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Chapter 30
"I beg your pardon, sir, but there is a Miss Bingley to see you."
Darcy looked up wearily from his ledgers to meet his butler's sympathetic gaze. "I have been expecting this," he said dryly. "Show her in to the drawing room, then, Hayes." The butler bowed and went to fetch Miss Bingley from the vestibule. Darcy leaned back in his chair, passing his hand over his eyes. What more can the woman want from me?
He entered the drawing room to find Miss Bingley inspecting his sister's new painted table. "You wished to speak with me, Miss Bingley?" he asked curtly.
Miss Bingley started and turned, looking at him with a beseeching expression. "Oh, Mr. Darcy, I know that you declared you would not become involved, but he has gone too far, he truly has," she said earnestly.
"Your brother?"
"Yes! Charles has gone and proposed to that Bennet chit! He has proposed to her, Mr. Darcy! He will marry her!" Miss Bingley crossed the room and gripped Darcy's arm so tightly that he flinched.
Elizabeth, walking past the drawing room, heard the unmistakable tones of Caroline Bingley. Not wishing to eavesdrop, she prepared to pass on, but was arrested when she heard Caroline say,
"Charles is still angry with me for concealing Miss Bennet's presence in Town. He will not listen to anything I say, but he still respects you! Mr. Darcy, your influence would do so much good, and if you will only enumerate for him all the evils of such a match, how terrible are her connections, then this whole disaster will be averted and we shall be eternally grateful to you!"
Elizabeth, seething with anger and hurt, first at Miss Bingley's pronouncements and then at Mr. Darcy's silence, was quite willing to burst into the room and tell Caroline exactly what she thought of her, when she heard Mr. Darcy speak in cold, measured tones.
"I have told you once before, Miss Bingley, that I will no longer be involved in this intrigue you have plotted. I am duly ashamed of my role, and nothing you can say will induce me to take action. Charles is very well informed of Miss Bennet's social status and finances, and if he feels that these are a fair price to pay for the pleasure of her company, then I will not try to sway him."
"The pleasure of her company! She is all smiles and manners. She has deceived him, I tell you, and he will soon find himself trapped in a marriage with an ambitious, fortune-seeking butterfly. You know Jane Bennet, and..."
"I do know her, and I think her a young lady of extraordinary sweetness of temper, without a trace of deceit. I have yet to meet a Bennet who was not honest and open, and if Charles seeks only a compatible helpmate, I think he could not do better." These words were a surprise to everyone, including Darcy himself. It was true, he realized, that Charles Bingley had no desire to better himself through marriage: he only sought happiness. If Miss Bennet was the source of his happiness, no one had any right to attempt to dissuade him. "I will consider this conversation closed, Miss Bingley," he said with great finality in his voice.
Miss Bingley, it seemed, would not acknowledge the hint, however. In a low voice, she said, "I can see that you have been infected, as well."
Darcy turned a cold gaze on her. "I haven't the pleasure of understanding your meaning."
"Men!" the lady cried in disgust. "Are you really so blind? You have under your roof Elizabeth Bennet, and..."
"One word against Miss Elizabeth, and you will find yourself thrown out of the house," Darcy said menacingly. "She is a great friend of my sister and by her mere companionship has done more for Georgiana than all your cloying admiration and toadying speeches."
"How can you speak so?" Miss Bingley gasped. "I love your sister!"
For a moment, neither said a single word. Finally, Darcy said quietly, "Perhaps that may be so. That, however, is hardly the point. I have made it abundantly clear to you that I will do no more to separate your brother and Miss Bennet. I must insist that you importune me no farther on the subject."
Silence reigned again, and then Miss Bingley nodded her head shortly, murmured, "Good day," and swept out of the drawing room past Elizabeth. Elizabeth remained where she was, unable to think for all the conflicting thoughts circling inside her head. The first thought to surface was that Mr. Darcy had defended her, calling her Georgiana's great friend and asserting that Miss Bingley would be thrown from the house if she dared to speak ill of her. The soaring elation that accompanied this thought was soon doused when she remembered that he had admitted to taking an active role in separating her sister and Bingley. Before she could grow very angry, she recalled his refusal to involve himself in any more plots and his conviction of Jane's goodness, which led to a remembrance of his praise of her, and the cycle began again. In short, she was beginning to have a bit of a head-ache.
Before she could move away from the door, it opened again, and Mr. Darcy stepped out. He looked weary and thoughtful, and when he saw her, he closed his eyes painfully.
"I am afraid to ask," he said in a tone of thorough exhaustion, "how much of that conversation you heard, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth blushed and studied her hands. "Very nearly all of it, Mr. Darcy," she said quietly.
Darcy sighed and leaned against the doorframe, massaging the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "I believe I owe you an explanation and an apology," he said. "Please come in."
She hesitated, and then entered the room. He gestured to a chair in an invitation to sit, and she sank down, watching him as he paced in front of her. After a moment or two he took a seat near her and began.
"You must understand, Miss Bennet, the emphasis placed in our world on a good marriage."
Elizabeth interrupted him with an incredulous laugh. "You think that I, the second of five daughters of a gentleman with limited means, do not understand the importance of marriage?"
Darcy paused for a moment, considering, and then continued. "What many do not know is that the higher one's place in society, the less choice one has in that area."
"Please, Mr. Darcy, stop," Elizabeth said, holding up her hand as if to ward off his words. "If you brought me here only to treat me like an ignorant child and to try to excuse your behaviour towards my sister, it will not answer. Mr. Bingley's choice is just that: his, no matter what the unspoken, unwritten, and completely unjustified laws of society may say."
Under ordinary circumstances, Darcy might have taken offence to this outburst, but as he had so little desire to argue with her, he merely said, "I was not attempting to justify my behaviour, Miss Bennet. I was explaining why I thought it my duty to 'teach' Charles the ways of our world, and do not imagine for one moment," he said quickly as she opened her mouth to speak, "that I do not recognize my error in so doing. He is a full-grown man, and I should have let him alone and not tried to force him to abide by my own principles."
This gave Elizabeth pause, and before she could fully comprehend all the implications in that statement, he continued.
"I did indeed persuade him that your sister did not love him as he loved her, and would have preferred to conceal from him her presence in town. Because of my dear sister, I was unsuccessful, and I must confess myself glad that she interfered when she did. I was making myself into a despicable monster, determined to force my own beliefs of a marriage of equality onto him. It was completely wrong, and I do hope that you can forgive me for causing your sister such pain."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment before replying, "I am sure I will seem unpardonably rude, Mr. Darcy, but what, exactly, are your criteria for a 'marriage of equality'? In disposition, feelings, and values I believe my sister and Mr. Bingley to be as equal as any two people can be." When he did not answer immediately, she said, "Unless, of course, you base your judgment of equality on social and financial matters."
He sighed. "There are many differences, you must see that."
"Certainly, but none that matter to their happiness."
"Unfortunately, some cannot always think only of their own happiness. Some have obligations to their family and honour, and may have to choose an equal match over a happy one. In the eyes of the world, the match between your sister and my friend is very unequal: he has a sizable fortune and is from a higher social order. She - well, her fortune is not large and she moves in entirely different circles. The situation and manners of your family..."
"Say nothing against my family, sir, for I will not hear them insulted," Elizabeth snapped, her temper rising. "Perhaps we are not rich or titled, but we are wealthy in the things that matter. My mother may be a fool, but she loves us all with an intensity that many of your society ladies never pretend to possess. My father may be a little negligent, but he is intelligent and has talents that even you cannot scorn. It is true that neither I nor any of my sisters received any formal education, but we were raised in an atmosphere of love, and encouraged to be ourselves and to speak or minds, and that is worth the greatest fortune one could possess! We are lacking in many things, but at least we, unlike you and your precious ton, judge a man for who he is rather than what his father did or the size of his fortune. At least, sir, we know that money cannot replace character, and that connections cannot replace love!"
Darcy rose to his feet, looking stern. "When you have lived in the world as long as I have, Miss Bennet..."
"Do not lecture me about the world as if I were a child," Elizabeth interrupted scornfully. "The more I see of your 'world', the more I am dissatisfied with it, and I know that you do not approve of it either. Was it not you who said that you had tried to shelter Georgiana from the evils of society? If you hate this 'world' so much, why not fight against it? Why not act upon principles that you know are right, rather than silently following the flock like a mindless sheep? You despise the machinations of your own class, and do nothing but hide and hope it will all change one day! Heaven forbid that you, or that anyone, should be an individual human being, rather than one unit of a ridiculous social system!" Elizabeth dashed the tears from her eyes with one hand and, turning, walked to a window and stared unseeingly out at the streets.
Darcy did not quite know how to respond. He turned his face away to hide the conflict of emotions playing across it. Anger, guilt, self-disgust chased themselves around and around his brain.
"I had expected better of you," Elizabeth said, in a voice that was nearly a whisper. "I thought, when you permitted Georgiana to associate with me, that you could see beyond the conventions of society and see me for who I was. I thought that you approved of me, perhaps liked me. I see that I was wrong. I have been, perhaps, a source of amusement for you and the rest of the ton."
Darcy stiffened. He had hurt her; he could hear the pain in her voice, which was quickly regaining strength. He took a step towards her, wishing that he could assure her that he did, in fact, like her far more than he should, more than he had ever expected to. He knelt beside her chair and said hoarsely,
"I beg of you, Miss Bennet, to forgive me. I do not, nor have I ever, considered you an object of obscene amusement. You must not imagine for one moment that such has ever been my intention. I must admit that you are something of an enigma to me, as well as to the entirety of London. Your honesty, your openness, your joy of life - they are not things one often meets with in ton society."
"Which is a depressing view of society, is it not?" Elizabeth asked with a kind of smile.
"Perhaps so. Forgive my slight, Miss Bennet. I was unpardonably rude."
"You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy. I hope you will not take too much offence to the things I have said."
There was, Darcy noted, no hint of apology for her statements. With a wry smile, he replied, "Offence? I shall most probably think of this conversation for some time, but I am not offended. Are we friends?"
Elizabeth smiled, and took his outstretched hand. "Friends." She rose to leave. When she neared the door, she hesitated and then turned and approached him again. "I forgot," she said meekly, "to thank you for defending my sister to Miss Bingley. I am very grateful."
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "No thanks are necessary, Miss Bennet." As he rose from his bow, he saw her look undecided, biting her lip delicately as if unsure of herself, and then resolutely she pulled very slightly on his hand, and he bent towards her again.
Gently she pressed the softest of kisses onto his cheek, said quietly, "Thank you," and left the room so quickly that she seemed a blur. Stunned, Darcy placed his fingers on the place where her lips had touched him, and realized, with a deadly certainty, that he had fallen in love with Elizabeth Bennet.
Chapter 31
With shaking fingers, Darcy reached for the decanter of port on the mantelpiece and poured a little into a glass. How long, he wondered wearily, have I loved her? How long had she had such complete control of his heart that a mere kiss on the cheek could all but bring him to his knees? How long had his first thoughts in the morning and his last thoughts in the evening been of her?
This was not, he knew, a foolish infatuation based on her beauty. She was much more than a pretty face and an elegant figure; she was - Elizabeth. She was open, joyful, sympathetic, compassionate, intelligent, witty, and loving. She challenged him and fulfilled him, drove him mad and soothed his senses, awakened in him feelings which he had long forgotten he possessed.
He laughed shakily, passing a hand through his hair. What in the name of Heaven was he to do? Such emotions were beyond the narrow scope of his experience, and he considered what she had said only moments before: that a marriage of convenience could not compare with a marriage of love. He thought, as he had before, of a marriage with his cousin Anne and saw himself perhaps wealthier, but unhappy and lonely. When he pictured a marriage with Elizabeth, the prospect nearly took his breath away. And yet ... her family, her connections ... his warring emotions and thoughts swirled into his head until he thought that he must surely go mad.
Jonathan stood nervously outside of the Darcy Townhouse. He had come to see his sister, he reminded himself, not her friend. Georgiana was delicate, and would probably not welcome his suit even if he were in a position to offer it. He gave his name to the imposing butler and was shown into a small drawing room. Soon afterwards, Elizabeth came into the room, looking tired but cheerful.
"Jonathan! It seems an age since I last saw you!" She kissed his cheek and sat beside him. "Jane wrote me of her engagement. How delightful!"
"It is indeed. They are becoming positively sickening, the way they coo and bill like a pair of turtledoves. I had to escape - I began to feel slightly ill whenever I was forced to be in the same room."
Elizabeth smiled, but understood his jesting for what it was. "Has Papa's answer come yet? Surely he could overcome his disgust of writing for such a cause."
"I am rather afraid that Bingley's letter will be answered by our mother's arrival, to speak the truth. Her first daughter married! She will be beside herself."
"In truth, I hope not," Elizabeth said gravely. "Two of our mother would send the steadiest nerves into a flutter."
Jonathan laughed. "You are enjoying yourself, Lizzy? They are treating you well here?"
"Oh, of course! Georgiana is the sweetest little hostess that could be desired - though I daresay I needn't praise her to you, Jon," she added with a twinkle in her eye.
Jonathan cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Yes, well ... what of Mr. Darcy?"
Elizabeth blushed and looked away. "He is everything that is kind and attentive."
Her brother stared at her for a few moments, and then he smiled so widely that Elizabeth thought, and rather hoped, that his face would split in two. "Kind and attentive, is he? Nothing more?"
"Do not be ridiculous, Jon," Elizabeth hissed, her face nearly scarlet. "There has been nothing..."
"You cannot fool your brother, Lizzy. You like him, admit it!"
"I do like him," she answered quietly. "I do not see how anyone could not like him, once they truly know him. He can be ... infuriating, with his ideas of pride and society, but he is a good man all the same."
"A good man - and handsome, is he not?"
"Of course he is; even you can see that, Jon. No one, not even his worst enemy, could argue against that."
"Come, come - I know perfectly well what has happened, so you may cease to generalize. You have fallen in love with him."
"Jonathan!" Elizabeth leapt to her feet and hurried to close the door. "Do keep your voice down! Do you want him to hear you?"
"Of course. The pair of you have been skirting the issue quite long enough - ever since November, if I may say so. When you came here for Christmas, I was certain things would come to a head, but as they haven't yet, why can I not move them along a little?"
"Because - because he is not in love with me!" Elizabeth said hastily.
"Nonsense, of course he is. He's been mooning over you - though I'm sure he would call me out if he ever heard me use such a phrase to describe him - ever since the first Meryton Assembly."
"Even if that were true, Jon - and it is not - he has said nothing to me, and I will certainly never say anything to him without encouragement."
"Elizabeth?" Georgiana's voice called. "Are you here?" The door opened and she stood framed in the doorway. Jonathan instantly rose to his feet, his face slowly flushing. Georgiana's eyes went from brother to sister. "I beg your pardon; I did not mean to intrude."
"You could never intrude, Georgie," Elizabeth said cheerfully. "Please join us."
Nervously Georgiana walked over and sat gingerly on the sopha beside Elizabeth. The most common inanities passed between the three of them until Elizabeth suddenly recalled a very pressing mission in another room of the house. Quickly, giving neither of them any opportunity to delay her, she left, leaving the door ajar so that Mr. Darcy would not grow suspicious.
After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, Georgiana made as if to rise, when Jonathan detained her.
"Miss Darcy, I beg you to allow me a moment."
Georgiana went very pale and sank back into her seat, clutching her trembling hands in her lap and studying them with great interest. "Please, Mr. Bennet, do not...that is, I do not wish to offend you..."
"Miss Darcy, please," Jonathan said. "I do not know what I have done to make you so wary of me."
Georgiana continued her examination of her hands, her colour rising slightly. "I - I am not frightened of you, Mr. Bennet."
"I can see that you are, Miss Darcy, and I only wish to tell you that I shall be no threat to you."
"Oh!" Georgiana looked up, seeming very embarrassed and a little hurt. "Then you do not - that is - you don't - well..."
"Care for you?" Jonathan smiled. "Miss Darcy, I doubt any man with a heart can meet you and not care for you. Yes, I do care for you, more than perhaps you know. But I know that you are young, and that your brother is very protective. In fact, if he knew of this conversation, no doubt he would have me thrown out."
She giggled a little at that.
"All I ask, Miss Darcy," Jonathan said, "is your friendship. Perhaps, in the future - but friendship must come first. Will you allow me to be your friend?"
Georgiana smiled for the first time since her entrance into the room. "I should like it above anything, Mr. Bennet."
"She is staying in the house with him, sir. I have heard talk among the servants, and they say they have never seen him so smitten with a young lady before."
"Has she many admirers in London?"
"Oh, scores of them, sir. However, she is not very fond of them."
"Damn. She did not even like Foxworthy?"
"Apparently she treated him as politely as one would a very tiresome sycophant."
There was a grinding of teeth. "I told him to be as charming as possible."
"Oh, he was, sir - there are many who think that she returns Mr. Darcy's affections."
"Well, if she is not to be lured away, I suppose I must revert to simpler measures. Perhaps this will answer better - I will be able to acquire the sister as well. The only question is when..."
"Oh, my darling Jane!" squealed her mother as she whirled into her brother's house, grasping Jane by the shoulders and kissing her soundly on the cheek. "You are more beautiful than ever, my wonderful girl! Why, you are positively radiant!"
Jane smiled. "Thank you, Mama. I am so happy!"
Mr. Bingley stood beside her, his face bedecked in smiles. "Hello, Mrs. Bennet."
"Oh, Bingley, you dear boy! You must call me Mother now, you know. You are very welcome to the family indeed! I knew how it would be - I knew that you could not both be such beautiful, good-natured people for nothing! When Lady Lucas congratulated me just the other day, she reminded me that I had told her how it would be, and see how wonderfully everything has turned out!"
Mr. Bennet's salutations were less verbose, but just as sincere, and his daughters had never seen him smile so much as when he kissed his eldest, or when he heartily shook his future son-in-law's hand. His greeting of Elizabeth and Jonathan was just as earnest, as he had missed his second daughter and his son exceedingly, and he laughed at Mrs. Gardiner, whose smile was quickly changing to an expression of barely suppressed horror as Bennet after Bennet trooped into her tiny drawing room.
"Do not look so terrified, Madeline," he said confidentially. "We have secured lodgings in a hotel, and would not dream of imposing on you to such a degree."
"You know you would be welcome, Thomas," was her answer, but the lines in her face relaxed considerably.
"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet when all the sisters had finished exclaiming over Jane and Bingley until Bingley looked extremely red in the face. "Jane, my dear, we must go shopping tomorrow - have you thought of a date?"
"We wish to be married as soon as possible, Mama," Jane said. "Perhaps the end of March?"
"Such a short engagement, my dear! However, it may all be for the best ... yes, certainly ... Mr. Bennet, is that not desirable?"
"Yes, yes, my dear, have her married as soon as you can."
"Now, then, Jane," Mrs. Bennet said, taking her eldest by the arm and steering her into the drawing room, followed by her sisters. "You know you look positively angelic in white, so I thought..."
As the chattering and giggling died down with the girls' departure, Messrs. Bennet, Bingley, and Jonathan all gave a collective sigh. Bingley looked as if he might be ill, and Mr. Bennet laughed.
"Come, come, man, you must develop a tolerance for these things. You have sisters yourself."
"Yes," Bingley replied with a weak smile, "but we generally avoid speaking to one another as much as possible."
Mr. Bennet looked around him. "I do not see your friend Mr. Darcy among us, or his sister. Did they wisely choose to stay at home?"
"Darcy was afraid he might be imposing, sir, and Miss Darcy - well, she is remarkably shy."
"So I recall, but she was not one whit less charming, for all that. Now, Bingley, my boy," Mr. Bennet said very gravely. "I do not think I have yet had a chance to express my congratulations to you. I sincerely believe you among the luckiest of men to have gained my Jane, and rest assured that if I did not think you would make her as happy as she deserves, I would never have given my consent. You are very welcome to the family, son, and I only hope you will find your wife worth the trouble."
Bingley, who had rather been fearing his first conversation with the family patriarch, was very much reassured. "I thank you, sir, and will do everything in my power to make Jane happier than even she deserves."
Mr. Bennet gave him a genuine smile that held no trace of sarcasm. "I believe you will."
Chapter 32
"Elizabeth, I have never seen you look so well," Mrs. Bennet said, eyeing her second daughter. "You are positively glowing. London must agree with you."
"I am enjoying myself, Mama, and Mr. Darcy and Georgiana are the kindest hosts one could wish for."
Mrs. Bennet looked as if she rather doubted this, but smiled slyly. "Have you seen ought of the famous Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
"I have, Mama, and he is a very good-humored, well-bred man."
"And you have not yet caught him?"
"Mama! I have no intention of 'catching' anyone, and besides, Col. Fitzwilliam does not strike me as a man who wishes for a wife."
"Posh, Lizzy, no man thinks he wants a wife until he finds the right woman. Look at Mr. Bingley! I am sure that when he came into Hertfordshire he did not plan on meeting your sister and falling in love with her."
"Well, then, he does not wish for me as his wife."
"Mama?" came Jane's voice from where she stood behind a screen, being measured. "Do come and look at this material!"
Mrs. Bennet obligingly bustled around the screen and looked at the flowing white satin, so smooth that it felt like water to the touch. "Oh, my dear, it is perfectly lovely! And with netting for a veil, and a little gold embroidery - you have just the complexion for this colour, Jane."
"Miss Bennet will look remarkably well," said the seamstress, Mrs. Wendell. "I daresay Mr. Bingley will be positively speechless."
"Let us hope he recovers himself in time to repeat his vows," Elizabeth said with a laugh.
The other women joined her.
"Now, which young lady is the maid of honour?" asked Mrs. Wendell when all the plans had been made for Jane's gown. Elizabeth stepped forward. "Well, white will not do for your complexion, and the bride must needs stand out at any rate. But I do have a beautiful ivory satin that will do very well, I think, with dark blue accents."
It was Elizabeth's turn to be fussed over and measured, and when all arrangements had been made, the difficult question of the bridesmaids' dresses arose. Jane had insisted that all three of her youngest sisters be bridesmaids, but Bingley had only named two groomsmen. Mr. Darcy, as the best man, was of course to escort Elizabeth - which circumstance was being looked forward to with a great deal of anxiety on both sides - and that left Mr. Hurst and Jonathan. Mary had agreed to being escorted by Mr. Hurst, as she had really very little opinion on the matter, but Kitty and Lydia now had to argue over their brother. Which sister would be forced to walk unescorted?
This subject, uninspiring as it may seem, had been canvassed between them almost ceaselessly since its introduction, and the discussion now began again. All three girls lined up beside each other as Mrs. Wendell held lengths of cloth up to them, attempting to find a colour and fabric that flattered all three. Mary stood stoically with an expression of long-suffering as Kitty and Lydia argued back and forth. Finally she cleared her throat loudly, and they both turned to look at her.
"Why do you not both walk with Jonathan? He has two arms." She then closed her mouth and looked straight ahead again. Her sisters studied her for a few moments, and then allowed it to be a very good plan, and for a few moments peace reigned.
Mrs. Wendell pulled out a length of light green cloth and held it up to each face, finally proclaiming victory. The bridesmaids' gowns were to be very simple, but measurements were still needed. While Mary was being fitted, Catherine wandered near her elder sisters and mother, who were discussing the seating of the guests. Mrs. Bennet was steadfastly insisting that the Colonel be placed near Elizabeth, while Elizabeth, with exasperation written in every line, continuously reminded her of the Colonel's condition as an absolute old bachelor. Kitty chose a pretty bonnet from a nearby hat-stand, put it on her head, and, idly playing with the ribbons, said clearly,
"Why do you not set your cap at Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?"
All conversation in the little shop ceased as her sisters and mother turned to stare at her with open mouths. Elizabeth felt her face reddening.
"Kitty, I have no intention of setting my cap at anyone."
"But you must, Lizzy, or you will never be married," was the practical answer, "and I think Mr. Darcy as good a man as any."
"How can you say that, Kitty!" exclaimed her mother. "We all know what sort of man he is - what an insufferable, proud disposition he has..."
"I will ask you, Mama, not to speak of him in such a way," Elizabeth said sternly. "He is nothing like what Mr. Wickham said - he is exactly the opposite, and he has been everything that is good, kind, and honourable while I have been here."
"You like him, you see?" Kitty said excitedly. "He is handsome and rich, to be sure, but if you like him, everything should be easy."
"Mr. Darcy will not even dance with her; he will certainly never stoop so low as to marry her!"
"He danced with her at Netherfield."
Mrs. Bennet grew silent, thinking of this. "So he did, but I am sure Lizzy did not enjoy it. He was silent throughout the dance, and when they did speak they both looked positively miserable. Still, I suppose it could not hurt, if he is not as disagreeable as dear Wickham insinuated, to have you try for him, Lizzy. But I would not get my hopes up, if I were you."
"I would not dream of it, Mama," Elizabeth replied, casting a pleading look at Jane, who quickly diverted their mother's attention, but with a glance that assured Elizabeth that there would be a thorough interrogation to be endured when they were alone.
"Perfect, Darce, I declare," Bingley exclaimed, laughing at his friend's uncomfortable expression as he stood being fitted for proper coat and breeches for the wedding. Darcy had never enjoyed buying new clothes, and it was no easier with four other men along - besides Bingley, Hurst, and young Bennet, Fitzwilliam had decided to join the party, and apparently only for the sake of tormenting Darcy. "I don't think anyone will notice me standing at the altar!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Bingley," Darcy said rather shakily.
"Now, you mustn't be harassing my poor cousin," Fitzwilliam said with a smile. "He'll have enough to endure standing up there with all those people in the congregation. He'll be plain terrified, mark my words."
"He was a regular post in Hertfordshire," said Hurst from his chair nearby. "Silent and deaf as one, with as much personality."
"You have a great deal of room to talk," Darcy said, glowering at the man who had spent half his time sleeping on sophas.
Hurst merely shrugged. "I, my friend, am already married. No one cares much for my deportment, you see, and I may do as I like."
"You enjoy drinking to the point of inebriation and sleeping everywhere you happen to rest?" Bingley said with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders into another coat.
"Who on earth said I was inebriated? And who can blame me for falling asleep in company such as I've had to endure?"
"I might take offence at that," Jonathan said, smiling wryly at his own reflection as his measurements were being taken.
"Nothing against your family, Bennet," Hurst said. "You all are the best of the lot."
"Never heard your opinion, Hurst," Bingley said, looking surprised. "Care to give it now?"
"Bit dangerous, don't you think, Bingley?" Hurst said with a wary glance at Jonathan. The others laughed.
"Very well," Bingley said, "but rest assured that I'll have your opinions at some point."
"I haven't heard of any plans for your ... er ... prenuptial festivities, Bing," Col. Fitzwilliam said, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
Hurst looked as if someone had breathed life into his lungs. He sat up, fully awake. "By Jove, I'd forgotten that! We should start making plans straight away!"
Bingley had blanched. "Plans? Plans for what?"
"I believe they are speaking of a centuries-old tradition, Bingley," Darcy sighed, stepping down from the pedestal before the large mirror.
"Do you mean ... no," Bingley said, sounding horrified. "Jane would be absolutely horrified."
"Who's to tell the dear lady?" Hurst said with a very broad grin. "I know that the ladies have their own traditions for such times as these. Why shouldn't we have our fun?"
"The ladies? They actually...?"
"Good heavens, no," Fitzwilliam exclaimed, looking horrified. "Their amusements are in keeping with their station, naturally."
"But if Jane were to hear ... she would be so very hurt ... and I have no wish to..."
"We'll keep it small, Charles, very small," Hurst said. "In fact, perhaps only the five of us."
"Yes, the five of us and the best French brandy we can lay our hands on," said the Colonel.
"What - no inclusion of the less delicate of the female species, Rob?" Darcy said wryly, collecting his hat and gloves as the others prepared to do the same. "Hardly worth your time, I would think."
"You will be joining us, eh, Darcy? I expect you'll be the next to leave the ranks of bachelordom," Hurst remarked as they passed out of the door.
"I've often thought, you know, Darcy, that you and Miss Elizabeth would get on well together," Bingley said eagerly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam choked back a laugh, covering it with a cough. "Yes, Fitz - Miss Elizabeth is a remarkable young woman."
"Plenty of spirit, I'll give her that," Hurst said grudgingly, "though she has the oddest taste in cuisine."
"Don't encourage him overmuch, gentlemen," Fitzwilliam said suddenly, his voice uncommonly soft. "Remember that Darcy's fate has been long decided. Our Aunt Catherine has seen to that."
Darcy sighed. "My future is far from determined, but it is high time that I marry."
"Hear, hear!" exclaimed Bingley.
"Still, that does not mean I wish to be continuously hounded on the subject," he glared at them all. "Why do not you two settle down," he demanded of Bennet and Fitzwilliam.
"I must confess that my heart is spoken for, Darcy," Bennet said with a smile that Darcy did not at all like. He was on the verge of asking on whom Bennet had bestowed his affections, but felt with absolute certainty that he probably did not want to know.
"Mea culpa; I fear I am in the same predicament," the Colonel murmured, suddenly refusing to meet Darcy's eyes. This earned an exclamation from the rest of the group, and everyone pressed him to reveal the name of the extraordinary woman who had captured his heart, but Fitzwilliam would say nothing further.
As Darcy had received a rather imperious missive from Lady Manchester, containing a thinly veiled command to take tea with her, he walked with Fitzwilliam to the Manchester Townhouse. If such a note had been pinned by Lady Catherine, Darcy would have felt much more resentment, but as Lady Manchester was his favourite aunt, he acceded to the demand with no ill feeling.
"You have decided to marry, Fitz?" the Colonel asked him quietly. "This is a recent development."
"I have not decided absolutely, and certainly not on a particular young lady. However, I regret to say that Lady Catherine was right last Easter, when she told me that I had a duty to my family."
"Yes, Fitzwilliam Darcy always follows his duty," Fitzwilliam said, sounding more than a little bitter. "Tell me, do you wish to travel to Kent alone this Easter, so that the thing may all be arranged?"
"What do you mean by that?" Darcy asked, eyeing his cousin with unrestrained wonder. "Good Lord, Rob, have I done or said something to offend you?"
"It's your deuced assurance, Fitz. Always assuming everything will fall into your lap - and, worse luck, it often does. If you want a wife, inevitably there must be one waiting for you, and, by Jove, our Aunt Catherine has one sitting by, and all you have to do is say the word and the poor young lady will be forced into a marriage with someone who sees her as a duty."
"I never mentioned Anne..." Darcy said, rather stunned at his cousin's sudden ferocity.
"It's plain enough, Darce. Will you make my excuses to my mother? I've just remembered an extremely pressing engagement."
"An engagement? Where?"
"With the devil!" was the acrid reply.
Darcy watched his cousin's departing back in complete confusion and then, shrugging, knocked at the Earl's door.
Chapter 33
"Has my son decided not to join us?" Lady Manchester asked when Darcy entered the room.
"He suddenly recalled a very pressing engagement," Darcy replied, kissing his aunt's cheek. "You look very well, Aunt."
"Thank you, my boy. How is Georgiana?"
"Growing livelier and more beautiful by the day."
"Skilled have been the hands," Lady Manchester sighed. "Your Miss Bennet is a treasure, Fitzwilliam."
Darcy reddened. "She is not my Miss Bennet, Aunt."
"Yet?" her ladyship asked with a sly smile.
"At all," Darcy said uncomfortably.
"We shall see," Lady Manchester said, ringing the bell for the tea service. "What business did my son have that required him to neglect his mother?"
"It is not, I know, truly business," sighed Darcy, taking a cup of tea from a servant. "He was angry about something - I must have said something amiss, though I hardly know what. I merely mentioned that I thought it high time that I married - said something about our Aunt Catherine's saying that it was my duty to do so..."
"Oh, dear," Lady Manchester said, setting down her cup hastily. "Did you mention Anne?"
"No, but he did - and that was when I realized how angry he was with me, but I am still at a loss as to determine why."
"Darcy, my boy, you are one of the most intelligent men I know, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you are terribly obtuse."
Darcy bristled. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't poker up so, child. My son has been in love with Anne de Bourgh for years, but has never had the nerve to say anything to her about it because of you."
"Because of me? I've never singled her out in any way..."
"Yes, but Catherine is so adamant that you should marry her - poor Robert is well aware that as only a younger son, she would be far less enthusiastic about his suit. You must have noticed how attentive he is to her"
Darcy sat as if in a daze. "Of course, but I thought he only paid attention to her to counteract my behaviour towards her."
"That was how it began, but Robert soon came to value her for herself. You can see, then, why the thought of your marriage upsets him. You have little interest in the women who surround you, and Anne is the only logical choice."
"But this is ridiculous," Darcy said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Rob, of all people, thinking that I mean to marry Anne! It is preposterous, really..."
"Why?" Lady Manchester asked hurriedly.
Darcy started, and then looked at his aunt warily. "You cannot think that we would suit."
"Not at all, but I thought there might be another reason - one that carries far more weight." He stared at her blankly. She sighed. "I speak, of course, of your attachment to another."
He blinked in surprise, and then blushed a deeper shade of red than Lady Manchester had ever seen on him. "How could you know? I never knew myself until only a few days ago, and yet..."
"I told you, Darcy, did I not? When it comes to love, you are hopelessly dim-witted. Everyone in London can see how smitten you are with Elizabeth Bennet. They need only watch your face when you talk to her, or see your eyes when you watch her dance. It is painfully obvious to even the most common-place observer."
"It is a wonder that Rob did not notice it, then," Darcy said, rather annoyed that his private emotions had been so on display.
"Of course he noticed, dear boy, but he also saw, as do many others, that you are as yet undecided as to what to do about this new feeling."
"I have thought it over," Darcy sighed, "and I find that there is nothing I can do about it. I know how I feel for her, but nothing can come of it."
"Does she love another? Has she pledged her faith to someone else?"
"Not that I am aware of," he replied, looking positively horrified at the thought.
"Then I do not see what could possibly stand in your way."
"Come, Aunt, you have only met the lady herself. You have no idea of her family. They have no real social standing or fortune, and her mother and younger sisters are deplorable. The world would scorn the match, and..."
"As the world - by which I assume you mean London; the world in a more general sense can have very little interest in your affairs - has already been anticipating the announcement of this very union for weeks, I think you have little to fear."
"They do not yet know all there is to know of her: her poor connections, her miniscule fortune, her informal education. She will be the laughing-stock of society, Aunt!"
"I believe Miss Bennet to be the kind of young lady who can bear any kind of ridicule, so long as she has one person she can depend upon to always love her."
"How can I lower myself so?" Darcy demanded of her. "I have not forgotten my father's teachings, Aunt. He always spoke of the importance of remembering that I am a Darcy, and that I must hold to certain standards."
Lady Manchester frowned. "I do recall George saying something of the sort in my presence. I know that he was very proud of his father, and he had a right to be as you have a right to be proud of him. They were both fine, honourable men, and you are so much like him that it is rather frightening. However, that does not mean that I, or even your mother, ever agreed with everything that George held dear."
"How can you say that?" Darcy snapped. "My parents were the happiest couple I ever saw, and they loved each other completely..."
"Good heavens, boy, I know that. Did you imagine that couples in love never disagree?" When he was silent, Lady Manchester continued. "I want to know, Fitzwilliam, why you think that being a Darcy makes you superior to less fortunate souls."
Darcy's brows knit together. "We have been in the way of receiving privileges which many people have not. It is my duty to make sure that the standards of excellence set down by my ancestors remain intact."
"Of course it is, but did you never think that you might meet with such excellence in a circle other than your own? I would not have you marry the first barmaid you become infatuated with, but a little less attention to social class would be beneficial. Fitzwilliam, dear, your family wishes for you to be happy, first and foremost. What good is that wonderful estate if you are miserable within it? If she is a lady of good breeding, with morals and values that match your own, who can bring a smile to your face and a sparkle to your eyes, who do you think will quibble about her fortune or her family?"
"Aunt Catherine..."
"...has her own agenda, as everyone knows. Is hers the only opinion you care for? I remind you that I have met this Miss Bennet, and I like her very much. She has been rather quiet around me, I think, but perhaps that is due to very little acquaintance. Beyond that, your sister loves her as she would her own sister. I have spoken with the Earl very briefly, and if he were stronger you could speak to him yourself, but when I first mentioned how very much you seemed to like Miss Bennet, he was so extremely happy. We love you, Fitzwilliam, and your happiness will always come first with us. Society can have very little to say: you are a gentleman, and she is a gentleman's daughter. It is not her fault that she has little fortune, and while some spiteful people may accuse her of fortune hunting, you will have the comfort of knowing the truth of it."
Lady Manchester looked hard at her nephew, and when he still seemed to be prevaricating, she said, *"There are only two rules in this world, Nephew: what a man can do, and what a man can't do. The question is this: can you be content to live out the rest of your life without Miss Bennet - to see her marry another man - or can you not?"
He made no reply, but the look in his eyes convinced Lady Manchester that she had made her point.
Darcy left his aunt's house still thinking of the information and the advice given him. The first truth to be thought of, was that he was in love with Elizabeth Bennet, that he had acknowledged it to a person other than himself, and that his family, with the single exception of Lady Catherine, only desired his happiness. While familial disapproval had not been his only concern, he felt as if a great burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. Aside from the pain of being shunned by his family himself, he would never have wished to subject Elizabeth to the kind of disapproval he had feared.
Far more important, his dear aunt had challenged his opinions of himself as a Darcy. It only took a few blocks of walking for Darcy to become thoroughly disgusted with himself. He recalled not only his aunt's words, but his recent quarrel with Elizabeth on the event of her sister's betrothal and, much earlier, his own sister's questioning of his logic. How indeed could he justify his earlier notions of personal and moral superiority based on an accident of birth? Who could claim that such values as he held dear were only to be found in a certain circle of society? Had not Wickham, who had grown up in circumstances as privileged as his own, turned out to be the worst villain he had ever encountered? Were not the Gardiners, a couple living just on the right side of Cheapside, two of the most genteel people he had ever met? Yes, Darcy said to himself, your opinions could do with some improvement, Darcy.
His cousin's predicament entered his mind. Fitzwilliam in love with Anne! Darcy had never imagined its being so, even for a single moment. He scoffed at himself. Her ladyship had been entirely correct in her assessment of his romantic sagacity. Well, as soon as he saw Robert again, he would set things right and offer to refrain from visiting Rosings so that Rob could work himself into Lady Catherine's good graces and persuade Anne to accept his suit. His very presence, in the face of Darcy's absence, would be enough to tip the scales in Rob's favour, Darcy suspected.
The only hurdle now to be surmounted, Darcy realized, was his uncertainty of Elizabeth's feelings towards him. Woefully inexperienced in matters of courtship, he was not at all certain that he had the qualities necessary to earn Elizabeth's love.
When he arrived at the Townhouse, the ladies had not yet returned and he closed himself in his library to think. After an half hour of concocting brilliant schemes that immediately crumbled as soon as he imagined putting them into practice, he decided to resort to the one medium that they could always agree on: truth. He would be as kind and charming to her as he could be, and then he would throw everything on chance and simply tell her all that he felt, and had long felt for her. It was a great risk, and a tactic which would be scorned by other, more seasoned beaux of society, but Darcy felt that making a fool of himself with pretty speeches and gallant gestures would be a far greater, and more humiliating, risk. He would trust all to fate and her good graces. And God help me, he thought wearily.
Chapter 34
Peace had been a stranger to Darcy's mind ever since he had met Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and he doubted very much whether he would ever experience it again. It was also certain that his new understanding of his feelings and his resolution to make those feelings known could contribute very little to his equanimity. Darcy possessed a disposition that, having carefully determined on a course of action, wished to act upon that decision as quickly and as efficiently as may be; his patience was therefore much tried when, four days after his conversation with his aunt, he found that circumstances still prevented him from acquainting Elizabeth with his affections and hopes.
She was very little in the house. Preparations for her sister's wedding were very much underway - in six weeks the couple was to wed, and Elizabeth, as maid of honour, had a great deal to do. When she was present, she was so weary that she rarely had energy for more than an hour's conversation in the drawing room after supper. Georgiana often accompanied Elizabeth on these frequent visits to see her relatives, and found a friend in Kitty Bennet. Elizabeth was glad to see it, and hoped that both might benefit from the friendship: Kitty could afford to acquire some of Georgiana's gentle ways, and Georgiana could use some of Kitty's spirit.
"It is so dull to have a sister marrying," Kitty mourned one day when she had been left to entertain Georgiana in one of the rooms Mr. Bennet had let.
"I should think it would be extremely exciting," Georgiana ventured, reaching for some pretty sky blue ribbon to trim the bonnet in front of her. "Do you not wish for another brother, Miss Catherine?"
"I? No, indeed, one brother is quite enough for me, although I think Mr. Bingley will be a different kind of brother from Jon. Jon is always teasing, and half the time I don't know what he is on about, but with Mr. Bingley all is easy."
"Do Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley intend to live long at Netherfield?"
"Lord, I don't know," Kitty said with a shrug. "Mama wants Jane close by, but I don't think they'll be able to bear it long."
"How wonderful it must be to have so many sisters! I have always longed for a sister."
"I daresay you might - it is very comfortable to always have someone to talk to. Jane and Lizzy are very good sisters as far as that goes, but Mary and Lydia never want to hear anyone but themselves."
"I have often wished that Fitzwilliam would marry," Georgiana sighed as she twirled a silk flower in her fingers, "so that I might have a sister."
"Oh, Miss Darcy!" exclaimed Kitty, her eyes alight. "I was saying something exactly the same just the other day! Here - what say you to your brother and my sister Lizzy?"
"Fitzwilliam and Lizzy? You have seen it too?"
"Seen what?" Kitty looked confused.
Excitement written in her every line, Georgiana left her place and sat next to Kitty. "I have known Fitzwilliam all my life, Miss Catherine, and I have never seen him behave in this way. He is in love with your sister, I am sure of it, and if you have seen it as well..."
"Lord! Mr. Darcy in love with Lizzy? I never thought of it!" Kitty exclaimed. "I only thought they looked well together. But is he really in love with her?"
Georgiana blushed. "If I had known that you did not know it, I would not have mentioned it, but it cannot now be undone. Yes, I am sure he loves her, but he has never told her so."
"Lizzy likes him, you know. For quite some time she hated him above all others, but something has happened and she seems to like him. What shall we do, do you think?"
"Do?" Georgiana looked startled. "What can we do?"
"Why, a great many things! We must make sure that they are alone for long periods of time, or make them partner each other in games, or make him read to us, or we could even send her flowers and notes and pretend they are from Mr. Darcy..."
Georgiana giggled. "You read far too many novels, Miss Catherine, but within reason I think we could bring something about. Will you call for tea tomorrow, and we can begin our plan then?"
"I never dreamed you would be so much fun, Miss Darcy! Of course I will come tomorrow!"
"But you must not mention a word of this to anyone - it is to be our secret."
"Naturally! Good Heavens," giggled Kitty, "won't Lydia be furious when she hears of my invitation?"
His sister was up to something - Darcy was certain of it. It had been the most awkward day of his life. Georgiana had invited Catherine Bennet for tea, and the two of them had sat and talked exclusively to each other, leaving him to entertain Miss Bennet. He watched the two young girls as, with heads bowed, they discussed some mysterious subject he had yet to identify.
Slowly his eyes were drawn to his right, where Elizabeth sat drinking her tea and watching him with an amused expression. When she caught his eye, she looked away and blushed, but the smile remained.
Best to begin now, he thought to himself, mustering his courage. He rose and walked over to the chair next to her, smiling as he sank down.
"Something amuses you, Miss Bennet?" he asked, thankful that his voice remained calm.
"A great many things, Mr. Darcy," was her neutral answer. He might have been discouraged by her cool tone if he had not seen the smile still lingering about her lips.
"Something in particular, though, amuses you now," he prodded. "Pray, what have I done this time?"
"If you must know, sir, it was the expression on your face as you watched our sisters," Elizabeth answered, nodding towards the pair in question. "You do not seem best pleased."
"Confusion must never be mistaken for displeasure, Miss Bennet; misunderstandings would abound." He allowed himself a glance at her to see if she had registered his words. Her face was averted, and he could not see her expression. "I simply cannot fathom what could engross two young ladies for an entire hour."
"No one thing can, sir, but a great many things mingled together do the job very nicely. I daresay they have changed subjects at least five times since the beginning of the afternoon."
Darcy shook his head. "Extraordinary."
"Have you heard from the Colonel at all?" Elizabeth asked. "He has not been to see us lately."
"No - I have not heard from him since he left for Kent two days ago."
"Kent? He left without taking his leave of you? I would never have expected such behaviour from the Colonel."
"He may well be excused, Miss Bennet. He has very important affairs to be put in order - I daresay we will read about his excursions in the newspaper before long."
"In the newspaper?" Elizabeth looked up at him in astonishment, and saw that his eyes sparkled. "What can Col. Fitzwilliam do that would merit an announcement in the paper, I wonder?"
"He has gone, as Benedick would say, to 'hang his bugle in an invisible baldrick.'"
Elizabeth laughed. "You don't mean to say that he has gone to propose to a young lady?"
"Indeed, I do. A Miss Anne de Bourgh shall soon receive an application, I believe."
Elizabeth's fingers slipped, and she rescued her teacup before it fell to the carpet. "Miss de Bourgh?"
"Yes. Do you know her?"
"Is she not your cousin? Daughter to Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"
"The very same."
"Forgive me, Mr. Darcy, for being very forward, but I had thought - that is..."
They both noticed at the same time that the room had grown very quiet. Looking up, they saw that Georgiana and Kitty had left the room, and that they were alone.
"That is odd," Darcy murmured. "I wonder why Georgiana did not tell me that she was leaving?"
Elizabeth did not answer; she was much too busy collecting her thoughts. "The Colonel is in love with Miss de Bourgh, then?" she asked, hoping she did not sound very relieved.
Darcy glanced at her, wondering if she was disappointed. "Yes, and I understand that he has loved her for several years."
"And - how does this information affect you, Mr. Darcy?"
"Affect me?" Darcy asked, surprised. "I wish them all the best, naturally, though I doubt he will receive much encouragement from her mother."
"It is fortunate that you do not feel injured," Elizabeth said, refusing to meet his eyes. "I should hate to see a friendship such as yours and the Colonel's destroyed."
"Of course I don't feel injured," he said, wondering where she had heard such a thing. "Should I?"
"Well, Lady Manchester mentioned that an understanding has long been in place..."
Darcy laughed shortly. "She spoke of my Aunt Catherine's wishes, and no more. There has never been any understanding - indeed, there has never been any affection other than what is strictly proper - between Anne and myself."
"Oh." Elizabeth could not trust herself to say more. There was a long moment of silence which neither wished to break.
"Miss Bennet," Darcy said, taking a deep breath, but he was interrupted by his sister, who called to him from the music room. Sighing, he reluctantly rose from his seat. Elizabeth stood with him, taking his offered arm with a blush, and they went to see what their sisters required.
"How strange that we did not all receive invitations, Lizzy!" Lydia said with a decidedly sour face as she watched her two eldest sisters preparing for Jane's first London ball. Jane was to make her debut as Bingley's fiancée, and Elizabeth did not envy her the experience.
"Lydia, you are only fifteen," Elizabeth admonished her, "and your elder sisters are not yet married. No one thinks of either you or Kitty as being out."
"Out? We have all been out for ages. I would think that Mary could at least give me her invitation, if she did not want it."
Elizabeth pressed her lips together, and Jane said gently, "Now, Lydia, that is very unfair. Papa told her that she could not give it to either of you, as it would be very rude to send someone who had not been invited."
"It is strange that Mr. Darcy should come all the way to the hotel to retrieve you. You could just as well have used our carriage."
"Miss Darcy is Elizabeth's particular friend, Lydia, and wished to be kind."
"Kitty thinks that Mr. Darcy fancies you, Lizzy," Lydia said slyly. "I think it's rather ridiculous of her to think so, don't you?"
"Very," Elizabeth said shortly, turning away with slowly reddening cheeks. Jane glanced at her, and then turned to Lydia.
"Lydia, go and see if our mother wants anything."
Scowling, Lydia rose off the bed and left the room. A welcome silence reigned for a few moments before Jane spoke.
"You have not told me all, Lizzy."
Elizabeth sighed and studied her hands in her lap. "I do not know what there is to tell, Jane."
"You behave differently towards Mr. Darcy than you did before, and he certainly looks at you a great deal. Is there any truth in what Lydia says?"
"I cannot tell you Mr. Darcy's feelings, because he has said nothing. I sincerely doubt that he has confided his feelings to Kitty and Lydia."
"It is not Mr. Darcy's feelings that I wish to hear about, Lizzy, as you well know," Jane said, sounding slightly exasperated.
"I love him. Are you satisfied?" Elizabeth said, turning away from her sister.
"Satisfied? How can you think so? When did you fall in love with him? What of his manners in Hertfordshire? What of his behaviour to Mr. Wickham?"
"Come, Jane, can you name the moment that you fell in love with Mr. Bingley? I do not know that, but I do know who and what he is, and that he is nothing like what we thought him -he is the best man that I have ever known. As for Mr. Wickham's tales, they were naught but lies, and I am ashamed of my previous liking for him." Jane stared at her in amazement, and Elizabeth laughed weakly. "There is no time for a full explanation, but I promise you shall have it at the first opportune moment."
"I will remember that, Lizzy. You are already one explanation in my debt, if you recall."
A knock sounded on the door, and a maid looked in. "I beg your pardons, misses, but your presence is requested downstairs."
"Do I look well enough, Lizzy?" Jane asked anxiously.
"Of course you do, my dear. Mr. Bingley will be speechless."
"I doubt Mr. Darcy will fare much better," was the sly answer, at which her sister pulled a face. Together they walked out of the room and down the stairs.
Chapter 35
Elizabeth sat out the dancing near the table of food and punch, smiling as her sister's gentle manners and smiles won yet another admirer. Jonathan and Georgiana were dancing, and Elizabeth had never seen her look so comfortable with her brother. Mr. Darcy was nowhere to be seen.
She was grateful that no one had asked her to stand up for this set, as the solitude offered her an opportunity to think. As she had predicted, Bingley had been struck silent by her sister's beauty, and it had been quite amusing to watch him struggle for words. However, Mr. Darcy had also shown a distinct lack of verbal skill when she had entered the room, and it had not gone unnoticed. Everyone, it seemed, had entered into a conspiracy, and was determined to marry her to Mr. Darcy. Although she acknowledged to herself that the prospect was far from unpleasant, it was also far from likely. Mr. Darcy had recently begun to pay her particular attention, but she doubted that he was actually contemplating marriage to her. She knew all too well what his views of an equal marriage were, and she was not at all sure that love would be an inducement strong enough for him to overcome his social beliefs - indeed, she was not even sure of the degree of his affection for her.
"Are you well, Miss Bennet?" a voice behind her asked, laced with concern. She turned to look at the very man who had been inhabiting her thoughts.
Think of the devil, and he appears, she thought wryly. "Very well, sir," she said with a smile. "Only a little tired."
He sat besides her, handing her a small cup filled with punch. "You have been very sought out tonight." Did she imagine the hint of impatience in his voice?
"And all of them have wished to ask me about my sister," Elizabeth said. "If I did not love Jane dearly, I could hate her for her beauty."
"I doubt that all of your partners were interested only in your sister, Miss Bennet," he chided her, shaking his head.
"Perhaps not, but enough to weary me."
"Would you dance with someone if he had no interest in your sister - only in you?" Mr. Darcy seemed extremely preoccupied with his own glass of punch. He turned it around and around in his hands, refusing to meet her eyes.
"I could, perhaps, be prevailed upon to take pity on the poor, blind soul," Elizabeth quipped, aware that she did not feel as assured and flippant as she wished.
Darcy chuckled. "He is blind, indeed, but not in the way you might think." The music ceased, and then turned to look at her. "Will you?"
Elizabeth willed her heart to calm its erratic rhythm. "I should be delighted, Mr. Darcy."
Jonathan Bennet watched in satisfaction as Elizabeth took Mr. Darcy's hand and allowed him to lead her to the floor. A sudden idea stole into his head; he whispered to Georgiana that he would return, and then rushed to where the orchestra was preparing to play the next piece. When his request had been made, he hurried back to his partner and explained what he had done. She looked at once horrified and delighted, and contented herself with telling him that she was glad he had done so, but that it was still very wrong. Jonathan grinned and led her off the floor as the first chords of the waltz, which had become very popular in the year since it had been introduced, sounded through the ballroom. He saw Elizabeth's eyes widen in shock, and Mr. Darcy's smile take on an edge of panic. However, Jonathan somehow knew that Mr. Darcy was not about to let this chance slip away from him.
"Do you know the waltz, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked, noting the look of surprise on her face.
"I - certainly - but I have never performed it..." She looked about her shakily as other couples gained the floor.
"Would you prefer to wait for the next, then?" he asked, hearing the slightest note of disappointment enter his voice.
Elizabeth hesitated, and then said very quietly, "No."
Suppressing his smile, he took her right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her back. Elizabeth gripped his shoulder with a trembling hand. He winced, and hastily she loosened her grip, apologizing. He caught her eyes and gave her a small smile. She nodded her head to tell him that she was ready, and they set off.
Elizabeth, woefully out of practice, could only manage the simplest steps at first. Mr. Darcy did not seem to mind in the slightest, and seemed a little more talkative, and much more nervous, than usual.
"There is one thing that pleases me about the waltz," he said after a few moments, "and that is the relative ease of conversation. I find it very disconcerting trying to hold a proper conversation with four other people only a few feet away from you."
"And that is all that you enjoy about the dance, sir?" Elizabeth asked with a return of her former impertinence.
He smiled very slightly. "Very well - that is one of the most pleasing aspects of the waltz."
She blushed, but could not look away. Perhaps conversation is easier, she thought wryly, but avoiding conversation is much more difficult!. "I believe, sir, that you were telling me of a poor blind soul - what did you mean when you said that he was not blind in the conventional way?"
Darcy looked surprised for a moment, and then said, "I meant that he can see perfectly well, but often he cannot see what is inside himself, and his sagacity is very frequently wanting."
"Indeed! That is a great misfortune."
"It is. Miss Bennet, this man has found himself in a most peculiar situation: he has met a young lady who has challenged everything that he once held to be true. She has argued with him, teased him, deliberately provoked him, and made her feelings perfectly clear - yet he continues to think of her."
His voice had dropped, and a soft energy had entered it. Elizabeth felt herself blushing, and could not meet his eyes. He could not mean what she imagined.
"Is he quite sure of this lady's feelings, then?"
"At this point, he is not certain of anything," was the answer as he propelled her into a turn. "That is, he knows his own heart and his own mind, but is completely ignorant of hers."
"Can he not ask her?" she asked softly.
"Clearly, Miss Bennet, you have never felt such an affection as this gentleman does," he replied. "While the pain of uncertainty is great, the agony of rejection would be unbearable, and he is not quite brave enough to risk all."
"Your friend has known the lady long?"
"Nearly five months - perhaps not a very long time, but long enough to have wrought havoc on his emotions."
"And he - cares for her? What does he wish to come from this courtship?"
"He does care for her, more than perhaps she can imagine, and he is hoping that one day he might prevail upon her to marry him."
Elizabeth was certain that her heart had stopped beating for a full ten seconds, and she knew that her breath had caught in a gasp. Her eyes flew up to his and for the first time saw them open and exposed, shining at her with all the love she had longed to see, coupled with more than a little fear. When she believed that she could trust her voice, she said very quietly,
"I think, Mr. Darcy, that were your friend to lay aside his fears and - and address the lady properly, he might - that is, there is good reason to believe that - that he will be received in a much kinder way - than he may think."
Darcy's eyes widened and his hand tightened over her own. "Elizabeth..."
"Lizzy?" came Jon's voice. Elizabeth tore her eyes away from Darcy's and regarded Jon with a degree of annoyance.
"Yes, Jon?"
"I thought that I might remind the two of you that supper will be announced in a moment. Also, the music stopped several seconds ago," he added with a grin, looking pointedly at their posture. Their arms dropped to their sides instantly. "Jane wanted a word with you, Lizzy, if you would excuse us, sir."
Darcy nodded curtly, and watched crossly as Bennet led his sister across the room. Hang him, he thought with uncharacteristic venom. The one moment when I would prefer that he be engrossed by my sister!
His ill temper rapidly evaporated, however, when he remembered all that had transpired. Address her properly? At the next opportunity!
"I insist that you tell me everything, Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed as they entered her room at the hotel. Because of the lateness of the hour, Elizabeth was to spend the night at the hotel with her family, and return to the Darcy townhouse the next day.
Elizabeth, whose eyes had not stopped sparkling all evening, looked at her sister innocently. "Everything? Whatever do you mean?"
"Elizabeth Madelyn Bennet! You know perfectly well what I mean! If anyone missed the extraordinary tension between you and Mr. Darcy, he must be blind!"
"What an extraordinary coincidence, Jane, for we spent the entire dance discussing a blind man."
"A blind man? Lizzy, you will drive me to distraction," Jane said impatiently.
"Yes. Mr. Darcy began to speak to me of a blind man who met a young lady that he cares very much for, but the man is uncertain of her affections. I asked him what the man wished the courtship to result in, and he said that this gentleman hoped to persuade the young lady to marry him."
"Oh, Lizzy! Mr. Darcy proposed!" Jane cried, sounding breathless.
Elizabeth, whose smile looked to split her face in two, answered, "Very nearly. I told him that if this gentleman were to overcome his fears and ask, he might be received more graciously than he thought."
"I can hardly believe it! And you are not nervous in the slightest!"
"Why should I be? He as good as told me that he loves me, and I as good as accepted him. It has all been arranged; we have only to make it official."
Jane shook her head, bemused. "Only you, Lizzy, would accept a man's proposal of marriage before he offered it!"
Elizabeth smiled and curled up in the other small bed in the room. "And only Mr. Darcy would propose in such a roundabout way. How could I not have seen what he is really like before?"
Jane laughed. "You were too busy protesting at his reserved manners." She approached her own bed and pulled back the blankets. "Perhaps you are too excited to sleep, Lizzy, but I am very tired. Good night."
Her sister merely smiled widely, and then sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, which were drawn up to her chin. Mr. Darcy - Darcy - Fitzwilliam - loved her! She was certain of it now: even she could hardly have misunderstood the look in his eyes tonight, and the tone of his voice when he had said her name. Shivers ran up and down Elizabeth's arms as she remembered the sound of her name on his lips. If only Jon had not chosen that moment to interrupt! Of course, that gave her the thrill of waiting for the morrow. How would she remain calm? From what she knew of Mr. Dar - Fitzwilliam, he would not wait long to secure her hand completely. And what would he say, after all? With her mind dwelling on such pleasant subjects, it was some time before she could sleep at all.
Chapter 36
When Georgiana Darcy entered the breakfast room the following morning, a most extraordinary sight met her eyes. Her brother - reserved, silent Fitzwilliam - was pacing the length of the room with a secret smile playing on his lips. At the sound of her entrance, he glanced up, and she was amazed by the excitement and hope that sparkled in the dark depths of his eyes.
"Fitzwilliam!" she exclaimed. "What on earth has happened?"
"Nothing yet, my dear," he answered with a smile, and joined her at the table. He did not touch the savoury breakfast set before him, but stared at it unseeingly, tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair impatiently. Twice in the course of five minutes, he checked his watch.
"Are you expecting someone, brother?" Georgiana finally asked.
"Yes - no - not exactly," was his answer. "When does Miss Bennet rejoin us?"
Georgiana hid her smile. "Not until tea-time."
His face fell. "Tea-time..."
"Do you especially wish to see her, then?" she asked slyly.
Darcy started, and then rose and walked over to her chair. With a grin, he whispered, "More than you can imagine."
With widened eyes, Georgiana looked up into his smiling face. Understanding spread across her features and she exclaimed, "Oh, Fitzwilliam! When did you - how - what did you say? What did she say?"
Darcy laughed and took her hand, taking the seat beside her. "You are before us, I am afraid - nothing has been decided. After this afternoon, however, I am very much mistaken if you do not find yourself congratulating me."
Georgiana threw her arms about his neck. "And you are that sure of her acceptance! It is amazing, I confess..."
"She practically ordered me to offer for her."
"That sounds remarkably like Lizzy," Georgiana laughed.
"Yes..." Darcy's voice trailed off and he fell into a sort of reverie.
Georgiana was determined to pardon this uncivil behavior, and had turned her attention on her breakfast when her brother broke his silence.
"What shall I say to her, Ana?"
Georgiana looked up, surprised. "I beg your pardon?"
"She will expect something extraordinary, something unique, and you know I am not the most creative of men." For a man who two minutes before had been too excitedly happy to keep his seat, Darcy was now alarmingly subdued.
"Oh, Brother, you are always too analytical," Georgiana laughed. "Do you love her?"
"You know I do - I am very much mistaken if the whole of England is not aware of it."
"And you want her by your side?"
"Always."
"Then that is all you need tell her," she assured him, placing a kiss on his cheek.
So impatient was Elizabeth for tea-time that the day seemed to progress at a snail's pace. The voices of her family seemed muffled and mingled together, and she walked about in a dream-like state until she began to prepare to leave. In bidding her family farewell, Elizabeth noted, for the first time, the absence of a certain sister.
"Where is Lydia?" she asked.
"Oh, she has gone out again," Mrs. Bennet said carelessly. "She so enjoys London, you know; she walks out nearly every day around this time."
Elizabeth was in too much of a hurry to be gone to much care for the propriety of her youngest sister's walking out so often alone, but determined to speak to her father at the next convenient opportunity. As she rode through the streets of London, her heart began to behave in a very strange manner, and her hands, she was startled to notice, had taken to shaking rather violently. You are being ridiculous, she scolded herself. Mr. Darcy would never harm you. - but the odd symptoms only intensified as the carriage pulled up to the door.
Hayes answered her knock, and she was surprised to see a smile on his usually imperturbable face. "Welcome back, Miss Bennet," he said gravely as a maid came forward to collect her pelisse and bonnet.
"Thank you." Elizabeth gave him an answering smile and followed him into the drawing room.
This meeting, so long anticipated by both Elizabeth and Darcy, resulted at first in utter silence. In vain did Georgiana talk animatedly, asking questions and encouraging conversation. She was met with shy silence on both sides and finally, exasperated, she proposed a walk in the Park. Her request was agreed to politely, if not warmly, and they set out.
Georgiana made sure to walk at least ten paces behind Elizabeth and her brother, but still no proposal seemed forthcoming. Deciding that she had done her best and that Fitzwilliam must now fend for himself, she soon spotted some acquaintance and walked off to greet them.
Darcy glanced behind him and found, to both his alarm and his relief, that his sister had deserted them. He was alone with Elizabeth for the time, and he did not intend to waste the opportunity. He cleared his throat, and Elizabeth started.
"There is, Miss Bennet, a particularly lovely copse near the middle of the Park - may I be permitted to show it to you?"
"Of course," was her answer.
The little stone bench surrounded by trees was his ultimate destination, where he was prepared to deliver the properly complementary proposal, but as they neared the spot, with the foliage about him growing ever denser, his courage began to fail him. Finally, he stopped in his tracks so suddenly that Elizabeth had walked ahead two or three steps before she realized it.
With a shaky sort of smile, he walked forward to her side and took a steadying breath.
"I must beg your pardon, Miss Bennet," he said rather sadly. "I spent the whole of last night devising a perfect scenario and a dozen flowery speeches, but you know me too well to deny that I am no orator. I am used to always speaking in the most simple and direct manner..." Elizabeth ducked her head to hide her smile, and Darcy's eyes and voice dropped as he continued, "...however, I find that even the most mundane and commonplace language deserts me when you are near."
Elizabeth felt her face flush, and she attempted a degree of her usual impertinence in her reply. "I cannot imagine your ever being at a loss for words, Mr. Darcy."
"I never could imagine it either, until I met you." He turned to look into her eyes. "I am afraid, Elizabeth, that I must speak plainly, and without all of the embellishments that ladies might often expect." He took another steadying breath. "I love you, Elizabeth Bennet, with everything that is in me, and I desire nothing more than to spend the entirety of my life with you by my side. I care nothing for any objections that may be raised by either my family or yours, and I believe that if the entire world were to turn against us, I could live quite happily if I had the assurance of your love. In short - will you marry me, Elizabeth?"
Despite her almost assured acceptance, Darcy could not suppress a note of uncertainty in his voice. Elizabeth was silent for a full ten seconds before she said,
"As fate would have it, Mr. Darcy, I too spent half the night inventing beautifully worded answers to match your proposals, but I gave it all up in despair. I am afraid you will have to endure a much simpler answer." She returned his gaze and said firmly, "I love you with all my heart, and I will marry you, gladly and gratefully."
A smile such as she had never seen before graced his features as he took her hand in both of his. Sliding his signet ring off his smallest finger, he placed it on her fourth finger. "I had no opportunity to purchase a ring, but will you wear this until we can find one together?"
She nodded, a matching smile on her face, and he raised her hand to his lips. As he lowered it again, he hesitantly reached out his other hand to touch her cheek with his fingertips.
"May I?" he whispered, and taking her silence to signify her consent, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. They remained engaged in such an activity for nearly fifteen seconds before steps were heard on the path. Quickly they parted and, with sheepish smiles, began to walk again. Elizabeth's hand was now firmly in the crook of Darcy's elbow, his hand covering hers possessively.
"When should I speak to your father, my dear?" Darcy asked.
"The sooner the better, perhaps. I hate to steal any of Jane's glory, but I would feel much better if you spoke with him as soon as may be."
"I have no one's consent to ask, but as soon as I have your father's blessing, I shall write Lady Manchester and Lady Catherine."
"I have never met your aunt, but I do not think that she will approve."
"It is of no account to me whether she does or not. I hope that my defection will place my cousin in a more attractive light..." His voice trailed away, and he blinked in confusion as he recognized a certain gentleman walking towards them. "Rob?"
His cousin, Darcy decided, looked much the worse for the wear. Rather pale and decidedly downcast, Col. Robert Fitzwilliam bore little resemblance to the laughing, easy gentleman Elizabeth had met. She was greatly curious to learn what misfortune could have wrought such a change, but her fiancé, it seemed, required no such explanations. He was at his cousin's side, clutching his arm, in an instant.
"Rob, she did not..."
"Turned me out on my - er - ear," Col. Fitzwilliam said bleakly, glancing at Elizabeth. "Read me a great long lecture about the evils of stepping out of my sphere, and the iniquity of my attempting to procure the affections of a woman promised to another."
"Good Lord, Rob," Darcy sighed. "I never thought she would be so vehement."
"Neither did I, to tell the truth," Robert answered. "Don't know what I was thinking; I knew she wouldn't approve."
"We should return to the townhouse," Elizabeth said gently. "The colonel seems in need of a very strong refreshment."
"An excellent idea, my dear," Darcy said, taking her hand once again. Col. Fitzwilliam, with something like his former smile, glanced between the two of them. Darcy flushed.
"Er - I do not know if now is the right time, but..."
Fitzwilliam waved a hand. "My congratulations to you both."
"Shall we collect my sister?" Darcy asked, looking about for her.
"Georgie told me that if we were separated, she would retire to the townhouse alone," Elizabeth said smilingly.
Darcy laughed. "A wise woman, my sister."
As the three of them neared the townhouse, they were surprised to see a carriage stopped outside. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the livery, broke away from the gentlemen and rushed inside to find Jane standing in the drawing room, looking nearly ill.
"Jane!" Elizabeth cried, taking her hands. "What is the matter? Something has happened to Papa? Mama?"
"No - they are well, but exceedingly shocked and distressed." Jane sank onto a sofa with Elizabeth beside her. "Lizzy - Lydia has disappeared."
"Disappeared? What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, growing cold.
"She was kidnapped," came the hoarse voice of Jonathan, who was seated in an armchair near the fireplace and had hitherto gone unnoticed. "She thought that she had eloped, and left a note informing us of her purpose, but half an hour ago we received a not from her kidnapper, detailing his demands." He looked up and saw Darcy and Fitzwilliam standing in the doorway, looking horrified. Darcy, on hearing the last, strode to Elizabeth's side and took her hand.
"We will recover her, Bennet," he said firmly.
"Yes, we must," Jonathan said gravely. "But you have not heard all."
Hayes rapped on the open door. "I beg your pardons, but an urgent letter has arrived for Mr. Darcy."
Scowling at the interruption, Darcy took the proffered letter, read it, and blanched completely. He stared at Jonathan, and then at the colonel.
"Georgiana," he croaked. Fitzwilliam sank into a chair, his own troubles forgotten.
"And the kidnapper?" Elizabeth asked, though she was certain that she already knew.
Darcy crumpled the note in his fist and let it fall to the floor.
"George Wickham."