Beginning, Section II, Section III, Next Section
Chapter 12
"What do you mean he left?" asked Elizabeth, bidding Anne to enter her chambers. "Surely you must be mistaken, Anne. The colonel said he would be leaving tomorrow."
"No, he left this morning, before dawn," Anne gratefully accepted Elizabeth's offer of a chair. "I saw him leave myself."
"But that is very strange," murmured Elizabeth. "Did you have an opportunity to talk to him?"
"Yes," nodded Anne. "But I still do not understand why he is leaving. He was very civil to me, almost painfully so. It was almost as if I was a stranger. He asked how the morning found me and I replied, very well. I asked him why he was leaving so soon and he simply said that urgent business called him to town."
"Then, perhaps, he does have business in town," observed Elizabeth. "Why do you suppose he does not?"
"Because..." Anne hesitated. "because...I do not know. I do not know why...I just feel that it was an excuse. But there is more. Just before he left, he wished me the best of luck."
"Best of luck? For what?" Elizabeth exclaimed, confused.
"That was my reaction, exactly," Anne said. "He said he wished my marriage would be all that was happy and prosperous."
"Oh dear, Lord Sheffield!!!" cried Elizabeth. "He left because he thinks you are engaged to Lord Sheffield! But Anne, why are you so sad, that is good news, indeed for it shows that he truly does love you! If he left because he is jealous of Lord Sheffield, he must care about you."
Anne shook her head. "I cannot have so much faith as you do, Elizabeth. In fact, I think the truth is quite the opposite. If he even remotely cared for me, he would not have left as he did. He would not have so easily given me up as he did. Indeed, he never gave me any sign, any hope, any indication that I might have a chance of ever occupying his heart. It is all lost, Elizabeth, it is all over. I am destined to die an old maid for I could never bear to give myself to anyone else. My heart belongs to him, whether he wants it or not."
As Anne spoke thus, a few tears escaped her eyes. It was more than what Elizabeth's tender heart could bear, so she quietly approached Anne and sat down beside her. "Dear Anne...do not despair. You would surely not speak such despondent words had you observed the colonel the way I did. And I am convinced that he loves you. Anne, believe me, it is so. It is evident in the way he looks at you with a tender gentleness, the way he speaks to you. I am quite astonished that you do not see it. But I suppose you had other things on your mind."
"But why did he depart so?" challenged Anne, looking at her friend.
"Have you ever given him any hope?" asked Elizabeth softly. "Has he been given any sign, any hope, any indication that your heart belongs to him? Perhaps he is as dejected as you are, or maybe, even more so? Perhaps he thinks that you are attached to Lord Sheffield? There are a hundred reasons for him to not know of your feelings, Anne. Have you ever considered that?"
"I confess I have not," replied Anne slowly, the light in her eyes shining. "But if that is so, what am I to do now? He is not to return till Easter..."
Elizabeth pondered for a moment. "I do not suppose you could follow him to Newcastle. That would raise some eyebrows. No, I do not think that would be prudent. But, if your love is as constant as you claim, you have nothing to fear, Anne. He will come back at Easter and you will disclose what is in your heart."
"But Easter is months away!" moaned Anne, plaintively.
"Yes, it is, but I dare say, it will go by fast," smiled Elizabeth faintly.
"You think so?"
"I am quite certain of it," replied Elizabeth. "Now let us go down for breakfast or Lady Catherine would disapprove."
Anne laughed out aloud, a sound that informed Elizabeth of her good humor. Elizabeth congratulated herself for having handled the situation so well for now Anne seemed content, satisfied, almost happy. Elizabeth only hoped, for Anne's sake and for her own, that she was not mistaken when she assured Anne of the colonel's constancy for if and when her assurances came to naught, the real tragedy would ensue.
It was a dark, dreary winter morning in town as the carriage came to a screeching halt. The finely dressed gentleman alighted from the carriage and instructed the footman to deposit his baggage inside the townhouse. Then, instead of proceeding directly inside, he walked slowly on the nearly empty sidewalk. The morning light cast a strange, luminous color on the still relatively dark sky. The air was cool, crisp, tending towards chilly. There were but a few other pedestrians on the otherwise usually crowded street and those who were present seemed in a terrible hurry to reach their destinations. However, this particular gentleman appeared neither in a hurry nor uncomfortable in the cold, morning breeze. Rather, he ambled slowly as if in a trance. On closer observation, there was a curious, thoughtful expression on his face which gave him the appearance of being in midst of a dream. The only indications of his active mind were his brooding, dark, intriguing eyes. He scanned the vacant streets as if in search for someone; someone special, someone he had left behind. On being unable to locate that person, a look of intense discontent and pain diffused his face.
"Fitzwilliam?" a voice called out from behind him.
He turned around, the look vanishing from his face. "Ah, Darcy, it is only you." There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Darcy seemed surprised. "Of course it is I. Who else would it be?" Not waiting for a response, he continued. "Why are you out here, Fitzwilliam? It is rather cold. Come inside."
Colonel Fitzwilliam made no oppositions and followed Darcy inside, much to the latter's surprise. Darcy looked intently at the colonel and instantly discerned that something was amiss. The colonel did not appear as his usual happy, carefree self; indeed, he did not resemble his former self at all. There was a distinct air of gloom about him, something that Darcy had never witnessed before.
"I did not expect you so soon," began Darcy. "Did you not intend to stay another day at Rosings?"
"I could not bear to stay there another day," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Darcy mistook his meaning and said, "I quite understand. Lady Catherine can be rather over-bearing at times. You, however, always seemed to get along quite well with her. What happened this time?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy in a manner suggesting that he had not heard his cousin. "Darcy, do you know Lord Sheffield?"
Slightly taken aback by Fitzwilliam's abrupt manner, Darcy replied, "Why, yes. Is he not Lady Catherine's neighbor?"
"Yes," nodded the Colonel as they entered the house. "How well do you know him?"
"Not that well," replied Darcy, more and more confused. "I was briefly acquainted with him at Eton and that is all. Why do you ask?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam did not reply immediately, but when he did, his voice was slightly strained, "I...um...I just met him for the first time. He is...well, he is engaged to Anne. Were you aware of that?"
Darcy replied in the affirmative. "Lady Catherine mentioned the fact to me once. Why, do you not approve of the engagement?"
"No, no, it is not that," said the colonel hastily. "I just wanted to determine what sort of man he was...after all, it is Anne's life at stake."
"I do not know him that well, but I suppose he is a good man," replied Darcy. "I hear that he is blessed with such happy manners as to ensure his making friends wherever he is known."
"I see," muttered Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I see."
"Fitzwilliam, are you quite alright?" asked Darcy, concerned.
"Yes, Darcy, thank you," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied.
Darcy prodded no further. He had seldom seen his cousin behave in such a manner. It was abnormal, unnatural and completely out of character for the colonel. Darcy supposed Fitzwilliam had some good reason for his apparent sorrow, but he was at a loss to understand what it could be. Colonel Fitzwilliam gratefully accepted Darcy's offer of some brandy and paced about the room. Darcy watched him in silence for some moments before finally saying,
"Alright, who is she?"
"Who is who?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"Fitzwilliam, I have known you since you were a little boy," said Darcy. "You cannot fool me by your act. I have not seen you this anxious since we were fourteen and you were in love with Miss Cartwright. Now, tell me, who is she?"
"Darcy...really, you are mistaken," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "There is no one."
"Are you quite certain?" Darcy said. "I am not convinced."
Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at Darcy. He sighed. There could be no harm in telling Darcy; indeed, he might discover the truth on his own account. "She does not love me. It is quite hopeless. I have given up. There is no chance of my ever securing her regard."
"Surely Fitzwilliam, it cannot be as desolate as all that," said Darcy.
"Oh believe me, Darcy, it is. She is engaged to another," said Colonel Fitzwilliam gravely.
"Well, that does not mean --- " Darcy stopped mid-sentence. "Oh lord, you mean Anne!" Seeing the colonel's grave face, Darcy was certain he was correct. "I had no idea...how long have you loved her?"
"I am not certain," said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I, ah...I do not know, Darcy. I have loved her for so long that I can hardly remember how or when it started. I just wanted to confess and let her know..."
Darcy studied his sorrowful face and said, "Is that why you visited Rosings at this time of year?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. "It is of no consequence now, I suppose. She is engaged to Lord Sheffield."
"I am very sorry, Fitzwilliam. You do not deserve this. Did you tell her?"
"No, how could I?" Colonel Fitzwilliam stopped in front of the window. "She is engaged to a handsome, charming earl who has a huge inheritance. And what do I have to offer her? Living miles away in Newcastle with none of the comforts she was born to? A small house and a modest income? No, Darcy, there is nothing I can offer her."
"I do not know what to say, Fitzwilliam, except that I wish things were different."
"Oh, do not worry about me. I will recover in time. I shall always love her, I suppose, but by now, I should be used to that. You can not imagine the pain of loving someone and knowing she is out of reach."
"Can I not?" muttered Darcy. Oh, how well I know that feeling. She is gone from my life forever, but it is all for the best. That is what I wanted, was it not?
"My greatest punishment is having to see her with Lord Sheffield. Do you suppose you could go to Rosings alone for Easter?"
"You cannot avoid her forever, Fitzwilliam."
"I know."
"Well, then, you have to accompany me to Rosings."
"We shall see," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The bright sunny day was deceivingly so, about two weeks later, as the chilly winds fanned Elizabeth's face. But she would not give up the exercise for anything; so, she disregarded the slight discomfort for the greater advantages of her habit. She walked to her favorite little grove and perched herself on a bench in the more secluded, wooded area of the Rosings' shrubbery. It was a place of no apparent value to anyone but herself. On her part, Elizabeth thoroughly enjoyed the relative calm serenity and seclusion of the spot. It proved to be an excellent place for her to spend some quite moments by herself in the absence of any sort of intrusion from any quarters. Once, she was comfortably seated, Elizabeth began to pursue the valuable letter from Jane she had just received.
My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, laugh at my expense when I say that you were not gone two days before your absence made a mark upon us. You are sorely missed every day, especially by papa, who I am convinced, misses you the most. Our unhappiness stems primarily from the fact that it is not, in the least, incumbent upon you to stay away from your dear family. I do, however, appreciate your dilemma and only wish that you find all the happiness in the world for heaven knows, there is no one who deserves it more than you. I pray for you every day and can only hope that some day you will learn to love another. I understand that it might seem impossible at this point, but I promise you, there will come a day when this pain will be a thing of the past.I have not heard anything from Miss Bingley; indeed, I do not expect anything from her or him. Mama blames him every day for having abused me abominably. If she only knew what sweet pain I experience every time she says his name, she would refrain from her admonitions. I am convinced that I was mistaken in my belief of his attachment to myself. My only solace is that it was my mistake alone and no one, but myself, has to suffer in consequence. You must believe me, Lizzy, when I say that I have forgiven him. Indeed, there is nothing to forgive. He made no promises; it was all my imagination, I am certain, and I will, in time, learn to put it all behind me. Do not fear, my dear sister, for I am stronger than you imagine and I shall not let anything cast a shadow upon my heart. I did however so believe...but let us not talk of it anymore.
Hertfordshire remains the same, wishing only for presence to make all the engagements complete. We dined at the Lucases yesterday. Charlotte bid me to ask you to write to her. I imagine your work must keep you rather busy, but if you can find the time, you might write to her. We are all the same here. Kitty and Lydia have lost none of their spirit and Mary keeps to her books. Papa stays in his library a great deal as he is prone to do. As for dear mama, she really endeavors to help me through what she calls a 'trying time', but I so wish she would cease to do so. I fear that one day I might lose my patience and reveal things that might not be pleasant for either for us. It is at these times that I miss you the most. I miss our conversations and your soothing smile, but I digress. At any rate, all is well here.
Is there any hope, Lizzy, of you coming to visit us soon? For Easter, perhaps? We would certainly love to see you and I dare say, it might be a refreshing change. I was amused at your description of Lady Catherine. Is she really that stern? Miss de Bourgh appears rather nice, as well, and I am sure, will benefit greatly from your company. You will bring the gift of laughter into her life, for which, I am certain, she will be indebted forever. Aunt Gardiner has asked me to visit her at Gracechurch Street. I think I shall go. But, Lizzy, do not suppose that my motives are anything but of the purest kind. I might call upon Caroline, but I have no wish to see Mr. Bingley. You must believe me. I shall tell you how that goes.
Yours &c,
Jane
Elizabeth re-read the letter a few times before pausing to make sense of what she read. In all appearances, Jane appeared cheerful, but Elizabeth could see through the façade. Jane was still very much attached to Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth hoped, for her sister's sake that she would see Bingley in town. Elizabeth knew not why Bingley kept away from Hertfordshire, but whatever his reasons, seeing Jane would, she was certain, rekindle all his former ardor. Elizabeth contemplated Jane's gentle reprimands. She was missed at home, she supposed, but Jane understood why she had to do what she was. It was a matter of her survival, her freedom, her sense of self-worth. No, Elizabeth was convinced that her decisions were sound.
"Why, fancy meeting you here!"
Elizabeth looked up only to find herself staring straight into the blue eyes of Lord Victor Sheffield. "Good morning, Lord Sheffield."
"Good morning, Miss Bennet," Lord Sheffield smiled. "I did not imagine anyone else ever visited this particular spot. I am quite fond of it myself. Would you care to join me?" He gallantly offered her his arm and Elizabeth could not refuse. She got up and took his arm.
"Is it not rather early for a lady to be out?" said Lord Sheffield, smiling gently.
"No indeed, milord," replied Elizabeth with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Why so formal, Miss Bennet?" said Lord Sheffield with a teasing smile. "One would think we were strangers."
"Because, milord, that is what we are. Strangers."
"I shall have to do something about that, Miss Bennet." Lord Sheffield stopped walking, faced Elizabeth, bowed and smiled. "I am Lord Victor Sheffield. But call me Victor."
"Oh, I could not do that, sir, for it would be highly improper."
"I see," said Lord Sheffield. "You could not do that sometimes?"
"Oh no," smiled Elizabeth.
"Not even when we are alone?"
"Not even when we are alone."
"You seem quite determined, Miss Bennet."
"Oh, I am, Lord Sheffield."
"In that case, I shall desist. I see that I have made you uncomfortable."
"Not at all, Lord Sheffield."
"Let us proceed, then."
Lord Sheffield smiled brightly at her and Elizabeth found herself lost in his clear blue eyes. They were intelligent eyes, eyes filled with a certain playful carelessness. They were laughing eyes that seemed to laugh and tease. They were honest eyes, eyes of character. Elizabeth found herself intrigued and confused. She said not a word, satisfying herself by walking at his side. She felt the strength of his arms as they linked hers. They were just like Wickham's. Wickham. My husband. But he had left her destitute and was dead, Elizabeth reminded herself. She recalled Jane's words, I pray for you every day and can only hope that some day you will learn to love another. Was it not time for her to put the past behind her? Could she ever learn to love another? And was that another Lord Sheffield?
"A penny for your thoughts," Lord Sheffield said.
"I was just...well, I was just thinking about you."
"I am flattered."
"Well, don't be," said Elizabeth boldly.
"Oh? I take it I did not do well?"
Elizabeth laughed aloud. "It is not quite that bad."
"So, I still have hope?"
"That depends."
"On what, pray?" smiled Lord Sheffield.
"On me."
"I see. Then, tell me, what shall I have to do to please milady."
"Well, sir," laughed Elizabeth. "That is for me to know and for you to find out."
"And find out, I shall, by any means possible."
"Is that a threat, milord?"
"No, a promise."
"I shall wait, then."
"But not for long," said Lord Sheffield confidently.
"Are you so conceited?"
"No, just confident."
"I see," smiled Elizabeth.
"You have a beautiful smile," said Lord Sheffield softly.
"Thank you," blushed Elizabeth.
Lord Sheffield regarded her closely for a moment. Elizabeth colored under his scrutiny, uncomfortable and uncertain. He recovered himself, however, and said, "It is a great pity that I was did not have the honor of being acquainted with you before."
Elizabeth smiled. "Is that so? Why, exactly?"
"I would not have wasted my whole life waiting for you."
"Then, you knew I was coming?"
"Yes, of course."
"What if I had not come?"
"How could you not? I had willed it. And you're here, are you not?"
"I suppose, I am, Lord Sheffield. But you know nothing about me."
"I am willing to start today, if you permit me to."
Elizabeth stopped and a flicker of pain flashed momentarily in her eyes. "I do not think you would actually want to know about my past."
Lord Sheffield regarded her, then said, "On the contrary, there is nothing I wish to now more."
"You are nothing like what I had expected, milord," said Elizabeth, suddenly changing the subject.
"Did I disappoint you, then?"
"Oh no," Elizabeth promptly said, then stopped, blushing furiously.
Lord Sheffield smiled indulgently. "You see, when you allow yourself to be frank, only the truth reveals itself."
Elizabeth smiled in return. "I would not be that vain if I were you, milord."
"Oh, Miss Bennet, you should know I am incurably vain. I have been accused of being thus on many occasions."
"In that case, I shall simply have to cure of that unfortunate tendency."
"I cannot wait," Lord Sheffield grinned.
Elizabeth did not reply. She was intensely aware of Lord Sheffield's almost improper closeness. But his playful smile defied any reprimand; indeed, it defied censure of any kind. Elizabeth felt herself attracted to him; his infectious smile bending towards laughter, his clear blue eyes, his sense of humor, his quick wit. He was open, artless, sensible and a perfect gentleman. In his presence, Elizabeth felt completely safe and secure, free from all the pain, all the worries, the sheer reality of her life. He uplifted her spirit and set her free, like the lark on the tree willing to soar in the open skies of the uncertain future. Was it indeed possible to feel so after but two meetings? Was it not simply too good to be true.
"Well, here we are," said Lord Sheffield as Rosings came into view.
"Will you not come inside?"
"No, I am expected home. I did not intend to stay out as long as I did." This was said with an undoubted hint that Elizabeth was the reason for his staying out. She blushed.
"Goodbye, Lord Sheffield."
"Goodbye, Miss Bennet...till we meet again."
Elizabeth watched him leave. He was perfect, frighteningly so; handsome and charming with such happy manners. In fact, he was quite like what Wickham had seemed on her first meeting him. But he is not like Wickham...is he?
Chapter 13
The days seemed to drag as far as Elizabeth was concerned. Her life had settled down to such an extent as to make her daily dealings rather humdrum. The mornings gave way to the afternoons which led to the evenings and culminated in nightfall and yet, there was no excitement to speak of. The quiet life at Rosings knew no change for Lady Catherine demanded only the strictest adherence to her set principles. Even Anne had, of late, subsided into a quiet contentment which Elizabeth dismissed as one of the lesser side-effects of being in love. As for herself, Elizabeth knew that there was something lacking and for no regard in the world would she accept that she missed Lord Sheffield.
Truth be told, she did miss him, she missed him terribly. She missed his smile, his laughing blue eyes, his quick wit, and his wry humor. And worst of all, she knew not why she missed it all for she had known him but a few days. After her last encounter with him in the woods, Lord Sheffield had mysteriously disappeared from sight. A few days henceforth, Lady Catherine had informed them that 'dear Victor' had been seized with a sudden fancy and was visiting a friend in the north of England. Just like that. Without any warning or any reason, without even saying goodbye. And it was the last that hurt Elizabeth the most. She had been presumptuous enough to believe that Lord Sheffield actually for her, but she had supposed wrong. Apparently, his flippant manner had misled her terribly in supposing any attachment of any kind and Elizabeth only rejoiced in having the mistake end where it did, for who knew what the unfortunate supposition might have led to.
It is all for the best, I suppose, Elizabeth thought. God knows, I do not wish for any complications in my life. But Elizabeth knew in her heart that she was lying, in part, for complications were exactly what she was wishing for to liven up her otherwise dreary existence. And if those complications came in the form of Lord Sheffield, so be it. Had fate decreed it to be so, it would eventually play out as destined and Elizabeth was determined not to care one way or another. She was determined to eliminate any thoughts of those haunting blue eyes from her head lest they cast a spell on her like another pair of eyes had done before. She was determined not to commit the same mistakes again in an effort to safeguard her own well-being and sanity. She was determined not to fall in love again, and to follow her head, not her heart. Yes, Elizabeth was determined, very determined indeed, but how could she have foreseen the forthcoming events that would prove to overwhelm her and make those determinations go to naught.
It had been fully a fortnight since the abrupt departure of Lord Sheffield and Anne and Elizabeth were enjoying the freedom of the fresh air in the solace of each other's company. In the weeks since Elizabeth's arrival at Rosings, their friendship had grown steadily, blossoming into a kind of familiar sisterhood that Elizabeth enjoyed and Anne had never known. Indeed, they had come to confide in each other like sisters and would gladly, if need be, give up their deepest desires for the other.
"Do you suppose he'll be there tonight?" Anne broke the silence as they approached the orchards.
Elizabeth need not inquire as to whom she was referring to. "I do not know..."
"I suppose he might be," mused Anne. "Indeed, it would be a great slight to his parents if he did not appear and I heard mother saying that Lady Sheffield is quite cross with him. We have received but a few words of his whereabouts...this is just too sudden."
"Yes." Elizabeth's monosyllabic answer raised Anne's eyebrows.
"And do you not care, Elizabeth, even a little?" Anne glanced at her companion.
"No, not at all," Elizabeth colored under Anne's scrutiny. "Why would I care, pray?"
"You have no idea what you are about," smiled Anne slightly. "It is rather amusing, as a matter of fact."
"What is?" demanded Elizabeth.
"Your denial," explained Anne. "It is so painfully apparent to me - and I am rather blind in these matters - that you care about Victor. Why, you have been moping around with that demeanor for the entire duration of this fortnight, I do declare!"
"I hardly know him," Elizabeth turned her face so as to avoid Anne's piercing gaze.
"And what is the significance of that?!" exclaimed Anne. "Surely you do not subscribe to the notion that the length of your acquaintance determines the constancy of your heart. You might be acquainted with a person for many years and not feel for them a fraction of what you might feel for one you have known for a few days."
"That might be very well," began Elizabeth. "But I know my heart and I know that I am not in love with Lord Sheffield."
"I did not say you were," replied Anne, slyly. "But you are in a fair way of falling in love. Oh, Elizabeth, do take care. I do not trust Victor with your heart. He is too reckless, bye and bye. I am afraid for you."
Elizabeth looked at her friend affectionately and smiled, "Do not worry Anne. I shall not let him hurt me, or you, be assured of that. Come what may, I shall not surrender."
Anne giggled, "You make it out as though we were in battle."
"Indeed, this is no less," smiled Elizabeth.
"True," returned Anne. "Speaking of battles, what shall we wear for the ball tonight?"
The Sheffield manor was on a grand scale, very much in the style of Rosings Park; ornate, lavish, grandiose. The lofty staircases and invaluable paintings were studiously arranged to appear to their advantage and impress upon any visitors the overall prosperity of the family. And rightly so, for Lord Sheffield, Victor's father prided himself for being in a long line of earls, the ancestors of whom had served under the king for many hundred years. The annual ball was a much anticipated event in this part of the country for it represented one of the few pleasures afforded by the otherwise dull society. Lord Sheffield fulfilled his duty as host in accompanying his wife at the door and welcoming the overwhelmed guests.
"Oh, you are very welcome Lady Catherine, and Miss de Bourgh, how lovely you look tonight!" exclaimed Lady Annabelle graciously.
"This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet," introduced Lady Catherine and the necessary niceties were exchanged.
As Anne and Elizabeth moved forward, Anne quickly scanned the assembled crowd and whispered, "I do not see him. I wonder if he is here."
Elizabeth did not reply, but her eyes followed Anne's about the room, but in vain; there was no sign of Lord Victor. Elizabeth had dressed with more than usual care and felt her heart sink at the prospect of not seeing Lord Victor at all during the evening. Surely, he would not slight his parents by not attending the ball? As Elizabeth followed Anne about the room, she wondered why she cared so much. Had she not determined specifically not to care? What, then, had become of all her resolutions? Had they bowed down to the dictates of her wayward heart as resolutions did, more often than not. Elizabeth did not know the answer; indeed, she did not wish to know for inevitably the answer to those troubling questions would serve to weaken her resolve even further and at that point, she required all the strength possible to keep her resolves. Then, perhaps it is better this way. If he doesn't appear, I shall be content.
Unfortunately for Elizabeth's resolve, the moment those thoughts were passing her mind, her eyes suddenly caught sight of the very subject of her ruminations. He was standing among a group of feminine admirers, apparently unaware of her presence. Elizabeth's heart soared as she beheld him. She wished he would see her, but paradoxically she hoped he would not. She was rather unprepared for another meeting, especially at a time when her heart was filled with a thousand doubts. Unluckily for her, Victor caught sight of her at that instant and smiled. She smiled back forcibly, unwillingly. She hesitated, not knowing how to respond, but was saved by the commencement of the music. Elizabeth need not fear for Victor did not approach her, rather he asked a pretty young woman to dance. Elizabeth refused several offers to dance and contented herself by finding a vantage point from whence she could observe Victor and his fair partner in all her blatant jealousy.
"Do you see who Lord Sheffield is dancing with?!"
"It is a Miss Josephine Lumberton."
"She has a big fortune, I hear!"
All around Elizabeth, these quiet whisperings pervaded. She eavesdropped, if only to gain information of Victor's partner, Miss Lumberton. Elizabeth watched them as they gracefully moved about the floor. He seemed so happy. He was smiling serenely, his blue eyes sparkling. And she was laughing, undoubtedly at his ready wit and humor. Elizabeth's face bore no signs of the turbulent emotions within. She bristled with inexplicable envy and jealousy at the thought that she should be the one in Victor's arms, laughing and smiling. This unreasonable emotion had no plausible explanation in Elizabeth's mind for she did not want any of Victor's attentions, or so she told herself. It was unjust for her to expect anything from him, and yet she did. Elizabeth could not understand it.
As the dance concluded, the couple parted. Elizabeth's eyes followed Victor as he returned Miss Josephine to her friends and bowed. He stood transfixed for a moment, but then, suddenly, looked at her. He held her gaze for several moments and approached her with determination. Elizabeth could offer no protests.
"I believe you owe me a dance, Miss Bennet?" smiled Victor as he came upon Elizabeth.
She looked up at him and said coldly, "I do not owe you anything, Lord Sheffield." With those sharp words and a haughty glance, Elizabeth hurriedly left his side in quest of a more serene environ. She found it in the cool night air in the verandah. Elizabeth was prone to escape the chaos of balls in favor of the peacefulness of the verandah. At this particular moment, all Elizabeth wished for was some peace and quiet.
"There you are," came a soft voice from behind her.
Elizabeth groaned as she said, without turning. "I do hope you will not follow me, Lord Sheffield. It is most unkind."
"I fear I have offended you," continued Victor, ignoring her pleas and approaching her. "Tell me what I have done."
"Nothing," replied she. "Nothing at all."
Now, Victor was standing by her side. "Hardly convincing, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth faced him with an impatient look in her eyes. "Are you determined to torture me?"
"No, only to discover the truth."
"I shall have to disappoint you, sir," said Elizabeth. "but there is no truth to be discovered."
"Your eyes betray you, Miss Bennet," replied Victor with a teasing smile. "They tell me what you will not."
"Which is?"
"You are angry with me for not dancing with you," said Victor.
"How presumptuous!" exclaimed Elizabeth, bristling. "For your information, I do not dance, sir."
"That is unfortunate, indeed," said Victor. "but I do not believe you will deprive us of the joy of seeing your elegant figure."
"Lord Sheffield," began Elizabeth, exasperated, tired, annoyed and unwilling to battle him any longer. "I wish you would cease to pursue this any further. We are both aware that there is no purpose to this and I only as that you respect my wishes and leave me alone."
Victor regarded her for a few uncomfortable moments. "I will leave, if you tell me why you are so upset?"
Elizabeth could take it no more. "What right have you to demand that I share my feelings when you leave without any notice and share none of yours?!"
Victor smiled slightly. "I see, so that is what it is about. My leaving to Scotland, without telling you."
Elizabeth turned away from him, not verifying or denying his supposition.
"Well, it proves one thing, to be sure," continued Victor. He paused.
Elizabeth turned to look at him expectantly. Victor smiled, "That you missed me greatly." His grin widened at Elizabeth's deep blush and he said, "I shall not bother you anymore, Miss Bennet. And I still await our dance." He reached out and gently kissed her fingertips. "Good night."
With that, he departed, leaving Elizabeth tingling and confused. She touched the spot where his lips had touched her fingers and sighed. So much for complications.
Chapter 14 Posted on Saturday, 12 February 2000
Elizabeth stood, immobile for a measurable amount of time. Confused. Puzzled. Unsure. The ease with which Lord Sheffield was able to trifle with her emotions greatly disturbed her mental equanimity and yet, caused her to pause and reflect. What, indeed, did her heart say? Perhaps Elizabeth was the last person to know the secrets of her own heart, but she attempted to listen to its gentle murmuring. It was confusing, painfully so; and yet, Elizabeth persevered. This last encounter with Lord Sheffield had left her with no doubt that she liked him, liked him very much, indeed, but love? That was another matter. Elizabeth had never truly been in love before and therefore, knew not the difference between love and infatuation. Infatuation. Admiration. Adulation. Perhaps so, but not love. Not in the entire sense of the word. No, Elizabeth had no concept of the depth, of the scope, of the sheer power of love, but she was convinced that she could not possibly be in love with the man she had known for but a few weeks. That could not be love; love, the subject of countless songs and epic poems; love, for which wars were fought and lives were destroyed; love, that elusive emotion, which gave happiness to some and immeasurable pain to countless others. This could not be that omnipotent, all-consuming love. No, indeed. But how would I know?
The latter thought introduced another stream of contradictions in her mind. How was she to know what real love was when her entire concept of it was derived from mere fictional accounts of great romances. Who was to say that a passion like that shared by Romeo and Juliet even existed? All her life, Elizabeth had been convinced that one day, she would find true love, her partner, her soul mate and she had believed she had found him in Wickham. What a fool she had been! In hindsight, all the events of those first, few, giddy months seemed to ooze with sickening gaiety, but no real emotion. There had been no real attachment, Elizabeth was convinced, else the loss of her husband would have impacted her to a greater extent. However, the dwindling of her affections had not been a deed of a day. It had been in progress since the very day of their marriage. Wickham had always been entirely gentleman-like, but the signs of his true nature had always been present; she had just been blind to them. The propensity for gambling, the subtle flirtations, the late nights, the unexplained absences. Elizabeth was repulsed as she even contemplated those dark days of her life. How could she have supposed that that was love? But then, she had been so young and Wickham had seemed so...charming. The blame was not entirely hers to bear.
Elizabeth was not completely unaware of the similarities between her deceased husband and Lord Sheffield. They shared the same easy manners, charming personality and ready wit; and yet, Elizabeth was not disposed to hold those similarities against the latter. She had previously determined that she would not let her past mistakes cast a shadow upon her future and besides, judging Lord Sheffield by the faults of her husband would not be fair. And more than anything, Elizabeth wished to be fair, not only to Lord Sheffield, but to herself. She would not allow her bad experiences with one man ruin her chances of any future happiness. But, the question remained, was Lord Sheffield the right man? Elizabeth did not know. He was pleasant enough and she dared say, very charming. But would that make her happy? Elizabeth truly did not have any satisfactory answer.
What, then, does being in love feel like? Elizabeth thought with a sigh as she glanced up at the moon. Perhaps she would ask Anne. Elizabeth giggled slightly at the thought. She could imagine Anne's vivid, florid descriptions of the great power of love. Perhaps she was not ready for that just yet. Elizabeth sighed again and looked heavenward unto the stars. The black velvet of the sky enveloped the tiny gems of the stars in a panoramic cosmic miracle. As Elizabeth marveled at its sheer beauty, she was suddenly transported back to a similar starry night, several months ago. She still remembered it vividly; the moonlit night, the lone carriage, the highwaymen...Mr. Darcy. How stupid, how reckless, how utterly irresponsible she had been to have traveled thus! But oh, to be rescued by him. Elizabeth still recalled the thud of her heart when he had asked her for a dance. But she had denied him that dance, Elizabeth reminded herself and had never seen him again. That last thought jilted her back to reality. I shall not see him ever again thought Elizabeth. So, why, oh why do I contemplate him thus. It is of no avail. I would not wish to see him again, anyway. The last, Elizabeth knew, was a blatant lie, but she refused to ponder the subject any further and quietly proceeded back to the ball before she was missed.
"So, I saw you both escape into the verandah," said Anne, accusingly, with a gleam in her eyes, the next morning as the two friends walked together at their customary time. "Will you not share it with me?"
"Nothing happened, Anne, honestly," smiled Elizabeth.
"Oh, do you take me for a fool, Elizabeth!" exclaimed Anne. "I saw your face when Victor was dancing with Miss Lumberton and I will not believe that you are as indifferent as you claim."
Elizabeth did not reply immediately, but when she did, she spoke slowly, "You are absolutely right, Anne. I am not entirely indifferent, but I am not in love either. I have been thinking about this carefully all night and have concluded that I am not attached to Lord Sheffield...at present."
"At present?" Anne raised her eyebrows. "Do continue, I am all curiosity."
Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued, "I...I am very favorably disposed towards Lord Sheffield. I enjoy his company very much, but it would be too hasty to pronounce me in love. I do not rule out that possibility for sometime in the future, but at this time, I feel for him nothing but friendship."
"Friendship, eh?" Anne giggled. "Who would ever believe you?"
"Oh, Anne!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "You must believe me. And I do not think Lord Sheffield is seriously attached to me either."
Anne thought for a moment, then said, "You are right, I suppose. I have known Victor for some years and it is in his nature to charm and engage the fancy of young women. That is why I do not trust him, but I thought you might be a good influence on him..."
"Anne..." Elizabeth began in reproaching tone, but Anne said,
"No, no, do not fear, I will not pursue this much further, but I have but one more question. If, as you claim, you feel nothing but friendship, why were you so jealous of Miss Lumberton last night?"
Elizabeth colored as she replied, "I...I suppose my vanity had suffered for I believed Lord Sheffield to be enamored by me and not Miss Lumberton. But believe me, Anne, I do not envy her in the least. She is welcome to Lord Sheffield, if she so desires."
"Brave words, those," said Anne, not entirely convinced. "But I shall desist from this teasing, enjoyable though it is for me."
"You are too kind," said Elizabeth sarcastically.
"I know I am," grinned Anne as they walked back towards the house. "You know, I shall enjoy myself prodigiously by simply watching the both of you. It shall be quite comical really."
"Have fun at my expense, if you will," replied Elizabeth, faintly smiling. "But do not forget, it is you that is engaged to him, not I!"
Anne made a face and said, "Oh, hardly. That was an arrangement made when we were in our cradles. It does not stand."
"Somehow I do not think Lady Catherine would concur," Elizabeth said.
"Perhaps so," Anne acknowledged. "But you know my feelings on that subject."
"Yes, I do," said Elizabeth. "and do not fear, I was only teasing you. I am certain that all will be well and the colonel will be back again at Easter."
"Speaking of which," said Anne. "Mother received a letter from the colonel saying he will join us for Easter this year with my other cousin."
"Excellent," nodded Elizabeth approvingly. "Does that set your heart at rest?"
"Hardly," Anne laughed. "For now I worry about seeing him again."
Elizabeth sighed. "When all this is over, Anne, remind me never to play matchmaker again. I am convinced I am not cut out for this sort of thing."
Anne burst out into laughter as the two friends entered the breakfast parlor.
That afternoon, Elizabeth comfortably seated herself in the bench of her favorite spot and settled to write back to Jane, whose letter she had not replied to yet. Elizabeth re-read Jane's missive and smiled faintly at her dear sister's kind, loving words. She contemplated certain passages for a few moments and then, began writing.
My dear Jane will forgive me, I hope, for neglecting to reply to the thoughtful letter at an earlier time, and I have no other excuse to offer than my extended engagements here at Rosings. My friendship with Anne deepens with every day and I could not have been happier in my choice of a friend. Anne is very sweet and intelligent and I wish you could meet her. I am certain you both would learn to love and respect each other. I related to you, in my earlier letter, Anne's dilemma with her love for Colonel Fitzwilliam. It is that problem which forever occupies her mind and consequently mine. Indeed, I am not the best matchmaker, but I try my best. It is rather touching to see such constant love and I applaud Anne for her tenacity and strength in adhering to the dictates of her heart. It is very courageous too considering her mother. Your generous heart will not allow you to accept it, but really, Lady Catherine is wholly unaware of her daughter's feelings, hopes and dreams.The society here is rather...interesting, for the lack of a better word. Our closest neighbors are the Sheffields, a grand titled family. The son, Lord Victor Sheffield is quite charming, I suppose, but Jane, do not get any ideas in your head just yet. It is rather innocent, and I have every intention to keep it thus. It seems as though I shall not be able to go home for Easter. I communicated your wishes to Anne and she wishes me to stay. If you recall, Easter is when her colonel arrives at Rosings and I am convinced she will require my services at that time. If, indeed, all goes well, I shall have to help Anne weather the storm raised by Lady Catherine. I hope you will forgive me, Jane, for neglecting my family thus, but I do hope you will understand. Would you communicate this to papa as well, for I have not the heart to tell him myself.
Dear Jane, how I miss you everyday! You have no conception of much your sweet smile and gentle assurances are missed every moment. When I am ecstatic or upset, angry or mortified, I miss you. I miss your candor and your angelic view of the world. I even miss your remonstrations. I ache for your kind words that would set my agitation at rest. Indeed, Jane, I need your advice every single day and yet, find myself so far transported from you. I suppose this feeling should not be alien to me for it is not the first time I have been separated from you, but I feel your absence more acutely than ever before due the my own delicate frame of mind. So, understand, that my decision to leave Longbourn does not reflect necessarily my diminishing love for you; it was not a choice for me to make, but my destiny that I must follow.
I consider it a wonderful idea for you to benefit from Aunt Gardiner's kind invitation. A little change of scenery is just what your spirit needs at this time. I am certain you will enjoy yourself tremendously and be infinitely comfortable. Have you heard anything from Caroline Bingley? If anything, I would imagine Miss Bingley would keep her promises of frequent correspondence with you. Do visit her, by all means, if you so wish, but Jane, please be careful. I do not trust her or indeed, like her. But you know what I feel on that account. I would not wish to censure your friend needlessly, but please, do not get taken by her smooth manners and allow yourself to be wounded by her words or claims regarding her brother. I shall say no more.
My love for papa, mama and all my family. I hope Lydia and Kitty do not burden you overtly with their wildness. Patient as you are with them, I fear even your patience will be one day tested. Adieu and I beg to remain, most fervently,
Your loving sister and friend, Elizabeth
As Elizabeth concluded the letter, she sighed and sat back, closing her eyes. She was so lost in her own ruminations that she failed to hear the sound of approaching footsteps.
"We meet yet again, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth's eyes flew open as she was in no doubt as to the owner of that haunting voice. A strange sense of deja vu pervaded as she replied, slightly discomfited, "If I did not know better, I would say you were following me, Lord Sheffield."
Victor smiled, "And I would not dare presume to contradict you, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth recognized the gentle flirtation in his voice and only responded with. "Very well, then, why are you following me?"
"What do you think?" quipped Victor, his blue eyes trained on her.
Elizabeth held his gaze for a few moments, then abruptly stood up. "Lord Sheffield, I am in no mood for games today." She commenced walking homeward and was not at all surprised when Victor accompanied her.
"It is no game, I assure you, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth sighed. "I see you insist upon trifling with me."
"On the contrary," replied Victor. "I wish only to improve our acquaintance. Why would you suspect an ulterior motive?"
Elizabeth did not reply. Indeed, she could not for she knew not how to respond. Had it not been only yesterday when she had determined that she would remain civil towards Lord Sheffield, allowing the progression of their friendship and ridding herself of any odious sense of his regard. Why, then, would she plagued with the doubt that Lord Sheffield wanted more than she was willing to give at that point.
"I do not suspect anything," Elizabeth finally managed to say.
"I am glad to hear it," answered Victor in a laughing tone that suggested he did not completely believe the veracity of her statement. "I would not wish anything to come between our friendship."
"Our friendship? No indeed," Elizabeth said, laughing.
Victor smiled as he beheld her eyes sparkling. "I did not get an opportunity to apologize for my behavior last night. It was unpardonable."
Elizabeth was quick to reply, "Not at all, do not trouble yourself. You are forgiven; indeed, there was nothing to forgive."
"You are too kind, Miss Bennet, but I fear I behaved very badly. I should not have imposed upon you as I did. I heartily regretted it later."
Elizabeth only smiled at him shyly. "Think nothing of it. My behavior was not entirely without reproach either."
Victor did not protest and the subject dropped. The couple was now upon a dense portion of the woods. The green shrubbery and the flowing brook only added to the perfect harmony of the scene. Elizabeth had relapsed into silence, but there was no awkwardness. Victor satisfied himself by walking by her side and observing her covertly. Elizabeth paused as she approached the brook. She stood there, inhaling the fresh afternoon breeze, the smell of woods enveloping and overwhelming her senses. She closed her eyes as rays of sunshine fell upon her upturned face. She stood there wordlessly, momentarily forgetting that she was not alone, but when she recovered herself, she found Victor regarding her with something akin wonder and she blushed.
"I am very fond of these woods," offered Elizabeth.
"I can see that," smiled Victor, his keen piercing gaze boring holes through her.
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably and said, "Let us proceed."
"Have you always been such a great walker, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth laughed, "Yes, I suppose since I was never a horsewoman."
"No?" Victor's surprise was evident. "But I love horses. They are so graceful and majestic. You must learn how to ride, Miss Bennet."
"Oh no, I could not!" Elizabeth protested. "I am too afraid...ever since I fell off Nelly when I was five."
"But you have to overcome that fear, Miss Bennet. I insist. You must learn how to ride."
Elizabeth looked at him, "But how?"
"I will teach you."
"I am an impatient learner, I warn you," Elizabeth smiled.
"And I am a very patient teacher, I assure you," Victor smiled back.
"You are determined then?" Elizabeth stated rather than asked.
"Oh, yes, very much so," Victor answered.
"Very well, then." Elizabeth submitted. They were almost at Rosings. She turned towards him and said, "Goodbye, Lord Sheffield."
"Good day, Miss Bennet. Until tomorrow."
Elizabeth curtsied and retreated hastily into the house. Victor watched her till she was out of view before turning around and walking. He was certain that his parents would not approve, but that had never stopped him before. Since the instant he had beheld Elizabeth, he had known that this time it would be different, this time it would last longer than a few frivolous days. And now, he would be teaching her to ride, working with closely. The thought appealed to Victor more and more as he contemplated it. That had been a stroke genius on his part and he had almost been surprised when she had accepted. Perhaps it was working after all; his charm, that is. Well, it would all be well, he was certain, as long as she did not know where he had been the week before. She cannot find out, not yet. It would ruin everything. But Victor satisfied himself with the conviction that she did not suspect, for now.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth stood, immobile for a measurable amount of time. Confused. Puzzled. Unsure. The ease with which Lord Sheffield was able to trifle with her emotions greatly disturbed her mental equanimity and yet, caused her to pause and reflect. What, indeed, did her heart say? Perhaps Elizabeth was the last person to know the secrets of her own heart, but she attempted to listen to its gentle murmuring. It was confusing, painfully so; and yet, Elizabeth persevered. This last encounter with Lord Sheffield had left her with no doubt that she liked him, liked him very much, indeed, but love? That was another matter. Elizabeth had never truly been in love before and therefore, knew not the difference between love and infatuation. Infatuation. Admiration. Adulation. Perhaps so, but not love. Not in the entire sense of the word. No, Elizabeth had no concept of the depth, of the scope, of the sheer power of love, but she was convinced that she could not possibly be in love with the man she had known for but a few weeks. That could not be love; love, the subject of countless songs and epic poems; love, for which wars were fought and lives were destroyed; love, that elusive emotion, which gave happiness to some and immeasurable pain to countless others. This could not be that omnipotent, all-consuming love. No, indeed. But how would I know?
The latter thought introduced another stream of contradictions in her mind. How was she to know what real love was when her entire concept of it was derived from mere fictional accounts of great romances. Who was to say that a passion like that shared by Romeo and Juliet even existed? All her life, Elizabeth had been convinced that one day, she would find true love, her partner, her soul mate and she had believed she had found him in Wickham. What a fool she had been! In hindsight, all the events of those first, few, giddy months seemed to ooze with sickening gaiety, but no real emotion. There had been no real attachment, Elizabeth was convinced, else the loss of her husband would have impacted her to a greater extent. However, the dwindling of her affections had not been a deed of a day. It had been in progress since the very day of their marriage. Wickham had always been entirely gentleman-like, but the signs of his true nature had always been present; she had just been blind to them. The propensity for gambling, the subtle flirtations, the late nights, the unexplained absences. Elizabeth was repulsed as she even contemplated those dark days of her life. How could she have supposed that that was love? But then, she had been so young and Wickham had seemed so...charming. The blame was not entirely hers to bear.
Elizabeth was not completely unaware of the similarities between her deceased husband and Lord Sheffield. They shared the same easy manners, charming personality and ready wit; and yet, Elizabeth was not disposed to hold those similarities against the latter. She had previously determined that she would not let her past mistakes cast a shadow upon her future and besides, judging Lord Sheffield by the faults of her husband would not be fair. And more than anything, Elizabeth wished to be fair, not only to Lord Sheffield, but to herself. She would not allow her bad experiences with one man ruin her chances of any future happiness. But, the question remained, was Lord Sheffield the right man? Elizabeth did not know. He was pleasant enough and she dared say, very charming. But would that make her happy? Elizabeth truly did not have any satisfactory answer.
What, then, does being in love feel like? Elizabeth thought with a sigh as she glanced up at the moon. Perhaps she would ask Anne. Elizabeth giggled slightly at the thought. She could imagine Anne's vivid, florid descriptions of the great power of love. Perhaps she was not ready for that just yet. Elizabeth sighed again and looked heavenward unto the stars. The black velvet of the sky enveloped the tiny gems of the stars in a panoramic cosmic miracle. As Elizabeth marveled at its sheer beauty, she was suddenly transported back to a similar starry night, several months ago. She still remembered it vividly; the moonlit night, the lone carriage, the highwaymen...Mr. Darcy. How stupid, how reckless, how utterly irresponsible she had been to have traveled thus! But oh, to be rescued by him. Elizabeth still recalled the thud of her heart when he had asked her for a dance. But she had denied him that dance, Elizabeth reminded herself and had never seen him again. That last thought jilted her back to reality. I shall not see him ever again thought Elizabeth. So, why, oh why do I contemplate him thus. It is of no avail. I would not wish to see him again, anyway. The last, Elizabeth knew, was a blatant lie, but she refused to ponder the subject any further and quietly proceeded back to the ball before she was missed.
"So, I saw you both escape into the verandah," said Anne, accusingly, with a gleam in her eyes, the next morning as the two friends walked together at their customary time. "Will you not share it with me?"
"Nothing happened, Anne, honestly," smiled Elizabeth.
"Oh, do you take me for a fool, Elizabeth!" exclaimed Anne. "I saw your face when Victor was dancing with Miss Lumberton and I will not believe that you are as indifferent as you claim."
Elizabeth did not reply immediately, but when she did, she spoke slowly, "You are absolutely right, Anne. I am not entirely indifferent, but I am not in love either. I have been thinking about this carefully all night and have concluded that I am not attached to Lord Sheffield...at present."
"At present?" Anne raised her eyebrows. "Do continue, I am all curiosity."
Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued, "I...I am very favorably disposed towards Lord Sheffield. I enjoy his company very much, but it would be too hasty to pronounce me in love. I do not rule out that possibility for sometime in the future, but at this time, I feel for him nothing but friendship."
"Friendship, eh?" Anne giggled. "Who would ever believe you?"
"Oh, Anne!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "You must believe me. And I do not think Lord Sheffield is seriously attached to me either."
Anne thought for a moment, then said, "You are right, I suppose. I have known Victor for some years and it is in his nature to charm and engage the fancy of young women. That is why I do not trust him, but I thought you might be a good influence on him..."
"Anne...," Elizabeth began in reproaching tone, but Anne said,
"No, no, do not fear, I will not pursue this much further, but I have but one more question. If, as you claim, you feel nothing but friendship, why were you so jealous of Miss Lumberton last night?"
Elizabeth colored as she replied, "I...I suppose my vanity had suffered for I believed Lord Sheffield to be enamored by me and not Miss Lumberton. But believe me, Anne, I do not envy her in the least. She is welcome to Lord Sheffield, if she so desires."
"Brave words, those," said Anne, not entirely convinced. "But I shall desist from this teasing, enjoyable though it is for me."
"You are too kind," said Elizabeth sarcastically.
"I know I am," grinned Anne as they walked back towards the house. "You know, I shall enjoy myself prodigiously by simply watching the both of you. It shall be quite comical really."
"Have fun at my expense, if you will," replied Elizabeth, faintly smiling. "But do not forget, it is you that is engaged to him, not I!"
Anne made a face and said, "Oh, hardly. That was an arrangement made when we were in our cradles. It does not stand."
"Somehow I do not think Lady Catherine would concur," Elizabeth said.
"Perhaps so," Anne acknowledged. "But you know my feelings on that subject."
"Yes, I do," said Elizabeth. "and do not fear, I was only teasing you. I am certain that all will be well and the colonel will be back again at Easter."
"Speaking of which," said Anne. "Mother received a letter from the colonel saying he will join us for Easter this year with my other cousin."
"Excellent," nodded Elizabeth approvingly. "Does that set your heart at rest?"
"Hardly," Anne laughed. "For now I worry about seeing him again."
Elizabeth sighed. "When all this is over, Anne, remind me never to play matchmaker again. I am convinced I am not cut out for this sort of thing."
Anne burst out into laughter as the two friends entered the breakfast parlor.
That afternoon, Elizabeth comfortably seated herself in the bench of her favorite spot and settled to write back to Jane, whose letter she had not replied to yet. Elizabeth re-read Jane's missive and smiled faintly at her dear sister's kind, loving words. She contemplated certain passages for a few moments and then, began writing.
My dear Jane will forgive me, I hope, for neglecting to reply to the thoughtful letter at an earlier time, and I have no other excuse to offer than my extended engagements here at Rosings. My friendship with Anne deepens with every day and I could not have been happier in my choice of a friend. Anne is very sweet and intelligent and I wish you could meet her. I am certain you both would learn to love and respect each other. I related to you, in my earlier letter, Anne's dilemma with her love for Colonel Fitzwilliam. It is that problem which forever occupies her mind and consequently mine. Indeed, I am not the best matchmaker, but I try my best. It is rather touching to see such constant love and I applaud Anne for her tenacity and strength in adhering to the dictates of her heart. It is very courageous too considering her mother. Your generous heart will not allow you to accept it, but really, Lady Catherine is wholly unaware of her daughter's feelings, hopes and dreams.
The society here is rather...interesting, for the lack of a better word. Our closest neighbors are the Sheffields, a grand titled family. The son, Lord Victor Sheffield is quite charming, I suppose, but Jane, do not get any ideas in your head just yet. It is rather innocent, and I have every intention to keep it thus. It seems as though I shall not be able to go home for Easter. I communicated your wishes to Anne and she wishes me to stay. If you recall, Easter is when her colonel arrives at Rosings and I am convinced she will require my services at that time. If, indeed, all goes well, I shall have to help Anne weather the storm raised by Lady Catherine. I hope you will forgive me, Jane, for neglecting my family thus, but I do hope you will understand. Would you communicate this to papa as well, for I have not the heart to tell him myself.
Dear Jane, how I miss you everyday! You have no conception of much your sweet smile and gentle assurances are missed every moment. When I am ecstatic or upset, angry or mortified, I miss you. I miss your candor and your angelic view of the world. I even miss your remonstrations. I ache for your kind words that would set my agitation at rest. Indeed, Jane, I need your advice every single day and yet, find myself so far transported from you. I suppose this feeling should not be alien to me for it is not the first time I have been separated from you, but I feel your absence more acutely than ever before due the my own delicate frame of mind. So, understand, that my decision to leave Longbourn does not reflect necessarily my diminishing love for you; it was not a choice for me to make, but my destiny that I must follow.
I consider it a wonderful idea for you to benefit from Aunt Gardiner's kind invitation. A little change of scenery is just what your spirit needs at this time. I am certain you will enjoy yourself tremendously and be infinitely comfortable. Have you heard anything from Caroline Bingley? If anything, I would imagine Miss Bingley would keep her promises of frequent correspondence with you. Do visit her, by all means, if you so wish, but Jane, please be careful. I do not trust her or indeed, like her. But you know what I feel on that account. I would not wish to censure your friend needlessly, but please, do not get taken by her smooth manners and allow yourself to be wounded by her words or claims regarding her brother. I shall say no more.
My love for papa, mama and all my family. I hope Lydia and Kitty do not burden you overtly with their wildness. Patient as you are with them, I fear even your patience will be one day tested. Adieu and I beg to remain, most fervently,
Your loving sister and friend,
Elizabeth
As Elizabeth concluded the letter, she sighed and sat back, closing her eyes. She was so lost in her own ruminations that she failed to hear the sound of approaching footsteps.
"We meet yet again, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth's eyes flew open as she was in no doubt as to the owner of that haunting voice. A strange sense of deja-vu pervaded as she replied, slightly discomfited, "If I did not know better, I would say you were following me, Lord Sheffield."
Victor smiled, "And I would not dare presume to contradict you, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth recognized the gentle flirtation in his voice and only responded with. "Very well, then, why are you following me?"
"What do you think?" quipped Victor, his blue eyes trained on her.
Elizabeth held his gaze for a few moments, then abruptly stood up. "Lord Sheffield, I am in no mood for games today." She commenced walking homeward and was not at all surprised when Victor accompanied her.
"It is no game, I assure you, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth sighed. "I see you insist upon trifling with me."
"On the contrary," replied Victor. "I wish only to improve our acquaintance. Why would you suspect an ulterior motive?"
Elizabeth did not reply. Indeed, she could not for she knew not how to respond. Had it not been only yesterday when she had determined that she would remain civil towards Lord Sheffield, allowing the progression of their friendship and ridding herself of any odious sense of his regard. Why, then, would she plagued with the doubt that Lord Sheffield wanted more than she was willing to give at that point.
"I do not suspect anything," Elizabeth finally managed to say.
"I am glad to hear it," answered Victor in a laughing tone that suggested he did not completely believe the veracity of her statement. "I would not wish anything to come between our friendship."
"Our friendship? No indeed," Elizabeth said, laughing.
Victor smiled as he beheld her eyes sparkling. "I did not get an opportunity to apologize for my behavior last night. It was unpardonable."
Elizabeth was quick to reply, "Not at all, do not trouble yourself. You are forgiven; indeed, there was nothing to forgive."
"You are too kind, Miss Bennet, but I fear I behaved very badly. I should not have imposed upon you as I did. I heartily regretted it later."
Elizabeth only smiled at him shyly. "Think nothing of it. My behavior was not entirely without reproach either."
Victor did not protest and the subject dropped. The couple were now upon a dense portion of the woods. The green shrubbery and the flowing brook only added to the perfect harmony of the scene. Elizabeth had relapsed into silence, but there was no awkwardness. Victor satisfied himself by walking by her side and observing her covertly. Elizabeth paused as she approached the brook. She stood there, inhaling the fresh afternoon breeze, the smell of woods enveloping and overwhelming her senses. She closed her eyes as rays of sunshine fell upon her upturned face. She stood there wordlessly, momentarily forgetting that she was not alone, but when she recovered herself, she found Victor regarding her with something akin wonder and she blushed.
"I am very fond of these woods," offered Elizabeth.
"I can see that," smiled Victor, his keen piercing gaze boring holes through her.
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably and said, "Let us proceed."
"Have you always been such a great walker, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth laughed, "Yes, I suppose since I was never a horsewoman."
"No?" Victor's surprise was evident. "But I love horses. They are so graceful and majestic. You must learn how to ride, Miss Bennet."
"Oh no, I could not!" Elizabeth protested. "I am too afraid...ever since I fell off Nelly when I was five."
"But you have to overcome that fear, Miss Bennet. I insist. You must learn how to ride."
Elizabeth looked at him, "But how?"
"I will teach you."
"I am an impatient learner, I warn you," Elizabeth smiled.
"And I am a very patient teacher, I assure you," Victor smiled back.
"You are determined then?" Elizabeth stated rather than asked.
"Oh, yes, very much so," Victor answered.
"Very well, then." Elizabeth submitted. They were almost at Rosings. She turned towards him and said, "Goodbye, Lord Sheffield."
"Good day, Miss Bennet. Until tomorrow."
Elizabeth curtsied and retreated hastily into the house. Victor watched her till she was out of view before turning around and walking. He was certain that his parents would not approve, but that had never stopped him before. Since the instant he had beheld Elizabeth, he had known that this time it would be different, this time it would last longer than a few frivolous days. And now, he would be teaching her to ride, working with closely. The thought appealed to Victor more and more as he contemplated it. That had been a stroke of genius on his part and he had almost been surprised when she had accepted. Perhaps it was working after all; his charm, that is. Well, it would all be well, he was certain, as long as she did not know where he had been the week before. She cannot find out, not yet. It would ruin everything. But Victor satisfied himself with the conviction that she did not suspect, for now.
Chapter 15
The morning sunlight streamed in through the open windows and illuminated Elizabeth's face with a soft, gentle light. Her eyes were trained steadfastly at the rector behind the pulpit; however, her mind and her ears wandered. She listened, but she did not hear, did not understand. Elizabeth could, by no means, be charged with a lack of faith for the rector had been speaking for some time now without any sign of stopping in the near future. His pedantic manner accompanied by his serious air and greasy mien repelled Elizabeth and caused her to seek some explanation from her neighbor.
"Anne, who is this?" she whispered softly.
"Mr. Collins," whispered Anne. "He just returned from Bath. Do not worry, you shall be blessed with his acquaintance soon enough."
Elizabeth groaned inwardly as she attempted to focus back on the talking Mr. Collins. He had a lofty, dignified air which contrasted so acutely with his ridiculous manner that Elizabeth could hardly suppress a smile. He would provide much comical relief, of that much she was certain. Indeed, Elizabeth was unwilling to prejudge anyone no matter how ridiculous their appearance. With that conviction, however, Elizabeth's eyes wandered around the church searching for familiar faces. She found several of her acquaintances and smiled once she caught their eyes, exchanging silent greetings. Her eyes were seeking one face in particular, a face that she unconsciously and unwittingly sought. She searched discreetly in vain and was about to give up when her eyes locked with a pair of now familiar blue eyes. The laughing light in his eyes conveyed all that was jovial and cheerful. Elizabeth replied in kind with a small smile and a brief nod. Victor responded with another grin and a wink. Elizabeth laughed inwardly, not daring to draw attention towards herself. When she looked in his direction again, Victor inclined his slightly as if in submission. Elizabeth grinned, fervently hoping that no one had noticed the exchange. Her hopes would come to naught.
With the conclusion of the morning's service, the church members headed homeward. Lady Catherine was detained by the effusions of Mr. Collins, who, it appeared, was thanking her for her beneficence in allowing him to visit his family in Bath. Anne and Elizabeth did not join Her Ladyship, preferring, instead, to stand back and survey the scene with amusement. Elizabeth whispered some diverting comment to Anne and the two friends just erupted into giggles when they were approached by Victor.
"Good morning Miss Bennet, Miss de Bourgh," Victor greeted them with a charming smile. "I hope the morning finds you well."
"Indeed it does, thank you, Lord Sheffield," replied Elizabeth, suppressing a grin.
"I hope, Miss Bennet, that you have not forgotten our engagement to go riding together?"
"No, I have not," said Elizabeth exchanging glances with Anne. "I communicated your kind offer to Anne and I am delighted to say that she has expressed a desire to join us, if you have no objections?"
Victor seemed momentarily displeased, a flicker of annoyance passing through his eyes. But he quickly recovered his smile and his good manners and replied, "Of course I have no objections. I shall be delighted to have your company, Miss de Bourgh."
"You are too kind," said Anne sweetly, and undercurrent of sarcasm in her tone. She looked at Victor earnestly in hopes of catching his eyes and conveying her knowledge of what he was about. Victor, however, purposefully avoided her eyes and focussed on Elizabeth.
"Well, what do you say I give you the first lesson today?" inquired Victor.
Elizabeth tore her eyes from his and looked at Anne. "Is that alright?"
"Yes, of course," replied Anne, nodding.
"That is settled, then," declared Victor. "I shall see you both soon." With a bow and a smile, he was gone. Anne watched his departure and muttered under her breath. Elizabeth looked at her surprised.
"What is the matter, Anne? You seemed...how shall I say...cross?"
"That is because I am!" exclaimed Anne. "I thought he would be different. I thought he had changed. But apparently, I was mistaken in my assumptions. I was so certain that you would be a salutary influence on him that I neglected to think of your well-being. How stupid of me! But it is not too late. The damage is not done. I can save you yet."
"Save me?! My dear, Anne, I have not the pleasure of understanding you. What are you referring to?"
"Victor, of course!" said Anne.
"I still do not understand," said Elizabeth, puzzled. "You do not need to 'save' me from Lord Sheffield or anyone else, for that matter. Besides, Lord Sheffield is harmless."
"Don't you see, Elizabeth?" said Anne. "That is all an act, a part of his plan. You must know him better to understand. But this is an all-too familiar sequence of events for me. I have witnessed it countless number of times. Victor is fond of trapping girls into falling in love with him, only to break their hearts. I cannot allow that to happen to you."
Elizabeth smiled slightly at her friend's concern. "Anne, I am touched, honestly I am, but you have nothing to fear. I am in no way threatened by Lord Sheffield. I have told you already that I am not in love with him and do not intend to fall in love either. I am fond of his society, that is all. I cannot predict what might happen in the future, but I do not foresee myself falling in love with him."
"That is your mind speaking, not your heart," asserted Anne. "Elizabeth, it is all very well when you tell yourself that you will not fall in love with him, but withstanding all the force of his charm is another matter. Do listen to reason..."
"What would you have me do? Not pursue our acquaintance?"
"Yes!" replied Anne. "Would you?"
"No!" cried Elizabeth. "Anne, that is entirely unreasonable. I appreciate your concern, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself and I dare say, I shall be able to protect myself from Lord Sheffield. Personally, I think you misunderstand him. I cannot believe that he would willfully hurt or mislead me. You should give him another chance."
"You are determined, then, to pursue this?" asked Anne.
"I am determined to act in a manner that will secure my happiness," said Elizabeth.
Anne regarded her for a moment, then sighed. "Well, I wish you all that is happy. But do be careful Elizabeth. I would not wish you to be the one that is hurt. You are my friend and I care about you."
Elizabeth smiled fondly at her friend. "Thank you, Anne. I shall be careful."
"Anne, Miss Bennet, the carriage has arrived," Lady Catherine interrupted their conversation as they left the church, Mr. Collins close at their heels.
"I am concerned about him, Arthur," said Lady Annabelle plaintively
"I know. So am I," sighed Lord Sheffield, pouring himself some brandy and regarding his wife with concern. "I have all but given up on the boy, Annabelle, it is hopeless."
"Something must be done," said Lady Annabelle. "Victor is your son, your heir. You cannot allow him to throw himself away as he pleases. I am sure Miss Bennet is perfectly respectable but she can never be the mistress of this manor. You must forbid him from seeing her again."
"Do you honestly believe that will work?" asked Lord Sheffield. "Victor has such an independent spirit that I doubt he would heed to our advice or command. Perhaps, it is nothing. Perhaps he does not really mean to pursue it. After all, he has been in worse situations before."
"I hope you are correct, Arthur," replied Lady Annabelle with a sigh. "For our sake, I hope you are. But I am afraid. It is different this time. She is different. I am very afraid."
"What do you mean?"
"This is not a casual flirtation, Arthur. Don't you see?" said Lady Annabelle. "I think he is falling in love with her."
"How do you know?"
"I know. I am his mother. I have instincts," replied she. "I just know. He looks at her a great deal with a soulful expression in his eyes. Did you not witness their exchange at the service this morning? And have you ever heard him talk of her many accomplishments? I fear for him. Miss Bennet seems like an intelligent lady. She must have taken him in..."
"Now, you are worrying needlessly, Annabelle," admonished her husband. "I was there too and I am not alarmed. The boy is young. He will grow out of this and understand his responsibility to us and the family. I trust him to do the right thing."
"Well, when he marries her and brings her here, do not say I did not warn you," replied Lady Annabelle with a pout.
Lord Sheffield regarded her. "Alright, then, I shall do something. What do you say we talk with Lady Catherine and announce his engagement to Miss de Bourgh?"
"That would be wonderful Arthur!"
Lord Sheffield smiled, "I shall speak with her then. Now, do you know where Victor is?"
"No," Lady Annabelle shook her head. "But I can guess."
Victor awaited the arrival of Anne's phaeton at the stable with impatience. He did not know why he was so anxious. Indeed, he did not know anything anymore. A variety of conflicting emotions arose in his breast, rendering him bewildered and suffering from an unfamiliar aching in his heart. For once, he had no answers for indeed, he knew not the questions that plagued him. All that he knew was that he felt for Elizabeth something stronger and more passionate than anything he had experienced before. He did not know how exactly to define that feeling. It was glorious and frightening, welcome and unwelcome. It terrified him because it was a new experience, a foreign and uncharted territory...to care so deeply, so passionately. In all his various love affairs, Victor had never been emotionally involved, never. But this time, something had changed. It was different, so very different and it scared him to his wits' end.
Yes, he was scared. Scared of making a fool of himself, scared of getting hurt, scared of hurting her, scared of losing her, scared of gaining her. There was no end, no beginning to his feelings. Dare he call it love? But what did he know about love. He, Victor, had been called many things by many people, but no one could call him constant. It was just not meant to be. He could not be constant in his love or his hate. His life was an ever changing kaleidoscope of people and events and he moved with the times, never stopping to see what hearts he broke or whom he left behind. He never saw anything morally depraved in his actions for he viewed himself as something of a god, invested with the power to rule his own life and that of his immediate circle of friends, acquaintances and love interests. It was not for him to worry about the devastation he caused when his interest in a particular love affair ceased. He simply did not inconvenience himself with such petty considerations for after all, he was Victor, heir to the Sheffield manor, blessed with a handsome face and happy manners. All was well with his life and what could possibly go wrong?
But something was terribly wrong. Elizabeth Bennet had entered his life and changed him forever. All of a sudden, without any prior warning, he cared. He cared about her, about what she thought, how she felt, what she did. He had rejected that at first as a valid emotion on encountering someone who seemingly was immune to his charm. That was how it had begun. She was a challenge, something waiting to be conquered by him and he had taken up that challenge like a man. She had always been very pleasing and inviting, but never eager. That intrigued Victor for he had never met a lady who could resist him and he convinced himself that that was where his interest ceased. But he had soon to realize that he was lying to himself. The challenge was still there, but there was something more at stake - his heart. Somehow, without his knowledge, his heart had sneaked in and gotten itself attached. He did not know how or why, but it had. And Victor did not like it one bit. He wished he could revert to the olden days when he did not care. That was just so much easier. But Victor knew that going back was not a possibility. He had been changed forever, for better or for worse. The challenge still remained, but the question was that once he conquered her - for he was sure he would in a matter of time - what would he do about it?
Victor was just contemplating this when the sound of quiet footsteps behind him caused him to turn around and gasp in surprise.
"Margaret! What are you doing here?"
The meretriciously dressed lady smiled broadly and said, "Oh, Victor, you look surprised, I do declare. Are you not happy to see me?"
"Margaret, this is the worst possible time!" shouted Victor, a sense of impending doom overcoming him as he heard the sound of Anne's approaching phaeton. Damnations.