Win, Lose, or Darcy

by Jennifer Joy

  "Only until the beginning of the Season. I am not yet out in society and prefer the quiet our estate at Pemberley affords. It is lovely up there in the spring and summer months." She spoke so wistfully, Elizabeth determined to keep the subject on Miss Darcy's home, as it seemed to put her at ease.

  "How lovely to have an estate to which to escape during the busy months. We have never been in London during the Season, so it is a novelty for us, but I daresay we shall long for the peace of the countryside before it is done."

  That comment got Lydia's attention. "Lord, no! I shall not miss Hertfordshire in the least."

  Kitty elbowed her. "We do miss the officers, though." She sighed, adding in a dreamy voice, "They looked so dashing in their red uniforms, gold tassels, and polished boots."

  Lydia said, "I will give you that. There were two officers in particular who paid us the most attention. Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham."

  Kitty and Lydia sighed and giggled.

  Miss Darcy tensed and her face drained in color. She looked at her brother pleadingly, and he was quick to come to change the topic of conversation. "Look, we are nearing the river. Have you ever been ice skating?"

  Her younger sisters easily distracted, they craned their necks around so that they could see the wonder which awaited them. Mr. Darcy continued to explain about the frost fairs and the activities to be enjoyed. This fair was small in comparison to others, but there was still much to delight their senses and divert them for an afternoon.

  Miss Darcy was exceptionally quiet and seemed to shrink under the blankets.

  Elizabeth looked at Jane, who was also concerned for the girl.

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth said in a voice meant only for Miss Darcy, "Meryton can keep the militia. I heard that they are to be encamped there for the whole of winter. I doubt we should see any of them here."

  Miss Darcy's relief was too great for Elizabeth to mistake it for any other emotion. Miss Darcy knew the officers mentioned in a way that inspired something nearing terror in the girl. Given Mr. Darcy's strong reaction to her defense of Mr. Wickham at the Netherfield Ball, Elizabeth could not help but wonder if she had been mistaken in her opinion of Mr. Wickham. It also became obvious that this timid girl was not seeking the attention of Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley’s threats were nothing but hot air.

  Mr. Darcy continued to speak, pointing out the different sights to be seen along the river, but his eyes never left his sister.

  "I am glad to hear that they shall be kept in Hertfordshire. I doubt that any of the officers would venture out when the weather has been so foggy of late," she said, her eyes begging for Elizabeth to agree that travel was impossible.

  Nodding her head enthusiastically, Elizabeth agreed. "Even an emergency could not have allowed for travel, and then they would have so many duties to attend to, which the weather could not have permitted them to perform, that I doubt any of the officers have been allowed leave to travel. I read in the newspaper that even the post could not be delivered over the past week due to the fog."

  Mr. Darcy bobbed his head at her, and Elizabeth smiled at his silent thank you.

  Pointing to the side, he said, "We are here."

  All eyes followed his finger. Elizabeth had never seen London so clean. The sun peeked between the clouds, reflecting off the glinting, fresh snow and icicles surrounding them. Everything sparkled white.

  "It is beautiful," she said under her breath.

  "We had best enjoy it while we can, for it will all be brown sludge tomorrow," commented Kitty.

  It was true, but looking around her, it was difficult for even Elizabeth to imagine. The world had been washed white, and the peals of laughter and song reached them from the families playing together on the thick sheet of ice covering the river. Mary would have made some comment about God's forgiveness washing their sins as white as the snow. Forgiveness. Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy. Had she misjudged his character?

  He turned back and met her gaze, only breaking away to look at his sister, whom he protected with the tenacity of a loving elder brother.

  The sleigh slid onto the ice, bumping over its unevenness, and jolting Elizabeth back to her senses.

  They came to a stop, and the footman seated alongside the coachman produced a basket and began pouring a hot beverage into mugs, which Mr. Darcy passed around. "My cook brews the best mulled cider," he said, ensuring that everyone in the sleigh had a warm mug to wrap their cold fingers around.

  Elizabeth inhaled the spicy cinnamon and cloves steaming up from her cup before taking a sip. Exclamations of delight surrounded her as they partook of the delicious drink.

  "Oy, Lizzy, if you are not going to drink yours, may I have it? This is delicious!" said Lydia.

  Mr. Darcy said, "No need. There is more."

  Elizabeth sipped at her cider before any other offers of assistance could be made. Mother handed her empty mug to Mr. Darcy for another helping.

  Gingerbread was produced, and the sleigh took a slow turn around the frozen river as they partook of their repast. It was the best gingerbread and cider Elizabeth had ever tasted. The company was proving to be equally agreeable. Had she been wrong?

  "Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" asked Miss Darcy in concern.

  Elizabeth shook her head and relaxed her brow. "I am very well, thank you," she said with a smile which led to a laugh. "I was only thinking about serious matters which have no business invading my thoughts on such a lovely day. I apologize and pledge not to allow it to happen again during the course of our outing."

  Miss Darcy smiled playfully. "Very well then, but my brother and I will keep our eyes on you. If we see the faintest hint of seriousness in your face, we will hold you accountable."

  Elizabeth laughed, as did Mr. Darcy. The sound of his deep guffaw nearly startled her, but she controlled her expression, knowing that Miss Darcy would notice.

  "It is a deal, then. But let me warn you that if I am to be nothing but merry, then so shall you both," she teased.

  Mr. Darcy leaned forward and said, "You have a deal, Miss Elizabeth," in such good humor, Elizabeth’s smile widened. This was not the same man she had met and believed to be so disagreeable in Hertfordshire. What had happened?

  Chapter 14

  Tents surrounded a large open space where several people skated across the ice.

  “It is like a miniature of London right on the ice!” exclaimed Kitty.

  “Look at the tents! There is everything from chocolate to silver spoons for sale.” Lydia pulled out her reticule and poked through its contents. She would ask for a loan before the end of their excursion.

  Elizabeth preferred to watch the people skating on the ice. There were experts who leaped and twirled, there were enamored couples using the opportunity to cling to each other, there were novices with wet knees and posteriors, and there were the prudently cautious who were pushed over the ice in the safety of a skating chair.

  "Do you know how to skate on the ice, Miss Elizabeth?" asked Miss Darcy, excitement all over her youthful face.

  "We have a decent sized pond at Longbourn that did us the favor every winter of freezing over." Elizabeth looked longingly out at the skaters. If only she had thought to bring skates.

  "I brought skates for everyone," said Mr. Darcy. "I also reserved the use of a skating chair for Mrs. Bennet if she would prefer that over strapping skates to her feet."

  Was there nothing he had not thought of?

  Mother was enchanted. With the help of Mr. Darcy and his servants, she was deposited safely into the skating chair, a warm blanket around her shoulders and tucked around her legs to keep the chill off.

  Jane, her skates strapped onto her boots, wobbled over to Mother's chair. "I am out of practice and not so steady on my feet as I would like. Allow me to push you, Mama?"

  Mother puckered her mouth up, her eyes flickering to Mr. Darcy. "I suppose so, dear, if it will keep you from falling. However, if the chair is too cumbersome, I might need the assistance of
a gentleman," she said, looking all the time at Mr. Darcy.

  "I will push with you, Jane," offered Kitty. "Lydia always twirls and spins while I am on her arm, and it makes me terribly dizzy."

  They set off across the ice and Elizabeth held her arm out to Lydia before her sister would embarrass them all by insisting that Mr. Darcy escort her. So far, her behavior had been tolerable, and Elizabeth intended to keep it that way.

  Mr. Darcy, looking either disappointed or relieved— Elizabeth could not tell— held his arm out to his sister and they expertly glided over the ice.

  "Oh! Look at how smoothly they skate over this bumpy ice. It shall be a miracle if we leave here with our rumps unbruised," said Lydia louder than necessary.

  "Let us keep talk of our nether regions to ourselves, shall we?" Elizabeth suggested.

  Lydia rolled her eyes and pushed off. Elizabeth scurried to catch up with her.

  Linking her arm through Lydia's, she said, "This probably is not the best place to attempt your jumps and tricks. We are far enough from home that a tear to your dress would send us all back to the house before we had our fill of entertainment."

  Lydia nodded seriously. "I had not thought of that. Nothing will keep me from ruining a perfect afternoon full of diversion or from spending every penny of my pin money. Who would have thought that stuffy Mr. Darcy was capable of arranging such a pleasant outing?"

  Elizabeth had not thought it possible either.

  Before long, they had caught up to the brother and sister.

  Miss Darcy called out, "Miss Lydia, would you mind greatly if we switched partners? I should like very much to skate with you for a few turns."

  Elizabeth's stomach lurched, and she would have stumbled had Lydia not held onto her so tightly.

  "Oh, Lizzy, is that not agreeable to you? I will not trade if you do not wish it," Lydia did not bother to whisper.

  Elizabeth winced. She did that a lot in Mr. Darcy’s presence. How could she possibly not trade partners without offending their host and his sister?

  "Nonsense, Lydia. Enjoy skating with Miss Darcy, but please take care not to go too fast." Or talk about officers. Or pretend to fall in front of a gentleman. Or say something foolish and insensitive. Or talk about rumps.

  The girls looped their arms together and set off at a rapid clip. Elizabeth reached her hand out after them, but Mr. Darcy said, "They will be fine. Georgiana has known how to skate since she could walk, and Miss Lydia looks perfectly capable."

  "That is only part of my worry," she admitted.

  "Shall we skate behind them then?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

  She answered in like manner. "I like how you think, Mr. Darcy."

  "Thank you for the compliment," he said in such a droll voice, she chuckled.

  What was this? Mr. Darcy made her laugh? Had he acquired a sense of humor since his stay at Netherfield Park?

  Together, they glided over the bumpy ice, her arm pressed firmly against Mr. Darcy’s side. His nearness put her nerves at a pique so that no amount of snow and ice could cool her feverish body. She shook her head at the foolish thought. It must be the exercise. She had no reason to react so strongly to Mr. Darcy: strongly… like the muscles flexing around where her hand was tightly wedged in the crook of his elbow.

  "I wrote to Mr. Bingley," he said, jolting Elizabeth's thoughts away from her reflections on his steady arm.

  "I would expect that as his friend, you would do so," she retorted, then bit her tongue at the sarcastic bite in her tone.

  Mr. Darcy looked down at her. "Quite right. I wrote to him that you and your family are in town."

  She looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Dare she ask directly? Oh, why was it so difficult to speak to him now when only three months ago she had so freely given him a piece of her mind? A piece she ought to have kept to herself.

  Thankfully, Mr. Darcy continued, his eyes returning to his sister and Lydia in front of them. "I would not be surprised if he returns to town as soon as he hears the news… that is, if his feelings are constant."

  "Do you have reason to doubt him?" she asked, trying to remember if she had spoken aloud. Somehow that seemed more comforting than the possibility of Mr. Darcy reading her mind.

  "I have no more reason than you do. Mr. Bingley has fallen in and out of love more times than I can count, and he was easily persuaded to quit Netherfield Park.”

  “Persuaded? Who persuaded him?” demanded Elizabeth, her breath coming out in puffs before her.

  “I will admit to having some influence in his decision to leave.”

  Elizabeth tried to extract her arm, but he turned to face her, coming to a stop. She ought to have known. Mr. Darcy had not changed at all!

  “Miss Elizabeth, please hear me before jumping to erroneous conclusions,” his eyes deepened to sapphire blue. “I know that you believe me to be an unjust, resentful man, and I beg you not to act in like manner.”

  Her indignation waned like a balloon with a hole in it. “I will hear what you have to say,” she muttered.

  “At the time, I believed myself justified in casting doubt against Miss Bennet’s attachment. Her manners toward Mr. Bingley were polite, but not encouraging. Another point against her were the presumptuous comments of Mrs. Bennet. She spoke as if an engagement were imminent as often as she commented on his wealth. Being oblivious to her public remarks, I felt it best to caution him. However,” he added quickly before Elizabeth could jump to Jane’s defense, “I have since observed that I was… wrong… about your sister.”

  My but that must have been difficult for him to say. Elizabeth doubted Mr. Darcy had ever had occasion to admit to being wrong. She did not find it in her heart to remain cross with him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for your honesty. Jane is shy and does not express the depth of her feelings even to me. As for my mother…,” she paused, embarrassed to the core. What could she say? “I am sorry.”

  His voice lowered, as soft as velvet. “You are not responsible for your family’s faults nor should you hold yourself accountable for their imperfections.”

  Did he mean it? Though it pained her to have his poor opinion of her family thus confirmed, they had done everything in their power to earn it. She would not gloss over their improprieties. But she could protect them. She could protect Jane.

  “You mentioned that Mr. Bingley often falls in and out of love… How sincere do you believe his affection is for Jane? I could not bear to see her heart broken again.”

  “If his feelings remain the same as they were some months ago, I cannot but say that he is sincere and that his affection will stand the test of time. His wife would be a very fortunate woman to have won his constancy."

  They drifted along in silence for a while, her mind abuzz with unanswered questions. What had caused this change over Mr. Darcy? Or had she been so blinded by prejudice that she had failed to see his true character? Dare she ask about Mr. Wickham?

  Mr. Darcy spoke before she did. "Thank you for assuring Georgiana that we would not see Wickham here and for averting her attention. It would have embarrassed her greatly for others to notice her reaction.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, “You see, Mr. Wickham used her very badly."

  That time, Elizabeth was certain she had not spoken aloud. She would have to take greater care to control her thoughts around Mr. Darcy if he could so easily read them.

  "I sensed as much," Elizabeth said. After some moments of heavy silence which communicated more to her than hundreds of words, she said, "Whatever she suffered must have been horrible and, as her brother and protector, it must have been painful for you to see."

  "It was," he said.

  Relying on him for support, she looked into his face. While it elated her to be able to read his expression, it saddened her to see the pain etched across his features.

  "Oy, Lizzy! What are you doing looking so serious when you have promised to be merry?" teased Lydia, who had
turned around and was skating backwards alongside Miss Darcy.

  “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you did make a promise,” added Miss Darcy.

  Pasting a smile onto her face, Elizabeth answered, "And what are you doing skating backwards when there are so many people about? Suppose you run into someone?"

  Thus chastised, the girls turned back around.

  She looked up at Mr. Darcy, whose smile looked as false as hers felt. No doubt, his thoughts were still on Mr. Wickham.

  "We should talk of more pleasant things, Mr. Darcy, lest I be called out again. I will not risk bringing on Miss Darcy's ire when she seems to have finally relaxed."

  Mr. Darcy chuckled. "I have only seen Georgiana angry once."

  “Only once?”

  "I will tell you about it another day. Now is not the time." He tightened his arm against his side, pressing her against him closer. "Shall we?" he asked with a wicked grin which took her breath and all sensible thoughts away.

  They dashed across the ice, passing Lydia and Miss Darcy as if they stood still. Tears pulled at Elizabeth's eyes, blurring her vision so that she had to trust that Mr. Darcy would not steer them into anyone. It was exhilarating! She squealed in excitement as they rounded a corner, Mr. Darcy expertly avoiding the slower skaters hanging along the edge.

  She heard his breath and, on occasion, thought she felt the pounding of his heart against his ribs— though it may very well have been her own.

  Finally, after several thrilling turns, they slowed as more people entered the ice.

  "We shall have to take more care now," he said, impressing Elizabeth with his sense of responsibility. It pleased her to see that his protective nature extended beyond his sister.

  He slowed even further, his gaze riveted to some newcomers to the ice.

  "Elizabeth! There you are!" said Sophia.

  Mr. Darcy groaned, though why he should do so was incomprehensible to Elizabeth.

  Letting go of his arm, Elizabeth skated over to the edge of the smooth ice and reached out for Sophia's extended hands. Mr. Gordon stood beside her, holding their skates.