Chapter Three
Darcy’s eyes widened in astonishment as he reread Elizabeth’s letter to him. He had known she was unlike any lady he had ever met, and she always seemed to meet him with boldness…but this?
I wish to speak with you on a matter of the heart of some import.
Miss Bingley leaned closer to the desk, and Darcy hastily shoved the unsealed paper under one of his own. A part of him knew the danger of meeting Elizabeth. Do not do this, his mind cautioned. Leave tonight and return to London. Do not fall prey to her arts. However, a greater part of him was curious as to what she would say. Would she be like all the other women who had thrown themselves at him? The thought disappointed him. He had thought Elizabeth was of a different sort, not grasping at his income or estate.
Maybe she is different. His body reacted strangely at the notion. If he were the poetic sort, he might have even said his heart leapt. Darcy had already been tempted to meet with her when he had quickly shunned all other offers of entanglements. Still, now he could not reason it away.
Yesterday, she spent the entire day with her sister. Elizabeth had seemed anxious for Jane throughout dinner, and when she joined them later in the evening. By comparison, Bingley’s sisters professed concern for Miss Bennet. However, they quickly forgot about her within minutes when she was not in front of them. He hazarded a guess that the only reason they had spent so much time with their invalided guest yesterday was due to his absence from the home.
When Elizabeth had joined the party in the drawing room after supper, she responded to everything with sincerity. She did not join them at cards. Neither did she attempt to garner anyone’s notice. She had chosen a book to read. However, she entered the surrounding conversation quickly enough. She did not puff herself up when Miss Bingley had decried the abilities of women usually called accomplished. Elizabeth had sent no sly looks to Darcy—and he had been watching her closely.
Yes, if Elizabeth claimed her heart was involved, Darcy had every reason to believe she wrote the truth. What was he to do then? It would be ungentlemanly to dismiss her out of turn, would it not?
You are playing with fire, the more prudent part of his mind called again. Darcy accepted the fact. He already liked Elizabeth too much. Without any visible effort on her side, she always drew his attention. He had not thought her very pretty at first sight, but the more he looked at her, the more he saw things to like. He saw, too, her personality, intelligence, and vivacity. These were all things that intrigued him more than a heavenly smile or even her brilliant eyes. He had told himself only that he admired her, and it need not lead to love or matrimony as Miss Bingley had teased. He had taken for granted that Elizabeth would have been overjoyed with his attention if he chose to bestow it. However, he had never guessed that he might have unconsciously inspired love in her.
His pulse raced at the thought, and for a moment, the room spun in a circle. To win a woman like Elizabeth’s love for who he was and not what he could offer … Well, could he walk away from that even if she were not from the first circles or had anything of monetary gain to offer him?
“Mr. Darcy, pray, do remember me to dearest Georgiana.” Miss Bingley peered over his shoulder. “You have not written anything new in ages! You must not like your pen. I will mend it for you.”
She made to lean forward, reaching around him, and Darcy knew it was by design. He moved in such a way to avoid having her breasts rub against him. He laid his pen down before Miss Bingley’s hand could “accidentally” graze his. “Thank you for the offer, but I always mend my own.”
Unbidden, his eyes sought Elizabeth. She held an embroidery circle, but if he was not mistaken, she had done very few stitches. She studiously gazed at the white fabric, and while Darcy could not see her eyes, he observed the slight upturn of her lips and the way she held her shoulders. Oh! She was laughing at this! How curious! She must not be the jealous sort if she found Miss Bingley’s very unwanted attention humorous.
Undeterred by Darcy’s rejection of attempted physical contact, Miss Bingley continued to speak in a one-sided conversation. Did she suppose she could harass Darcy into marriage? He considered some of the married couples he knew. Perhaps that was indeed a tactic used by some females.
In a bid for peace, Darcy requested a reprieve from the barrage of messages Miss Bingley asked him to pass along to his sister. The fact that they do not correspond should be proof enough to Miss Bingley that my sister does not care to hear from her! As always, with Miss Bingley, saying anything at all was simply taken as encouragement. Distracted as he was, he fell prey to her next favourite occupation: false flattery.
“Miss Darcy will be most pleased to receive such a long letter! Are you always such a charming writer?”
Did she actually bat her eyes at him? He fought to keep the look of disgust from his face.
“My letters are often long, but it is not for me to say if they are charming.” What sister would use that word to describe a letter from her brother?
“Anyone who can write a long message with such ease must write the very best sorts of letters.”
Darcy just barely kept his mouth from dropping in an open gape. How desperate was Miss Bingley getting? That was some of the poorest logic he had ever heard, and she was not usually so stupid. Thankfully, he was saved from having to reply by Bingley. In the brief respite he had from answering, Darcy’s mind wandered again to Elizabeth’s letter. It was not long, but there were signs that she had paused in thought while writing. But then, who could write of the heart with ease?
“Charles ruins all his letters! He forgets half of the words, and his penmanship looks like scribbles,” Caroline cried as the conversation regarding letter writing continued.
“I regret to say that my ideas flow too rapidly for me to write coherently,” Bingley said with a chuckle.
“How modest you are, Mr. Bingley!” Elizabeth entered the conversation at last with a smile for her host.
“Do not be deceived, Miss Elizabeth. Bingley is proud of his letter-writing as he thinks it makes him interesting. Indeed, he greatly admires rapidity of thought and decision—even on some matters which should be taken very seriously and given time to come to a decision about.” Darcy gave her a long look. Did she write hastily as well? He had not thought she made rash decisions.
“If the matter is of little importance, such as conveying the general nothingness of how one fills their days, then I can see no harm in writing freely.” Elizabeth paused before continuing, “However, there are some occasions when one must weigh their words with more deliberation. Such as if one is writing about potential dates and times. Missing a meeting might have catastrophic consequences. Surely, there is no proof that Mr. Bingley is as careless in his letters of business as he is in personal letters to a sister.”
Bingley chuckled, and even Miss Bingley allowed it to be so. Darcy thought he discerned Elizabeth pressing for confirmation that he had received her letter and agreed to meet with her. How could he signal a time and place to her? For that matter, when had he decided to indulge her?
“If you will pardon me, I shall conclude my letter to Georgiana. Ladies, would it be too much to request some music?”
Miss Bingley nearly jumped from her seat. In a matter of seconds, she was at the pianoforte playing an Italian love song. Darcy would have rolled his eyes, but instead, they were drawn to Elizabeth as she looked over the sheet music. Undoubtedly, Miss Bingley desired to showcase her abilities and perhaps inspire some sentiment for herself. Instead, as she sang about the most beautiful woman in the world and the man who loved her unto death, Darcy could not help but notice how pretty Elizabeth looked this night.
Thankfully, an opportunity to speak with Elizabeth presented itself when Miss Bingley began playing lively Scotch songs instead.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said after approaching. “Would you care to dance a reel with me?”
For a moment, he thought she would refuse him again.
“It ma
y be difficult when there is no one else dancing,” she said with a blush.
“I had thought it would allow us a word or two in privacy,” he whispered.
Mutely, Elizabeth nodded and placed her hand in Darcy’s. If this had been a formal gathering, they would have worn gloves. As it was not and the room was well-heated, neither wore barriers over their hands. A tingle of awareness leapt up Darcy’s arm at her touch.
He led her to an open area that could suffice as a makeshift dance floor. For a few moments, they danced in silence. It was different, as Elizabeth had said it would be, to dance with no other partners on the floor. However, Darcy also relished being the sole focus of her attention. The music was such that they did not often touch, but when they did, it seemed Darcy’s heart skipped a beat.
“I believe you had wanted to speak with me?” Elizabeth asked. “If we continue in silence, the others shall find it peculiar and quiz us.”
Darcy smiled. “Well, we cannot have that, can we?” He raised a brow. “Especially when our topic of conversation is about a clandestine meeting.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she quietly gasped. “I see you have found my missive.” She paused for a moment and focused on the complicated footwork required by the dance. “I almost regret writing it. You must think me very forward.”
“I find you everything charming.” He had never spoken truer words.
She blushed. “I am glad to know that I improve upon acquaintance. Or have you learned to tease?”
“I assure you, I am in complete earnestness. Your wish is my command. When shall we meet?”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at Miss Bingley, who watched them with intense focus before replying. “I was hoping to walk the grounds tomorrow morning after breakfast. Surely two people might happen upon each other by accident.”
Darcy smiled. “It seems highly probable, in fact.”
“Yes, I thought so. I am known to walk as often as possible, so it is not an unusual activity for me. Is it for you?”
“I do prefer riding, but enjoy walking as well.” A vision of riding with Elizabeth around the fields of Pemberley entered his mind.
She laughed. “It shall have to be walking for I am no horsewoman. Besides, if I encountered you on horseback, I would be far more likely to race away than encourage a conversation. Alas, I am sure your step is longer than mine, and so I would not be able to outstrip you in a walk.”
He grinned and chuckled. “You have thought of everything, it seems.” The music drew to a close. Darcy bowed and raised Elizabeth’s hand almost to his lips. “I look forward to speaking with you on the morrow.”
“Eliza, are you certain dear Jane is well without you for so many hours?” Miss Bingley called from the pianoforte.
“You are correct,” Elizabeth answered. “Thank you for a lovely evening. Your performance was absolutely inspiring, Miss Bingley.”
“You understand Italian?”
“Sì. È una lingua meravigliosa!” she replied with a perfect accent.
“You are absolutely, correct, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said from where he was still standing by her side. “I was also inspired by Miss Bingley’s music and find the Italian language beautiful.”
Caroline frowned as she looked between them. Elizabeth cocked her head and furrowed her brow, as though Darcy’s words had confused her. “Yes…well, good night,” she said to the room with a curtsey.
Darcy could hardly explain what happened for the rest of the evening. Miss Bingley continued to irritate, and Mrs. Hurst assisted her most faithfully in the endeavour. Bingley sighed now and then, while looking longingly at the door. Mr. Hurst snored from the sofa. Darcy had spent countless nights just like this. A few weeks ago, he would have said they were among his happiest way to pass an evening. As annoying as Bingley’s sisters were, it was a small gathering and not a large ball. He also knew he could be in a foul mood and say what he wished without fear of negative consequences. Between a love of Pemberley and love of their brother, there was very little Darcy could say or do which would upset Caroline and Louisa. However, all that was before he had met the captivating Elizabeth, who wished to speak to him about the matter of her heart.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth barely touched breakfast and paced the lanes around Netherfield until she thought Mr. Darcy would be waiting for her near the shrubbery. He had acted very oddly the night before. However, he had said that he was inspired by Miss Bingley’s love songs. Hopefully, that bode well for Jane.
As Elizabeth approached the predetermined area, she could hear voices. She scowled at Miss Bingley’s falsely sweet voice. Through a gap in the bushes, Elizabeth could see the other lady wrap a hand around Darcy’s arm in a vice-like grip. Good heavens! How would they ever be rid of her? Elizabeth did not know how Darcy tolerated the woman’s attention. However, he listened to Miss Bingley last night with perfect equanimity.
“As for your Elizabeth’s portrait, you must not have it attempted. No one could do justice to those beautiful eyes!”
“I do not think a man could copy her expression, but the colour and shape might be duplicated. Surely there is a brush that could copy her lashes.”
Elizabeth blushed. They could not be speaking of her.
“And I have been thinking about her London relatives. You must dine at Gracechurch Street once a month and always invite them to Pemberley for Christmas.”
Stifling a gasp, Elizabeth stepped back. Was this a jest? A cruel joke to provoke her?
“I thank you for your many suggestions toward my happiness. As you are so solicitous to it, I wondered if I could trouble you for the apothecary to be called again.”
“Why? Do you feel unwell? Perhaps that is why you are so attracted to Elizabeth Bennet!”
Elizabeth stifled a gasp. She had nearly convinced herself they spoke of a different woman.
“I am in perfect health. It would ease my mind if Miss Bennet were attended to again.”
“Very well,” Miss Bingley said with a sigh. “I shall go at once.”
Thinking quickly, Elizabeth feigned just arriving up the path and hailed them. “Is that you that I hear, Miss Bingley?”
“Yes.”
The woman’s voice was unnaturally high as though she were disconcerted. Rounding the corner so she could finally see them, Elizabeth saw alarm on Miss Bingley’s features and something startling on Darcy’s. He was pleased to see her! All this time, she had thought Darcy watched her to criticise.
“Did you need me, Miss Elizabeth?” Miss Bingley asked.
“You must pardon Miss Bingley,” Darcy interrupted before Elizabeth could speak. “She was just going to the house to request Mr. Jones examine your sister once more.”
“Oh, in that case, allow me to walk with you, Miss Bingley.” Elizabeth looped her arm through the woman’s and nearly dragged her away from Darcy. “You are most kind.”
Elizabeth walked briskly, and Miss Bingley seemed disgruntled at attempting to keep up. For a few moments, they walked in silence. Then, she heard steps behind them.
“There is no need to cut your exercise short, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said as he reached her side. Blast his long legs! “Miss Bingley is an excellent hostess and knows how to send a servant to find the apothecary and direct him to your sister’s room. You must not neglect yourself.”
“I know what I am about,” Elizabeth said, hoping to sound indifferent but internally pleading for some way to put distance between them. She needed to reconsider how to speak with him regarding Jane. She could not even look at him now!
“You have cooped yourself up in Miss Bennet’s chamber nearly since you got here.”
She could hear the frown in his voice and tightened her grip on Miss Bingley’s arm. “Hardly, sir. I dined with you all on the first night and came downstairs for supper. I was in the drawing room when my mother called the following day—although perhaps the less said about that, the better. I again dined downstairs yesterday and spent the
evening in the drawing room.” They had almost reached the steps. “I did come to spend time with Jane, and you can hardly ask me to sacrifice her comfort.”
Releasing Miss Bingley’s arm, Elizabeth raced up the steps. “I shall get her ready for Mr. Jones’ visit. Thank you again, Miss Bingley. Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
Then, she dashed inside and did not cease moving until she was on the other side of Jane’s door, safe from Mr. Darcy and his unwanted admiration. She panted from her exertion, or was it the rapidity of her thoughts? His esteem was unwanted, was it not? She had never liked him. Ever since he made that remark about her at the ball …
“Oh, dear,” she said aloud, her back still against the door. Had she really only disliked Mr. Darcy because he wounded her vanity?
“Of course, I have other reasons!” she muttered to herself. “He … he … well, everyone knew that he was uncivil and too proud to mingle with the company of Hertfordshire.”
“What are you saying, Lizzy?” Jane asked sleepily from the bed.
“Nothing, dearest. How do you feel? Did I wake you?” She smoothed a hand over her skirt and feigned a look of calm composure.
“I am feeling much better, but I am tired of staring at these walls.”
“Well, Mr. Jones is arriving soon to examine you again. Perhaps he will tell us you may leave the room, and if we are very fortunate, we can return home soon.”
Jane blushed. “Would you think very badly of me if I said I do not wish to leave Netherfield just yet? I still have not seen Mr. Bingley, and a short visit with him this evening would hardly be fair after how many days I have spent in his house.” She gasped and covered her face with her hands. “Goodness! Does that make me sound too much like Mama?”
Seven Days With Mr Darcy Page 110
