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Chapter 17: Yet Another Surprise!
The Darcy brothers arrived at the Bingley townhouse at noon - the earliest respectable hour for a social call after a long night of revelry.
They were promptly invited to join Mr. Bingley and his son in the morning room. The rest of the family was still abed.
"Alexander! James! Join us for a steaming cup of coffee! Both of you look quite worse for wear!" Henry Bingley greeted his cousins with a tired look. "My feet have gone to the dogs! I have never danced so much as I did last night!"
"I am glad you had a marvelous time," remarked Alexander Darcy with a smile.
"Hear! Hear! And live yet for another day, unscathed by my close encounters with various matrimonial traps!" laughed Henry. "I need my full liberty when I make the Grand Tour of the Continent with your brother and Anthony Fitzwilliam!"
At the mention of their impending travel, James Darcy frowned for a moment, but refrained from speaking.
"I was glad that you did not hide behind any potted plants late night, but stood so valiantly with Lizzy," continued Henry lightheartedly as he smiled at Alexander, and did not notice anything amiss with James.
"Well, my little sister seemed to think that she was in some kind of danger."
"Lizzy was not mistaken in her apprehension," replied Henry, looking earnestly at his cousins. "She was Lord Paxton's first choice for his son William!"
"What?" exclaimed the Darcy brothers in unison. They were stunned by his words.
"Lord Paxton thought that your sister Elizabeth would make an ideal wife for his son William," replied Mr. Bingley calmly.
"But my exulted cousin thought otherwise," laughed Henry in such merriment. "William declared that if he had 'to suffer marriage,' then he would prefer my sister Isabella above all others for wife!"
"Indeed!" confirmed Mr. Bingley with an amused smile. "You have just missed their lordships' departure by a few minutes. They were here - father and son - bright and early this morning. The old Earl was impatient for his son to secure the hand of my fair daughter as soon as he could! Imagine that! My sweet Isabella as Viscountess Braunfield!"
Alexander Darcy was dumbfounded, but his brother James managed to say, "Uncle Charles! Surely you did not give Lord Braunfield your consent!"
Mr. Bingley roared with laughter, his bright blue eyes twinkled as he declared, "I am the last father in the world to make any of my children marry where their hearts are not so inclined! In spite of his exceedingly good looks, his father's vaults of gold, and his palatial mansions, Lord Braunfield cannot bring even a genuine smile to my dear Isabella's face, let alone the prospect of making her happy in marriage! Isabella rejected his proposal immediately."
"Lord Paxton was very disappointed," interjected Henry Bingley, "and my cousin William was stunned beyond words. He had the arrogant presumption that if he should make an offer of marriage, the object of his desire should swoon at his feet and accept him with gratitude! Insufferable and obnoxious young pup! Sometimes, I cannot believe that Lord Braunfield and I are related by blood!"
"Henry!" admonished Mr. Bingley, with a stern look of disapproval at the outspokenness of his son.
"I beg your pardon, sir!" said Henry sheepishly. "I meant no disrespect."
"Where is Isabella now?" asked Alexander, anxious for her feelings, and eager to be by her side to comfort her.
"She is in the back garden - taking a meditative walk to calm her nerves. It has been a very excitable morning," replied Mr. Bingley.
"Well, we best leave her alone then," said James, trying to wiggle out of his impending interview with Isabella. He could not help but feel apprehensive. He did not doubt Isabella's magnanimity, but he was uncertain how she would receive him after her traumatic encounter with Lord Braunfield.
His elder brother, however, would not have him be off the hook so easily.
"Uncle Charles," said Alexander, "with your permission, my brother James would like to have a word with Isabella."
"Not another proposal!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley in a teasing tone, "I do not think my darling daughter can bear another proposal this morning, not even one from a worthy Darcy!"
"No, no, not a proposal of marriage,' replied Alexander somberly, "but James needs to speak with Isabella on a very important matter. It is rather urgent as he intends to leave for Devonshire very soon."
Both Bingleys regarded the request with looks of puzzlement. Mr. Bingley, however, granted his consent with an easy smile.
"Are you coming with me?" inquired James, half-hoping, yet half-fearing the prospect.
"Perhaps it is best if you go to her first," said Alexander. He patted his brother's back reassuringly as he realized that James might fare better without his stern presence. "Speak plainly, my little brother, and you shall be fine."
"Well, Alexander, if you are not required to go with James, perhaps you can take a seat here and tell us all about Ridgemont," said Mr. Bingley. "Your father told me that . . ."
Half an hour passed before James Darcy rejoined them.
"Well?" asked Alexander expectantly. James looked none worse from his talk with Isabella.
"All is well," said James quietly, "we are still the best of friends."
Henry Bingley frowned, his mind echoed the complaint he made last night at the Ball - his Darcy cousins liked to talk in a private code sometimes - he could not comprehend them at all.
"What is going on here?" asked Henry in a concerned manner.
Alexander stood up promptly. "Uncle Charles! Henry! If you would pardon me, I should like to speak to Isabella as well. James will enlighten you on our very peculiar behaviour this morning."
Without a backward glance, Alexander strolled out of the breakfast room to the back garden in search of Isabella. He found her standing alone, gazing at a bed of roses with a pensive look on her beautiful face. She was not crying.
It was a good sign, he thought guardedly.
"Good morning, Isabella," he said in a gentlemanly tone as he approached her.
She turned her head, and seemed rather surprised to see him.
"Oh, hello there," she replied with the slightest curve of her lips, "and it is already past noon."
"So it is," nodded Alexander. He took a tentative step towards her, unsure of her reception of him. Civil words had passed between them yesterday, but they had not broached any words of a personal nature since that unfortunate talk on New Year's Day. James had promised to make things right for him, but he could not be certain of Isabella's reaction.
"I cannot tell you how sorry I am about my brother's behaviour. He is entirely unpardonable!" he said earnestly.
She held up her hand to halt his speech. "Please! Do not begrudge James for his happiness!"
"Well, I do begrudge him because he has robbed you of your own happiness! I think his engagement is sheer madness!" said Alexander with great emotion. "James has been in love with you these past three years, nay, almost four years! How can he possibly dash off and propose to another woman? I cannot think of a good reason for his rash action!"
"I can," she replied with a genuine laugh, her first laugh of the day. "James has the excellent reason - he is in love!"
"But he is in love with you!" insisted Alexander, although at the back of his mind, he wondered why he was arguing over this! James's engagement to Miss Brandon had effectively freed him of his solemn pledge to stay away from Isabella. It was now perfectly fine if he put forth his own courtship of her!
What an incredibly turn of events! Why was he not seizing the opportunity immediately?
He knew the answer, of course. It was his own fastidious nature - he had to be certain that Isabella was not overwhelmed with a broken heart before he made his own confession to her.
"Well, James cannot be truly in love with me if he can fall in love so rapidly with Miss Brandon, can he?" reasoned Isabella calmly. "Alexander, I am grateful for your concern, but James has not injured or dishonored me. I must confess that I am surprised by his sudden engagement! James did think of himself as being in love with me these past four years, and I was equally convinced by him. When we considered the matter presently, in its proper perspective, we both realized that he had been in love with the notion of love, and not with me in particular. I felt the same way about him - trying hard to convince myself that I was foolish not to be in love with such a wonderful man, but feeling apprehensive at the same time. Surely, true love should incite more than a warm, comfortable feeling, should it not?"
He nodded silently, not trusting himself to voice his own assessment of true love.
After a moment's pause, she stated in a very somber tone, "James and I were never betrothed to each other. Therefore, he has not robbed me of my happiness."
"But you have had a most particular understanding with each other," he continued, the very words he uttered tormented his heart. "James had insisted upon the truth of it. He wrote to me several times after his return to Pemberley, repeatedly assuring me that you had reconciled, and that you were on the best of terms again."
"We were indeed best friends again - perhaps with a better understanding of each other's nature than ever before," nodded Isabella.
"Well . . . I came to London with the assumption that you were planning to announce your engagement after Margaret's wedding," he muttered softly.
"You have been mistaken then. James did wish for a renewal of his courtship after we reconciled, but I refused him - as I have steadily refused it from all others."
The last few words, so sternly stated, plunged Alexander into a new sense of despair. He had come to her with the primary purpose of offering his sympathy and abiding friendship. Fonder hopes had surged into his heart when she declared that she and James had never been secretly engaged.
Such fresh hopes, however, were given only a few moments of life. They were quickly dashed by her latest utterance.
He could not help but repeated her words dumbly, "You have steadily refused courtship from all others?"
"Yes," came the unmistakably clear and firm answer.
She smiled at last, confidently, and perhaps with the slightest hint of regret, "I have long decided to be a happy spinster. I am very happy that James is engaged to be married to a truly accompanied lady. Miss Brandon is a reputed beauty, gifted musician and a scholar as well. From James's testimony, they seem to be a well-matched pair, and are destined for great happiness."
Alexander nodded silently, with admiration for Isabella's generous heart. He said as much to her, "You are far too gracious."
He continued to look at her intently, but did not utter another word.
"Yes?" she said, looking a bit leery, worried that he might give her another uninvited kiss.
James Darcy had concluded his confession to her with a firm declaration that Alexander was deeply in love with her - that he himself was the culprit that prevented his elder brother from courting her. Indeed, James's insistent words rang in her ears still - "A far better man than I! You must allow my brother a chance to court you, Bella! You must!"
Yet, from the very moment James had uttered such a plead, she had felt very skeptical. She concluded that James was simply trying to salvage a very awkward situation between them, as if having the next eligible suitor ready in line for her attention would alleviate any pain she might have in her heart, and would absolve himself of any lingering guilt.
Dear, sweet, but foolish James, she thought fondly! How familiar a habit it was for him to promote an outrageous idea when he suffered great embarrassment!
"Isabella . . ." said Alexander hesitantly as he took another half a step towards her.
Her immediate reaction was to take two quick steps backwards, as if she was afraid of being seized by him. She had yet to recover fully from the torrent of conflicting emotions his first kiss had ignited. She realized afresh how attracted she was to the physical aspect of him. He radiated such a powerful vitality that she found very difficult to resist . . .
Perhaps Isabella Bingley's apprehension would have been far less severe, or perhaps she might have welcomed Alexander's attention if she did not suffer Lord Braunfield's marriage proposal a mere half an hour ago!
Her cousin not only offered marriage in such a condescending way, but also had the despicable arrogance to seize her in his arms for an ardent kiss after her firm refusal of him! His kiss had been entirely unexpected and certainly uninvited! Despite of his lordship's infamous reputation with women, his expertise in the art of love did not excite any feelings in Isabella other than utter disgust! She fought him from the first, struggling to be freed of his powerful hold upon her person. She felt his mouth pressing so revolting against hers, his breath befouled by his penchant for smoking cigarillos.
Her determined efforts to liberate herself, although futile, had surprised Lord Braunfield to the extent that his hold on her slackened a fraction, and she was able to free a hand to deal him a mighty slap on the face.
"How dare you?" she shouted at him.
Yet, she held back her hot tears of indignation as she would not let such a man see her cry. It seemed very likely that he was of such a nature that he would quite enjoy the hurt he inflicted upon others.
Lord Braunfield had merely laughed as he stroked his slightly bruised cheek. He declared that he would not be so easily discouraged.
"My fair cousin, now that your sweet lips has ignited such a fire in my heart, and your very alluring figure has felt so temptingly enticing in my arms, I am more convinced than ever that you shall make an ideal wife! Your stinging slap and fury merely reflect the hidden passions beneath your classic beauty and calm demeanor. I find this novel experience very thrilling indeed! My beautiful goddess, if I can contrive a situation for us to be entirely alone, I shall teach you certain lessons . . ."
The vile viscount left his ominous threat unfinished as he strutted away proudly.
Unfortunately for Alexander Darcy, Isabella's loathsome encounter with Lord Braunfield lingered in her mind like a slow, insipid poison.
What intolerable presumption men had towards women, thought Isabella angrily, as if their passionate kisses could stake a sure claim upon a lady's tender heart! She was not a piece of territory for someone to plant a flag upon, and to proclaim it as his own realm with all entailing sovereign rights! Yet, from her own experience, she had suffered such indignation at the hands of her three cousins - Lord Braunfield, James and Alexander Darcy! All three of them were guilty of such arrogance!
When Alexander took a step closer to her, she could not help but glared at her present company. In her seething anger, her prudent judgment became temporary blinded. She saw Alexander Darcy in the same light as Lord Braunfield, and did not discriminate the different motives behind their kisses.
Alexander, ever sensible, had a keen eye for details. He saw the hard glint in her vivid blue eyes. Unfortunately, not knowing the root cause of it, he naturally blamed himself yet again! He took a firm grip of his own yearnings, and placed her concerns before his own.
"Please! Do not be alarm!" He spoke in the most earnest tone, and stepped back from her. "I realize that this is not the proper time to speak of this, but I beseech you to grant me a chance . . . to confess to you that . . ."
She held up a hand instantly, in a pleading gesture.
"Please! I beg of you! Do not speak it! I am not of the proper mind to hear anything more! Please, Alexander! Please have the compassion to understand me! I wish to be left alone now! I feel rather exhausted and overwhelmed!"
Believing he had caused her more distress by his mere presence, he nodded with deep regret.
"As you wish," he murmured as he bowed again to take his leave.
Separately by a safe distance of several feet, Isabella finally looked up to watch him leave. As he walked past the rose garden, he paused thoughtfully. He plucked the loveliest rose, and trimmed the thorns off neatly with his pocketknife. He ran his fingers carefully over the stem to ensure that its smoothness.
He then turned back to her again, but stopped within an arm's length of her.
He simply said, "A token of my humble apologies and sincere friendship, my dear Isabella. The perfection of this rose reflects yours. May you rejoice in its beauty."
His deep voice seemed to shake a bit. Their fingertips met briefly as the rose changed hands. This mildest touch seemed to send a shock through her, and she was stunned to find the severity of her reaction to Alexander Darcy.
Her cheeks felt hot, and she berated herself again.
She vowed that she would not suffer the same fate of her Aunt Lydia! She knew all too well the folly of allowing extreme emotions to cloud one's rational mind. In her agitation, she did not realize that her determination to be indifferent to Alexander's physical attributes had caused her to ignore all other meritorious aspects of the man. Her abhorrence of bearing any resemblance to Lydia Wickham had unwittingly caused her to paint Alexander Darcy into the role of George Wickham. Her seething anger against Lord Braunfield's rakish arrogance had tainted her perception of Alexander Darcy's true worth. In such unfavourable light, Alexander's gentle words and gentlemanly behavior might well be a ploy to tempt her!
Isabella kept her eyes upon the rose, and refused to meet his gaze directly.
She realized that she was being very unfair to Alexander, that she had given James Darcy, and even Lord Braunfield, a chance to speak their minds, but did not grant Alexander the same courtesy. She was torn by her natural curiosity to hear his confession, and by her determination to be freed of the web of emotional entanglements and the endless hunt for spouses!
Did it matter at all to her, she reasoned to herself, whether Alexander Darcy had kissed her to express something more than artistic appreciation, whether he had had mistresses from Paris to Rome, or whether he had led the exemplary life of a celibate monk instead? Such matters should not be of any interest or concern to her! A young woman "on the shelf' should rise above such frivolous matters!
Isabella could feel the intensity of his eyes upon her, and felt his breathing quickened as he waited patiently for the slightest sign of mercy from her.
As she struggled with her decision, she bit her trembling lips. She never knew if the outcome would be different had she not bit her lips. Unfortunately, the lingering foul taste of Lord Braunfield's cigarillo upon her lips prompted her into a fateful decision.
She became as still as a statue, standing so rigidly before Alexander. Wordlessly, he lifted her hand with infinite tenderness, bestowed a kiss upon it before he released his gentle hold at once. As she had refused to meet his gaze, she never saw the love and yearning in his dark eyes, never knew how much he wished to embrace her within his strong arms and to kiss away her worries.
When she finally looked up, he was gone.
Chapter 18: An Abiding Friendship
The weeks that followed were hectic ones. The whole of London - indeed, the entire country - was in excited anticipation and preparation for the Coronation of Queen Victoria. The young queen had succeeded to the throne of England upon the death of her royal uncle King William IV on the twentieth of June the preceding year, but her official coronation would not take place until twenty-eight of June, 1838 at Westminster Abbey. It had taken an entire year to prepare for such an historic celebration, and the hearts of the people of the entire realm had already been won over by the young queen. Whether their new sovereign was truly endowed with all the virtues and merits that her people believed her to be blessed with were an irrelevant matter. Her loyal subjects wished, hoped and prayed for essentially the same vision - that Great Britain would enter a new era of greatness: of prestige, vitality and strength as a nation, of moral leadership and imperial dominance in the world under Queen Victoria.
All of fashionable London was celebrating this particular Season with extraordinary vigour and aplomb. Social calls, dinner soirees, formal balls increased tenfold. The Darcys and the Bingleys, like the rest of the ton, stayed in Town, and enjoyed the numerous festivities. There were a few notable exceptions: Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Knightley were on their honeymoon, and James Darcy had returned to Delaford by the Brandons' warm invitation.
Isabella Bingley, to her utter surprise, found herself besieged by a phalanx of eager suitors wherever she went. Isabella was a young lady of refined grace, intelligence, and beauty. Such personal merits, together with her substantial dowry, had made her an irresistible object of desire for many young gentlemen of the ton these past Seasons. Her rejection of Lord Braunfield's marriage proposal seemed to have triggered a renewed excitement. Her avowal of "being on the shelf" now considered by most to be a null and void matter, regardless of the lady's actual wishes.
The mad chase was on yet again!
Isabella wisely avoided attending nearly all the Balls and dinner soirees during those hectic weeks. She spent many evenings quietly at home - to pursue her extensive reading and letter writing. She devoted her time to the various charitable societies to which she belonged, and spent most of her days visiting orphanages, and toiling tirelessly to help raise money and public awareness. She wrote to editors of newspapers as well as members of Parliament - a steady flow of correspondences to convince influential people of the plight of orphans in the country, and to persuade them the dire needs for reforms.
Her cousin Lizzy accompanied her to most of her charity work, as they were kindred spirits who shared many familiar interests and goals. At times, they were joined by Emily and Jane, but the latter two enjoyed making social calls and having afternoon tea with the fashionable set more than traversing all over Town in such tireless spirit of goodwill to fellow men. Georgette Wickham was cordially invited and welcomed to join them on their outings, but the young woman preferred to spend her days near Whitehall, where one was more likely to encounter a handsome soldier in full regimentals than at Pall Mall.
To everyone's delight, especially his beloved family, Alexander Darcy had altered his travel plans. He did not return to the Ridgemont mine immediately, but stayed on in Town instead. Whenever he was free of his meetings with bankers and lawyers, an occasional cricket game at White's or luncheon at Boodle's with his chums, he chose to chaperone his sisters and cousins on their various outings.
His own generous nature, spurred on by his recent experience at Ridgemont and his avid reading of Mr. Charles Dickens' stories of social ills, prompted him to show a genuine interest in the charity work of Isabella and Lizzy. He willingly aided them whenever he could. It was an odd sight at many orphanages - these beautiful and fashionable young ladies, accompanied by their maids and footmen, and escorted by a tall, solemn young gentleman - bringing gifts, food and sundry supplies.
The cousins enjoyed other pastimes as well. Lizzy and Isabella, in particular, had their favourite routines - a morning ride at Hyde Park, a visit to Hachard's for new books, ice-treats at Guther's, and an evening at the opera or theatre. Alexander Darcy appointed himself their faithful escort. Henry Bingley, Andrew Fitzwilliam and other Fitzwilliam cousins joined them frequently - a very handsome group that drew much attention and admiration wherever they went.
In his manner and speech, Alexander was unfailingly cordial and attentive to all the ladies, but he did not advance any particular attention or overtly romantic undertones towards Isabella. His austere realization that Isabella needed a true friend more than an ardent suitor was accurate and timely. He did not press her again for a renewed opportunity to make his confession, and she was gladdened by his sincere friendship.
Although Isabella did not voice her appreciation aloud, she bestowed frequent and genuine smiles upon Alexander. He was thrilled beyond measure to find himself the happy recipient of such magnanimity. He did not always have the good fortune to sit next to her at dinner or at their reserved box seats at the Opera or Theatre Royale, but whenever he did, he felt very content.
They could go on indefinitely in such perfect amicability, he thought.
He who was patient and persistent would prevail! Someday, he prayed, she would yet look upon him with deeper and greater sentiments.
There was one formal ball that Isabella could not decline to attend. The Darcys hosted their annual summer Ball amidst great fanfare - a prenuptial celebration for James and his betrothed. Isabella's deep love for her Aunt Elizabeth meant that she could not disappoint her by feigning a headache. Besides, she truly wanted to meet Miss Brandon, and to wish her joy.
At the Darcy Ball, the happily engaged couple was the center of attention. James Darcy was eager to show everyone the source of his joy, and Miss Miranda Brandon was received by everyone with great acclaims.
The Brandons were rarely in Town since Colonel Brandon preferred the pristine air and tranquility of his vast estate in Devonshire. Tall and formidable-looking, Colonel Brandon was essentially a quiet man, utterly devoted to his wife Marianne and their only daughter Miranda. He appreciated good music and poetry, and prized quiet evenings by his hearth at Delaford above all other entertainment and distractions.
Mrs. Brandon, however, was enjoying the Season immensely. To her delight, she found a ready friend in Mrs. Darcy. Although quite different in temperament - Mrs. Darcy was warm-hearted and sensible whilst Mrs. Brandon tended to be sensitive and emotional - their mutual love of music and Shakespeare helped to secure their budding friendship.
Amongst the guests at the Darcy Ball was the Fitzwilliam clan.
Lord and Lady Matlock were effusive in their praises of James Darcy's betrothed.
"Miss Brandon is an exceeding fine young lady whom Lady Catherine de Bourgh cannot find fault with!" agreed Mrs. Darcy with a mirthful smile.
Her humourous and candid remark elicited merry laughter from all her relations.
"My dear cousin Elizabeth," declared Lord Matlock earnestly, "my wife and I pray every night that our own sons should be as fortunate as Darcy in finding a wonderful spouse such as you!"
Mrs. Darcy acknowledged such praises with a gracious smile, and proceeded to mingle with her other guests to ensure of their comfort.
General Sir James Fitzwilliam, with his beloved wife Georgiana close by his side, basked in the honour of being the "matchmakers" of this successful courtship, and received many compliments from friends and relatives.
Sir James chatted happily with his brother-in-law.
"Well, Darcy, as you are very busy with your duties as our gracious host, you can offer your thanks later," remarked Sir James with his customary jovial laugh.
Mr. Darcy shook his head in resignation, "Fitzwilliam, I am still uncertain whether I should thank you or be angry with you!"
"Pray tell, Darcy, why should you be angry with me? Have I not performed a good deed - as your son's matchmaker? Granted, I had no prior aspirations to be a matchmaker when James came along with our visit to Delaford, and I certainly did not expect him to fall in love and propose to Miss Brandon within three days! Yet, the best result often comes when one least expects it to! They seem very happy together - a good match!"
"Yes, indeed," agreed Lady Fitzwilliam as she smiled at her husband. "You deserve my brother's gratitude fully, my love."
"My dear sister is correct, of course," said Mr. Darcy with a genuine smile. "You have my sincere thanks, Fitzwilliam, but I am still rather unsettled. James gave us all quite a shock with his unexpected engagement, and had unwittingly caused undue distress to certain people. As a military man, you can surely comprehend the vital importance of timing!"
Sir James's alert eyes scanned the ballroom as if he was on a battlefield, and assessed the situation quickly and correctly.
"Yes! Being at the right place at the wrong time can indeed turn the tide of a battle, and one can easily suffer a grave defeat! I can readily see that my other nephew is still in agony over a certain young lady," remarked Sir James discreetly, with genuine sympathy as he spotted Alexander across the room. "Your oldest one is too much like you, Darcy! Too much silent brooding and too noble for his own good! Surely, he must not wait any longer to declare his true feelings!"
Mr. Darcy looked at Sir James quizzically. He had not divulged to him the full story of how his two sons were vying for the heart of fair Isabella Bingley, but apparently Sir James knew the truth of the matter already.
"Since the look of love is so apparent in Alexander's eyes whenever he gazes upon his fair cousin Isabella, it has not been necessary to discuss the matter with Mrs. Darcy, or with anyone else. I first spotted such a look in Alexander at your Anniversary Ball. I do not know of the details, of course, but I can surmise that there must have been great rivalry between your sons!"
"You are entirely correct, Sir James," remarked Mrs. Darcy as she rejoined them and caught the last tidbit of their conversation, "we have tried to stay neutral and not interfere in this critical matter, but our inaction might have made matters worse!"
"I think Mr. Bingley's nephew is the one currently responsible for making matters worse," said Lady Fitzwilliam.
"Yes, Georgiana," agreed Mr. Darcy as he followed her gaze. He could clearly see Lord Braunfield pestering Isabella for a dance.
"The young viscount is a real jackanape," agreed Sir James with a disapproving frown. "Someone should step into the fray to rescue dear Isabella!"
"Where is our Andrew? Or Lord Ashbourne?" inquired Lady Fitzwilliam, glancing over the crowd in search of her dear son as well as the heir of Lord Matlock. "Perhaps one of them can perform the duty?"
She soon spotted the two young gentlemen across the Ballroom, but they were occupied with another young lady already.
Andrew Fitzwilliam and his cousin Lord Ashbourne, both tall and broad-shouldered young men of similar age, were engaged in a lively conversation with young Elizabeth Darcy. Their handsome faces bore deep frowns, and they shook their heads constantly. Their natural amicability, however, seemed well in place as they listened to their cousin.
Another heated lecture on social ills was well underway, thought Lady Fitzwilliam as she gazed fondly at her niece, but Andrew as well as Lord Ashbourne were ever the faithful audience of Lizzy Darcy.
"Lord Braunfield," said Isabella Bingley in a firm voice, "I must insist that you cease your attention towards me. I thank you again for your condensation, but I am resolute in my refusal of you."
"My dear cousin," smiled Lord Braunfield placidly, "why the sudden formality? Have I not always been William to you? Indeed, I rather like the way my name sounds when you pronoun it. Your voice is so melodic - it makes a man wishes to be in your constant company!"
Isabella frowned at his impertinence, and spoke candidly.
"Under the present circumstances, my lord, I believe it is best to overlook our familial ties, and treat each other with the strictest formality!" She did not add that they had never shared the same kind of affectionate bonds the way she did with her many other cousins.
Lord Braunfield smiled at her broadly, unaware that his handsome face did not entice her at all. Indeed, she found his manner loathsome and his character repulsive. She took a couple of hasty steps away from him.
To her great dismay, Isabella found herself boxed in by two newly arrived companions. The Earl and Countess Paxton had joined them, and they smiled at her as if she was a prized trophy, already within their grasp.
"My dear Isabella," purred Lady Paxton as she laid an elegant and bejeweled hand upon her niece, "we are so glad to see you here! We cannot be happier, can we, William?"
"Indeed," replied Lord Braunfield with a smug look, "I shall venture to monopoly Isabella's delightful company tonight!"
Viscount Braunfield was quite determined to win his cousin's hand in marriage - it was not a matter of being in love with her - but the more important fact that she had turned him down. The rejection had been a severe blow to his own esteem, and had made him quite a laughing stock amongst his chums. He should not have boasted of his engagement before he had actually secured Isabella's consent. Moreover, he had convinced himself that she secretly liked him - it was merely the fashion of elegant and desirable ladies to reject their ardent suitors at least once!
In his determined efforts to win her, Lord Braunfield found himself quite obsessed. He began to appreciate the true beauty and merits of his cousin Isabella, which he had never bothered to take notice of. Matrimony to such a gem would not be such a vile prospect after all, thought his lordship.
"My dear," continued Lady Paxton, "if you find William in need of improvement to suit your excellent standard, pray, by all means, allow him the opportunity to do so! My son is ready and willing to do your bidding!"
Isabella almost shouted that her fervent wish was to be left alone. In her consternation, she did not notice that Alexander Darcy had approached them.
"Good evening, Lady Paxton! Lord Paxton! Lord Braunfield!" The cordiality in his deep and pleasant voice matched the respectful bow he was giving them.
Isabella looked up, and gazed into the fine dark eyes of Alexander Darcy.
"Isabella, I believe the next dance is mine." He was standing directly before her, and he looked very solemn. Before she could speak, he took her gloved hand, and tucked it neatly into his elbow. He bowed with ceremonial courtesy at Lord and Lady Paxton as well as Lord Braunfield.
"Begging your pardon, my lady! My lords!" said Alexander Darcy with confident ease. He looked directly at Lady Paxton for a moment longer, subtly giving her the superior courtesy to excuse them.
"Why, of course," exclaimed Lady Paxton. She was quite unsettled by the close presence of Alexander Darcy.
In looks, voice and figure, he bore such a striking resemblance to his father that Lady Paxton felt a sudden rush of mixed emotions - of delight, regret, and envy. In a fleeting moment, she had felt as if she was three and twenty again, dreaming, hoping, and plotting to win the heart of Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. She still believed that she would have made a superior match with Mr. Darcy than the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet did. How much of Lord Paxton's gold would she have willingly give up to enjoy such domestic bliss with Mr. Darcy!
Lady Paxton fastened her eyes upon Alexander Darcy, and thought to herself with extreme regret: if her matrimonial plans had succeeded, this exceedingly fine young man might have been her own son!
As the couple made their way to the dance floor, there were many pairs of curious eyes upon them. Isabella Bingley had spurned all requests for dancing during the evening thus far, and it was certainly a rare sight to see Alexander Darcy dancing at all!
Rumors had swirled around the ton since the announcement of James Darcy's engagement to Miss Brandon, and Isabella Bingley's unequivocal rejection of the blue-blooded and wealthy Lord Braunfield was public knowledge. New betting pages had been started at various gentlemen's clubs. At White's and at Boodles, an entire field of new contenders being named daily. The betting odds had been high since Miss Isabella Bingley - one of the most admired "Incomparables" - put herself "on the shelf." As Lord Braunfield's failure clearly shown, it would take more than good looks, immense wealth and noble pedigree to stir the young lady's heart. If Alexander Darcy, himself a prized catch by the ton's high standards, were in the pursuit of Isabella Bingley, then it would render the odds of success for all the others more daunting.
"Thank you for your rescue," smiled Isabella as they began to waltz.
"You looked very distressed - I had no choice but to step in immediately," chuckled Alexander softly. "I do beg your forgiveness for my insufferable presumption! I am afraid that you have merely jumped from one fire to another. I know well that my company is not exactly what you may find desirable sometimes!"
"You are . . . well, you are a far better man than William Warring! I owe my Aunt Caroline and her husband my affections, but my obnoxious cousin William is an entirely different matter!"
"He is determined to win you," he remarked dryly as he glanced in the direction of Lord Braunfield. To be sure, he received a withering glare from the noble lord.
"As I am determined to reject him!" she stated warily. "I find it distressful to be in the same room with William!"
He looked at her intently, but did not voice his own comment. Their cordial companionship of the past weeks did not occasion any such close physical contact between them until this waltz. He believed that he himself had an adverse effect upon her whenever he stood too close to her, and it did not serve him well to remind her when they were waltzing together so harmoniously.
They danced in silence for several minutes, enjoying the splendid music, and the elegant flow and sway of their steps. Alexander could scarcely believe that he was holding her in his arms again, albeit dancing rather formally, and in the company of over a couple hundred guests!
Yet, he was content, and a smile came upon his sun-bronzed face.
"You are smiling," remarked Isabella. She wanted to carry on with their cordial conversation, but did not know what subjects would suit them best at the present moment.
"My father once advised me to choose my dance partner with care. If I choose wisely, I should enjoy dancing, despite of my usual abhorrence of the exercise!"
"May I presume that you are enjoying yourself now?" she asked, taking his lead in such honest candor.
"Yes, I am," he confessed. "This reminds me vividly of the last Anniversary Ball."
"Oh! . . ." she was suddenly at a loss for words, as a wave of mixed emotions swept through her.
He lapsed into thoughtful silence as well, but she felt a distinctive tightening of his hold upon her waist as he leaned ever so slightly against her to lead her for a turn. The fleeting moment passed, and he was as formally proper as before. She might have imagined it but for his next words.
"I never thanked you properly, Isabella, for spending time with me that evening. I would never have come out of my shell if you did not take pity on me."
"It was not out of pity that I danced with you," she said sincerely, "or talked with you."
He shook his head ruefully, and said, "It was out of sisterly concern, I realize it now. Do not distress yourself any more!"
She nodded in silent acquiescence. Gradually, she relaxed and began to enjoy their waltz.
My goodness, thought Alexander, she was as nervous as a young filly! She might look poised and serene, and might speak in such calmly measured tone, but her furtive glances around the ballroom betrayed her inner anxiety. He congratulated himself for making the correct strategic moves. If he remained patient in his quest to secure her trust, she might eventually welcome his courtship.
As the waltz ended, he was reluctant to surrender her company.
"It is rather stiflingly warm in here," he remarked.
"A bit of fresh air would be nice," smiled she.
Her causal remark rendered such a bright smile on his face. He looked as if he had the winning bet on Amato - this year's Derby winner at Epsom!
They made their way to the formal garden beyond the open terrace. The moon was bright, and the night air was refreshing. They sat down on a garden bench near the marble fountain, and watched the graceful flow of the water from the urns held by the pair of marble cherubs. They could hear the music from the ballroom quite clearly. They remained in companionable silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.
She had been exceedingly puzzled by his behaviour of late. He was unfailingly gentlemanly, but he spoke with more familiar candor than before. At times, she could detect the intense gaze in his dark eyes - similar to the ones he gave her so covertly at Margaret's wedding - but he never once seek to advance any ulterior motives of his own. He seemed determined to be brotherly and amiable, but nothing beyond.
Alexander might be more sedate and less jovial than his brother James, but his company proved to be as pleasant. Indeed, he proved more considerate and attentive than James ever was because he always placed the welfare of others ahead of his own.
Indeed, she had found his sturdy presence such a tremendous comfort, throughout these few weeks, especially during Coronation Day. He had stood so protectively by his sisters and cousins, shielding them with his formidable physique against the excited throngs of crowd who had gathered to catch a glimpse of their newly crowned Queen at Westminster Abbey. . .
Upon such pleasant reflections, she was the first to broach the silence.
"You have been so kind and considerate to me lately," she said directly, without feminine artifice. "A true friend indeed."
He turned to smile at her. He radiated such graceful calmness and resilient strength, and she felt her ragged spirits being revived by his mere presence.
"In view of the present circumstances," he remarked as he held her gaze steadily, "I believe that you have greater need for a true friend, rather than a phalanx of new beaux! May I presume that neither the patiently persistent nor the obnoxiously overbearing suitors will be welcomed by you?"
"Yes, indeed," she confessed. "As I am a happy spinster, I do not welcome any suitors - not even ones who are kind-hearted and gentlemanly."
"A great pity! As you are being so honest, no one can accuse you of intentional cruelty!" He teased her gently, although he felt a painful tug at his heart.
Zounds! She would not entertain courtship of any kind! His hopes for the immediate future remained very dim indeed! Nevertheless, their growing bond of true friendship gladdened his heart.
"Isabella, I know that you have grand plans for your future - may I be privy to the details?"
"Yes, indeed! I have done quite a bit of research on matters of interest. By a Parliamentary record last year, there are over 30,000 charitable endowments currently in England. I am certain a handful of them can make use of my services! I have decided to pursue, in particular, reforms on orphanages and the promotion of public health and education. I wish to further my own education beyond my studies at my London seminary. Since my entrance is barred from formal institutions of higher learning, I plan to find other alternatives."
"There is a college in America - founded exclusively for women," he remarked, frowning a bit as he tried to recall its name.
"Yes, Mount Holyoke Female Seminary in Massachusetts. Their first class of students will graduate this August. Indeed, since last September, the Oberlin Collegiate Institute of Ohio has become an co-educational institution of higher learning," she exclaimed in excitement. "I myself have contemplated about going to America to pursue my education."
"Co-educational?" asked he in puzzlement, unfamiliar with such a terminology.
"They teach women students as well as men," she smiled.
"In the same lecture hall?" marveled he.
"Yes! I believe Oberlin's current enrollment is four females and thirty males."
"Too many males!" he remarked dryly. "The gentlemen shall all go distracted with the feminine presence in their midst!"
"Greater minds occupy themselves with more serious matters!" she retorted with a smile.
"I agree entirely, but if you enroll there, my dear cousin, I wonder if anyone can study properly! The only ones who will graduate will be the female students!"
"Alexander, you are being quite ridiculous!" she laughed, rather pleased to find such mirthful humour in him.
"I only state the obvious truth!" protested he with easy laughter as well.
She went on, in great enthusiasm, to discuss her plans for the future.
Alexander listened impressively to her obvious dedication to her noble causes, but ever saddened that her avowed choice of spinsterhood remained strong. He felt very gloomy at his own immediate prospect.
"Surely, Isabella, one can be active in pursing worthy social reforms and constant improvement of one's mind whilst being happily married," he reasoned gently, trying one last ditch effort to turn her mind towards matrimony and family. "My dear mother, for example, is very dedicated to the affairs of Pemberley and its environs. The local schools and hospitals in Lambton and Kymton, which my parents established, do require her active involvement. Her commitment to such endeavours have not prevented her from being the most devoted wife and the best of mothers throughout the years."
"My Aunt Elizabeth is truly a rare treasure," declared Isabella with admiration.
"Perhaps her great fortune is also in her choice of husband," added Alexander. "My father shares her concerns and aspirations wholeheartedly. He is her willing partner and staunch supporter in every endeavour."
Isabella regarded Alexander thoughtfully. She had no doubt that he was speaking strictly of his own father's merits, and did not intend any hidden meanings or ulterior motives within his words. However, he was so striking like his own father - arguments in his own favour could be easily put forth with such testimony!
She refrained from making any remarks, and he let the moment passed.
"I am leaving for Ridgemont tomorrow," he said quietly, already regretting that he had to leave the pleasantry of her company.
"I can no longer delay my return. I have hired an engineer - formerly of her Majesty's Royal Corp of Engineers - to design and build a system to solve our dire problem of . . ." He hesitated, worried that such mundane and unsavory subjects would be too much for the delicacy of her ears, but decidedly rightfully that she was one who would not be squeamish about such matters.
". . .yes, our dire problem of treating waste. We do have a substantial population at Ridgemont. I wish to address the problem before the onset of autumn and winter."
"You have so many pressing matters, great and small, to resolve! The welfare of so many people rest in your capable hands!" she said with admiration.
"I am not a fair judge of my own capabilities," he replied modestly. "I am simply performing my assigned duties and hoping to fulfill the expectations of so many, especially that of my father."
"You value his esteem so dearly. I believe he is extremely proud of you," she smiled at him reassuringly.
He nodded thoughtfully, and turned to look at her solemnly.
"I cherish your esteem as much," he confessed earnestly. He reached over boldly to take her gloved hand in his. He took a deep breath, and spoke to her plainly.
"Whatever the future may hold, Isabella, I beseech you - please accept my abiding friendship! Please consider me your truest friend, one as dear to you as my sister Lizzy. Do you . . . allow it?"
"I do," she replied with equal sincerity, meeting his gaze steadily. "Thank you!"
The sound of the first two words, spoken in her clear voice, rendered such a tumultuous reaction in his heart.
If only her utterance of "I do" carried the true potential and significance - as in those words spoken in a marriage vow!
He was, nevertheless, reasonably content with the current situation between them. They had established a new camaraderie between them, and she had embraced his abiding friendship. Sooner or later, he could advance to the next step beyond platonic love.
His family motto had become a firm oath for him: Vincit qui patitur.
Chapter 19: Summer Visitors at Ridgemont
"Look, sir," exclaimed Jacob Bokins as he pointed to the approaching carriage; "We have visitors!"
Alexander Darcy put down the heavy sledgehammer, and wiped the sweat off his brow. His curiosity was perked. They seldom had visitors at Ridgemont, and it was an unfamiliar chaise and four.
The large carriage came to a halt, and the occupants alighted from it with obvious excitement.
"Alexander!" exclaimed Anthony Knightley as he strolled forward to seize Alexander's hand eagerly. His pretty bride followed closed behind.
"Anthony! Margaret!" Alexander laughed merrily. "What in heaven's name are you doing here in Northumberland? I thought you were on your honeymoon!"
"We were! We had the most fabulous time," said Anthony with the brightest grin. Margaret blushed most becomingly.
"And now, my dear husband is making a tour of the coal mines in the region," explained Margaret as she came forward to give Alexander an affectionate kiss in greeting. "I find that I cannot bear to be deprived of his company, so I am traveling with him."
"Leg-shackled completely, as you can see! It is a delightful fate I heartily wish upon you, my old friend!" remarked Anthony mirthfully before he explained the true reason of their visit. "I shall be making new legislative proposals for labour reforms, and I need solid facts to back up my position. It is vital that I see the conditions of the mines and the workers with my own eyes. I expect very heated debates in Parliament."
Alexander nodded thoughtfully. He was about to make a comment about the Corn Law when the sight of Isabella, Emily, Henry, and his own sister Lizzy alighting from the carriage arrested his immediate attention. The young women were engaged in earnest conversation, but Lizzy broke off and rushed forward to greet her brother.
"Oh, Alexander!" she laughed, her fine dark eyes danced with merriment as she embraced him. "I hardly recognized you! I thought Anthony was talking to a very handsome miner - a veritable Adonis!"
"Well, I am very sorry to disappoint you then," laughed Alexander in return. His youngest sister always put him in a light-hearted mood with her good-natured teasing.
He looked expectantly over Lizzy's shoulder, and waited for the others to join them. He never thought to see Isabella Bingley here in Ridgemont, and suddenly, he felt rather embarrassed by his own disheveled appearance. He could not very well try to button up his shirt or comb his hair when she was within a few feet of him.
"Good afternoon, Isabella, Emily, Henry!" said Alexander, as he bowed rather formally - an effort to make up for his lack of formal attire. "How are you?"
"We are all well, thank you!" smiled Emily Bingley before she ran ahead to join Lizzy. Emily had always felt a bit intimidated by her formidable cousin, and it was no exception this time.
"Hello, Alexander," said Isabella cordially as she joined him. He smiled exclusively at her for a moment before he turned to Henry Bingley, and said, "Are all of you are travelling together in this fact discovery mission of coal mines in the Pennines?"
"Since my grand tour of the Continent has been delayed yet again - this time by your brother's impending wedding - I decided to come along for the ride," said Henry as he shook hands with him. "I am the vigilant chaperone and stalwart protector of these fine young ladies!"
"Well, our final destination is the Lake District in Cumberland," explained Anthony Knightley. "My original plan was for my wife to travel with her family, ahead of me, to meet the rest of the Knightley clan for our annual visit to Keswick. But my sweet Margaret insisted on joining me on this northeastern detour, and her siblings expressed the same inclination as well."
Alexander regarded his sister Lizzy with a quizzical look. She was neither a member of the Bingley nor the Knightley clan.
"Our cousins very kindly invited me to join them - seeing that I was dying to see you and these mines which I heard so much about. I have Papa's and Mama's permission, of course!"
"Indeed," confirmed Anthony Knightley, "although I must add that the ladies are visiting Ridgemont only. Mr. Darcy insisted that all other mines are neither safe nor proper for ladies to visit. I am travelling on with Henry to visit the other mines after these ladies are safely on their journey westwards to Keswick."
"I absolutely agree with my father," said Alexander.
"Furthermore, we do have an entourage of maids and valets with us. Along the way, we have already visited Durham Cathedral and the new Durham University. We left our servants behind at Bittle's Inn in the village."
Alexander shook his head in amusement at Anthony's words. "You sound like a quartermaster of General Fitzwilliam's army - with a much more daunting task! Marching through various counties and shires - from London to Northumberland - with petticoats and sundry luggage in tow!"
Anthony Knightley laughed heartily - nothing much could unsettle this competent young MP.
Introductions were made. Jack Goodwin and the two foremen -Bodkins and Brown - stepped forward rather awkwardly to meet this present company of fashionable ladies and gentlemen. Since the young Mr. Darcy had such obvious affections for the visitors, the miners were predisposed to have a kindly regard towards them as well. Furthermore, the terms "reforms" and "Parliament" were potent words of hope.
The visiting party expressed a collective wish to make a walking tour of the Ridgemont mines immediately. Alexander excused himself for a few minutes before they commenced their walk. He dashed into the overseer's lodge, and was back momentarily, wearing a clean shirt and a proper coat. He was busy tying his cravat, and his hair was wet - visible sign of a quick wash. He was still clad in his old riding breeches and muddy boots, but at least, for his upper torso, he was dressed as a gentleman.
He ran a hasty hand through his thick but unruly hair as he rejoined them.
Lizzy eyed him rather critical before she pronounced judgment.
"I think you look better the other way - years younger and vitally stronger - swinging that sledgehammer. Now. . . well, you look just like Papa."
Hearty laughter ensured.
"Like Papa?" repeated Alexander with a chuckle. "Thank you, Lizzy! I consider that the highest compliment."
"Oh, you are insufferable," complained Lizzy as she jabbed his forearm playfully. "You understand my meaning well!"
Alexander smiled tolerably at his sister, and gestured for everyone to follow him. The Knightleys walked by his side, and they were soon engaged in lively discussion. A second tidy group - Lizzy, Emily and the Bingley twins - found themselves in the company of Jack Goodwin. The assistant overseer was very eager to show the visitors all the great changes at Ridgemont.
"There are many coal mines in England, but Ridgemont is the best," proclaimed Goodwin with bravado. "I cannot begin to tell you how bad things were before the Darcys came here."
"You have great respect for the Darcys," remarked Henry.
"Yes, sir! Yes, I hold them in the highest esteem, especially Master Alexander!" exclaimed Goodwin. "He has a special place in all our hearts. One of the first kindly things he did for us was bringing a doctor from Durham to give all of us vaccinations - against the cursed smallpox and other illnesses I cannot even name! There were much protesting and crying against the doctor's ministrations, but Master Alexander kept such a jolly good cheer for the sake of the children. He made them laughed so hard that they did not mind the pain too much. For the adults, he simply told us that he preferred digging new wells and not new graves - at least those deaths that could be prevented by medicine and good doctoring!"
"I can well picture my cousin's face when he made such a declaration - always a man of succinct words!" remarked Henry Bingley.
"Yes, sir!" concurred Jack Goodwin respectfully. "Master Alexander is the most thoughtful and generous employer! Truly, the best of men! For Easter, he treated all of us to such a feast after church services! Food, drinks, presents! Games for the children! Master Alexander played his violin for us - it was like Christmas itself! We never had such a grand time in our lives! My Polly cried for joy - the feast made up for all the ones we never had before!"
"No celebrations prior to this Easter?" exclaimed Henry.
"Aye!" nodded Goodwin sadly. "Before the Darcys, we were like scums of the earth. The only treats we ever got from Lord Rodham's rotten overseer were sound whippings!"
"How horrible!" exclaimed Lizzy.
"Everything is different now, sir! There are no children working inside the mines, and everyone earns a fair wage. Our young Mr. Darcy sits at our table, plays with our children, and teaches us how to read and write. A man of iron discipline! He never meddles with any females here or carouse around. He works hard, drops into his bed exhausted every night, but he wakes up at dawn every day. He speaks to all the miners - man to man - without lordly disdain, and he treats all the women here as if they are proper ladies! Indeed, sir, just look at me! Master Alexander has taught me some goodly manners, and I no longer mangle the Queen's English with every word that I utter!"
They were all, indeed, very surprised to find such eloquence in the gruff giant of a miner.
Henry Bingley proceeded to strike up a lengthy conversation with Goodwin, and learned more about Ridgemont and its people. Lizzy Darcy listened with pride as the assistant overseer continued his endless praises of her brother. Emily Bingley was equally impressed.
Isabella Bingley was engrossed in deep thought. As long as she could remember, the people around her - family, relations, friends, and even the servants - had always sang high praises of Alexander Darcy. At times, she was unsure whether her cousin was truly such a paragon of manhood, or whether his family had pinned so much of their hopes upon him that they were speaking more of their aspirations rather than the truth of the man himself.
The words of Jack Goodwin proved profoundly significant. In Isabella's mind, the assistant overseer of Ridgemont gave a truer testimony of Alexander's worthy character than all the combined praises she had ever heard before!
She looked ahead of her tidy group, and gazed upon Alexander Darcy with fresh eyes.
It was bewilderingly to find how different he seemed to her now! It was as if she truly saw him for the first time - seeing him beyond his devastatingly handsome looks and appreciating his true worth! Moreover, a great fluttering of her heart swiftly followed this first sight! Was this how her Aunt Elizabeth had felt when she first visited Pemberley and spoke to the housekeeper Mrs. Reynolds in regards to the Master of Pemberley?
She recalled her very recent tête-à-tête with her Aunt Elizabeth Darcy. Their talk had been honest and lengthy. She had confided to her aunt entirely, albeit with much embarrassment, but she admitted to all her private fears, doubts and mixed emotions . . .
She described at length to her aunt of the paradoxical way Alexander had behaved in her presence - his long indifference to her until the night of the Anniversary Ball. That memorable evening, he was attentive and eloquent. She could remember many moments of levity and self-effacing humour in him. His brooding nature had returned subsequently. He would gaze at her intensely and spoke in his habitual curt manner. That fateful day under the Great Tree, he had been of ease and friendliness again, and she had thought that they were approaching a new level of affinity until he kissed her so unexpectedly!
That one long kiss - so filled with promised hopes, with such strangely new but maddening passions - had been the pivotal point the direction their respective lives had taken since. She knew now that she was half in love with Alexander when she allowed his kiss, but his subsequent denial of feeling no more than "artistic appreciation for her classical beauty" had squashed any warmer sentiments she might have felt for him. How insulted she had felt, and how incensed she was when she believed him to be such a cad!
Alexander's conduct since the Knightleys' wedding had been exemplary. His thoughtful gesture with the white rose, his rescue of her from the obnoxious Lord Braunfield were clear signs of gallantry. She could well guessed his physical attraction towards her, as well as his unspoken intentions, but he had refrained from exploiting their budding friendship. At their last tête-à-tête under the moonlight, he had spoken with such candor, but he never mentioned the word "courtship!"
"Such an enigmatic man!" she had complained to her aunt.
Isabella was, in turn, amazed when Aunt Elizabeth confided in her the truth of her own rocky path to true love with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy! It was an incredible tale, and Isabella was surprised to learn that this happiest couple in the world had their fair share of suffering, had faced so many obstacles, and had overcome such awful misunderstandings and prejudices to achieve a truly blissful union . . .
"Long after I realized Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's true character, I was still indifferent to him in my heart," Aunt Elizabeth had confessed. "It was at Lambton, after receiving the news of my sister Lydia's elopement, did I realize that I was truly in love with him. I finally listened to my own heart at the precise moment when all love between us seemed impossible!"
The truest and deepest love, however, proved triumphant in the end for the couple, and their connubial happiness had been the object of such admiration by the multitude.
"Listen to your heart, my dear Bella!" Aunt Elizabeth had advised her sagely, but had refrained graciously from overtly promoting the merits of her oldest son. "Reason and logic are extremely vital, but you cannot ignore the ultimate source that makes us all human!"
Isabella was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not pay heed to Jack Goodwin's warning about the slippery slope they were treading upon. Lizzy clung onto Emily, who in turn, had grasped Henry's left arm. Isabella, however, failed to do the same with her twin brother's right arm. She missed a step, and found herself tumbling down the slope.
Before Isabella could shout for help, she heard a rush of heavy footsteps upon the gravel, and found herself falling directly into the open arms of Alexander Darcy!
She did not know how he had come to her rescue so fast, and it was out of embarrassment rather than the pain of a sprained ankle that she cried out, "Oh, I am such a clumsy fool!"
To what he replied, most urgently, "Are you hurt?"
His strong arms remained around her as he helped her to regain her balance.
"Nothing to signify," she answered in the deepest blush, resisting the great urge to rest her face against his broad chest. "I think I suffer only a light sprain."
By this time, everyone in the party had crowded around them, voicing their deep concerns at the same time. Alexander Darcy, accustomed to command, took charge of the situation immediately.
"I shall take Isabella back to the lodge, and Mrs. Goodwin can attend to her ankle. Our tour of Ridgemont is but half done, so if there is no objections, Mr. Goodwin can carry on as your guide."
A brief discussion brought a mutual consent, and the rest of the party resumed their walk with their enthusiastic guide.
Isabella attempted to walk, but her sprain was worse than she had anticipated.
Seeing the grimace on her face, Alexander said simply, "Please, Isabella! Please allow me to help you."
As she nodded her consent, he scooped her up effortlessly into his arms, and carried her towards the overseer's lodge.
The sight of the young Mr. Darcy carrying such an elegant lady in his arms soon drew a large crowd. Most of the Ridgemont children followed them in excited laughter, and a couple of bolder ones danced alongside Alexander.
"Sir, where are you taking the beautiful lady?" inquired young Timmy Goodwin, his freckled face held the broadest grin. His two front teeth were missing.
"Is the princess your wife, sir?" asked Sally Brown in a loud whisper. "She must be a princess because she is so beautiful!"
The words from the months of innocent babes, thought Alexander bemusedly.
Little Sally, remembering her manners all of a sudden, stopped and gave Isabella a very proper curtsey. Alexander had paused in his stride to admire Sally's good manner, and Isabella acknowledged the little girl with a cheery smile.
"No, Sally, she is my cousin. Now, Timmy, run ahead and tell your mother that this lovely lady is hurt, and I shall require assistance at my lodge."
"Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" exclaimed Timmy with a jaunty salute before he ran off. Alexander smiled after him, and remarked, "A good, bright lad."
Isabella managed to look at Alexander's face, despite of her intense discomfort of being hold so closely once again in his arms.
"How did you come so quickly to my rescue? I saw you a good distance ahead of me before I fell."
"I hardly knew it myself," he chuckled softly as he looked down into her exquisite face. "I had turned around instinctively - just before you started to tumble forward - and I actually saw you missed a step. I took off running, and there you were. . ."
He left the sentence unfinished, but they both knew the last three words - "in my arms."
Both of them were suffering from intense embarrassment, and they would not speak again until they reached the lodge.
In the meantime, Isabella carefully averted her eyes from his face, and stared at his cravat instead. She stole a glance at him now and then, and felt fortunate that he did not catch her doing so!
Alexander inhaled each breath deeply as he strode towards the lodge. It was not due to physical exertion, for she was pleasingly light, but he simply wanted to savour the intoxicating closeness of her. Her head was so close to his cheek that some loose strands of blond hair peeping out of her bonnet wafted against his cheek, and he felt all his senses heightened to a new level by her fragrant scent of rose water.
Isabella was secretly enjoying the sensation of the closeness as well. Alexander smelled of shaving soap, leather, very faintly of sweat and coal dusts - it was a raw masculinity seldom found in fashionable drawing rooms. His face was so close to hers that she noticed tiny details - his dark eyelashes were very thick and long; the scar near his temple (a souvenir from his cave-in accident) was rather deep but did not disfigure him in any way; and with every breath he exhaled, there was a refreshing scent of spearmint in the air.
"Such irrelevant details! All entirely of little or no consequences!" was the stern rebuke that leapt into her mind as she admonished herself out of habit.
Yet, she felt a definite feminine giggle welling up inside her at the same time. Indeed, she felt rather light-headed, and reasoned that she had too much exposure to the sun. As she allowed her head to rest momentarily upon his taut chest, she could fairly hear his rapid heartbeats.
Mrs. Goodwin stood ready at the door, with herbal remedies, cotton bandages, a washbasin, and a pot of hot tea already on table inside.
Alexander carried Isabella over the threshold, and placed her very gently upon his chair. He made a courteous introduction between the two women, gave his hands a quick wash before he set about to examine her injury.
"With your permission, Isabella," he said formally before he touched her ankle. Mrs. Goodwin was skilled at tending to injuries, but he decided to trust his beloved Isabella to none other than himself.
Isabella nodded her consent silently, still keeping her eyes averted. She was aware of the many pairs of curious youthful eyes peering in from the numerous windows of the lodge, and she heard stifled giggles and excited murmurs amongst the growing crowd of children outside.
Alexander seemed oblivious to everything except the present task at hand.
He knelt down before her, removed her shoe very gently, and carefully probed her ankle with his nimble fingers. Satisfied that she had suffered only a sprain and no broken bones, he took out his pocketknife to cut away her silk stocking in order to put an herbal poultice on her ankle to reduce the swelling.
He glanced at her, and sought her consent silently with an earnest look in his dark eyes. It was too delicate a question to ask a lady to remove her stocking! She gave an almost undetectable nod, and he proceeded with prodigious care.
By this time, Mrs. Goodwin had given chase to the children standing outside. They dispersed quickly, running into all directions with squeals of laughter.
"Begging your pardon, Miss Bingley!" said Mrs. Goodwin. "The children meant no harm. They are very excitable, and they adore our Mr. Darcy. Indeed, the young master here can never walk around Ridgemont without a group of children trailing after him."
Isabella smiled at Mrs. Goodwin's frank remarks. She could not quite picture Alexander, ever so stern and serious, putting up with a large group of rambunctious children all the time. Yet, she had just witnessed such a happy scene moment's ago.
Would she ever cease to find out more amazing things about Alexander Fitzwilliam Darcy?
She stared at him whilst he attended to her injury in silent concentration. She marveled at the strength and the gentleness of those large hands - made strong and coarse by hard manual work, but were so supple and skillful that they could coax such splendid music out of the piano and the violin, and rendered such lovely images on canvas.
Myriad images and fond remembrances flooded her mind as she continued to observe him. She recalled how patient he was towards their vexing grandmother, how he had looked at her during Margaret's wedding, how he had tried to comfort her when he thought she needed him, and how he had stripped the thorns off the stem of the white rose before he presented it to her. . .
She finally realized, in those quiet moments when he was doctoring her injured ankle, that such a sensitive and considerate man could never be the cad he had claimed to be. He would never have trifled with the feelings of any unsuspecting females, or bestow kisses of such intimacy upon her without harboring genuine affections.
Most importantly, at their last parting, when he offered her his abiding friendship, did his words not carry a much deeper significance? She had been unfair to him, but she had not been unduly worried about his welfare until this moment!
How long had she tried his saintly patience?
Her thoughtful gaze was now upon his sun-bronzed face. Since he was completely preoccupied with bandaging her ankle, she took full advantage of the situation, and indulged herself with a careful study of him. He had a very distinguished profile, much like his father's, but his jaw line was stronger and his features more chiseled. His dark eyes were his mother's - Isabella first realized their mesmerizing effect when she gazed up at him during their first waltz. She now recalled the luster in his eyes whenever he smiled at her.
Was it that splendid, endearing smile - so rare upon his serious face - that first intrigued her?
Keenly aware that Isabella was making a discreet observation of his person and of her surroundings, Alexander was very methodical in his care of her injury. He dared not allow himself to linger on - his deft touch was not a moment longer than it was required. He was nearer to losing his iron discipline than he let on, for he wished for nothing more in the world than sweep her back into his arms, declare his undying love, and never to let her go.
He leapt to his feet before his emotions overcame him.
If he were to have any chance of winning Isabella's heart, he could not rush at her like a mad savage, he sternly berated himself. Did he not learn a lesson from their passionate kiss under the Great Tree at Pemberley? He would win her heart with patience and fortitude.
"There! You should be fine until we can summon a doctor here," said Alexander reassuringly. He remained close by her side, ready to render further assistance if required.
"There is no need to summon a doctor," replied Isabella as she wiggled her bandaged ankle gingerly. "Thank you very much, Alexander. My ankle already feels much better. I think my pride suffers a greater bruise than my poor ankle."
She laughed lightly as she continued, "I was wool-gathering when I fell. A foolish accident that could very well be avoided."
"The slope was rather treacherous," he confirmed.
As much as he wished that she did not suffer injury of any kind, Alexander could not help but be thankful that she did tumble directly into his arms.
Now, he thought contently, he had a new memory to build his dreams upon!
No sooner than such a thought came into his mind did he curse himself for being a fool. Fanciful dreaming alone would not win him Isabella's heart. With Mrs. Goodwin fussing over them, they did not have a chance for private conversation. Isabella was grateful for their attentive chaperone, for she was far too embarrassed by the turn of events thus far.
Isabella found that she could scarcely keep her eyes off Alexander Darcy!
She was never more aware of his riveting presence than at that moment. She wondered why it had taken her so long to realize that she could find happiness and true love with this best of men! It was rather bewildering to think that she had not considered him in such a favourable light before! The entangled web of emotions these many months had put her on the defense against unwelcome amorous advances, and had blinded her to this truly meritorious man.
She glanced up at him, and found him looking at her steadily. Their eyes met for a mutually embarrassed moment before they both averted their own gaze. He cleared his throat nervously, turned silently away from her, and occupied himself with stacking the papers on his long desk into neat piles.
His mind was scrambling madly for a suitable topic of conversation. How did one go about courting a young woman who was so determined to be "on the shelf?"
Isabella managed to disengage her eyes from Alexander for the moment. She looked around the room, and saw that it was an office - kept in a very clean and orderly manner. Beyond the open door nearby was Alexander's bedroom. She could see that it was rather small, and very Spartan in its furnishings. A single bed, a leather armchair, stacks of books, and a wooden easel for painting were all that she could see as comforts of home. The bedroom seemed to be neatly kept, except for a soiled shirt thrown over the washbasin - a reminder of his hasty wardrobe change earlier.
She smiled inwardly with fond recollection. Lizzy was correct in her assessment - Alexander did look far better as a rugged miner.
She also saw something in his bedroom that surprised her. Aside from the small wooden cross hanging on the wall over his bed, only one other wall in the bedroom seemed to be decorated. This wall was covered with squares of parchment - charcoal, ink, and pencil drawings of faces - mostly of children, but also some larger composition of families as well. In the center, there was a large sketch of the entire Darcy family - a reminder of his beloved family in this stark, temporary home of his.
Alexander followed her gaze, and explained, "I took your advice, Isabella. I started drawing portraitures of people instead of landscapes. It has been a rather daunting challenge, but I am getting better at it."
"May I take a closer look?" she asked politely.
"Yes, of course," he replied, happy that she was interested in his work.
This time, however, she got up on her own. He extended his hand to assist her, and she held onto to it as she limped across the room to stand in front of the drawings.
He pointed randomly at them, and continued, "Those ones there were my earlier attempts. This one here is my latest work. All these drawings will be my gifts to the people here at Ridgemont. My only regret is that I do not have the time to render each of these into individual oil paintings."
Mrs. Goodwin observed the two with discreet but real interest. She thought so highly of the young Mr. Darcy that she had believed there was no one good enough for him. Mrs. Goodwin was glad to be wrong - for such a lady was here, standing within an arm's reach of the young master, and it was obvious that he was besotted with love!
It seemed that the young lady harboured warm sentiments towards the young Mr. Darcy as well, thought Mrs. Goodiwn as she said a silent prayer for the young couple. If anyone ever deserved true happiness, it was Master Alexander.
A keen student of art, Isabella examined each drawing carefully, commenting on the composition and drawing techniques. The influence of the Italian Baroque Masters was evident. As talented as he was in his artistic works, she was more impressed by his evident familiarity with his subjects.
Alexander knew the names, and even the ages, of all the children on the portraitures. He recounted their personal anecdotes so that they became real people for her instead of drawn images. She learned that it was only last night that Timmy Goodwin lost his second front tooth, and that young Sally Brown wished for nothing better than to go to London and make a curtsey to Her Majesty the Queen! They shared a hearty laugh over these simple but amusing tales, and Isabella marveled at how his dark eyes twinkled with obvious pleasure. These humble folks of Ridgemont were his friends!
His drawings of mothers and their infants were exquisitely fine - the essence of maternal devotion admirably captured on parchment. She clearly saw his genuine care and respect for people, and she had never felt prouder of him than at this moment.
Alexander was, likewise, glad to talk about such general matters. He cared not what the subject was as long as Isabella was standing close to him. He would have find it exceedingly charming even if she only spoke about paint pigments all day long!
The subject of art proved to be a safe one to dwell upon, given their heightened emotional state. After a while, she even managed a gentle tease.
"In the drawing of your family, you have rendered the Darcy men more heroic than they seem!"
"Yes," he laughed softly, "and I did not do justify to the true beauty of my dear mother and sisters. There is something elusively enchanting about my mother that I have failed to capture here - a certain look in her eyes perhaps - one can easily feel it when in her presence. It is the same complain my father have made in regards to the formal portraits of my mother done by different Royal Academy painters throughout the years."
"My Uncle Darcy is not overly upset, I presume," Isabella laughed mirthfully, "because he always has the original subject close by his side."
"Very true," agreed Alexander as he gazed at Isabella, wondering if he would ever be as fortunate to have her close by his side, instead of the precious charcoal drawing well preserved in his leather portfolio.
They talked on easily for a long while - mainly on the newly established Durham University, the many historical sites, and other points of interest in the region - before the rest of the visiting party rejoined them at the lodge. There was much excitement and boisterous talking, as everyone in the party tried to be the first one to compliment Alexander for his impressive work at Ridgemont.
The new Mrs. Knightley finally took charge.
"We dearly hope that you can join us for supper at the village inn," she said cordially to Alexander.
"Thank you! I shall be delighted," he replied.
At the corner of his eye, he could see that Isabella seemed very pleased with his answer. His heart leapt with excitement - perhaps he would be able to sit next to her when they dined.