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Richard knew she was there before he even saw her. Something in his mind, a strange sense, told him that Elizabeth Bennet had arrived at the ball.
She was there.
His immediate instinct was to leave Miss Agatha Millstone in the middle of the floor, but he, like his cousin, had been raised as a gentleman. He quickly corrected himself and apologized to Miss Millstone, claiming that he was unfamiliar with this particular dance. He glanced at the garden entrance again, saw that she was still there, and prayed she would save the next dance for him.
She was there.
Richard had been somewhat understanding of Elizabeth's refusal to see him. He believed she felt guilty about what she would have to do to Lord Robin and was trying to overcome it. But when she had not come to the musicale, picnic, or anything else, he had started worrying. When she was not announced at the ball, he lost hope.
Richard did not know why she had come in through the gardens rather than being announced. He did not care.
All that mattered to him was that she had come, at last.
The dance seemed to go on forever, magnified by the fact that his partner, Miss Millstone, was a thumping bore. Richard kept his eyes on Elizabeth, who was lurking slightly in the shadows so as not to be noticed, looking out at the dance floor.
Was she looking for him?
Richard passed by Darcy, who was frowning fiercely. Richard returned the glare with a glare of his own, remembering their argument of two days past.
The music finally came to an end. Richard made haste to walk Miss Millstone off the dance floor, then hurried over to Elizabeth, who was still standing near the garden doors.
"Good evening, Elizabeth," he said in a low voice.
The eyes stared blankly for a moment, then widened. "Richard," she murmured, curtseying. "How did you know it was me?"
"Lucky guess." He winked. "Shall we dance?"
"We should forego the pleasure, given the situation." Elizabeth motioned to Sabrina.
"I think dancing is permitted...between friends."
"I do not know if we can call each other friends anymore."
"Then for old times' sake, dance with me." When it looked like she might refuse again, he said, "Please, Elizabeth."
"Very well. How can I resist?" Elizabeth took his hand. She looked at all the curious stares they were receiving.
"Why did you not come in to be announced?" he asked.
"There are people here...whom I suspect would not wish for me to be here."
"Yes."
"Miss Bingley has inquired about me on several occasions. I suspect she wishes to embarrass me."
Richard had been thinking of Darcy, and not Caroline Bingley, when agreeing with her. He felt it would be best if he did not mention his cousin's concerns.
"I believe she may. Why did you not respond to any of my invitations?"
"You know why."
"I have told you I do not love Sabrina. Can you honestly say you love Lord Robin?"
Elizabeth did not answer, though she could have said that he knew her reply to that question as well. She had spent her time in exile thinking of Robin. She knew, in her heart, that she did not love him. She had not loved him when he had asked her to marry him. Although in the days following her engagement she had felt something she thought might be love, that had eventually faded.
And then Richard had returned. And there had been that kiss at the pond.
Try though she might, Elizabeth could not shake the feeling that something about it had been wrong. It had not been like the furtive kiss she had shared with Robin, though neither one felt right.
"We have already discussed this topic. I believe I told you then that I would not hurt Robin or Miss Tysen."
"Do you feel it would be right for us not to be together? To hurt ourselves as well as them?"
"Richard..."
"Please do not spoil this. Let us have this night, if we have no other, in which neither Sabrina nor your precious Robin exists."
"That would be rather difficult considering Miss Tysen's presence here this evening." Elizabeth's feet went through the motions. This was what she had dreamed of for nearly twelve years, and she began to think that Richard was right. They would never have another night like this.
The sight of them dancing soon drew others' attention. Darcy had moved quickly and was dancing with Sabrina Tysen, who looked at her fiancé with confusion in her eyes, and a small amount of hurt.
"I did not see her arrive," Sabrina said. "Who is she?"
"I believe it is Miss Elizabeth Bennet." Darcy saw no reason to lie.
"Oh!" Sabrina smiled in relief. "She is a nice young lady, would you not agree?"
"Do you know who she is?"
"Of course. I was present when her engagement was announced."
"No. I mean who she really is."
"I am well aware that her parents are in your service. Miss Bingley mentions it often. I think Miss Bennet and Lord Robin must truly be in love not to let that bother them."
Darcy felt the sudden urge to open Miss Tysen's eyes to the truth--how 'that nice Miss Bennet' had loved Richard since she was a child, and how he feared Richard was infatuated with her--so much so that he might just break his engagement.
But he would not. It was not his place.
"Is something troubling you, Mr. Darcy?" Sabrina asked.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth and Richard. Sabrina's fears may have faded upon hearing the name of the young woman Richard was dancing with, but Darcy's only intensified.
His sharp eyes noticed the almost adoring way Richard looked at her, and the tenderness with which Eliza returned his gaze. Darcy could just imagine what people were saying. He thanked God that no one knew of Richard and Sabrina's engagement...and prayed that no one discovered Eliza's identity.
Darcy sent another pointed glance at his cousin...
...who completely ignored it.
"I could dance with you forever," Richard said. "You dance divinely."
"Thank you. I thought I would never master the steps. Robin was most patient with me."
A slight pall marred Richard's blissful mood, then faded.
"Elizabeth, I must speak to you alone."
"Richard, I do not think--"
"By the pond, this evening. Please say you will meet me. This is our night, remember?"
Elizabeth nodded. "When?"
"Thirty minutes. By the pond. I shall meet you there."
Elizabeth glanced around at the other dancers. She knew they were talking about her, wondering who she was, why Richard Fitzwilliam seemed so fascinated by her. She noticed Caroline Bingley glaring at the two of them. Elizabeth suspected that Miss Bingley knew who she was.
So much for remaining anonymous. Perhaps this is for the best. If I only get to dance once at this ball, at least it was with Richard. "People might find it peculiar that I only danced once."
"Perhaps they shall think you a figment of their imagination. I care not. Try to slip away. I shall have to make my excuses to my cousin, then I may join you."
"All right."
Their dance ended and Elizabeth managed to slip away before people could converge on her. A lifetime of sneaking away from under her mother's watchful nose aided in her escape.
Richard had several people ask who his enchanting partner had been, but Richard evaded most questions before being unexpectedly--and temporarily--saved.
"In the library, Richard, if you please," Darcy commanded.
Richard followed his cousin, and the dancing continued.
Another pair of sharp eyes followed the tentative figure clinging to the wall for support. The eyes were a charming hazel, and took in and appreciated the lovely form they beheld.
The eyes belonged to a gentleman who had not been invited to the ball, but had managed to sneak in using the same manner they mysterious lady in blue had. The eyes had seen that same lady leave the Bennet cottage earlier that evening in a rather covert manner and the man guessed correctly that it was Eliza Bennet.
He chuckled, thinking how unlikely this scenario would have seemed to him ten years ago. Time had a way of changing things, and when time was not handy, he was man enough to change on his own. He had no interest in Eliza anymore, not that he really ever had. Still, he could not help thinking that she was a much smarter girl than he had ever given credit to, engaging herself to a belted earl.
And his quarry was a great deal more precious.
Deliberately staying in the shadows, for fear of seeing Sabrina, the woman he had attempted to marry before and had been denied, George Wickham approached his choice slowly, not wishing to draw attention to himself or frighten her. She saw him coming. Her eyes darted away, looking for a place to run, perhaps. But she could not run, for it might reflect badly on her brother.
"Dear Georgiana. I always knew you would be a beauty, but I must say you have exceeded all expectation."
Georgiana's fair skin turned pink. "I am afraid you have the advantage of me, sir."
George chuckled. "I am George Wickham. Do you not remember me, little George? You were once my shadow."
"The summer your father was so sick," Georgiana said, beaming. "You called me 'little George.' Odd that I had forgotten."
"You were but a child, and you had no reason to remember me. I take no offense, as long as you permit me to call you Georgiana, and on occasion, little George."
"I see no fault in that, Mr. Wickham."
"I insist you call me George."
"Should we not get confused, calling each other George? I shall call you Mr. Wickham for the present."
"Very well, Georgiana. May I have the honor of this dance?"
"Oh, I do not think...that is...well..." Georgiana could have pinched herself. "I am but fifteen, and not out. I do not think I should..."
"My dear, this is a masquerade ball."
"Yes, but I am a member of the family hosting the ball, and everyone knows me. If my aunt were to see me..."
"Hang your aunt. Dance with me."
Within even the most shy of young ladies is an impulse to do something forbidden. In the all-too-knowing eyes of George Wickham was temptation. A temptation Georgiana could not--and did not--want to resist.
"I believe I shall."
George smiled, trying to hold back his triumph. He led Georgiana to the dancing. Although she had never danced in public, Georgiana had been well-tutored and knew the dances quite well.
Soon, she was lost in the pleasure of new sensations--being the center of attention, dancing, and most importantly, George Wickham. The dance ended far too soon, and then George was gone, promising to contact her again. She was lost in thoughts of him, and believed him to be lost in thoughts of her.
She would have been sorely disappointed to know that his thoughts were on a lovely little brunette named Lydia, who had been encouraging him for quite some time.
Georgiana did not know that her brother had returned to the ballroom, which had precipitated her dancing partner's disappearance. Not that either of them had cause for concern. Darcy's attention was focused on Dr. McClain, for some reason. Georgiana, seeing her brother in heated discussion with their family physician, tried to make her way over to him.
Before she could reach him, however, he was gone, and several of society's matrons wanted to know who she had been dancing with--and why she had been dancing at all.
"How dare you humiliate Sabrina Tysen in this fashion," Darcy hissed at Richard.
"How dare you summon me into the library as if I were a child," Richard snapped back.
"You were acting like a fool. Everyone could see it. Sabrina was not so blinded by her love for you, she would have known it."
"I suppose you were more than eager to point it out to her."
"No. Unlike you, I was trying to spare her feelings. She is a good, decent young lady--"
"Are you insinuating that Elizabeth is none of those things?"
"I do not know Eliza Bennet well enough to say. I do know that no decent lady, engaged to an earl, would look at another man the way she looked at you."
Richard's hands clenched and he wanted with all his being to strike his cousin.
"Richard, we have known each other from the cradle. I had hoped that this marriage between you and Sabrina would mean we would get to recapture our boyhood friendship."
"I know."
"We have never disagreed on anything but one point--Eliza. Even as children, we disagreed about her."
"You were wrong then."
"Yes. But you are wrong now."
"Not about Elizabeth's character."
"Perhaps."
Richard looked at the grandfather clock. It was time he went to meet Elizabeth. "I have to go."
"Go where?"
"I have to leave before we exchange words and perhaps worse."
Darcy knew he was lying. "You are going to her."
Richard knew he was caught. "Yes."
"Richard--"
"Do not lecture me, Fitzwilliam. I cannot help my feelings on this matter."
"So you no longer care about Sabrina? You do not care of your ruination, her feelings, her humiliation--"
"If you are so bloody concerned about Sabrina Tysen, why don't you marry her?" Richard started to walk away.
Darcy grabbed Richard's shoulder, turned him around, and punched him. The blow might not have knocked him unconscious, but then he hit his head on the floor.
When he was certain his cousin would live, Darcy went to summon the doctor.
Elizabeth stared at her reflection in the pond water, barely visible despite the full moon shining.
She had no idea why she was here, except to finally convince Richard that she was not going to run away with him. She might have wanted to as a child. There was a part of her that might still wish to run away with him, but she would not do it. She could not hurt him like that.
But...
"Argh!" she screamed, standing and beginning to pace back and forth. "I have loved Richard since I was a child. Twelve years, I have loved him. I only agreed to marry Robin because Richard said he was marrying Sabrina. I do not love him. But do I love Richard? I thought I did."
Elizabeth kept muttering to herself and did not notice when Mr. Darcy approached, still wearing his mask.
"I cannot do this. Robin and Lady Grace have done so much for me. They do not deserve this." Tears formed in her eyes, and she raised them toward heaven. "What should I do?"
"Do about what?"
Elizabeth whirled to face him and screamed. Darcy removed his mask. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Have you forgotten, Eliza? This is my pond."
"My name is Elizabeth, sir. And I am quite aware that this pond, and everything else on this estate except my father's horses, are yours. Please forgive my impertinent question." She bowed ever so slightly.
Darcy laughed. "I shall forgive you when you are truly penitent."
"I beg your pardon! It is most rude not to accept a lady's apology."
"But as we both know, Elizabeth, you are no lady."
Elizabeth bristled. "If you are going to do nothing but insult me, sir, then you shall have to excuse me. I have had my faults listed by someone with far greater knowledge of them than you."
Darcy had to admire her spirit, and smiled. "Then please forgive me, for I was most ungentlemanlike to mention them."
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to inform me of your cousin's whereabouts."
Darcy's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "I believe Miss de Bourgh is--"
"You know quite well I was referring to Richard."
"Richard was unfortunately detained back at the house."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"I believe he fell and hurt his ankle. My physician, Dr. McClain, is tending to him at the moment."
Guilt replaced the wariness in Elizabeth's eyes. "Maybe I should--"
"No, Miss Bennet. Richard needs rest, a doctor's care, and his fiancée. Anything else may be considered de trop." Darcy's smile returned. "He asked me to meet you instead."
"Why would he do that? He knows I cannot--" She did not finish the sentence. It would do her parents no good to admit she could not stand him.
"He did not want you thinking he had abandoned you."
"I see." That was just like Richard, thinking of someone else when he was injured. "Thank you for informing me, Mr. Darcy. If you would excuse me, I am quite exhausted and wish to return home."
"A moment, Miss Bennet, please."
Elizabeth stopped walking. "Yes?"
"Richard told me about your sister Jane, and how depressed she had been."
"I see," she repeated, for lack of anything ladylike to say on the subject.
"He said I may have been mistaken in what I told Bingley about your sister's feelings for him. If I was in error, and your sister really did love him, then--"
The confirmation of what she long had suspected infuriated Elizabeth. Before she could think about it and decide not to do it, she balled up her fist and punched Darcy in the jaw. Darcy staggered back, for though Elizabeth only reached his shoulder in height she was quite a strong woman.
"You evil, brainless bas--knave! You arrogant, worthless--how dare you break Jane's heart that way? What gave you the right? Why?"
"It was not deliberate, Eliza. I honestly thought your sister did not return Bingley's affections. He merely asked--"
"Oh, I have no doubt how the whole mess came about. He asked a simple question and you rushed to give him an opinion! In the future, sir, please keep your opinions to yourself!" Elizabeth rushed away, heading for the Bennet cottage and safety.
Darcy watched her leave without attempting to stop her.
He had felt few emotions for Eliza Bennet in her lifetime, and none of them had been good. But in the moonlight on this evening, he felt something that was oddly like admiration. It was clear her feelings for those she loved ran deep. It was clear she would battle for what she believed in.
He respected that.
But Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man who could not afford these emotions for the enemy. Richard had been immobilized for the time being. Now he had only to distract Eliza until her fiancé came to collect her, and that would be an end to it.
Things would return to normal.
As a Colonel in the army, Richard Fitzwilliam had been commended for having a level head, a steady character, and infinite patience. None of which were in evidence when he awakened the morning after the masquerade ball to find his left leg bandaged from hip to toe.
"What in bloody hell did you do to me, Darcy?" he roared.
Almost immediately, his cousin appeared, followed by Dr. McClain and Sabrina.
"Good morning, Richard," Sabrina said cheerfully.
"Sabrina! I wasn't aware you were here. Please pardon my language."
"Of course, dear. I have no doubt that it was the stress of awakening after such a dreadful accident that caused the lapse."
"Darcy, what did you do--"
"All your cousin did was prevent you from injuring yourself far more than you might have been, Mr. Fitzwilliam," Dr. McClain said, looking studiously at the thickly-wrapped leg.
"I what?"
"Yes. You had a bit too much of my fine wine, cousin. Do you not remember?"
"What I remember is you--"
"I prevented you from trying to walk on that leg. You had obviously hurt it. I thought it was just the ankle, but Dr. McClain informed me that you did damage to your whole leg."
"I remember none of this. You hit me--"
"Of course I did! Stubborn fool that you are, you insisted on dancing with Sabrina again. I must say that I thought it showed a great deal of affection, Richard, but not the most sense."
Richard knew something was odd about Darcy's tale. He knew quite well that Darcy had punched him and that he had hit his head on the floor. He could have sworn that that was all.
Clearly he had been wrong, and he had the bandages to prove it.
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, darling, but it was hardly necessary. I would not endanger your health for the world."
Richard looked from the loving concern of Sabrina to the patronizing smugness of his cousin.
"You are not to get out of this bed for at least two weeks, young man," Dr. McClain told him sternly. "If you try walking on that leg, you shall suffer permanent damage and dancing shall be a thing of the past."
"Did you hire street thugs, Darcy?" Richard asked, his voice low and cold.
"Richard?" Sabrina looked confused for a moment, then she frowned. "Richard, your cousin would never do such a thing."
"You have no idea of what he is capable."
"He was positively horrified about your condition when Dr. McClain informed him of its' seriousness."
"As he was--" Richard stopped before he continued further. What he needed to say he could not say to her. "Doctor, Sabrina, could I have a moment alone with my cousin?"
Two pairs of eyes looked at Darcy, who nodded.
"Remember what I said, Mr. Fitzwilliam. Stay in bed," the doctor admonished.
"I shall return in just a few minutes, dear," Sabrina promised, escorting the doctor out of the bedroom.
Once the door had shut behind then, Darcy looked back at his cousin, whose face had become colder than it had been moments earlier.
"I lied to Sabrina and the doctor about how you received your injuries. I suspected that telling her we had argued over Eliza Bennet would have upset her greatly."
"Then how did I come by them?" Richard asked. "I do not seem to recall doing anything that would injure my leg."
"Well...you are quite correct--I did strike you. You struck me back." Darcy motioned to the dark circle around his left eye, mentally thanking Elizabeth Bennet for her quick temper as he did so.
"I do not recall doing that," Richard said. But clearly he had. "I am glad I did."
"Richard--"
"And my leg?"
"You tripped over a chair and landed awkwardly." Darcy stepped as close to the bed as he dared. "Richard, I wish to apologize for my horrid behaviour last night. I had no right to attack you as I did."
Richard looked at his cousin warily. "Is that so?"
"Yes. Apologies do not come easily to me, cousin, as you well know. I may not agree with what you feel for Eliza, and I certainly do not think...but that is beside the point. It is your life. You must do as you see fit."
Richard smiled. At last, his cousin was being reasonable. "Thank you, Darcy. I think if you got to know Elizabeth you would understand how I feel--although not too much. If you fell in love with her..." He became lost in his thoughts of a bright future with Elizabeth and did not see the shocked look on his cousin's face.
"P-perhaps," Darcy managed to say.
"You could do me a small favor, Darcy," Richard said.
"Yes?"
"Could you visit Elizabeth and explain what happened? She is probably furious with me. I hope she did not wait long..."
"I shall send your regards and apologies."
"Be civil, Darcy."
"For you, Richard, anything. Now, I must search out your Miss Bennet, so I shall leave you to Sabrina's tender care. I am certain I could not be leaving you in better hands."
Richard frowned and wondered if there was any sarcasm in that statement, but decided that Darcy had meant nothing by it. He thought about Darcy's seeming acceptance of the idea of his being with Elizabeth. Perhaps acceptance was not the right word--he had, after all, made that last statement about Sabrina.
Before Richard had time to contemplate further, Sabrina walked in, this time in the company of Mrs. Reynolds. Richard summoned a smile and the feeling of being trapped crept upon him.
It was going to be a very long two weeks.
Two days after the ball, Miss Bingley reluctantly had to return home to her sister's home in Bath. She had hoped to find Eliza Bennet and had been most vexed at being thwarted. She had also hoped that Mr. Darcy would at last propose marriage, and had been equally vexed in that pursuit.
Pemberley breathed a heavy sigh of relief once her carriage disappeared from view.
The morning after Caroline Bingley's departure, an event of great importance occurred at the Bennet cottage. Though Jane was most conscientious of her duties as the unofficial head cook at Pemberley, she had been persuaded away from a complicated poultry dish (Lady Catherine, who decided unexpectedly to extend her visit, had insisted) by a note, poorly spelled and even more poorly written.
Though the sender of the note had not the eloquence or education of his master, he had honesty and an artlessness that had always appealed to her. He also had a great abundance of love for her. He always had, but had only his own hesitation to blame for his prior lack of commitment.
Jane immediately rushed to the stables, knowing Elizabeth would be there. Tom had taken Sweet Liar for a ride, and thus the two young women were alone.
Elizabeth, fearing that Jane's exertion meant something terrible had happened, exclaimed, "Jane! has something happened to Papa? Mother?"
"No, Elizabeth, it is nothing bad." With pure joy shining in her eyes, she said, "He loves me."
Elizabeth went from fear to elation in mere moments. "Bingley?"
Jane nodded. Elizabeth threw her arms around her sister. "That's wonderful, Jane! Did he--"
"Yes."
"But...how...did he say why he had avoided you for so long?"
"He said he had been unsure of my feelings, and too shy to speak of his own for fear I would reject him." Jane laughed. "I always knew being beautiful would cause me trouble, for he said
he thought I would never think him handsome enough...how foolish! I think him the handsomest man of my acquaintance."
"Of course," Elizabeth said.
"Charles said that finally he could not stand not knowing my true feelings, but it did seem to him that we were both miserable. So he...he sent me the loveliest note, and asked to meet me in the garden, and when I arrived..." Jane broke off with a slight blush, the memory of a tentative kiss and the bold proposal never to fade in her mind.
"So...why did he finally declare himself?" Elizabeth asked, knowing full well that Jane's answer would not be what she knew to be the truth.
"It was the oddest thing. Charles said that Mr. Darcy talked to him this morning. Charles had asked him a while back whether or not he should ask me to marry him, and Mr. Darcy suggested he be cautious."
"I wonder why," Elizabeth muttered.
"Now, Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy is by nature a reserved gentleman, and it did not surprise me that he would advice Charles to do the same. What if I had not loved him?"
"What was so odd about Mr. Darcy speaking to him this morning?" Elizabeth decided not to comment further on the man's involvement.
"Oh...he said Mr. Darcy suggested to him that he should put himself out of his misery by taking a chance and telling me the truth. He said, 'Bingley, sometimes it pays to be honest.'"
"Jane, I told you to do that months ago."
"Yes, but I am a woman. Women are not supposed to be forward."
"Of course they are. How else do you think I won Ri--Lord Robin?" Elizabeth wanted to swallow her tongue. What a ghastly error she almost had made!
Jane was too happy to pay it any attention. "Charles told me that Mr. Darcy practically insisted he go speak to me. Oh...and Charles said I was to give this to you." Jane pulled a letter from her pocket and handed it to Elizabeth. The letter bore her name, written in an elegant hand. "And now I must tell my mother. Oh, Elizabeth! Is it possible for anyone to be this happy?"
"Yes, it is," she replied.
Jane left to tell Sandy the news. Elizabeth glanced at her letter. She sighed enviously, wishing she could be as happy as Jane at that moment.
Yet she was not. She had not been so joyous at hearing Richard speak that he was falling in love with her. She had not felt such happiness when Robin had asked her to marry him.
Blinking back tears, Elizabeth wondered, not for the first time, what the future held for her. She would marry Robin, she knew that. But would she ever see in her own eyes the happiness and love she had seen in Jane's?
Sniffling twice and telling herself that she should not be feeling so bad--for how many servant girls were engaged to earls?--Elizabeth broke the wax seal of the letter.
Dear Miss Bennet,Please forgive me for any wrong I may have done you in the past. I know that today's small role in this affair of your sister's cannot possibly atone for my sins against you, but I would hope it could be considered a peace offering.
I am also requesting the honour and pleasure of your company for tea this afternoon at four. My sister is to perform several selections on the pianoforte for a few other guests. It would give me hope that we were mending our differences if you were to attend.
Your humble servant,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
For the first time, Elizabeth thought of Darcy's role in bringing Jane and Bingley together. She figured it had not been a difficult one, but he did not have to do it.
She recalled that he had been about to say something about it before she hit him at the pond.
With a flushing cheek, she realized that if anything, her actions and words of that evening should have discouraged him from doing anything like he had done today.
Elizabeth read her letter again, a small glow forming in her heart. An apology from Mr. Darcy...how rare was that?
Yes, Mr. Darcy. I shall be most honoured to attend your tea.
Almost immediately after extending the invitation to Miss Bennet, Darcy regretted it. Had Elizabeth known this and guessed at the reason, she would have been partially correct. She would have attributed it to his being nervous about her behaviour and his reluctance to invite his coachman's daughter to a social gathering. Darcy had no doubts about her ability to deport herself as a lady--after all, she had been able to convince London society that she was one of them. But his concerns about inviting her were due to the fact that his aunt knew who she was, and knew that she was to marry Robert Hamilton.
How she knew these things when she had not set foot in London since the death of her husband was a complete mystery to Darcy. And of course, Lady Catherine de Bourgh did not approve, a fact which she made quite clear when she heard that Elizabeth was with her parents.
"You should refuse to give her a place to stay," Lady Catherine had said bluntly. "She is an impostor and a most impudent one at that. Imagine!"
"She has done nothing that would warrant my forcing her to leave," Darcy replied. "My father provided the cottage for her family in his will, and thus I do not think I could make her leave if I so wished."
His aunt had been most displeased that he would not take it upon himself to remove "the upstart" from Pemberley. Darcy was uncertain as to why Elizabeth's continued presence bothered his aunt so, but then he had never been particularly interested in her reasoning. He tried not to be, for he inevitably had to think of his cousin Anne and his aunt's plans for them.
Still, he had to worry about what his aunt's reaction would be to their last-minute guest. It was not Elizabeth's behaviour that worried him. It was his aunt's.
Sad thing to think, that your coachman's daughter shall undoubtedly act better than the daughter of an earl. Of course, Lady Catherine would never act any other way.
As the hour approached four, the guests who were already within the manor assembled in the music room. Darcy beamed as Georgiana entered the room with her music sheets in her hands. There was something different about her, he thought. He could not quite figure out what it was, but it seemed to him that she was practically glowing.
Just behind Georgiana was Mrs. Younge, and the smile in her eyes confused Darcy even more than the glow in his sister's. Darcy attributed this to his sister's good spirits, though he had never known Georgiana's mood to affect Mrs. Younge's except to draw criticism when she was exuberant.
Sabrina joined them from the small north drawing room, where Richard was now resting. It would have been unseemly for Sabrina to remain in his room alone with him, and yet Darcy had wanted for them to spend as much time as they could together. The doctor had been persuaded to allow Richard to sit in a public room...but not too public, Darcy thought, for he would not be joining the party today.
Lady Catherine and Anne joined them a few minutes later. Lady Catherine was far too elegantly dressed for an afternoon tea in the country, but no one would have the audacity to mention it. Anne was looking in good health, and that was the best thing Darcy could find to say about her. It was not that Anne did not have the potential to become a lovely young woman, for she did. It was Anne's poor health and her mother's continual mollycoddling that prevented her from being more than she was.
You should not be so harsh, Darcy. She would be your bride if Lady Catherine has her way.
"Good afternoon, nephew," Lady Catherine said. "This is a lovely room you have selected for this afternoon's gathering. The light is quite lovely here, and it is not too small. Yes, indeed, quite a lovely room. Anne was just agreeing with me as we entered."
"Thank you, Lady Catherine."
Anne smiled at him, which Darcy returned. He wondered sometimes if she too considered it a forgone conclusion that they would marry someday soon, though her manner toward him never indicated that she cared one way or the other.
Darcy had also extended an invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Tysen, and the couple joined them a few minutes before the scheduled hour. Darcy thanked them for allowing Sabrina to stay on at Pemberley after Richard's "accident," stating that his cousin would have had it no other way.
"She is quite the angel of mercy, Mrs. Tysen," Darcy said. "My cousin is lucky that she shall someday be his wife."
Mr. Tysen smiled. "I think we may safely say that we are the lucky ones, Mr. Darcy. All we have ever wanted for our Sabrina is that she find someone to love, and she has done that."
Lady Catherine frowned. "I consider it most fortunate that my nephew is marrying your daughter, but suppose that she had not fallen in love with someone of such good character and breeding. Would you consider yourselves fortunate?"
Darcy nearly groaned. Was it possible that his aunt had discovered that he had invited Miss Bennet to tea? Was that the reason behind her somewhat offensive question?
Mrs. Tysen was clearly at a loss as to how to answer the question. She did not wish to offend a lady of such connections as Lady Catherine, but at the same time, she had to remember that she herself had had very little fortune or family when she married Mr. Tysen.
"I hardly see how it matters, Lady Catherine, as she is in love with and is marrying Richard," Darcy said.
At that precise moment, the clock struck four and a maid entered the music room to announce, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Elizabeth swept into the room, a small smile on her face as she took in the scene around her. Mr. and Mrs. Tysen barely knew her, but had heard of her upcoming marriage and of her reputation in London as a charming young woman. Sabrina smiled warmly at Elizabeth. Elizabeth's gaze went past them and latched onto Georgiana, who smiled shyly at her.
Elizabeth's smile became warmer when she looked at his sister, Darcy noticed. He wondered why he felt a deep feeling of pleasure at that thought.
Elizabeth's eyes briefly met Lady Catherine's before settling on him, and the moment their eyes met, Darcy knew that her feelings for him, though probably still not friendly, were warmer than they had been at the start of this day.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he said.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy," she replied. "Thank you for extending the invitation."
Darcy nodded. "I believe you know Mr. and Mrs. Tysen, and I know you shall remember Sabrina and you know Georgiana."
"Of course."
"I do not know if you have ever been introduced to my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
Elizabeth's lips twitched. She knew without being told that Lady Catherine was aware of her true identity, for the woman was glaring daggers at her. No doubt she was highly mortified that a servant's daughter was joining her for tea, in spite of whom she was marrying.
I may very well outrank her within a year, Elizabeth thought impishly. I shall remember to tell Robin that I have found a good use for him. He shall think it a fine joke.
"It is...an honour," Elizabeth said with as much sincerity as would pass muster.
Lady Catherine said nothing.
"And this is my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh," Darcy concluded.
Elizabeth looked at the pale young woman, who was standing out of her mother's vision and smiling hesitantly. Almost immediately, Elizabeth felt as though she had a connection to her. Not that the two had anything in common, but for some reason, Elizabeth had the sense that Anne was not what she appeared to be.
Nonsense. Sheer, utter nonsense.
"Miss de Bourgh," Elizabeth said.
"Shall we sit?" Darcy motioned for everyone to sit on the furniture. Elizabeth had hoped to sit in a chair alone, but wound up sitting on the sofa between Miss Anne de Bourgh and Sabrina. The Tysens shared a smaller sofa, while Darcy, Lady Catherine, and Georgiana seated themselves in the chairs.
The tea was poured expertly, and the conversation began with the usual talk of small matters. The Tysens complimented Darcy on his excellent masked ball, and commented about the mysterious lady in blue who had appeared for mere moments. Darcy stiffened at the mention, as did Elizabeth.
"She certainly made the party a success," Mrs. Tysen said. "My dear friend Rebecca Kinsey and I must have spent half of the ball trying to winkle out her identity. No one seemed to know who she was."
Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, wondering if he would tell them who she was. Clearly, Mrs. Tysen expected him to know, as it was his party.
"I have been unable to discover who she was," Darcy said. "However, she may have been another of my guests wishing to cause a stir by creating an air of mystery. I suppose, as she has helped me maintain my reputation as an excellent host, that I should make more of an effort to find out so I may thank her."
Mrs. Tysen chuckled, then turned to Elizabeth. "Miss Bingley was most disappointed that you were not at the ball, Miss Bennet. Were you unwell?"
"I fear that I was," Elizabeth replied. "However, I was told by many different people that Caroline Bingley was searching for me."
"Then why did you not meet with her, knowing that she was going to great lengths to find you?" Lady Catherine demanded. "As I understood it, she left without ever seeing you." Before Elizabeth could answer, Lady Catherine continued, "I find that sort of behaviour to be most rude."
"Miss Bingley had a rather different reason for wishing to find me than you think, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth said. "Under the circumstances, I felt it would be best if we did not meet."
No one spoke, for they knew Elizabeth was correct.
Lady Catherine, slightly flustered by the calmness with which Elizabeth had responded to her question, turned to Sabrina. "Have you and my nephew set a wedding date?" she asked.
Elizabeth's head turned sharply to look at Sabrina.
Why are you concerned with that? After all, it is not as if you love him. You admitted as much to yourself the night of the ball. Besides, everyone at Pemberley has heard what happened to him and he has not once asked for you.
"We have not," Sabrina replied. "We have thought about marrying in the early winter, perhaps, only--"
"I understand it that you are also engaged to be married, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine interrupted.
"Yes, I am."
"To Lord Robert Hamilton?"
"Yes."
"I must confess, Miss Bennet, that I am not entirely certain how this came about."
Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, and though she knew she should not tease a person of Lady Catherine's stature, she could not resist.
"As I recall, ma'am, we were introduced at a dinner held by his mother, Lady Grace. He was the first gentleman I danced with at my London debut, and throughout the Season we saw each other frequently. Lord Robin felt as though we would suit each other quite well and asked me if I would marry him. I...felt much as he did, and so agreed to become his countess. I should imagine--and hope--that all marriages begin in such a fashion."
Darcy hid his quivering lips in his teacup, noticing that everyone else in the room--excepting Lady Catherine and Mrs. Younge, whose smile had long since disappeared--had had the same urge to drink tea.
Georgiana recovered the quickest, and declared, "I believe I would like a little music. Miss Bennet, would you be so kind as to turn the pages for me?"
"Of course," Elizabeth replied, standing up. The ladies walked to the pianoforte, and Georgiana seated herself at it. After arranging the music as she liked, Georgiana began to play.
"Do you play at all, Miss Bennet?" Georgiana asked.
"Very little. As you undoubtedly recall, my younger sister Mary played beautifully, but she was the only one who could. Lady Grace insisted that I take lessons while in London, but very few of them took." Elizabeth smiled ruefully. "I guess some of us were not born to be musical, which is a good thing."
"Why do you think so? I cannot imagine my life without my music."
"If everyone were musical, no one would truly appreciate the music," Elizabeth said. "I did learn one piece of music quite well, but I fear to play it today."
"Oh, you must."
"No, no. Compared to you, I play with such a heavy hand that I would be considered a beast."
"What are the two of you speaking of so privately over there?" Lady Catherine called out to them. "We wish to be included in your conversation."
"We were merely discussing the music, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth replied. "Georgiana plays so well that it puts me to shame."
"You play, Miss Bennet?" Lady Catherine's eyebrows rose. "I wonder how your father and mother were ever able to give you lessons. Although I guess you relied upon the generosity of my late brother."
"Actually, no. Lady Grace saw to my music teacher, though as I was telling Georgiana, I was not his best student. It was my sister who was dependent upon the late Mr. Darcy's generosity in permitting her the pianoforte. She needed no one to teach her music."
Lady Catherine gave Elizabeth a wintry smile. "I suspect that you are not telling us the truth about your abilities, Miss Bennet. False modesty is a dreadful trait for a lady to have. You simply must play for us. Georgiana, get up and let Miss Bennet play."
"Lady Catherine, I wish I could--"
"I think it would be best if we let my sister finish what she is playing," Darcy said. "It would be rude to interrupt."
"Especially for one who plays as dreadfully as I," Elizabeth added.
"I shall not be gainsaid. You must play as soon as Georgiana is finished," Lady Catherine insisted.
At that moment, Georgiana completed her song and looked at Elizabeth. The rest of the room applauded politely, though it was unlikely that any had been paying much attention to the young lady at the pianoforte until Lady Catherine had called their attention to Miss Bennet. Georgiana rose from the bench and motioned for Elizabeth to take her place.
"Very well," Elizabeth said, seating herself at the piano bench. She nearly blanched when she looked at the difficult piece Georgiana had been playing just moments earlier. It had not seemed so hard when she had been turning her pages.
The entire room was silent and Elizabeth feared she would not be able to recall how her piece of music went. She looked at the expectant faces sitting across the room from her--Georgiana's now among them.
Lady Catherine clearly expected her to fail, as did Mrs. Younge. Georgiana looked hopeful. The three Tysens all had looks of encouragement. Anne de Bourgh had her face averted from the piano, but Elizabeth suspected the girl was smiling.
Then Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy. The expression on his face was somewhat cryptic, as he had neither his aunt's smug expectation of her failure or his sister's unflagging belief that she would succeed.
It was almost as though he were daring her to do well, to convince him that she could be considered an accomplished lady.
With great deliberation, Elizabeth began her piece slowly. She gained speed as she gained confidence, neither of which failed her as she began to sing.
There were bells on a hill
But I never heard them ringing
No I never heard them at all
Till there was youThere were birds in the sky
But I never saw them winging
No I never saw them at all
Till there was youAnd there was music
And there were wonderful roses
They tell me
In sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dewThere was love all around
But I never heard it singing
No I never it at all
Till there was you.*
Elizabeth finished playing with a flourish and then looked over at the group listening to her. Lady Catherine looked disgruntled, while everyone else looked pleased.
She looked again at Mr. Darcy. His dark eyes were filled with an undefinable emotion, and he was smiling at her. Hesitating only a moment, she returned his smile.
"Miss Bennet, would you allow me the honour of walking with you back to your parents' house?" Mr. Darcy asked after the other guests had either departed or returned to their rooms.
"I would be delighted," Elizabeth replied. "Although to be quite honest, I had not intended to return straight home."
"Would you like to take a walk through the park?"
Elizabeth had planned to go to the stables and talk to her father, but she did need to say something to Mr. Darcy and she wished to have complete privacy when she did so.
"I thank you, yes."
Elizabeth waited until they were well into the park before speaking on the subject which had been foremost in her mind all day. "Sir, I wish to thank you for encouraging your valet to speak to my sister. Although I cannot say that I really approve of the fact that Bingley felt he needed your approval, it was kind of you to help them in that way."
"I was merely trying to make amends for my rather arrogant discouragement of his feelings before. You had made it quite clear that it was wrong of me to do so."
Elizabeth blushed. "Yes...about what happened that night at the pond. I should not have hit you as I did. I cannot imagine what you think of me after my decidedly unladylike behaviour of that night."
"You merely did what any man would do had he discovered his sister had been wronged."
"Yet I am not a man. I am a woman, and according to Lady Grace, I am supposed to be a lady. Enough of a lady to marry an earl. It was wrong of me to hit you."
"I accept your apology. I hope I never give you cause to hit me again, however. You are quite strong for a lady."
Elizabeth smiled. "I suspect it comes from having learned to handle difficult horses."
"Did you use your knowledge in that area to handle my aunt this afternoon?"
Elizabeth's smile turned into laughter, but she made no reply. It would not be polite of her to criticize his relations to him.
"That was another thing for which I wished to apologize. Lady Catherine..." Darcy hesitated. "My aunt can be rather difficult. She is also implacable when it comes to her opinions on society."
"I am well aware that were Society to know that I am merely a coachman's daughter, I would never be accepted by them no matter how proper I acted or whom I married. I still fear that someone may discover this."
"I was under the impression that Society knew your origins."
"They think I am a poor relation of Lady Grace's. Because her daughter died young, and because she took a liking to me, they think I am due to receive a dowry from her. Now, of course, they think that she intended me for her son all along and that I merely needed the polish of a London Season in order to make me suitable to be his bride."
"Do you not think any part of that is true?"
"I do not know. I thought..." Elizabeth did not finish, lost in her thoughts.
"What?"
"It is nothing." Certainly nothing which I should tell you.
Darcy desperately wished she would talk to him openly; however, her deep-seated dislike of him was something that would take time to overcome.
And just why would you wish to do that? You need only keep her away from your cousin until Lord Robin arrives.
"How is your cousin?" Elizabeth asked. "I have heard his leg was grievously injured."
"I would not go so far as to call his injury grievous, but it was somewhat serious. He has been ordered to rest for two weeks. Richard did not take the news well, I fear."
"I suspect it is something of a challenge to keep such an active man resting in one place. Richard must be furious."
"He was," Darcy said, his thoughts staying focused on keeping her away from his cousin. "He has accepted that should he move from his chamber, he could permanently injure himself. Richard also knows that Sabrina has a sixth sense about him and knows when he is contemplating getting up."
"Sabrina is with him?" Elizabeth was shocked. Lady Grace had made it quite clear that being alone with a gentleman in such an intimate place was inappropriate.
"Chaperoned at all times by Mrs. Reynolds and at least one housemaid. All the proprieties are being observed, though it is to your credit that you worry about Sabrina." Darcy deliberately made the wrong assumption. "I know that the two of you are somewhat friendly."
"I do--" Elizabeth was about to say that she did not know Sabrina well enough to consider her a friend. She was uncertain whether or not she would ever consider her one, given her uncertain feelings toward the young woman's intended husband. "I do think her to be something of a friend, although I do not know her as well as your sister does."
The two walked in silence for a few minutes. Elizabeth could not help thinking that it was rather nice to be able to walk with someone and not feel the need to speak, though she had chastised him during their one dance in London for not speaking to her. Were she with Robin, she knew, she would feel compelled to speak and keep him occupied. With Darcy, however, she had the idea that he was as content to have silence as she was.
And in this she was correct, for Darcy could not help thinking the same thing she was. It was nice that Elizabeth was not the usual Society Miss, who thought that the way to win a man's heart was to captivate him with charm, wit, and nonstop empty-headed chatter. He thought it lovely that she was content to merely walk through the park without making the usual comment of how beautiful it was and how proud he could be of it.
They made their way back through the park and toward the Bennet cottage without saying anything to each other. When they reached the front door, Elizabeth turned to Darcy and said, "Thank you." She did not elaborate, but he did not need her to do so.
"You are welcome." Darcy was about to take his leave but he stopped. "Miss Bennet..."
"Yes?"
"If you would like...would you do me the honour of walking through the park tomorrow?"
Elizabeth smiled warmly. "I would enjoy that."
Darcy bowed to her and walked away.
"Elizabeth? Is that you?" Sandy yelled from upstairs. "Elizabeth? How did tea go? Was that Mr. Darcy leaving? What did he want? How is--"
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth walked into the house and rushed up the stairs to answer all of her mother's questions. She could think of no better way to keep her mind from the strange feelings she had had during her walk with Mr. Darcy.
*"Till There Was You" by Meredith Willson. Author's note: Sorry for taking poetic license and having Elizabeth sing a song that won't be written for another hundred years or so, but if she only had one song to know, I thought it should be this one.
Elizabeth had trouble sleeping that evening, and she would have had a difficult time explaining why. She could not get out of her head the comfortable feeling she had had while walking with Mr. Darcy. Had it been any other gentleman, she would have interpreted his silence as boredom, or perhaps shyness. Yet she could not attribute either of these traits to him, and attempting to figure him out kept her up late.
Elizabeth woke early and dressed almost as quickly as she woke. Although Mr. Darcy had not said when he would arrive for the walk, she hoped it would be early. She even considered going riding, but decided that she could do that later in the afternoon. She chose her gown with care--a dark blue morning dress that would keep her warm. She pulled her hair back into an unfashionable but neat knot, then looked in the small mirror on her nightstand to see how she looked. With a sigh, she realized that she could not begin to call herself beautiful. Merely respectable, as far as her appearance went.
Elizabeth slipped past her mother, which was for the best since Sandy was still upset with her daughter for being rather vague about tea the day before. She headed for the stables, chuckling to herself as she remembered her father intervening on her behalf, saying that perhaps the experience was not as wonderful as Sandy would wish.
"She did, after all, endure the presence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh," Tom said.
It was Tom that Elizabeth sought out at the moment. He was putting Sweet Liar through his paces and smiling as the horse performed admirably.
"Good morning, Elizabeth!" he called. Tom's smile turned brighter at his daughter's cheerful expression. She had seemed much happier last night after tea, making him suspect that Lady Catherine had been unable to get the best of his daughter.
Though he should be perfectly mortified, Tom found that he was delighted by the thought.
"Good morning, Papa. 'Tis a beautiful morning," she replied.
"That it is. Do you wish to take Lying Lydia out for a ride this morning?"
"No. I am planning on going for a walk."
Tom led his horse back to the stables, where Elizabeth followed. She watched as her father cared for Sweet Liar. Thinking that she should check on her horse, she pulled the two apples she had brought for that purpose from her pocket and walked to Lying Lydia's stall.
"Hello, precious," she murmured gently.
"Elizabeth, I know you have only been back a short time, but have you noticed anything different about your sister Lydia?" Tom asked.
"In what way, Papa?"
Tom frowned. He had waited until now to express his concerns to his daughter though he had had them for some time.
"Well, you know that she has always been a flighty sort, and not given to thinking of the consequences of her actions."
"Of course."
"I worry that she has been meeting someone in secret. A man."
Elizabeth turned to face her father. "Do you think she has..." She trailed off with a blush. Being so involved with horses, Elizabeth knew more than most unmarried women, and certainly more than the ladies of society. Still, there were certain things that did not get discussed in public, and certainly not with one's father.
"I do," Tom said frankly. "Lydia is as foolish a girl as I have ever seen, but this would not trouble me if I knew who it was."
"He is not from Pemberley?"
"I do not believe he is. The night of the masked ball, she disappeared near midnight and did not return until morning. I searched everywhere, Elizabeth."
"Perhaps it was one of the guests."
"No. Lydia knows my opinions on that well enough to know that I shall force her to leave--"
"Papa...she may not think that applies now."
"Why would anything have changed?"
"I think because I am marrying Robin. Lydia sees that I am marrying 'above my station,' as you and Lady Catherine de Bourgh would say, and she thinks she can as well."
Tom sighed. "I knew your going to London would bring nothing but trouble. Tried telling your mother that, but she would hear none of my objections."
"It was for the best, Papa. You said that yourself when you sent me away. That you did not know just how much things would change is not your fault. No one could have anticipated my meeting Lady Grace."
"Well, my reasons for not thinking it one of the guests is more than my objections to her chasing after Quality. She started sneaking out the week before the ball and has been gone nearly every other night since. And as I said, I have not been able to find her anywhere on the nights she has disappeared. There is also no word from any of the other servants about her."
"In other words, if she were with someone here at Pemberley, the gossip would have revealed his identity."
"Precisely."
"I swear, we servants gossip more than the ton."
"And we are far more accurate in our gossip, which is why I know it cannot be anyone from Pemberley."
"Do the others know she is seeing someone?"
"I cannot be certain. If she is cautious enough to be with someone other than one of the footmen, and bright enough not to be found anywhere on the grounds, it is not likely that anyone knows."
"To be certain, you know every hiding place on this estate, though I do not wish to know how you came by this knowledge." There was a teasing glint in Elizabeth's eye.
"I must have some place to hide from your mother when she is in a state," Tom replied, his eyes identical to his daughter's. But the laughter faded and his concern once again appeared. "I have known for some time that she was not going to turn out well in spite of everything I could try to instill good sense in her. Your mother's indulgence will inevitably reap its' just due. Were things the same as they were a year ago, I may not even have cared. But now..."
"Now what?"
"There is your future to consider. 'Tis bad enough that your family is in the servant class--"
"Papa, I have never cared about that. Robin does not care, either."
"But the society he belongs to does. It has been pure luck that has gotten you this far. It was why I feared your return, though I wished it more than anything in the world. When you marry your Lord Robin next summer, I shall not be there. Nor will any member of your family."
Elizabeth was stunned. "But Papa--"
"I have decided that this would be for the best, Elizabeth. Your mother has already spoken to you about coming to live with you after your marriage, and I cannot allow that to happen. It is far easier for one person to stage a deception than many, and should your mother attempt to enter society your origins would be discovered. You--and Lord Robin--would become the laughingstocks of the country. Your children would never live down the scandal. Not only that, but London would resent you forever for making them out to be fools."
"I am not ashamed of who I am. I told Lady Grace that I wanted to be honest with people, because to marry someone without their knowing the truth would be a deception of the worst kind. Had I agreed to marry anyone but Robin, I would have been honest with them before accepting a proposal."
"Is that why you are marrying him?"
"No! Papa, how can you think that of me?" Elizabeth was hurt at her father's disbelief.
"I can think it, Elizabeth, because you have not been happy over the last several weeks. When Lord Robin's name is mentioned, you do not react like a woman in love. If you loved Lord Robin enough to marry him, you would not let your feelings for Richard Fitzwilliam affect you as they have."
"I do not love Richard. We are merely friends."
Tom looked at his daughter without saying a word.
"I cannot go back on my word. I promised Robin I would marry him, and no matter what I may feel about any other man, I intend to do just that. I do not know that I love Richard, for what I feel for him is different than what I feel for Robin, and yet I cannot honestly say that I think I am in love with Robin." Elizabeth began pacing. "It does not matter. I want my family to be there when I get married. You are coming. And I do not see why Lydia's wild behaviour should matter in the slightest."
"What do you think would happen if Lydia, thinking that by giving herself to a gentleman he shall marry her, exposes her deed? Or what if circumstances expose her deed for her? Lydia does not know how to be discreet. She shall undoubtedly announce what she has been doing. She shall be exposed as your sister by all and sundry who know of your connection, especially that awful Miss Bingley."
"What is it you are suggesting I do?" Elizabeth asked.
"The only thing I can suggest. Marry Robin when you return to him at the end of the summer."
"If I do that, Papa, people will think that we were forced to marry in haste. You would not wish for my reputation to become tarnished, do you?"
"Of course I do not. I do not think there would be anything wrong with your marrying Robin at the end of the summer, especially since everyone knows you were coming home to Derbyshire and he is in Somerset or wherever he is. I think a small, simple wedding is the answer."
"Mother would never forgive me."
"You would not be around for your mother to forgive." Tom looked away from his daughter when he said that, tending instead to one of the Pemberley horses.
Elizabeth stopped pacing and looked at him. "Papa?" she whispered.
"It would be for the best. We have denied to the one person who would ask that you are related to us. If you were never to come back..."
Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "You cannot mean that. You cannot mean that you never wish to see me again."
"Of course I do not!" Tom turned back to face her, his own eyes tearing as he did so. "You, of all my children, are the one I never hoped to lose. I never wanted you to leave Pemberley, but I knew you would not be truly happy unless you did. And though I knew it would likely end this way, I did not want you to go to Lady Grace and be presented in Society."
"I do not care what they say to me or what they do. I shall never abandon my family for society's sake."
"And what about Lord Robin's? Would you have a man who has been born to privilege and expects it as his due to be humiliated? Would you have him reduced to being nothing in the eyes of the world to which he belongs? Would you--"
"Stop!" Elizabeth cried out.
"I do not wish to say these things to you, but I must. We have but this one summer, my daughter. After that, you must stay away from Pemberley."
Elizabeth felt as though time had been turned back for her, and it was last year. Her father, telling her that she had to go to London because it was the best thing for her. Her mother's smug look when she finally got her wish--to see the back of her second child. The panicked feeling when she realized that she would not see Pemberley for at least a year, perhaps never.
Now she knew.
Never again had come.
With an almost inhuman sob, Elizabeth whirled away from her father and blindly made her way out of the stables. She did not take the time to look back and see her father standing at the entrance, looking as though someone had stabbed him in the gut.
Elizabeth tore through the park, not looking to see where she was going, though she knew instinctively where she was. She heard nothing of her surroundings, only the echoes of her father's words to her...and the knowledge from her own inner voice telling her that he was right.
She managed to stop herself before she actually fell into the pond, stopping and practically collapsing in a heap on the ground. Burying her face in her arms, Elizabeth sobbed for several minutes before she heard the voice behind her.
"Miss Bennet! Did you not hear me calling you for the past five minutes? What is the matter?"
Her cheeks turned a deep crimson as she realized that Mr. Darcy must have seen at least part of the scene between her father and herself. And had followed her from the stables.
But he had asked what was wrong. Perhaps he had not been a witness to that unbearable scene.
"It is nothing," she said quietly. "Nothing you need concern yourself with."
"On the contrary, Miss Bennet. When I see my coachman looking as though someone has dealt him a mortal blow and I find you here sobbing as though your father has died, I know something is greatly wrong."
Elizabeth looked up at him. Though she did not see any sort of presumption in his manner, his words alone were enough to infuriate her. "Can the servants have no private matters here at Pemberley? Can you not leave things as they are? Can I...can I..." Elizabeth stopped, tears continuing to stream down her face as she ran out of energy and anger. "I can never come back," she said brokenly.
"To Pemberley?"
She nodded. "My father does not intend to see me married. He feels it would be best if we never saw each other again after this summer. He is afraid that...that..."
"He is afraid that the fact he is a coachman and your mother a cook would be held against you were anyone to find out."
She nodded. "I have tried telling him that I am proud of who I am, but he is afraid that they would drag me down. How could he think that? He is worth ten of them! Jane is a far better person than nearly every single so-called lady I met in London. They were nice to me because I was popular, but I am certain they took every opportunity to mock me behind my back. If I do not care what people say--if Robin does not care what they say, why should he?"
"Elizabeth, I am not a parent in the technical sense, but as you know, since my parents died I have had the responsibility of taking care of my sister."
"Yes, I know."
"In some ways, that is much like being a parent, especially since Georgiana is so much younger than I. I can tell you this from experience--there is no hurt that is as bad as that done to a loved one, especially to a child. If you do not believe me, just think of how you yourself reacted when I admitted to my part in the business between your sister and Bingley."
Elizabeth blushed again.
"Please do not apologize for hitting me. You did that more than adequately yesterday."
"But I do not care. I told him that."
"And he knows it to be true. But what if something were to happen, and the truth were to get out? You would care, more than you think, not only for yourself, but also for Lord Robin and Lady Grace. They would be in the thick of the scandal along with you."
"I never wanted to lie to anyone," Elizabeth said. "I tried to tell Lady Grace that. I wanted to be as honest as possible, because anyone wishing to marry me would think that at the very least I was a lady of good background. And I knew that if I considered accepting any of them that my deception would end."
"That might not be true. You may have found someone so in love with you that he would not have cared about your background."
"No, no. I spent an entire London Season trying to find such a man. I thought there were one or two who might be what I wanted, but I would hear them making comments about...things when they were not aware of my presence. I knew that were I to reveal the truth, it would all be over. Who knows what people would have thought of Lady Grace."
"Is that why you agreed to marry Robin Hamilton?"
"No." Elizabeth was loathe to tell him why, for she knew he did not approve of her.
"Did it have anything to do with the fact that my cousin was revealed to be engaged to Sabrina Tysen?"
Elizabeth had forgotten how observant he was, damn him.
"You do not need to answer that question. I have suspected for some time what the truth was."
Elizabeth's laugh was cold. "Do not fear that I would ever ruin Richard's life. Though he began to fancy himself in love with me, I know that he is only enchanted by my looks and the poise I gained in London. I am not going to end my engagement to Robin. If that is all you wished to know, Mr. Darcy, then you have gotten your wish."
He looked at her with steady eyes. After a minute, Elizabeth began to get very nervous. Finally, he said, "Does Robin know you do not love him?"
"I fail to see what that has to do with this conversation," she replied. "I have told you what you have undoubtedly been waiting to hear, as you have taken every opportunity to insure that I am aware of Sabrina Tysen's existence. Now would you please leave me be?"
"I think it matters a great deal," Darcy said. "I have known you since you were a young girl, Elizabeth. I remember the letters you used to send Richard--far more than he ever sent to you. And I remember that--"
"You cannot have it both ways, Mr. Darcy. You cannot wish that I stay engaged to Lord Robin yet at the same time encourage me to remember my feelings for another man."
"You have always been a girl to whom emotion meant something. Please do not take offense, but your parents...you are right. Tom is worth ten of the men who gad about London calling themselves 'Quality.' But..." Darcy sighed. "But your mother...well, she is..."
"I know." Elizabeth's voice was so low he could barely hear her. "My mother is the reason I shall never see my father again. He did not say that expressly, but I know in my heart that is true."
"They are two completely different creatures. Tom should never have married her, for to marry where there is no common ground is nearly as bad as marrying someone who is too much like you. Sandy has never been Tom's equal in anything, and it has caused a rift in their marriage which can never be mended. I have always thought that you wanted something more than that."
"I cannot imagine what gave you that impression, since I generally did not share my thoughts with you and I somehow doubt Richard would share what I told him."
"You may not think that I have the right to know much about people, but where the people of Pemberley are concerned I know a great deal for good reason. You have never actually been in my employ, but I know nearly as much about your life as if I had lived it."
"Why? You have never liked me. I never sought your good opinion--never cared, in fact. Indeed, I would have thought that you would like nothing better than to ruin me."
"Yes, you made that quite clear when we were in London. As to why...because you were important to...to Tom."
Elizabeth's eyes again filled with tears. "I am rarely this weepy, but I cannot bear the fact that he actually said he thought it best if I not see him again."
"He did not say that. He said he thought it best if you did not return to Pemberley."
"It is tantamount to the same thing. How often does my father travel from here?" She brushed back her tears with an angry hand. "I am to gain respectability, a fortune, a husband, a title...and all I must give up in exchange is my family. How can I possibly...I was happier a year ago! Now I know why my father never wanted me to leave. Now I know why it is better to remain with your own kind of people. I was such a fool think that I could belong with them and still be part of my...my..." Elizabeth was overcome with her emotion and words failed her.
She did not realize that Darcy had put his arms around her until she felt his breath in her hair. "The choice is ultimately yours, Elizabeth. If you love Robin enough to lose your family forever, then he is the luckiest man alive. I would hope a woman would love me as much, though I have serious doubts that I shall ever find her."
Elizabeth sobbed harder. She had promised to marry Robin and could not go back on her promise. She loved her family with her whole being and could not give them up. It did not seem fair that she should have to choose, yet she knew that one never received anything from life without paying a price for it.
"Shhh...everything shall be fine, Eliza...do not cry..."
Elizabeth had never thought she would like the shortened version of her name, especially not from Mr. Darcy. Yet the way he said her name seemed as much of an endearment as "darling."
Elizabeth looked up at him. He was looking at her with the oddest expression on his face, and before she could stop him, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.
Never in her life had Elizabeth felt such a jolt as this kiss. Her entire body seemed to come alive in his arms, every nerve stood on alert, every sensation before this mere pinpricks compared to the sensations going through her now. Very tentatively, she deepened the kiss, though she had not the slightest idea of what she was doing.
Fortunately, he seemed to know, for he responded by tightening his arms around her. She sensed that he was exercising a great deal of restraint from the tension she felt in his body.
After a few, agonizing seconds, Elizabeth felt him loosen his grip on her. She pulled back from his embrace to see his stunned expression. She had a feeling that it matched hers.
"I...I...I am so...I do not want you to think..." he stuttered.
"No! I do not think...think what?"
"I do not want you to think that I think you are...because I do not. I do not know what...no, I do not mean that. I am not...I..."
"Oh!" Elizabeth was still uncertain what he was wanting to say. "It is all right. I think I should go. Yes, I should go."
"But I do not want you to go."
Elizabeth stood up. "Now I know I must go, for Mr. Darcy, if you are saying that you do not want me, Eliza Bennet, to leave, then I know you must have a severe form of dementia." She started to walk away when she turned back. Darcy had stood up, still looking dazed. She ran into his arms and kissed him with all she was still feeling inside. After another minute, she said, "Thank you."
"You are welcome," he said in a dazed voice.
Elizabeth did not look back the second time. She dared not do it, for fear of what she might do, and the price she would certainly have to pay.