by P. O. Dixon
“Are you all right, Miss Elizabeth?”
Bewildered by the plethora of sensations flooding her entire being, she nodded. Freeing herself from his loose grip, she backed away. Which turned out to be a mistake, for in not looking where she was going, she stumbled over a stick in the path and fell. The ensuing pain was such that she could not disguise it, forcing her now to do that which moments ago, she desperately wished to avoid. Accepting his proffered hand, she was once again amazed by the frisson of heat that such a seemingly innocent action aroused.
“You are injured.”
She shook her head. “My ankle, although it is not something I have not experienced before. I shall be all right in a matter of minutes, no more than a quarter an hour or so, I am sure.”
Concerned, Darcy said, “I must ask you to sit while I examine your ankle.”
“Sir, how would it look if we were to be discovered in such a compromising position?” Elizabeth cried.
“I do not know that there is a feasible alternative. What is more, as there are only the two of us about, there is no chance of anyone seeing us.” Having taken off his riding coat and fashioned a rather cushiony seat for her, he commenced coaxing her to sit.
Upon doing as the gentleman suggested, she grew astonished when he lowered himself to a knee and reached for her boot-covered ankle. Unthinkable thoughts flooded her mind of what him removing her boot even if only to inspect her ankle might entail. She swallowed hard.
“No!” Elizabeth protested. “What I mean to say is that I shall — I shall do it. Pray, turn your head, Mr. Darcy, while I remove my boot.”
“If you insist,” he said, standing and stepping a short distance away, his back turned as she had requested.
At length, he turned to look back at her. Having removed her boot and detected a slight coloring, she by now had put it on, and she was in the process of lacing it. “There is nothing at all to see,” she lied. Standing unassisted, she masked the ensuing discomfort with her smile. “Shall we proceed?” She asked, ignoring her own pain. In truth, she had indeed suffered worse and had managed just fine on her own, sometimes even relying on a makeshift crutch fashioned from a fallen tree branch.
This time shall be no different, she silently considered. Elizabeth was determined to do anything to escape the sole company of this man with whom she now felt herself in some danger. These unmaidenly and not to go unmentioned unsisterly-like sentiments I am wont to suffer toward this man simply will not do.
Glancing into the dark eyes of the handsome man who had extended his arm to her in an offer of support, Elizabeth silently affirmed. I will overcome this.
Chapter 9
Exacting Standards
Fitzwilliam Darcy’s absence from breakfast that morning was duly noted and remarked on with alacrity by the Bingley sisters. Not that Charles Bingley minded. He, more than anyone, revered his friend. In fact, he depended upon his friend most prodigiously to advise - even instruct - him on those matters that Darcy was inherently aware of and that Charles himself had yet to learn. The fact that his friend had attended Miss Bennet so diligently as he had the evening before gave Bingley pause, knowing as he did that she was not the sort of woman who might tempt his friend.
On the other hand, I have yet to meet any woman who satisfies my friend’s exacting standards. He threw a casual glance in his younger sister’s direction. Would that Darcy would look Caroline’s way. Bingley laughed a little at the prospect of such a union.
She is my sister, but I dare not wish such a fate upon my best friend.
Charles then looked at Miss Anne de Bourgh and tried not to notice her companion’s attempt to get the young woman to eat. No doubt, Darcy will eventually relent and marry his cousin. Even he cannot be immune to the enormous financial prospect of uniting the two great estates.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s commanding voice drew Bingley’s attention away from his study of Anne and her companion.
“Speaking of absences, I find it exceedingly odd that Miss Elizabeth did not bother to join us.” Looking at Jane pointedly, Lady Catherine continued, “She is your sister. Where is she?”
“My sister has a penchant for being an early morning riser, as well as a fondness for solitary rambles. I fear her enthusiasm to explore the grounds may have caused her to lose track of time.”
Despite her calm response, Charles could tell that Jane was growing increasingly concerned that her sister had not returned, were he to judge by her frequent glances in the direction of the large antique clock towering in the far corner of the opulent room. Not wishing to see her so distracted, he kindly offered to walk with her in search of her younger sister.
“What a grand idea, Charles,” cried his sister Caroline. “Louisa, my dear, is that not a grand idea?”
“I could not agree more.”
“What say you, Miss Bennet?” Charles asked.
“I appreciate your kind offer. However, it is not necessary. I am certain my sister is set to return even as we speak.”
Not to be so easily deterred, he said, “Then, what say you to a stroll about the grounds? Pemberley’s extensive gardens are quite the sight to behold.”
“It shall be my pleasure, sir.” Jane looked at a few of the others gathered around the breakfast table. “Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, I hope you will accompany us as well.”
“Oh! I never walk so early in the day so long as I can help it,” cried the younger woman.
“Nor I, to be sure,” said Mrs. Hurst. As for her husband, he likely did not hear a word Jane said judging by his attention to his plate of eggs and various meats.
“Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh—I certainly did not mean to exclude you. I rather supposed you might have other plans,” Jane said in recognition of her earlier lapse.
“Pray—do not be absurd, young woman. Neither I nor my daughter have made it a habit of walking about parks. We rely on phaetons for such purposes.”
A quarter hour later, Bingley could not say he was happy to see his friend Darcy appear from nowhere and accompany him and Miss Bennet on their walk in the east garden. Even though very much there in person, Darcy’s mind appeared to be a thousand miles away, which suited Charles just fine. Indeed, Darcy’s taciturn nature was precisely what the situation demanded.
Although his friend strolled on one side of Miss Bennet and Charles the other, the latter was certain, judging by her smiles, that he commanded the greater share of her attention. Unless he had misread her entirely, Miss Bennet’s sentiments were much the same as his own.
How he loved seeing her smile.
I shall endeavor always to speak upon those things which encourage her smiles even more.
Elizabeth abandoned the hope of spending the morning with her sister Jane when she espied her walking in the garden with Mr. Bingley. After studying the couple for a moment or so, she did not know whether she was relieved or disappointed when Fitzwilliam Darcy approached Jane and Bingley and joined them on their walk. She could not help noticing that once again, Mr. Darcy seemed contented to have his friend Bingley carry the bulk of the conversation.
He is not at all as he had been earlier when walking along with me. Then he had been livelier.
Indeed. He had informed her that soon there would be additions to their party. His younger sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, was due to return from a visit to the North along with her companion.
He went on to mention his father’s godson, a Mr. George Wickham, would be arriving at Pemberley as well. Elizabeth could not help noticing the change in Mr. Darcy’s manner upon the mention of Mr. Wickham’s name. What a stark difference in the joy and anticipation that shone on his face when speaking of his young sister, Miss Darcy, in comparison with speaking of his father’s godson. She could hardly wait to discover the true reason for such a change in the man. On the other hand, the man who walked beside her had shown quite a few facets of his character to her since her arrival at Pemberley. The side of him she liked best was the side he had
shown that morning.
Again, she chastised herself for thinking of the gentleman who would be her sister’s suitor for so long as she did. Assuming a comfortable position on her bed to rest her ankle, she picked up the book that rested on her bedside table, opened it, and resumed reading where she had left off the day before.
If her mind wandered a time or two to her early morning walking companion, she would hardly admit it.
Chapter 10
Serious Consideration
The next several evenings progressed in much the same manner as the evenings before. Same guests, same pairings, same attitudes. Having exchanged brief pleasantries with one or the other throughout the past days afforded Elizabeth a better understanding of each person’s true nature.
Between Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Miss Bingley, Elizabeth did not know which of the two ladies she preferred less. She merely had a chance to observe Miss de Bourgh, for that young lady rarely spoke to anyone at all. At times, Elizabeth did sense hints of genuine affection toward Fitzwilliam Darcy on the part of his cousin whenever the gentleman walked into the room. However, it was nothing in comparison to the way Miss Bingley was wont to do and say most anything that she suspected might garner the gentleman’s approbation. Knowing her ladyship’s designs for her nephew, it did not surprise her at all to observe the disdainful manner in which Lady Catherine regarded Miss Bennet.
At least my sister Jane shall not be alone in facing the grand lady’s wrath. Of that, I am quite certain.
The elder Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet were content to spend their time away from the others, which came as no surprise to Elizabeth, who suspected the two old friends preferred to escape the drawing-room escapades in favor of quieter times in the master’s study.
Mr. Hurst, Charles Bingley’s brother-in-law, appeared to be quite the recluse, content to recline on a comfortable seat near the fireplace. It dawned on Elizabeth that she had yet to see the gentleman speaking to his wife. There is no wonder, she silently considered. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, when she is not putting herself in Fitzwilliam Darcy’s way, are like two peas in a pod, always with their heads together no doubt discussing secret affairs and concocting schemes for the younger to attract the gentleman’s notice.
Whether that particular gentleman was affected by Jane’s charms, Elizabeth could not say, but she did not detect in the gentleman’s manner any similar symptom of disdain that defined his evident lack of esteem for Miss Bingley.
At the risk of devoting too much of her attention to her sister and Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth instead chose to engage the colonel, who sat next to her on the sofa, in light repartee as a means to pass the evening.
“I understand in speaking with your cousin Mr. Darcy that we are soon to expect several additions to our party, sir.”
“I take it that you are referring to his lovely sister, Georgiana, and her companion,” he said. “By the bye, when, pray tell, did you and Darcy have the opportunity to speak on this matter?”
Elizabeth had hoped that her time alone with Fitzwilliam Darcy was something she might not share with anyone, and yet she had opened the door to its revelation herself. Supposing she was safe with the colonel, she confided, “A few days ago. You see, I encountered him, completely by chance, on my return to the manor house after a solitary foray about the lovely grounds.”
“Indeed, I seem to recall your telling my aunt that you dearly enjoyed long walks.”
“Yes, very dearly,” she said, attempting to rally her spirits to playfulness. “It seems I am quite indebted to your cousin for pointing out the proper route to the manor house when I came to a fork in the path.”
“Yes, I know that spot very well. I would say my cousin’s arrival may well have saved you a great deal of time. You owe him, indeed. Of course, he is a man who has everything. I hesitate to think how you might satisfy your debt.”
“Either you are laughing at me, or you mean to warn me of something, sir. Pray which of the two is it?”
“You are no doubt a sensible young woman—too sensible to suppose I would ever dare laugh at you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Then you mean to warn me. If there is something I ought to know, then I pray you will do me the honor of telling me, else I shall begin to think the worse.”
“I will simply state that Darcy is not a single man by chance. Indeed, my cousin has remained a single man for so long as he has by design.”
Elizabeth felt a sense of dread in anticipation of what the colonel might then say.
He must have read her apprehension. He said, “I will also wholeheartedly affirm that my cousin is an honorable man. You are in no danger from him. On the other hand, the other expected addition to our party whom Darcy may or may not have mentioned to you—”
“—His father’s godson, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth interrupted, feeling grateful for a change in the subject.
“Mr. Wickham indeed. You ought to know that he is nothing at all like Darcy. In fact, were you to find yourself at a similar fork in the road with that particular gentleman, I would strongly urge you to choose one without hesitation and not merely walk but run, as fast as you can, screaming for help all along the way.”
“Oh, dear,” she said, pressing her hand to her bosom. “Certainly, the godson of the elder Mr. Darcy cannot possibly be as detestable as you make him seem.”
“I am afraid he is far worse. Consider yourself forewarned, Miss Elizabeth, and act accordingly. Promise me you will heed my advice.”
Later that evening, Elizabeth was given to wonder about the colonel’s odd, albeit glowing, commendation of his cousin Mr. Darcy’s character. As best as Elizabeth could tell, Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man of impeccable character, even if he was a bit too taciturn at times. Still, she sensed with a bit of uneasiness that the colonel was doing his best to warn her about something.
Why did he inform me that Mr. Darcy had remained single for so long as a matter of design? Elizabeth wondered. Certainly it is not uncommon for a man of his age to remain unmarried. The colonel himself remains unmarried. She thought to question him on that once they were better acquainted.
Were I to do such a thing now would surely be interpreted as impertinent.
The last thing she wanted the gentleman to think was that she sat around thinking about his marital inclinations or lack thereof. Even as the second son, the gentleman must have his fill of female admirers. He is, after all, the second son of an earl, which much surely enhance his prospects of marrying a young woman with a large fortune. Smiling to herself, she entertained the idea that something in the range of fifty thousand pounds might be reasonable. Though not so handsome as Mr. Darcy - the colonel was certainly very agreeable to look at and anything that he lacked in that regard, he made up for with his amiability and charming nature.
Once again, her thoughts harkened back to the colonel’s cousin Mr. Darcy. Why her every thought led back to him, she could not say. Pacifying herself with the knowledge that she could hardly tell her mind what to think, she decided it was best simply to give in to her curious fascination rather than squander her time seeking to suppress it.
“My cousin has remained a single man for so long as he has by design.” Elizabeth commenced tapping her fingers. Those particular words must certainly mean something, but what? She pursed her lips. Does the colonel mean to suggest that even now his cousin does not intend to relinquish his coveted single status? Is this the colonel’s way of telling me that his cousin does not mean to give serious consideration to courting my sister—no more than he has with respect to marrying his cousin Anne?
What a troubling thought this was for Elizabeth that her sister might be nothing more than a pawn in the young man’s scheme. “A scheme to do what?” she wondered aloud. “Does he simply mean to appease his father by going along with his ‘agreement’ with my father?”
A chilling sensation rushed over her, and she folded one arm over the other to comfort herself. “Does my sister’s heightened expectations, her kind sensibi
lities, mean nothing to him?” Elizabeth did not know how she would bear it if Jane’s heart was painfully affected by such a prospect.
“While it is true that there were no promises made on either side of an alliance, and the decision rested solely with the two of them, Fitzwilliam Darcy and my sister, some expectation of sincerity on the former’s part was reasonable to expect.” Since learning of this peculiar arrangement, Elizabeth suspected that her elder sister had come to rely upon it.
Chapter 11
Pleasing Prospect
As much as she was enjoying her stay in Derbyshire, Elizabeth missed being at home. She missed her mother. She missed her sisters. Most of all, she missed her intimate friend Charlotte Lucas. Always when she was in Hertfordshire in want of someone to talk with about matters that she did not necessarily wish to discuss with Jane, she turned to Charlotte. Always. She wanted desperately to discuss the inexplicable feelings she was suffering toward the heir apparent of Pemberley, but, how could she? It was unseemly enough that she allowed herself to think of them. She could indulge her fantasy all she wished, for fantasy by its very nature was not real. It was just pretending. Committing such thoughts to paper, on the other hand, lent an air of credence to her sentiments that she was not certain she desired. In fact, she was entirely certain she did not want to express her feelings or rather her confusion about her feelings toward Fitzwilliam Darcy with anyone.
However, she felt she ought to write to Charlotte about all the other happenings at Pemberley. On the eleventh evening of her stay, she decided to do just that.
Dear Charlotte, Elizabeth began. I trust that this letter will find you well. Pray you will forgive me for allowing so much time to pass before writing to you. My only excuse is that there has been so much to entertain since my arrival. Not that such a reason is a valid excuse, but it is indeed all I have.
