it would take would be a little interest from him and they certainly would be.
"How long will you remain in London?" asked Darcy.
"I will remain in town for the next few months. My father has some business to transact. He has enclosed the commons around Tilden Manor, and is going to make agreements with new and current tenants and wants his solicitor to prepare the documents," she said. "He is also in negotiations for a small farm near Tilden Manor to which his old steward, a longtime friend of the family, will retire."
"You seem to be conversant in the issues surrounding Tilden Manor," commented Darcy.
"Well, it is to be my home someday," said Miss Tilden, "so I feel it is important to know what is going on, and my father quite agrees."
"He is quite right. Of course, when you marry, your husband can assume those duties," suggested Darcy.
"Yes," she smiled at him, "he will."
The next morning, Darcy was reading the newspaper over tea when he was accosted by his sister who was full of curiosity as to how his evening had passed. She took a seat opposite to him, where he was in her full view and began to examine him.
"Did you enjoy your dinner party with the Tildens, Fitzwilliam?" asked Georgiana, looking at him with a pointed expression.
There was no question in her mind that Mr. and Miss Tilden were hoping for an alliance with the Darcys. From what Georgiana knew of Miss Tilden, she was certain that her brother could never love her. She was convinced, though, that he was in love with Miss Bennet, and so felt no qualms in warning her brother about the intentions of the Tildens. Her brother was a troubled man and she suddenly felt a need to protect him.
"It was pleasant enough," he said over his newspaper, and then added, "Thank you for asking."
Glancing up, he met Georgiana's eyes and felt himself grow uncomfortable under her steady gaze, and when she asked how he found Miss Tilden's company, he avoided her eyes when he responded.
"She is a pleasing young woman."
Georgiana frowned for a moment when she realized their opinion of Miss Tilden did not coincide.
"I am sure you had ample opportunity to converse with her. Of what did you speak?" asked Georgiana.
He hesitated for a moment, uncertain how to answer. "She told me about her home and of her stay in London. Like myself, she enjoys the quiet and seclusion of the country," said Darcy. To own the truth, he did not have an extensive recollection as to their topics of conversation.
"Miss Tilden called on me recently, you should know," said Georgiana, "and asked me many questions, all of which concerned you. In my opinion, my dear brother, she is courting you."
She paused for a moment to gather up her courage. "How would you feel about a match with Miss Tilden?"
Darcy pondered the question for a moment, then coolly responded. "I am not certain this is a conversation I would like to have with my sister," he said. "But if you must know, she is an accomplished woman blessed with many advantages. The man who marries her should consider himself fortunate."
"In other words, she is everything Miss Bennet is not, except for the fact that you do not love Miss Tilden and you do love Miss Bennet," she cried.
"Perhaps you should return to your studies, Georgiana," he said angrily. His lips had not closed before he regretted his words, but it was too late, she had fled the room.
It was not long after her family had departed for dinner with Mr. Bingley that Elizabeth realized that she did not wish to be alone. She was disgusted with what she felt was her weakness in refusing to go to Netherfield, but she could not bear to enter that house again and be surrounded by his memory. It would be too much for her.
Why he had left her she could not tell. Why would he leave just when she had opened her heart to him? He had kissed her and somehow she felt violated. She loved him and the pain of his leaving her without a word, without a farewell, after all they had shared, hurt deeply.
Maybe it was better that she was alone. She could cry undisturbed.
It was such a contradiction to be back in Hertfordshire, thought Darcy. He had left to get away from Elizabeth, to free his heart from the hold she had over him, and now he was back. To be honest, he could not resist the opportunity to be near her. If he could just see her and know he was not important to her, to know she did not care, then perhaps his spirit could find peace. But this was a vain hope, for she did care, he knew, and he could not help but love her. Nevertheless, he had accepted Bingley's invitation to return to Netherfield.
Bingley had pressed urgently for his return. He felt that Darcy had been unjust to both himself and Elizabeth when he strove to leave Netherfield that day without a word. While Darcy's concerns with Elizabeth may be none of his business Bingley had determined that Darcy and he had shared years of friendship together. Rather than allow a slight to injure their relationship, Bingley had issued Darcy an invitation to return immediately to Netherfield and for the sake of their friendship, that summons could not be ignored.
The carriage ride seemed interminable. The usual sounds and motions of a traveling carriage to which he had become inured with practice, seemed to overwhelm his patience. He could neither read, nor sleep, nor entertain himself with pleasant thoughts. All that remained for him was to be miserable.
The carriage pulled up in front of the house and Darcy was immediately welcomed by Bingley, who had been awaiting his return.
"Darcy, you are here! Welcome!" Bingley was happy to see his friend and greeted him with a little more enthusiasm that Darcy would have liked.
"Thank you, Bingley," was all Darcy could say, and that in a glum voice. He felt exhausted and was not equal to his friend's energetic welcome.
"How was your trip?" he asked, patting Darcy on the back. He flinched under Bingley's firm hand.
"It was much more tiresome than I remember," Darcy curtly. "I am glad to be out of the carriage."
As they turned together and walked into the house, Bingley decided that Darcy's ill humor could be attributed to being weary from traveling.
"I will have your things carried to your room," offered Bingley. "Perhaps you would like to rest a bit after your journey."
"Yes, thank you, Bingley," said Darcy, relieved at the prospect of quiet and solitude to gather his thoughts and tame the chaos in his mind.
As Darcy walked up the staircase, he remembered the other passages up these same stairs he had made to see Elizabeth. Now it seemed to take forever to reach the top. Instead of going to his bedchamber, he walked to her old room, opened the door, stepped in and took his usual place in the chair next to her bed. In his mind, he could envision her lying there unconscious. He remembered talking to her as she slept, not knowing when or if she would wake up. He had been captivated by the fullness of her lips and recalled how her dark hair fell down around her face. He could see her hands clasped together, and remembered his relief when he learned she had finally awakened. The laughing sound of her voice and the soft touch of her fingers would be forever in his memory. In that short time with her, he had learned what it was to love, and to be loved.
Bingley anticipated with pleasure sharing with Darcy the news of his understanding with Miss Bennet, and unable to wait any longer, he went upstairs in search of him. Bingley did not find him in his room, however, and after the pause of a moment, acted on a suspicion and walked down the hall towards Miss Elizabeth's former bedchamber. He looked in to see Darcy sitting by the bed, deep in thought.
"Darcy, do you wish to have your things moved to this room?"
He was startled to hear Bingley's voice. "No. I..." There was an uncomfortable hesitation, a feeling of uncertainty. "I thank you, no." Darcy rose and walked past Bingley and down the hall to his usual room.
Bingley watched Darcy's retreating form for a moment, then turned to the object of Darcy's attention, Miss Elizabeth's bed. Knowing full well Darcy's feelings for her, he could not say he was surprised to have found Darcy in her room. Despite his absence, it was clear to him that Darcy's feelings for her were unabated.
Bingley decided he would inform Darcy of his new understanding with Miss Bennet at a later time.
After changing his clothes and writing a note to Georgiana announcing his safe arrival in Hertfordshire, Darcy went downstairs in search of Bingley. He discovered him in the library reading a letter. Bingley heard him enter the room and was the first to speak.
"Please sit down, Darcy, and tell me how are you feeling," invited Bingley as he folded the missive. "You do not appear to be well."
If Bingley had to describe Darcy, he would call him stricken. Darcy was not a man given to mirth, and what liveliness he had displayed in the recent past seemed to have given way to a depression of spirits. He was a man in distress.
"I am tired, that is all. The trip seemed to be particularly trying this time," answered Darcy. He collapsed into a chair opposite Bingley.
"And why is that?" asked Bingley. Darcy was acting strangely. Traveling had never been an inconvenience to him in the past.
"My mind is not at peace, Bingley, and I am uncertain as to what to do about it."
Darcy paused for a moment and regretted his decision to confess so much, and wishing to speak of anything other than himself, he soon added, "But I do not wish to talk of that now. How are you? Are you well? I have missed you, my friend."
Bingley doubted the sincerity of this application. He knew his friend was always uncomfortable in any discussion that concerned him, and today he seemed more agitated than usual.
"Darcy, is there anything I can do to help ease your mind?" Bingley felt certain that his discomfort centered around Miss Elizabeth, but he did not feel as though he could broach the subject unless Darcy opened with it.
"I think not," he replied in a distracted manner.
"Please remember," said Bingley, "that I am always at your disposal. You know you may come to me with whatever concerns you."
Darcy's eye met his with an expression of pain. Bingley knew his friend was suffering. Darcy withdrew his eyes, and they continued sitting in silence until Bingley spoke.
"I have something to tell you," said Bingley.
Despite his own pleasure with the prospect, Bingley knew his friend might be uneasy about his decision to court Jane Bennet. He had not known her long and he suspected that Darcy might consider Bingley's acquaintance with Miss Bennet insufficient to support such an action.
"What is it, Bingley? What is your news?" Darcy picked up a newspaper from a table and began to peruse the first page.
Bingley had to confess to annoyance at his friend's apparent lack of interest in what he had to say. A brief remembrance of Jane, however, restored his composure.
"I have asked," Bingley announced, "and received permission, to court Miss Jane Bennet."
The room became silent and Darcy returned the newspaper to the table. His immediate feeling of surprise lessened as he realized that Bingley had been considering himself in love with Miss Bennet ever since he met her.
"Bingley, I do not know what to say." In truth, he could think of many things to say, but none would express opinions that Bingley would want to hear.
"You do not have to say anything, if you do not wish," said Bingley. "Just be happy for me. I love her, Darcy."
Bingley loved Miss Bennet as he had never loved anyone. As he considered this thought for the briefest moment, he knew he had never been in love before, and that all his prior attachments were nothing more than passing fancies brought on by a pretty smile and a pleasant disposition. This was more. He had never approached life with such anticipation, he had never felt more satisfied than when he was with her, and he knew beyond a doubt that she cared for him as well, that his feelings were returned. Very soon, he hoped, they would be forever united.
Darcy could not let his statement go unchallenged. "But do you know her well enough to take such a bold step?" His conscience was pricked, however, when it occurred to him that it had been his desire to take just such a step with Elizabeth.
"I saw much of her while Miss Elizabeth was here, and even more since you left, and I am certain of my feelings for her," said Bingley. He felt a little suspicious of Darcy's motives and sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.
After a deep breath, Darcy continued. "You have known her less than a month, Bingley." Darcy arose and began to pace the floor.
"Yes, and by securing her consent to court her," said Bingley, "I can seek to know her more fully and in an open manner, above speculation and public examination. I will not hide my intentions. If she refuses me later, then so be it, but I shall not lose the opportunity to win her hand."
"Are you certain you are making a wise decision? What did your sisters say?" asked Darcy. He knew full well what Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would say. The Bennets were not possessed of a good fortune, they were crass and common and subsequently did not move in the highest circles of society.
"I did not consult with them," said Bingley firmly. "They will not approve my choice, but that is nothing to me. I am seeking my own happiness and that of Miss Bennet."
"Why do you not think they would approve of Miss Bennet? She seems pleasant enough," said Darcy. He would use Bingley's sisters as means to getting his own feelings across.
"They do not believe the Bennets are fashionable, or rich, and they despise their connections." Bingley thought that these reasons were ludicrous.
Darcy continued his walk up and down the room. "There is truth to what they will say, Bingley. Do you not think it worth considering?"
"What is that to me? I love Miss Bennet and I want to be with her." Bingley was growing more upset with every passing moment, and Darcy's incessant pacing of the room was irritating.
"A man in your position, Bingley, should have no problem finding a wife who is the daughter of a wealthy, landed gentleman who can provide you with a proper dowry and heir. That kind of marriage will take away once and for all any doubts others may have about you being a gentleman."
Darcy eyed Bingley carefully, not knowing how far he dare press the point with his friend. He knew Bingley was much less concerned with appearances than he.
He continued. "The stigma of having acquired your wealth through trade will be gone forever. Your income will increase and you will be able to move easily in society, respected by those whom you will call your peers."
Darcy spoke deliberately, not wanting to raise Bingley's ire, but hoping to persuade him that his choice was not advantageous. It was a relief to Darcy to speak openly of his objections. If he could convince Bingley that Miss Bennet was not worthy of his love and affection, maybe he could be more reconciled with his belief that Elizabeth was not an appropriate match for him, since his arguments against a match between Miss Bennet and Bingley were even more pronounced in his own case.
"But, Darcy, Miss Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman, and though she has no dowry, she does have an estate. We will immediately have property to give to an heir," said Bingley defensively.
"Perhaps," said Darcy, returning to his seat, "but the estate is a poor one, and it comes with four unmarried daughters and an unpleasant widow that would immediately become your responsibility. On your marriage it would become your estate, but do you really think Miss Bennet would turn out her mother and sisters? They will be with you forever. There will be no place for a son to inherit for many years. The two youngest daughters are quite ill-mannered. Their marriage prospects are extremely low. Do you really want to have the care of them for the rest of your life should they live to be old women?"
"Darcy! You are heartless!" cried Bingley. "No, I do not expect that Miss Bennet would turn out her own family nor would I ask it of her. I am happy to care for them as long as they require it. The daughters will come into one thousand pounds each on the death of their mother. They are not that poor," said Bingley. Why did he feel the need to try to talk his friend into supporting his decision?
"Think about it, Bingley. It is wrong!"
"Darcy!"
Bingley was cut to the heart. Darcy's arguments were superficial, and he had never before considered his friend to be so shallow. Bingley had come to love all the Bennets. The income from Longbourn would continue to support the family, so that he would not be out a three-pence, but none of that mattered, really, for he would do anything to have Jane and would marry her if she had nothing at all.
With a look of hurt and dismay directed towards his friend, Bingley left the room
.
Chapter 10
Bingley retired to the privacy of his dressing room where his thoughts turned to Miss Bennet. He reflected with pleasure on the time he spent with her at the Meryton assembly. He easily concluded that he would like to give a ball at Netherfield, and while it would offer entertainment for everyone invited, the sole purpose of the evening would be to provide more opportunities for him to be with Miss Bennet. He longed to dance with her again. Such a ball would establish them as a couple in Meryton society, and it would give Darcy a chance to see how lovely she truly was. Every grace that a woman possesses is enhanced as she moves down the dance, and Darcy would be forced to admit that he was wrong about Miss Bennet.
Bingley smiled at the thought of dancing with Jane in Darcy's presence. Darcy would be put on notice that he had made up his own mind about Miss Bennet and that he had chosen her, in spite of Darcy's objections.
Happy with this decision, Bingley sought out his housekeeper.
"Mrs. Thomas," said Bingley when he discovered her in the drawing room, "I would like to give a ball here at Netherfield and I will need your help."
"When would you care to hold it, sir?" smiled Mrs. Thomas. Her thoughts went immediately to Miss Bennet, and she was fairly certain she was the inspiration for the request.
"Tuesday week," stated Bingley, after a moment's pause.
"I am certain that you would not care to be bothered with all the mundane tasks and activities associated with planning a ball, therefore, please leave everything to me, sir. I will consult with you when decisions need to be made," said Mrs. Thomas.
"I cannot imagine knowing the correct answer to any question you may have. I leave it all in your hands and trust your judgment," said Bingley with a smile.
"Shall I send round your invitations?" she asked.
"Thank you, yes, though I will deliver one myself, to the Longbourn family."
Mrs. Thomas smiled at him and said, "Very good, Mr. Bingley."
They parted, she to her duties and he to the stables, where he requested that a horse be saddled. He was soon off to Longbourn to deliver his most important invitation.
The ride was pleasant, the air refreshing and birds and animals abounded on the road to Longbourn. Having told him of his plans, Bingley had invited Darcy to accompany him, but he refused, a circumstance that did not surprise him. Bingley was uncomfortable without Darcy's approval of his new relationship with Miss Bennet, for he had always relied on his advice on all important matters, and indeed this matter concerning Miss Bennet was very important.
He arrived at Longbourn in good time, and giving his horse to the groom, went up and knocked on the door.
"Hill! Who is at the door?" cried Mrs. Bennet.
"It is Mr. Bingley, ma'am. He desires to call on you and Miss Bennet."
The thought that he had come expressly to call upon Jane gave Mrs. Bennet a great deal of satisfaction.
Hill brought Bingley to the drawing room where all the Longbourn ladies were at their work. They stood on his entering the room.
"Mr. Bingley, you are very welcome," said Mrs. Bennet. He bowed to them and the ladies curtsied. "Do sit down, sir," she said, gesturing to a place on the sofa on which Jane was sitting. "We are very pleased that you have come."
"And I am happy to be here," he said as he sat down. "Well, how are you all?" And turning to Elizabeth, he said, "And Miss Elizabeth, I am pleased to hear of your improvement in health."
"Thank you, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth with a smile for Jane.
"We are well, sir," answered Jane.
Turning to Mrs. Bennet, he said, "The purpose of my visit is to issue an invitation to you and your daughters, ma'am. I am giving a ball at Netherfield and would be honored to have your company."
There was a general cry of approval amongst the ladies.
"Oh, Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet said enthusiastically, "we would all love to attend, I am sure. Jane, this is a particular compliment to you."
Bingley was a little confused as to the meaning of this remark. However, he did concede that it was the truth. If it were not for his devotion to Miss Bennet, there would be no ball.
Jane blushed in a becoming way, delighting Bingley. He glanced at her, caught her eye, and their glance held. At that moment, all the doubts that Darcy had inspired were removed. He loved her, and he would not give her up, not for anything that Darcy might say.
The ladies all expressed their pleasure with and acceptance of, the invitation. There was a great deal of talk about gowns and shoes, flowers and jewelry, none of which was important to Bingley. Only Jane mattered to him. She felt similarly disposed to Bingley and wished to spend some time with him alone, and consequently invited him to walk out in the garden with her.
"Yes, Jane," said Mrs. Bennet, seconding Jane's invitation, "show Mr. Bingley around the various walks. I am certain he will be pleased with the hermitage. The garden is so pleasant at this time of year."
Bingley stood, offered Jane his arm, and together they left the house. Elizabeth looked on with great pleasure.
Once outside, Mr. Bingley began the conversation.
"Miss Bennet, it is such a pleasure to see you."
"Mr. Bingley, the pleasure is mine, I assure you. Thank you for your kind invitation. You have made my sisters very happy." She looked up at him. "You have made me very happy."
"If you are not otherwise engaged," he said, "may I take this opportunity to ask you for the first two dances at the ball?"
"Mr. Bingley, I would be delighted," laughed Jane, drawing herself closer to him. He placed his hand over hers and had the pleasure of seeing her smile.
After walking a few paces in silence, Bingley decided to inform her of Darcy's return.
"There is something that you ought to know," said Bingley. "Mr. Darcy has returned to Netherfield, and, I am certain, will be at the ball."
Jane knew that Elizabeth was not prepared to see Mr. Darcy so soon, and could only answer, "Oh, my!"
Bingley was uncomfortable with her silence, and in an effort to encourage her to speak, asked about Miss Elizabeth.
"She is well," replied Jane, "though much more solemn and quiet. I am sorry to see it. She does not laugh as she used to," said Jane. "She has changed, Mr. Bingley, and not for the better."
Bingley felt pained to the soul. Hoping to hear more about her sister, he questioned Jane further.
"Does she talk to you about Darcy?" he asked. "Does she unburden her heart to you?"
Jane looked around her for a moment, considering what she should say.
"I do not wish to betray a confidence, sir," she finally said, "and so am not certain how to answer you."
Bingley led her to a bench near a tree where they sat down together.
"Please forgive the question," he quickly said. "I did not mean..."
"But I will say this, Mr. Bingley," she said, interrupting him, "that she is distraught. I think what troubles her most is that she felt he returned her affection."
Just the thought of what Elizabeth was suffering caused her resentment towards Mr. Darcy to grow warmer. Jane knew not how she could ever be in company with him in any tolerable state of composure. Never had she been angrier. She blamed herself for Elizabeth's hurt, second guessing every decision made by herself or the physician, all of which led to Elizabeth's remaining at Netherfield and under Mr. Darcy's influence.
Bingley shook his head, unable to fathom Darcy's actions. "Let me apologize again and again for his behavior, and please know that if I could change the past, as far as he is concerned, I would."
He gave her a conscious look, and she answered him with silence. With a squeeze of her hand he punctuated his next sentence.
"But I would not change one minute of the past as far as you are concerned."
All Jane could do was smile at him. Her heart was filled with gratitude for the affection that he made no effort to hide from her. She had complete confidence in him and gave him credit for every good quality that a man might possess. She would love him and cherish him and knew in turn that she would be loved. Indeed, she knew that she was already.
Jane anticipated the ball with impatience, as the weather had been particularly bad and there had been no opportunity for her to further her courtship with Mr. Bingley. It took all of Jane's calm mind and steady temper not to become frustrated with the rain. The day arrived at last, however, and before she knew it, she found herself in the carriage and on her way to Netherfield.
Darcy waited with nervous anticipation the arrival of the Bennet party. He sat at a window on an upper floor watching the carriages, viewing the various families entering the house and every minute hoping that he would see Elizabeth. He was determined to speak to her. She had every right to be bitter and angry, and he knew he deserved no special attention from her. He had been unwilling to speak of her to Bingley, and had, therefore, heard nothing of her since he left Hertfordshire. He was determined to discover her state of mind. Selfishly, he also wanted to learn, if he could, if she still held him in any regard, for the thought of being entirely rejected by her nearly overwhelmed him. Although able to leave Elizabeth for what he determined was for the best, he could not reconcile himself to being hated by her.
It was at that moment he realized that he did not belong in Hertfordshire.
As they approached the house, Jane expressed gratitude to her sister for accompanying her to the ball. She had been very concerned that Elizabeth would refuse to attend and hoped that this opportunity to be with her friends would lift her spirits.
"Lizzy, I am glad you agreed to come with us," said Jane. Elizabeth had taken her arm when they descended from the carriage, more for emotional than physical support.
"I did not have a choice," said Elizabeth. "I was ordered by Mama. She said I would never find a husband by sitting at home. Oh, Jane, if I could just make her understand that I do not want a husband."
"Oh, Lizzy."
"It is just that I thought Mr. Darcy cared for me. I know he did. What can I say to him or him to me if we meet tonight?" said Elizabeth. She felt the familiar ache begin to creep up into her heart.
"I do not know, Lizzy. You still care for him, do you not?" asked Jane. She knew the answer, for Elizabeth had told her many times.
"I did and I do. I have considered the matter carefully, Jane, and I love him," stated Elizabeth emphatically. "I will always love him."
"Lizzy, how can you say such things after he left you without a word?" asked Jane. They were at the top of the stairs now and Jane halted their progress until Elizabeth was done speaking. These words were not suited for curious ears.
"No man has ever made me feel the way he did. When we would talk together, he spoke to me neither as a subordinate nor a superior, but as a trusted friend whose thoughts he wished to know. I felt caressed by the sound of his voice and warmed by his touch. I love him, Jane. I will love him forever."
Elizabeth turned away from her and continued, "And if he does not want me, then there must be a reason. I know that I do not wish to live my life hoping that he will someday change his mind. But, Jane, he is all I desire, so I conclude that if I cannot have him, I do not want another."
Jane was not surprised at Elizabeth's declaration. How had she come to love Mr. Darcy so well that she felt she could never marry anyone else? Jane began to wonder if she herself knew what it was to love that deeply.
Elizabeth turned to face her sister. "Jane, do you think I must see him tonight?" She was both pleased and frightened with the prospect. She longed to see him, but she dreaded the renewal of the pain such a pleasure would cost her.
Once again they were walking. Jane did not know how to answer Elizabeth. She would like to believe that Mr. Darcy would have enough compassion on her sister to stay away, but somehow his actions were more associated with selfishness than selflessness when it came to Elizabeth. At that moment, Jane saw Mr. Darcy approach, and she then knew how to answer her sister's question.
"Yes, Lizzy, for he is coming this way," whispered Jane.
Darcy's heart was pounding as he approached the sisters. Elizabeth was more beautiful than she had ever been.
"Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, thank you for accepting my friend's invitation," he forced himself to say calmly. For a moment his hope, and his fear, was that Elizabeth had indeed forgotten him.
Elizabeth felt her chest tighten. He seemed unchanged. He was so handsome that he quite took her breath away. Despite the fact that he might appear austere to some, Elizabeth knew how gentle he could be. She remembered how he had held her hand when she unburdened her heart. She could not discount the tenderness she had seen in his eyes or the passion of his kiss. Elizabeth could not speak.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Jane answered for both of them.
Darcy looked expectantly at Elizabeth, hoping to see something, but he knew not what. In the instant their eyes met, and just before he withdrew his, he understood perfectly that she had not forgotten him, that her heart was as much his as it had ever been. It gratified his vanity that she still loved him, but he could only imagine what it must be costing her.
In an instant he knew she did not hate him. He could not bear the idea of that. He was forced, however, to acknowledge the pain in her eyes and to know that he was the cause of it.
Elizabeth rallied her courage and began to speak.
"Mr. Darcy, how was your trip to London?" She struggled for breath.
Darcy met Elizabeth's steady gaze and knew what she must be thinking. She had to be wondering why he left. She must be alluding to it.
"It was none too successful, I am afraid, though I did enjoy seeing Georgiana." The trip had been a dismal failure. He had not forgotten Elizabeth.
"You went away so suddenly..." Elizabeth wanted to say more but could not. "Excuse me, sir, I must attend my mother and sisters," she said as she turned and walked away.
Darcy looked at Jane for a moment and was about to turn away from her when she said, "Mr. Darcy, please forgive Elizabeth for leaving so quickly. She has been very distraught lately. Quite recently something, or perhaps I should say, someone, has hurt her very deeply."
"I am very sorry to hear that, Miss Bennet." What else could he say having been the reason for her unhappiness? With a bow he turned away from her and just as he began to move he heard the question, the answer to which convicted him of all his faults.
"Are you?" cried Jane. Anger reddened her face. She wished to leave him, but was fixed to the floor and could not command her feet to move.
He could not speak. Without excusing himself, he bowed again and left her standing there to walk to the other side of the room. She eyed him with no small feeling of resentment.
Having greeted nearly all of his guests, it remained now for Bingley to welcome his beloved Jane to Netherfield. He found her standing alone on one side of the ballroom. For a moment she did not appear to be herself, but he noticed that she immediately brightened on beholding him approach her.
"Miss Bennet, I am so pleased to see you," said Bingley as he took her hand and kissed it. "You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you for inviting me, sir. Netherfield is such a lovely place for a ball. You have outdone yourself," said Jane, her hand tingling from his touch.
"I would have to say that Mrs. Thomas has outdone herself. All I did was issue an invitation," responded Bingley. He had not released her hand after kissing it, and she made no attempt to free it.
"Then please thank her for me," Jane said kindly. "Are all your guests arrived?"
"Nearly all. Miss Bennet, I have been looking forward to this evening with great delight." Bingley paused. "Do you remember your promise of the first two dances?" he asked.
"Yes I do. How could I forget?" Jane lowered her voice. "You must know, Mr. Bingley, that I have been quite looking forward to tonight. I have been so eager to be in your company once again."
Jane wanted to confess more. She wanted to express her love to him and the appreciation she felt for his affection, but, of course, now was not the time. These sentiments filled her heart, though, and she could detect in his every word and touch a feeling of shared intimacy.
"I have brought on extra servants in hopes that my guests will not make too many demands on their host which will take him away from you," he said in a conspiratorial tone.
Jane smiled and blushed. "I think that was very wise."
Bingley had a passing glance at Elizabeth, and to him she seemed pale, fretful and not at all easy. He was disturbed but not surprised by the discovery. He had hoped that she would take pleasure in such a gathering of friends and neighbors, but it appeared to him as though she wished she were miles away. He could only conclude that the reason was her apprehension of seeing Mr. Darcy and he could not blame her.
"Miss Bennet, I am still concerned about Miss Elizabeth. She does not seem herself. Has the apothecary, Mr. Jones, been to her? I know that Mr. Manning has returned to London"
"I believe Elizabeth is recovered. Mr. Jones no longer comes to see her," said Jane. She gave him a worried look, then said, "She is not the same, though. She has yet to walk out of sight of the house."
But this seemed to be the least of it. Something inside of Elizabeth had faded. There was no laughter and neither was there any joy or animation. She was sullen and quiet all the time.
"I believe she is still nervous being alone outside since the accident. After all, what happened was horrifying. What if you had not come along when you did after she had fallen?" Jane asked. She shuddered at the remembrance how she felt that first night Elizabeth did not come home.
"You should thank Darcy for that," said Bingley dryly. "I might have ridden past and not seen her. He was off his horse and to her side before I noticed she was there." He was no less satisfied with the memory of that day than she. Being as closely attached to the family as he now felt that he was, he could look back on that time with nearly the same anxiety as Jane.
"Yes, Mr. Darcy..." Jane let her voice trail off. "What really happened while she was here?" she asked.
"He fell in love," was all Bingley could respond.
"Then why do this? Why break Lizzy's heart?" cried Jane.
Bingley was fairly certain that he knew why, but had not the heart to tell her.
Darcy had eyes only for Elizabeth, and on finding her standing alone, approached her with a great deal of hesitation and apprehension. Having spent so much time in the past drinking in her admiring eyes, he could easily recognize the pain from which she now suffered. Glancing at his reflection in a window as he passed by, he saw the reason for her grief.
He came to her from the side, and she did not notice him until he spoke.
"Good evening, Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy. He pursed his lips, fully expecting that she would not speak a word to him.
A look of recognition dawned on her face as she slowly turned to face him. Her heart stopped for a moment as she saw his beloved form and heard her name fall from his lips.
"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she said evenly, deliberately trying to mask any hint of a quiver she heard in her voice.
"I am pleased to see you..." began Darcy before Elizabeth interrupted him.
"I recall that you said that you visited with your sister while you were in town. How is Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, unwilling to allow him to finish speaking.
"My sister is well. She is progressing in her studies and is enjoying London." In his mind, Darcy was pleading for her to do more than just make civil replies.
"I am pleased to hear it."
Her throat was growing thick and she could hardly speak. Indeed, she knew not what to say and concluded that for her own peace of mind she must get away from him. It was his presence. She could not endure his presence ... the memories ... it was too much.
"Mr. Darcy, please excuse..."
Not wanting her to go, refusing to allow their interview to end, he interrupted her.
"Miss Elizabeth, have you resumed your habit of walking out in the countryside?" He knew the answer to this question would be a gauge of her true return to health, and he hoped for a positive answer.
"I have not." She closed her eyes and felt them begin to burn.
Darcy looked at her carefully. He had opened fresh wounds and he hated himself for being there, but he could not go away, not now.
The music stopped for a moment as a new set was forming up. She tried to turn again, but again he stopped her. They had once spoken together of dancing. Would she remember? Dare he suggest that it?
"Miss Bennet," he asked formally, "will you do me the honor of dancing the next two with me?"
"I..." She knew she would be undone once she felt his touch. She knew she should refuse him, but she could not deny him anything. She could not deny herself.
"I ... yes, Mr. Darcy, I will."
He reached out his hand and she carefully placed hers on it. She felt his warmth, and remembered when they had touched before. Although she was wearing a glove, she was not less moved by the sensation now than she had been before.
They moved down the dance, their hands touching and lingering and their shoulders brushing. Each touch seemed to awaken a further desire in her. She moved with grace and elegance. They did not speak during the set, for which she was grateful.
Darcy knew he was playing with fire, but like a moth that is attracted to the flame, he could not stay away. The yearning in her eyes cut through him. He understood this to be a further testimony of the love she held for him. He felt his resolve nearly shatter every time their eyes met. He felt cursed. Why must he not act on the feelings of his heart? He could not imagine a woman more suited to be his wife, yet she was not suitable, at least according to the dictates of his parents. He was haunted by their ghosts and he was haunted by her eyes.
The music came to an end and their hands touched again as he led her off from the dance. Unwillingly, he released her hand. Just as unwillingly, she let her hand fall carelessly to her side.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, with lowered eyes.
"My pleasure, Miss Bennet," he said. He paused for an uncomfortable moment and she looked up at him.
He cleared his throat. "I wish..."
She could barely hear his words. In the next instant he was gone.
Jane had witnessed Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy dancing with a great deal of apprehension. No good could come from such an intimate encounter. Jane knew that Elizabeth would be unequal to it.
When Jane observed Mr. Darcy walk away from Elizabeth and that she was alone once again, she came over to her and could not refrain from this inquiry.
"Lizzy, why did you do it? Why did you dance with him?"
Jane put her arm around Elizabeth's shoulder and reproached herself for allowing Elizabeth to have been left alone and unprotected. She had never thought that Mr. Darcy would approach Elizabeth, let alone ask her to dance. Once again, Jane felt she had failed her sister. Whatever he was about, thought Jane, it was all meant to hurt Elizabeth, whether designedly or not.
"He asked me, Jane, and I could not refuse him," said Elizabeth. "I did not want to refuse him." Jane took Elizabeth's arm and led her off to the side of the room where there was some privacy.
As they were walking, Elizabeth continued. "Just now, as he walked away, I heard him say, 'I wish...' Oh, Jane, you do not know how much I wish, also."
Knowing that she was loved by Mr. Bingley, Jane could easily imagine for what Elizabeth wished. What was wrong? she asked herself. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were so well suited to each other. Elizabeth would temper him with playfulness and liveliness and she would benefit from his vast experience and knowledge of the world. They truly belonged with each other. What had happened?
Jane could no longer show her anger with him. It would only hurt Elizabeth more for her to speak poorly of Mr. Darcy. All she could do was comfort Elizabeth and be grateful for her own Mr. Bingley.
"Mr. Darcy," said Sir William Lucas, walking up to him after Darcy parted from Elizabeth, "dancing is such a fine entertainment for young people. I noticed that you are adept in the art yourself."
When his thoughts were interrupted by Sir William, Darcy had been reflecting on the beauty and grace with which Elizabeth danced. Though receiving some pleasure from the thought, the pain of what could not be darkened any happiness he felt from being with her.
Turning the conversation away from himself, Darcy answered Sir William with a question of his own.
"Do you enjoy the amusement, sir?" asked Darcy, only mildly interested in what the older man might say.
"I was very fond of the activity. Lady Lucas and I would dance for hours at every assembly, but my dancing days are over now, though I like very much to watch. I saw you dancing with Miss Eliza Bennet. She certainly is the jewel of the country, would not you say, Mr. Darcy?"
"She is beautiful, sir." A jewel, thought Darcy. Yes, she is a jewel.
"As is her sister, Miss Jane Bennet. It will be a fine thing when she is married to Mr. Bingley," said Sir William. "A fine thing indeed."
"Excuse me?" Darcy was shocked. He knew of Bingley's understanding with Miss Bennet, but was not prepared to hear from those outside the relationship that it had progressed forward enough that their marriage was considered as certain.
"It is assumed by everyone that they will soon be married," said Sir William. "I am sure that all that remains to be done is to draw up the settlement papers and arrange for the wedding breakfast."
"I was not aware," said Darcy gravely. "Excuse me." Without another word, he walked away from Sir William, who watched his receding figure with satisfaction, knowing how much pleasure Mr. Darcy must take in the happiness of his friend.
Darcy was shocked by this revelation. He had to talk to Bingley. For Bingley's sake, and for his own, he had to convince him he was wrong to pursue Miss Bennet.
He found his friend deep in conversation with that lady. He observed them for a moment before interrupting them, seeing with wonder the ease and familiarity with which they spoke, and witnessing in the exchange of knowing glances and casual touches a relationship of true intimacy.
At his friend's insistence, Bingley excused himself from Miss Bennet and he and Darcy left the room.
Bingley retreated with Darcy to the library. Darcy, being uncomfortable with the task he was about to undertake, found the air in the room to be rather stifling, and so threw open the sash to allow for some fresh air.
Elizabeth could no longer endure the confinement of the ballroom. Having danced with Mr. Darcy, having touched Mr. Darcy, her mind was full of him, consumed by him. Unable to bear the feelings she was experiencing, she retreated to a balcony to be alone in the night air.
A tear escaped her eye as she recalled each step they had made together across the dance floor. She had been able to detect his familiar scent and the memories it conjured up of the time he held her and kissed her were too much to bear. Her mind was aflame with anguish, and she promised herself she would never again submit to being in his company. It was too much.
How she longed to be at home, but she was constrained to remain at Netherfield, for it was dark. In former times, the walk home would have been nothing to her. She had been out in the dark often enough, but now she dared not go. She was afraid, and did not trust herself to be out of sight of refuge.
She knew if she asked to be sent home in the carriage, Jane would accompany her, and no matter how much she suffered, she would not let self intrude on the happiness her sister found in Mr. Bingley's company.
Her reverie was disturbed by voices coming through an open window, and without knowing it, she found herself drawn into a conversation between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.
'What kind of accidental information, Darcy?'
'From Sir William Lucas. Apparently your marriage to Miss Bennet is widely assumed.'
'I told you that she gave me her consent to court her.'
'And we talked about that. Do you intend to propose marriage to her?'
'I do...'
Elizabeth was not surprised to hear this. It was obvious that Bingley loved her sister.
'...my mother's wedding ring comes to me tomorrow from London. I intend to ask her at the earliest opportunity.'
'Bingley...'
Elizabeth knew she should not be listening to this, but could not help herself. Bingley was to propose to Jane as early as tomorrow!
'Be happy for me, Darcy.'
'Bingley, are you absolutely certain that you wish to attach yourself to the Bennet family? What about the younger sisters and their scandalous behavior? How do you think that will end? What about their mercenary mother, with whom it is an embarrassment to associate? Surely, you cannot believe that you will be untouched by these things! What about her connections?'
'What about them? She has an uncle in trade and another that is an attorney. Darcy, every family has its disadvantages. I am willing to acknowledge shortcomings in the younger girls, but remember, they lost their father at an early age. Mrs. Bennet should be a stronger mother to them, but I am certain that with Jane's good example and my assistance we can influence the girls towards proper behavior. Mrs. Bennet is merely looking out for the welfare of her daughters. Her manner may be coarse, but it is sincere.'
Elizabeth inched closer to the window.
'But you could marry the daughter of a gentleman from an established, reputable family. You could take away the stigma of trade from your fortune. If you marry Miss Bennet, you will never be able to assume your rightful place in society.'
'So you have told me. Darcy, she is the daughter of a gentleman. And my fortune does come from trade. I accept that even though my sisters do not. Our sons will be born as gentlemen. I cannot ask for more.'
There was a pause, and then she heard Bingley's voice again.
'But I can and will ask for more, Darcy. I will ask that I am loved and respected regardless of fortune, and I know that this is how Miss Bennet feels about me. I am going to marry her, Darcy!'
Elizabeth was shocked. Is this what Darcy thought of her?
She ran off the balcony and down a hall until she came to a dark staircase. She sat herself down and cried softly, sorry for Bingley, for Jane, for Darcy and most of all, for herself. Why did she ever have to fall that day? Why did she ever have to be so long at Netherfield? Why did she have to love Mr. Darcy?