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Chapter I
London, 194_
Laura shifted in her seat. The auction had been going on for about two hours now, and she was ready to go home. She even thought about canceling her weekly date with Steven, but she knew how much he looked forward to it. She looked at her watch, still four more hours until Steven would come pick her up. If this last auction didn't go on for too long, maybe she would have a little time to nap before he came. Laura's thoughts turned to Steven. They had been going out for about three months now. He was kind, polite, and boring. No boring was too harsh a word. Steven just liked things to be on a schedule. He showed up every Friday on her doorstep at 8 o'clock on the dot, and always with flowers, red carnations. And so what if looked more like Mickey Rooney than Tyrone Power, she was hardly a dead ringer Marlene Dietrich. Besides, he was a good man, and Lord knew men were scarce these days.
As she thought more about it, Laura really wasn't looking forward to tonight. She knew that Steven wanted to get married and she also knew that he was on the verge of asking her. If she accepted him, she knew that she would have to give up her job with the London Daily News. Not only did Steven not approve of married women working, but as the wife of an official in the Foreign Office, she would be expected to spend her time planning dinner parties and going to lunch with the wives of other officials. That wasn't the kind of life Laura wanted for herself. She had dreams of working her way up the ranks of the Daily News, to be more than just a reporter for the Arts section. She wanted to tackle more important and interesting stories, maybe even write a book some day.
"Sold for $2500 to the lady in red," the auctioneer's voice rang out, startling Laura. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen for your bids."
A hush fell over the room as two men carried a large painting into the room. It was fairly large and covered with a sheet. Laura looked around the room amused at the excitement this painting seemed to cause. She looked at the program sheet, reading, "Lot number 146, Portrait of an Unknown Woman by the renowned late 19th century artist, Thomas Bennet. Nothing is known about the work or even the name of the subject, as it was found among the rubble in the heart of London shortly after the war. However, it is believed to be one of Bennet's later works. To our knowledge, this piece has never been displayed in public before."
The auctioneer took off the sheet covering the painting. Laura could hear several people in the audience gasp. It was a great work of art. She had never seen another painting like it before. The subject was almost entirely painted in shadows. You could make out her dark, curly hair, but her face was covered by her hands. Obviously, it was the lady's eyes that were meant to be the focus of the painting, as they were the only things that one could see clearly. And what extraordinary eyes they were. They were full of light and laughter, but Laura felt as if they were looking deep into her. It disturbed her, the way those eyes were making her feel. She wondered whom she was.
"Sold to the gentleman in the back row!" The auctioneer's voice startled Laura out of her thoughts. She had no idea that the bidding had even started. Looking towards the back of the room, she tried to find the man who had bought the painting. To her surprise, the buyer was a tall, elderly man dressed very smartly. Laura had attended almost all the auctions here in London and knew that all the big art lovers came, yet never remembered seeing him at one of them. She wondered what made him buy the painting. As the man rose to leave, Laura followed her instincts and went after him. She smelled a story.
She caught up with him in the front hallway of the building. Up close, she guessed that he was probably in his mid to late 80's, but she could see remnants of what must have been an extremely handsome face in his younger days. Giving him her most charming smile she introduced herself. "Excuse me sir, my name is Laura Collins, and I am a reporter for the London Daily News. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your purchase just now."
The man turned around and for a moment looked surprised, almost shocked. Then he smiled back at her, "Of course Miss Collins. I would be happy to answer any questions you may have. If you want, we could go to a little café I know right around the corner."
Laura was surprised at how easily this man was willing to be interviewed. "That would be wonderful, thank you Mr. ...?"
"Oh, how very rude of me. My name is Darcy, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
Chapter II
The waitress came by and served them their coffee. Darcy took of sip of his and sighed, "Ahhh, it's been a long while since I've had coffee. I'm afraid I had to give it up for the duration of the war."
Laura also took a sip of her coffee. It had been a long time since she had had coffee either. After years of rationing items such as meat and coffee, she was looking forward to having these luxury items on a regular basis again. Placing her cup on the table she spoke to him, "Mr. Darcy, my main purpose in wanting to interview you is because I want to know why you wanted this particular painting. I've never seen you at an auction before, are you an art lover?"
Darcy smiled at her, "I am a great lover of art, and I am especially a big fan of Thomas Bennet. The reason you have never seen me at an auction before is because I rarely come to London. I have a house in Derbyshire where I spend much of my time. But my reason for buying this particular painting is more personal than just being a great fan of Thomas Bennet. In fact, instead of telling you, I could show you what I mean."
Throwing some money onto the table, he rose. Laura followed and taking his arm, they walked out of the café.
As the pair approached the house, Darcy spoke, "My family and I have only been back in London this past month. We stayed in the country throughout the war, and came back here after I read about this auction in the paper. When it reported that the main attraction would be an unknown work of a mysterious lady by Thomas Bennet, I knew it was the painting I had been looking for."
Laura looked at him in surprise, "So you have seen the painting before? Do you know who she is?"
Darcy looked over at her with a smile, "All in good time my dear. Here we are now."
As they stepped through the doorway, Darcy called out, "Darling, are you home? I've brought a guest."
From upstairs they could hear a voice call out, "I'll be down in just a moment William."
Darcy turned to Laura, "Let us go into the parlor and wait for her."
As they entered the parlor, Laura was delighted by what she saw. It was a light, cheerful room. Not at all modern, but very warm and friendly.
"Did your wife decorate this room Mr. Darcy?" asked Laura.
"Yes she did, some years ago. It's rather old fashioned, but we like it well enough. We were very lucky that none of the house was damaged during the war."
Just then the door opened and in walked an elderly woman of about 80. Like her husband, she was dressed very smartly in a lavender frock. Her hair was entirely white, but like her husband, Laura knew that she must have been very lovely when she was younger.
"There you are Darling. This is Laura Collins of the London Daily News."
"Laura Collins? How very nice to meet you dear, I'm Elizabeth Darcy."
Laura shook the hand that was offered to her.
"Elizabeth, Miss Collins has asked to interview me about your father's painting. I thought it would be best if I brought her here."
Elizabeth smiled at him, "Yes William, I think that was a very good idea."
Laura swung her head around to look at Darcy. "Her father's painting? I'm afraid I don't understand." Looking back at Mrs. Darcy, she felt as if there was something very familiar about her. Walking closer towards her, Laura realized what it was. Her eyes! They were the same one as in the painting.
"It was you," she cried, "You're the one in the painting!"
Elizabeth looked back at her, "Yes it was me."
"But I don't understand, why buy your father's own painting?"
"Well, that's a very interesting story in itself. Would you like to stay and hear it?"
"Yes I would, very much so."
Elizabeth gestured towards a couch, "Please have a seat my dear." Giving her a sly look she asked, "By the way, how is your grandfather Bill doing?"
Laura looked at Elizabeth in amazement, "How did you know who my Grandfather is?"
Taking the seat opposite Laura, Elizabeth gave a little laugh, "It's all a part of the story."
Looking at Darcy, she asked, "Now where should I start?"
"Start with the painting my dear."
"Oh yes, the painting."
Chapter III
London, 188_
"Now Lizzy, move your head just a tad bit lower, no lower.... perfect." Thomas Bennet glanced between the canvas and his daughter, making sure that everything was exactly the way he wanted it.
"How much longer Papa? You know Mother is expecting me home soon."
"We're almost through here. In fact, I think this painting will be done in one more sitting. Good thing too, Sir Lucas keeps pestering me about it." Thomas made a couple more strokes of his brush then set it down. "I think that will do for today."
"Good, I'll have just enough time to meet Jane." Lizzy walked over to the coat rack and grabbed her hat and umbrella, "So you really are going to display it? What if Mama finds out?"
Thomas crossed the room over to the sink and began to clean his brushes, "I told your mother that she could finally re-furnish the drawing room. She was so excited that she said that she would be too busy to attend. Besides, no one can tell that it's you. All of your features are hidden. And speaking of you mother, where did you tell her you were going this morning?"
"I told her that I would be visiting the sick with Jane and Charlotte Lucas."
Thomas smiled at his daughter, "Perfect excuse, you know your mother would never want to come along."
"Yes, after that whole fiasco last time when she found out I was sitting for you, I didn't think it was wise to take any more chances than I already am."
Thomas Bennet's features grew sad when he remembered the day when his wife found out that Lizzy had been sitting for one of his paintings. Frances Bennet had nearly had an apoplexy when she discovered that Lizzy, then only 16, had worn little more than a Roman toga and some laurel leaves for the occasion. She declared that none of HER daughters would expose themselves to ridicule by posing for their father.
Although Thomas Bennet was famous all over Europe for his portraits, it didn't deny the fact that his was neither of the gentry nor of the aristocracy. He had money but neither connections nor consequence. His family had been landowners at one time, but his grandfather had had five daughters, and so everything was passed on to a distant male cousin. And Mrs. Bennet's family had come from trade. Even though Mrs. Bennet was aware of the fact that their family had no influence in society, she was determined to see all five of her daughters marry well.
It was Lydia who had betrayed the fact that Lizzy was at her father's studio. The spacious sun-lit room was Thomas Bennet's domain, and only Lizzy was ever allowed there without asking his permission first. Frances Bennet had sent her youngest daughter over to the studio to remind Thomas that the Lucas family would be dining with them that night. When Lydia peeked through the window and saw Lizzy in little more than a white sheet, she ran home to tell Mother.
Thomas remembered how Frances burst into the studio, nearly hysterical. She forbade Lizzy from ever coming to that room again. Lizzy was so upset that she ran out of the room. She didn't even see the...
"Papa? Papa? Are you all right?"
Thomas' head jerked up, unaware that his daughter had been trying to talk to him. "Oh, Lizzy, I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Lizzy gave him a little smile, "You were miles away weren't you?" She walked over to the door, "I'd better go now if I don't want to be late. I'll see you at supper Papa."
Thomas walked over to the door, "Don't forget your cane Lizzy. Do you need help getting down the stairs?"
Lizzy grabbed the cane from the coat rack, "That's all right, I can manage from here." And giving him a kiss, she left the room.
Thomas watched her go down the stairs. He was so proud of her. She never complained, and never blamed anyone but herself. She always said that if she hadn't run out of the room angry, she would have seen the hansom cab before it was too late. And when the doctors had said it would be best to send her away, Thomas refused. For the past four years he had hired the best nurses and teachers, and with the proper training, she had become so self reliant, no one would ever have guessed that she was blind.
Chapter IV
London 194_
Laura looked at Elizabeth in amazement, "Blind? But you don't look... I mean you're not...What happened?"
Elizabeth gently laughed, "Be patient Laura, all of your questions will be answered in time."
Just then the clock struck 8. Laura jumped up from her seat, "Oh no, I'm late! I'm so sorry, but I have to be somewhere right now."
Elizabeth and Darcy rose also, "Of course my dear, if you must go."
Laura looked at her watch, "But I so much want to hear the rest of your story. May I come back again tomorrow?"
Elizabeth walked her to the hallway, "Yes, please do come back tomorrow. Would eleven o'clock suit you?"
"Oh yes, that would be perfect."
"Then we look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."
Just then the front door opened and a man in a RAF uniform came through the door. Laura thought, "No one could mistake him for Mickey Rooney. No, he's definitely a Tyrone Power, with a bit of Clark Gable thrown in too." Looking back and forth between him and the older man, she suspected that at about the same age, Mr. Darcy and this strange man could have passed for brothers.
The man looked at Laura with a gaze of curiosity, then walked over to Darcy and Elizabeth
Elizabeth smiled warmly at the man, "There you are Patrick, I was beginning to worry."
The man bent down and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek, "Hello Nana, I'm sorry, but I was at a meeting all afternoon. Hello Grandfather."
Darcy made the introductions, "Patrick, this is Laura Collins, a reporter for the London Daily News. Laura, this is our youngest grandson, Captain Patrick Darcy."
Patrick gave her a good-natured grin and stuck out his hand. Laura looked at it warily before shaking it. She didn't know why, but she felt uncomfortable around him.
"Patrick, why don't you escort Miss Collins home? It's dark out, and I would feel so much better if she didn't have to go back alone."
"I can do better than that Nana, my car is parked outside and I would be pleased to drive Miss Collins home."
For some reason, Laura didn't want this man escorting her anywhere, least of all, her house, "Really Mrs. Darcy, I can walk. It's not far and I don't want to inconvenience anyone."
"Nonsense!" cried Elizabeth. "Patrick would be pleased to see you home. He can also pick you up when you come back tomorrow."
Laura felt that Elizabeth wouldn't take no for an answer, "Very well, Mrs. Darcy. It was lovely meeting the both of you, and I am looking forward to hearing the rest of your story."
Laura said little in the car. She was thinking about Elizabeth's story. She had so many questions, but Elizabeth said that they would all be answered in time. She supposed that she would just have to wait.
It was then that Patrick disturbed her little reverie, "So how do you like working for the Daily News, Laura?"
"Very well, thank you Captain Darcy," said Laura primly. She kept her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead.
"My name is Patrick, Laura."
"And mine is Miss Collins, Captain Darcy."
Patrick grinned at her, "For a reporter, you're not much of a conversationalist, are you? But maybe you write the obituaries. Not much writing goes in to turning out those, does it?"
Laura fumed inside, how dare he question her abilities as a writer, "I'll have you know, Captain Darcy, that I am a featured writer for the Arts section of the Daily News. That's how I met your Grandfather. He bought a painting at an auction I was covering today."
She had hoped that her little speech would wipe that infuriating grin off of his face. She took a quick peek at him, no he was still smiling.
"No harm meant, just wanted to get a little rise out of you, that's all."
"This is my house up ahead. You can just drop me off right here, and I'll walk the rest of the way."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly do that. I promised Nana that I would see you safely home, and that's what I intend to do." And with that, he pulled the car over to the curb and parked.
As they walked up to her third story apartment, Laura saw Steven sitting on the top stair with a bunch of wilting red carnations in his hands. When he saw the couple walking up towards him, he got on his feet.
"There you are Laura, I was wondering where you could have been!"
Laura gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'm sorry Steven, but I got tied up with a story."
"But you know that we have a date every Friday at eight."
"I know Steven, and I really am sorry. Turning towards Patrick, she introduced the two men. Captain Darcy, this is Steven Wickham. Steven, this is Captain Patrick Darcy. He was good enough to see me home, but now he's leaving."
Patrick took the hint, "It was nice meeting you Mr. Wickham. I'll pick you up tomorrow at eleven, Laura." And before she could protest, he ran down the stairs.
Laura told Steven the whole story, of what had happened that day, and how she had met the Darcy's. Steven said he understood, but that he didn't really care for that Darcy fellow who had brought her home. He also wasn't pleased that she had let her work interfere with their date. Once again she apologized, but said that she loved her work, hoping to put off any marriage proposals for the time being. Steven stayed for a while, then left, saying he had to be up early the next morning for work. Laura was not upset to see him go.
The next morning, while she was getting ready to go to the Darcy's, she noticed that she was paying more attention to her appearance than usual. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw a girl of 25 with dark brown hair and green eyes. Not repulsive, but hardly the pin-up girl type. As she applied more mascara, she told herself that she wanted to make a good impression on the Darcy's. She wasn't doing this because Patrick was coming to pick her up. Why would she care what he thought of her? Besides, his tastes probably ran towards voluptuous blondes who got manicures once a week and drank champagne like it was milk.
Once again, Laura stared straight ahead with her hands in her lap, as Patrick drove her towards his grandparents' home.
"So, that Steven fellow, is he your boyfriend?" asked Patrick
Laura kept on looking out in front of her, "I don't see what business it is of yours, but yes, he is my boyfriend."
"Don't marry him."
Laura jerked her head around to look at him, "What did you say?"
Patrick glanced at her, "I wouldn't marry him if I were you. I'm sure he's a swell guy and all, but he looks about as lively as a mummy. I guarantee you, after six months of marriage to him, you'd be bored out of your mind. And I don't suppose he's the type to approve of married women working, is he?"
Laura wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of telling him that he was probably right, "Steven is very supportive of me and my career. He is a good person, and we always have wonderful time together. Besides, who said anything about getting married?"
"It was just a friendly warning, that's all."
"Well, I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself, Captain Darcy."
Just then, the car pulled up to the Darcy home. Without waiting for him to open the door for her, Laura got out of the car and walked to the door. As if on cue, Mr. Darcy opened the door, "There you are Miss Collins, right on time."
Chapter V
London 188_
As Thomas Bennet walked through the door of his home, he was greeted by his wife, who seemed to be more flustered and excited than usual.
"Oh Mr. Bennet!" his wife cried, "you will never guess what I have just heard from my sister Phillips!"
Thomas gave a little sigh as Hill, the housekeeper, took his coat and hat, "No my dear, I probably could not guess, so why don't you just tell me your news." And with that he walked into the parlor where all five of his daughters were waiting.
His eldest Jane, was sitting on the couch, sewing; Lizzy sat next to her, reading a book in Braille; Mary, as usual, was at her window seat reading a book on philosophy, and his two youngest, Kitty and Lydia, were at the table, making over their bonnets.
As he came in, the girls looked up and said hello.
Mrs. Bennet followed close behind her husband, "I have just heard it from my sister Phillips, who heard it from Mrs. Long, who had it straight from Lady Lucas, that two very wealthy and single men named Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, are to come to your new opening at the museum next week."
Mr. Bennet sat down in his chair and picked up the evening paper, "And what does this have to do with us my dear, except the fact that they may perhaps buy one of my paintings?"
"Oh don't you see Mr. Bennet, I mean for at least one of them to marry one of our girls."
Thomas looked over the paper at his wife, "I'm sure that their entire purpose in coming to the show, is so that they can marry on of our daughters, Mrs. Bennet."
"Well, I'm sure that it will be once they see them. What man in his right mind, not think our daughters the loveliest girls in London?"
"What man indeed?" muttered Mr. Bennet under his breath.
"And that's why I must come to your opening next week."
At that point Jane, Lizzy, and Mr. Bennet all looked up. Jane exchanged a worried look with her father. She and Charlotte Lucas were the only two other people who knew that Lizzy was sitting for Mr. Bennet, "But Mama, I thought that you were going to the shops with my aunt Phillips, to buy things for the drawing room?"
"Oh Jane, I can do that anytime. What is important right now is getting you girls married. Yes, I think that this Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will do very nicely for you girls."
Just then James, the butler, came in to announce dinner. Mr. Bennet took Lizzy's arm, and escorted her into the dining room.
"Well Papa, what are you going to do about the painting now?" Lizzy whispered.
"We'll finish like we planned. Your mother stopped looking at my paintings a long time ago, and even if she did happen to see it, I don't think that she'd recognize that it was you. And if one of your sisters found out, you know that they wouldn't say anything. Lizzy nodded. As the family sat down at the table, the servants came in with the food. Lizzy was the only one who did not serve herself. Instead she was handed a plate with her food already on it. As she set it down in front of Lizzy, the servant said, "Now Miss Elizabeth, your meat is at 3 o'clock, your asparagus is at 7 o'clock, and your potatoes are at 10 o'clock."
"Thank you Nellie."
One week later
Lucas Gallery
"There you are Thomas, was beginning to think that you were going to be late for your own opening."
"I'm sorry William, But with five ladies in the house..."
William laughed, "I know just what you mean. My girls always take forever to get ready to go anywhere, and I only have two of them."
Sir William Lucas was the owner of the Lucas Gallery. An art lover and friend of Thomas Bennet all his life, Sir William was never too happy to display his friends' works. Formerly in trade, he had distinguished himself in the eyes of the crown with his patronage to the arts, thus being knighted, Sir William. He was perhaps a little to impressed with the aristocracy for Thomas Bennet's taste, but he was a good man, with never an unkind word to say about anyone. His eldest daughter, Charlotte, damned a spinster at 27, was Elizabeth's closest friend and confidante.
As Lizzy stood next to her father, she felt a hand at her elbow, "Hello Charlotte," said Lizzy, turning around, recognizing her perfume.
Charlotte steered her away from their fathers, "I was beginning to worry where you were. Have you heard about the two gentlemen who are supposed to come to your father's opening today?"
"I'm sorry about that, but Lydia took forever in deciding what to wear. This is the first time she has been allowed to attend, and it's all because of these two mysterious gentlemen. It seems Mama has decided that at least one of them should marry into our family, and with five daughters here instead of only four, her chances have grown slightly."
Charlotte laughed, "Well, it seems that your mother is not alone, Mama allowed Maria to come as well. She said that 16 is a perfect age to marry at."
Both ladies laughed at this, just then a party of five walked in. Elizabeth could hear the people around her whispering excitedly, "What is it Charlotte? Why is everyone so excited?"
"Oh Lizzy, it's the gentlemen. My father tells me that they are a Mr. Charles Bingley with his sister Mrs. Louisa Hurst, her husband Mr. Frederick Hurst, his other sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, and his friend Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Lizzy, I must say that the men are extremely attractive, and both the ladies very elegant."
Just then Mrs. Bennet came up to the ladies, "Lizzy, come over to your father with me. He has just met Mr. Bingley, and he is about to introduce us all.
As Lizzy stopped next to her father, she felt his hand take her arm, "Mrs. Bennet, girls, I would like you to meet Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Sirs, may I present my wife, my eldest Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia."
"I am delighted to meet you both," cried Mrs. Bennet, "I hope that you have come eager to admire some great beauty?" casting a sly look at Jane, giving reference to her lovely eldest daughter, and her husbands paintings.
"Mama!" whispered Jane.
Lizzy felt her father give her arm a slight squeeze. She knew that her mother had just embarrassed Jane, which she usually did in the presence of wealthy, eligible, young men.
If Mr. Bingley was offended, Lizzy could not hear it in his voice, "Yes, madame, I have been a great admirer of your husbands for some time now, and I am looking forward to finally possessing one of his paintings."
Mrs. Bennet turned her attention to Mr. Darcy, "And you Sir? Are you as eager as your friend here?"
"I am afraid Mrs. Bennet, that I have no intention of buying any of your husband's works at present."
Lizzy was furious. She was fiercely loyal to her father and his work. If this Mr. Darcy wasn't a fan of Papa's, fine. But he didn't have to put it so rudely. She decided to make a quick exit before her tongue got the better of her, "Papa, would you be so kind as to direct me over to Charlotte, please?"
"Yes, certainly my dear."
"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, it was a pleasure meeting you both."
As Elizabeth walked away, she was unaware of a pair of eyes following her. Darcy, like the rest of his party, had been told by Sir William about Elizabeth's condition. He was surprised that Mr. Bennet hadn't sent her to an institution where they would be able to take care of her. But then again, he also saw how close Mr. Bennet and his daughter seem to be. He had a feeling that Mr. Bennet would never have sent his daughter off, and Mr. Darcy admired him for that.
Chapter VI
Sir William called the room to attention, asking the party to please come into the gallery so that he may unveil the new paintings of Thomas Bennet. On the arm of Charlotte, Lizzy stepped into the room. She could hear the murmurs of approval and of delight from the crowd. Charlotte squeezed Lizzy's hand, "Oh Lizzy, your painting is marvelous, simply marvelous. Everyone is quite in raptures with it, even that Mr. Darcy. It seems he can't take his eyes off of it."
Lizzy smiled, "He probably only looks at it to find some fault."
Charlotte gave her friend a curious look, "I wouldn't be too sure of that Lizzy."
In fact, Charlotte was right. Mr. Darcy was enchanted by the painting. Those eyes, something about them seemed so familiar, so comforting, yet he had a distinct feeling that the lady was almost laughing at him. He spied Mr. Bennet in the corner of the room by himself. Walking over, he addressed Thomas, "Mr. Bennet, may have a moment of your time?"
Mr. Bennet looked back at the tall, proud-looking man in surprise, "Of course Mr. Darcy, how may I help you?"
"I'm very interested in buying one of your paintings."
"And which one would that be?"
"The one over there, I believe it is called, Portrait of an Unknown Lady."
Thomas Bennet looked at Darcy in surprise. After his earlier comment, Mr. Bennet had no idea that Mr. Darcy would want to buy one of his paintings, especially that particular one, "I'm sorry Mr. Darcy, but that one is not for sale."
Darcy moved to take his cheque book from his coat pocket, "Mr. Bennet, you drive a hard bargain. What price are you asking for it, I'll pay whatever you want for it."
"Mr. Darcy, I am very sorry, but I am in earnest. That painting will never be for sale as long as I live. Not for all the jewels in the crown or for all the money in the world."
Darcy could hardly keep the disappointment from his face. Replacing the chequebook back in his coat, he made a slight bow to Mr. Bennet then turned around and left the room.
Lizzy and Charlotte overheard the exchange between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Lizzy was confused, Darcy had almost insulted her father's work yet was ready to pay any price for her painting. She wondered if there was more to this man than met the eye.
Charlotte whispered in Lizzy's ear, "It seems that Mr. Darcy isn't as indifferent to your father's work as we thought." She then turned her head and saw Mr. Bingley and Jane talking, "And it also seem that Mr. Bingley is certainly not indifferent to your sister Jane. I'd don't think he's left her side since they were introduced."
Lizzy smiled. She was happy for Jane and admired Mr. Bingley for not being embarrassed away from Jane by her mother's comments, as so many had before him, "Charlotte, I'm thirsty. Would you mind getting me something to drink."
"Of course not Lizzy. Just sit here, and I'll be right back."
As Lizzy sat there, she heard two faint, unfamiliar voices coming from behind her, "Really Louisa, I don't know why our brother has to drag us to these things."
"Oh Caroline, you know Charles, always ready to patronize the latest artist, no matter how untalented."
Despite the faintness of the voices, Lizzy correctly guess that the speakers were Mr. Bingley's sisters, Louisa and Caroline. Since her blindness, her other senses, especially her hearing, had become more acute. Obviously, neither of them had any idea that she was sitting close by.
"Who is this Mr. Bennet anyway? Obviously a man with little talent. Just look at the painting over there, the one where you can't even see the subject. You can't even make out her features, they are all in shadows. A very inferior piece of work I must say, but what is your opinion Mr. Darcy?"
Lizzy sat straight up. She was furious! How dare they belittle her father's work! They wouldn't know art if it came up and slapped them on the face. She waited to hear what Mr. Darcy had to say.
"Actually Miss Bingley, I think Mr. Bennet is one of the greatest artists in our time. I even tried to buy one of his paintings just now, the one you were just referring to as 'a very inferior piece of work,' but I was refused."
Caroline realized her blunder and tried to change the subject, "You mean you graciously offered to buy one of Mr. Bennet's paintings and was refused?"
Darcy looked across the room to the painting, "I don't blame him. I wouldn't part from a thing of beauty such as that either."
Lizzy felt a warm glow run throughout her. She was pleased that her father found the painting too valuable to sell, and also that Mr. Darcy had defended Mr. Bennet to those two horrible sisters.
"Here is some refreshment for you Lizzy." Charlotte handed the glass of punch to Lizzy.
Darcy turned around at the sound of Charlotte's voice. He hadn't been aware that Miss. Bennet had been sitting so close to them. He wondered if she had heard his conversation with Charles' sisters.
Miss Bingley however, was still completely unaware that Lizzy was sitting close by, and therefore began hurling her insults towards the Bennet family in general, "I will admit Louisa that Jane Bennet is a very lovely girl, but that family of hers. The mother's constant chattering, the two youngest flirting with every man under 30 in the room, that wallflower of a girl Mary. Really someone should tell her that mud is not a very good color for someone with such a sallow complexion."
Mrs. Hurst twittered at her sister's comment, "Really Caroline, you are too cruel."
"Nonsense, I only tell things as I see them. But the worst of the family has to be that Miss Eliza. I am very sorry for her, being blind and all, but she really should just stay at home. It really is too embarrassing."
Lizzy clutched Charlotte's hand. Never in her whole life had she been so mortified. It was true, Kitty and Lydia were immature and spoiled, Mary was rather prim and dull, and Mama was a chatterbox, but they were also good people, and they would never have insulted someone as they had just been insulted, "Take me to my father," Lizzy whispered.
Darcy knew from the look on Miss Bennet's face that she had heard every word the Bingley sisters had said. Cursing them to himself, he turned and made a slight bow to the ladies before walking towards Lizzy and Charlotte.
Caroline watched Mr. Darcy walk away, "Was it something I said?" she asked her sister.
Darcy walked up to Lizzy and Charlotte as they were leaving their chairs, "Miss Bennet..."
Lizzy abruptly stopped, she hadn't expected Mr. Darcy to come up to her, "Yes, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy stood there, his mind racing. What should he say? Should he apologize for what Caroline had said? Should he just pretend it never happened? "Miss Bennet, I just wanted to tell you what a great fan I am of your father's."
Lizzy smiled, "Thank you Mr. Darcy, I only wish that others shared your sentiments."
Darcy quickly glanced at the Bingley sisters, yes they were watching him, "I wouldn't worry too much about that Miss Bennet. There are just some people who are unable to recognize true genius when they see it."
"How true."
Charlotte turned to Lizzy, "I'm sorry dear, but my father is summoning me right now. I should get you to your father."
"Do not worry about that Miss Lucas, I will escort Miss Bennet safely to her family."
"Thank you Mr. Darcy." said Charlotte with a slight curtsy. And with that, she left the couple.
Darcy reached down and placed Lizzy's hand on his arm, "Now let me return you to your father."
Later that evening at the Bennet home
As Lizzy prepared for bed she pondered over the events of the day. She was very happy for her father's success, all of London society would talk of nothing else but the paintings of Thomas Bennet for weeks to come. She also thought about Mr. Darcy. What a change in his manner, from disagreeable and proud, to open and gentlemanly. Lizzy would always be grateful to him for the way he defended her father to the "superior sisters." Just then, she heard a knock on the door, "Come in."
"It's only me Lizzy, I just wanted to say goodnight."
"Come in and sit with me for a while Jane. Tell me, did you enjoy yourself this afternoon?"
Jane sat next to Lizzy on the bed, "Oh yes, very much so."
"Charles Bingley seemed quite taken with you."
"Oh Lizzy, it was nothing really. Charles, I mean Mr. Bingley, is a great admirer of Father's and I was only discussing art with him. We had a very pleasant conversation."
Elizabeth smiled at her sister, "So pleasant, that he practically ignored every other person in the room."
Jane blushed, "Don't tease me so Lizzy."
"I'm sorry dearest, but it would be quite natural for him to be completely captivated with you, as you are five times as pretty as the rest of your sisters, and have the loveliest, sweetest disposition of anyone I know. But I shall tease you no longer. Did you happen to meet Mr. Bingley's sisters?"
"Yes I did. They were quite charming, and very elegant. What did you think of them?"
"I'm sorry to say Jane, but I did not like them at all. I thought them arrogant and conceited. I overheard them insulting poor father, calling his work inferior."
"Well, it was very wrong of them to say such things with you so close by, but everyone does have their own tastes and standards or beauty. And Mr. Bingley did tell me that were rather out of sorts this morning. They just arrived from the county, and had to drive quite a distance to get here. Perhaps they were fatigued by the journey."
"Oh Jane, you really are too good."