A Rare Ability: A Darcy and Elizabeth Pride and Prejudice Variation (A Pemberley Romance Book 10)

by Harriet Knowles

  However, it was too late to regret it now, and she set her mind to more agreeable thoughts. Charlotte. It had been several days since she had seen Charlotte, and she looked forward to sharing the news of their relative families.

  And Jane. It would be quite nice to be able to sit and talk to Jane today, for Mr. Bingley and his party were not to be there tonight. Elizabeth understood from Jane that he had an unavoidable engagement over in Amwell. She smiled, quite believing the event to be unavoidable. Mr. Bingley would have tried very much to have been with Jane today.

  She wondered for a moment why he had not asked if he could escort Jane with him, as he had his sisters to chaperone her. Then she shrugged a little. Perhaps it was more of a business engagement.

  She was happy to get to Aunt Philips’ residence and bask in the warmth. She threaded her way through the many people to find her friend.

  “Charlotte! I know it is not many days since I have seen you, but it seems much longer.” Her smile of relief at different company for a few hours, drew an answering smile from her friend, who nodded towards a quiet corner.

  “Shall we sit there, Lizzy? We can watch what is going on without getting drawn into too much.”

  “It’s a good idea, Charlotte.” Elizabeth readily followed her friend. “There seem to be a lot of officers tonight.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I am not sure your aunt quite approves of them — at least not as much as Lydia does!”

  Elizabeth smiled reluctantly. “I wonder why Lydia is quite as wild as she is? I would wish that she had a little more — decorum and consideration.” She smiled at her friend. “ You have much better-behaved brothers and sisters.”

  Charlotte nodded, her eyes on the younger Bennet girls. “I’m sorry you are embarrassed by them, Lizzy. I don’t know what you can do to make things different.”

  Elizabeth followed her gaze to where Lydia and Kitty were surrounded by a bevy of young men in scarlet jackets. Charlotte was undoubtedly too kind to say that Mama had spoiled Lydia, and failed to chastise her bad behaviour.

  She looked more closely. “I don’t recognise some of the officers. I wonder if they have recruited more.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I heard that three more are come to Meryton. With the war escalating, there is much preparation for invasion. I understand Colonel Forster is for Brighton next summer. He needs many more men and officers.”

  “It is true, Charlotte,” Elizabeth nodded. “I always learn so much from you.”

  “You knew it already, I think, Lizzy.” Charlotte shook her head. “But you know I am interested in the war.”

  Elizabeth nodded, but didn’t speak. She knew Charlotte missed her brother John very much, and her younger brother might yet be sent to sea.

  One of the new officers, standing in the group beside her sisters, straightened and glanced round the room. His eyes caught Elizabeth’s gaze and she could feel her face heat into a flush. He was very handsome, with an open-faced, honest look. He smiled, and she met his eyes, smiling in return. Perhaps the officers were rather handsome, after all.

  Sir William approached them, with a proprietorial look of pride at Charlotte. “Hello, Eliza! You’re looking remarkably well today.”

  Elizabeth curtsied. “Good evening, Sir William. Thank you for the compliment. I’m enjoying talking to Charlotte.” She frowned slightly. “I don’t see Lady Lucas with you. I hope she is well?”

  Sir William looked a little anxious. “My dear Grace is a little unwell this evening, so she is resting at home with Maria to look after her.” He smiled. “She wants to be completely well for the ball at Netherfield next week!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I think we all want her to be fully well on that occasion, sir!”

  “Your sister’s betrothal is a fine thing for the country, is it not?” Sir William gave her an arch glance. “But we had hopes that his friend, Mr. Darcy, might be here with him more often.” His brow furrowed a little. “I recall you dancing with him at the assembly, Eliza!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I am sure Mr. Darcy must have a great deal of business in London, sir. And he only danced with me because Mr. Bingley insisted.” She leaned forward, smiling. “I can assure you of that!”

  “Lizzy! Lizzy! Come with me!” Lydia pushed her way past Sir William and seized her sister’s hand.

  “Lydia!” Elizabeth pulled herself free. “I am talking to Sir William!”

  “Oh, never mind that! I want you to meet the new officers before the card games start!”

  Elizabeth grimaced with vexation. Her sister always caused her untold embarrassment. Sir William smiled kindly.

  “It is all right, Eliza. You go with your sister.” Sir William’s kindly voice gave her the opportunity of preventing Lydia creating more embarrassment, but Elizabeth dearly wished someone would say no to her sister. She would never learn to moderate her behaviour, never become calm enough to make a good marriage — or allow her sisters to move in better circles.

  But she was being pulled along and she must greet the new officers properly. Warm chestnut eyes smiled at her from the handsome, amiable-looking officer who had caught her eye earlier.

  “Miss Elizabeth!” Mr. Denny bowed. “Please allow me to introduce Mr. Wickham, Mr. Monroe and Mr. Langham.”

  The officers all bowed to her, and Elizabeth curtsied back, smiling. So her smiling gentleman was Mr. Wickham.

  “I am delighted to meet you, Miss Elizabeth.” His voice was well modulated, and as pleasant on the ear as she might have expected. She smiled warmly at him.

  “So what made you join the militia here in Meryton, Mr. Wickham?”

  He held a chair for her. “I saw Denny in town and he told me of the great kindness of the people here towards the officers.” His smile was just for her. “And now I am convinced of the rightness of my choice.”

  Chapter 16

  Darcy sat opposite his sister as the coach bumped its way towards Netherfield. Beside him, Richard was showing his usual good humour despite the appalling roads. He wanted to scowl, perhaps he should not have brought them with him.

  He could endure a ball alone, and at least he could have had the journey time on his own to brood over his thoughts. But, the decision had been made and now he must sit here and make polite conversation, when he just wanted to think.

  He watched the landscape receding behind him, and listened idly to his cousin talking to Georgiana. At least they wouldn’t be discomposed if he didn’t speak.

  He wondered what the next day would bring. Although the weather was cold, he would be able to ride out early in the morning, and he knew he was relying on there being an answer from his unknown lady waiting in the chest hidden in the meadow.

  He smiled slightly, the kindness shining through the page had convinced him that even though two months had passed, she would have left a note for him.

  His lips tightened; thinking of the kindness of a lady had sent his mind at once to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was sure she would be at the ball tomorrow night, and he was dismayed at quite how much he was depending on a dance with her. Richard and Georgiana would be surprised.

  He smothered a chuckle, perhaps he could ask Richard to request the supper dance with her and then he and Georgiana would be also be with her then. He would like to see what they thought of her — and his heart sank. They would see — and hear — her mother, too.

  * * *

  The steam from the horse’s nostrils showed how cold it was as Darcy dismounted and stooped to find the hidden chest. He shivered, wishing he’d taken a little breakfast and not just coffee before riding out. But he pushed the thought away in his eagerness to see if there was a note for him.

  Yes! He seized the sheet, wondering how long it had been waiting for him, and read rapidly. Then he turned to the fallen log and pulled his greatcoat more tightly round him as he turned the sheet to reread what she’d said.

  Sir,

  I’m so sorry you didn’t have the assistance of someone who understood y
our difficulties when you were younger. I can comprehend just how distressing that must have been.

  But I think you must not disparage yourself. Your writing and obvious attainments show that you have overcome those difficulties, despite the challenges of doing so. It must have been utterly exhausting for you — I remember how very weary John was after even the most intimate family events.

  I believe you are to be congratulated, and you ought to be proud of what you have achieved.

  I will hope for you that you are able to find company that is understanding and congenial to you, I should not like you to be alone to have to ‘endure what you must’ as you wrote. Do you think there are members of your family who would be able to help make your life easier when you are obliged to be sociable?

  I am most fortunate in having a large and loving family and intimate friendships both within and without it, and reading your words has made me appreciate them even more. I believe I should be very lonely if I did not understand why they should be important to me, or why I am important to them.

  Darcy sat quietly on the log, allowing the import of her message to sink into his mind. Her words comforted him and she didn’t even know him.

  She assured him he had achieved a great deal — he could not remember when he had been praised for something he had achieved, rather than just who he happened to be, and he felt his heart swell. Despite his difficulties, he wasn’t a failure.

  He huffed a rueful laugh. He knew he was very successful in hiding his difficulties behind a proud and disdainful demeanour. But he could not countenance doing less. No-one must know of his inner torment. No-one.

  He found himself wondering again who this young lady was. She was astute and kind. She gave no indication of disgust at his words, and, importantly, no intimation that she thought he was weaker, less of a gentleman because of it.

  He turned to the chest. There was no evidence that she was still coming here, still writing her notes — perhaps she had left this note here two months ago. He reached for the ink and unscrewed the little bottle. The ink was fresh. He smiled, either she was still penning her diary, or she was returning regularly to replace the ink, in case he should return.

  Still smiling, he reached for the blotter. It would be very rude not to reply whichever was the case. He wondered again who the lady was. Searching the ballrooms of London had convinced him that ladies with such an understanding must be most unusual. Perhaps this lady was Miss Elizabeth Bennet herself? It was very unlikely there would be two such in this part of the country. He shook his head, he ought to have exerted himself to glance at one of the letters she wrote to her mother while she was nursing her elder sister at Netherfield. He was sure a glance at the direction would have told him if this writing was hers.

  He shivered, and drew his greatcoat more tightly around him, and began to write.

  Madam,

  I am very sorry that I have been unable to reply to you for so long. I have been away on business.

  Thank you again for your reply, it was most thoughtful and encouraging …

  He glanced out over the meadow. When he had finished his reply to her, he would take her note home with him to reread during the afternoon. Perhaps it would fortify him for the ball that evening.

  Chapter 17

  Elizabeth laughed as Lydia came rushing into her chamber that afternoon, clutching her pale green gown.

  “Lizzy! Kitty says I should wear this gown, but I’m not sure it’s the right one. What do you think?”

  “I agree with you this time, Lydia.” Elizabeth turned and looked at her sister. “What gown were you planning to wear?”

  Lydia stamped her foot. “I wanted the rose one of Kitty’s. I look much better in it than she does, but she is determined to wear it, just so that I cannot.” She caught at Elizabeth’s arm. “Tell her, Lizzy. Tell her I must wear it tonight.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I will not, Lydia. I think you look much better in your darker pink gown, it suits your colouring so much better.” She knew she ought to rebuke her sister for such selfish behaviour, but she knew the girl would run straight to Mama, and the evening preparations would become quite spoiled for them all.

  “Oooh! Thank you, Lizzy!” Lydia dashed back to her chamber, and Elizabeth smiled ruefully.

  She turned back to the glass and continued threading the tiny flowers into her hair. She was eagerly looking forward to this ball, and hugged her hopes close to her of an early dance with Mr. Wickham. She hadn’t even told Jane about her feelings — she knew he had no fortune, and that she must not allow her affections to be stirred; but she enjoyed his attention nonetheless.

  As she finished her toilette, she knew that she would have been able to tell Charlotte, if only her friend was still here in Meryton. She sighed. Before Mr. Collins had come into their lives two months ago, she hadn’t realised how very much she had relied on the very steadiness of her life to give her the security she needed, the feeling that she was in control of what happened.

  But, within days of Mr. Bingley and his party leaving for London, Mr. Collins had arrived and turned her whole life upside down.

  Not only had she received her first offer of marriage — and one that she hoped would never be exceeded in its unpleasantness — but she’d had to endure her mother’s censure and disappointment at her refusal to marry the cousin who would inherit Longbourn.

  Mama might be embarrassing and loud, but she was dearly loved, and Elizabeth hated to disappoint her so. But it couldn’t be helped, Elizabeth could no more imagine being married to her cousin than she could imagine marrying the Prince Regent — and both thoughts were equally unpleasant.

  However, the loss of the security of Longbourn had been a bitter pill to swallow, for no sooner had Elizabeth refused him; when she had hoped for a moment for she and Mama to plot to encourage him to turn to Mary, who would certainly have accepted him; but Charlotte had been there, and her engagement to Mr. Collins had been a shattering blow to both Elizabeth and her mother.

  Elizabeth was still friendly to Charlotte, and wished her all the happiness she could; but there was no longer the close intimacy that she had once enjoyed. Strangely, she also felt John Lucas a step more distant.

  Thoughts of John had turned her mind to Mr. Darcy again. He was a friend of Mr. Bingley, and she was sure he’d be at the wedding, now only three weeks hence.

  She smiled at her reflection, and stood up, smoothing down her gown. Perhaps she’d get a reply to her note in the hidden chest. Then she would know it was Mr. Darcy.

  But as she picked up her lacy shawl and went to the door, her mind was more on Mr. Wickham than Mr. Darcy.

  * * *

  The whole family ascended the steps of Netherfield Park and Mr. Bingley was waiting to meet Jane, his face a picture of amiable delight.

  “You are so fortunate to have won the affections of such a gentleman,” Elizabeth whispered to her sister, and Jane turned to her, flushed with pleasure.

  “I know, Lizzy. I can still scarcely believe it.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her arm. “You had better begin to believe it, Jane. You have but three weeks now until your marriage!” She laughed, and Jane did, too. She gave Elizabeth’s arm an answering squeeze and went to meet Mr. Bingley.

  Elizabeth followed her parents into the reception hall, looking with eager enjoyment at the crowds of people, trying to see the red coats of the militia officers. Lydia spoke from behind her.

  “I hope you don’t keep Mr. Wickham to yourself all evening, Lizzy. We want to dance with him, too.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I will not, Lydia. You know that one dance is all we can each have tonight. Mr. Wickham has not the fortune to ask for a second.”

  “Oh, I don’t take any notice of things like that!” Lydia looked petulant. “Just make sure he doesn’t sit and talk to you for too long. Send him to find me for a dance.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “I expect Mr. Wickham will know what he wishes to do, Lydia.”
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  A prickling sensation at the back of her neck made her turn carefully. Someone was watching her. After a moment, she saw Mr. Darcy, his expression tight, standing in the doorway from the main part of the house. A young lady was standing with him, and Elizabeth felt a sudden, strange feeling of loss. Who is that? She forced her mind away from the thought, and kept her expression untroubled.

  An officer was also standing with him, a senior officer from a regular regiment, she thought. But it was nothing to do with her, and she forced herself to turn away. Will he request a dance? She remembered their dance at the assembly all those months ago. She thought he’d enjoyed it. Perhaps he would ask her again.

  She turned and scanned the room again. There! A group of officers were surrounded by young girls, Lydia and Kitty prominently — and loudly — among them.

  Elizabeth watched from a distance. She smiled as she saw Mr. Wickham standing at the edge of the group. He looked up and saw her. Then he was striding towards her, beaming.

  “Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed deeply and lifted her hand to his lips.

  Chapter 18

  Wickham! Darcy scowled, enraged. He’d been unable to stop watching Miss Elizabeth Bennet, despite sensing Richard’s interest behind him. But the sight of that degenerate nearly undid him.

  He had to protect Georgiana first, her gasp told him that she had seen the scoundrel, and he turned, stepping in front of her. He bent solicitously. “We will go back to the private rooms, Georgiana.” He glanced up and met Richard’s eye.

  “Wickham.” He mouthed the word, and his cousin grimaced.

  They hurried through to the drawing room. “Tea, please. In the small parlour.” Darcy nodded to the housekeeper, and they went through to the smaller, cosier chamber.