by APRIL FLOYD
Bingley shook his head in defeat. “I had hoped I might win her heart, but it is true that since the colonel came she seems more delighted in his presence than mine.”
Caroline stood and looked at Elizabeth. Her friend’s countenance held no mirth. Taking Elizabeth’s arm, she led her to the library door.
She glanced back at her brother. “It is not charitable to trifle with these poor, country folk. I am certain there will be a young lady in London who would be greatly pleased to become mistress of Netherfield Park should you choose to keep it after all this heartbreak and disappointment.”
Bingley kept up the appearance of his usual amiability as he danced with his female guests the night of the Netherfield Ball. Elizabeth thought he truly did like his country neighbors.
Ever since she had told him she would leave the day after the ball, Bingley had seen less of Miss Darcy but visited the Lucases and several other families in the area.
Caroline had arranged a most lovely event with the limited resources of a small, county hamlet but Elizabeth was in no mood to entertain the officers who asked her to dance time and time again.
She had danced with Bingley twice. Mr. Darcy, who she would have danced with, danced with his sister and Miss de Bourgh and several other young ladies of his acquaintance.
Elizabeth did not care for the feelings that squeezed her heart each time he smiled at one of the young ladies who passed in front of him hoping for an offer to dance. If she were honest, she would call those feelings what they were — jealousy.
When she was sitting with Caroline while the musicians were on a break, Mr. Darcy approached them. “Miss Bennet, may I have the honor of dancing the next set?”
Elizabeth smiled at him and looked at her dance card, pretending there were names there. She did not want to seem eager. “You have come at a most opportune moment, sir. I will dance with you, but only if the colonel will dance with my friend.”
Mr. Darcy bowed to the ladies and hurried away in search of his cousin while Elizabeth laughed. Caroline elbowed her. “Eliza! How could you do such a thing? I do not wish to dance with a soldier. Thank heavens I did not invite our friends from London. I would never recover from the shame!”
“Oh Caro, do try to enjoy the ball tonight! You worked so very hard to make it a beautiful event. The colonel is handsome and not so silly as the junior officers you see dancing with Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh.”
Caroline sniffed and stuck out her chin. “The colonel is handsome, that is a point in his favor. But only one set and no more. Do not drag me into your infatuation with Mr. Darcy. You may pursue him without my aid.”
Elizabeth gasped. “You think I hold a fascination for the man?”
Caroline nodded most enthusiastically and tapped her friend on the arm with her fan. “I have tried to ignore it and heaven knows I wish you did not prefer him, but it is plain to me, Eliza. I have known you for many years, and I can see how you look at him. Like a love-struck girl, you are.”
Elizabeth did not know what to think. Certainly she had admired Mr. Darcy’s handsome features and physique, but she had not thought it obvious to her best friend. Caroline had only ever teased her about the man. Tonight, something had changed all that.
“Rubbish, Caro! I see that he would be a wonderful match for any young lady besides myself. He is appealing in the way of all forbidden fruit. We do always want what we must not have.” Elizabeth thought her denial strong enough to fend off her friend’s accusations.
“Well, you may have him now. Here he comes with his cousin,” Caroline whispered angrily as she rose with a sweet smile to cover her irritation.
Regardless of whether she approved of the society of Hertfordshire, she meant to represent her brother and family name well.
Elizabeth stood and Mr. Darcy offered his arm. The musicians had returned to their places and the music began again. Someone had demanded a waltz and Elizabeth scowled as Bingley whirled in front of them with Miss Darcy in his arms. There was no remedy for the situation. She would have to dance the waltz with Mr. Darcy.
Taking a breath, she smiled up at him and was soon swept easily across the dance floor. His arms were warm and strong but he did not hold her too closely.
Elizabeth appreciated his gentlemanly manner and gave herself to the music. The waltz was her favorite to dance with many young men in the past, but they all faded into distant memory as she danced with Mr. Darcy of Longbourn.
He was strong, yet his strength was tempered by respect. He was handsome, yet his countenance was tempered by responsibility. He had not the face of a young man just free of his mother’s apron strings. His was a face that would have stubble that could scratch a woman’s tender skin.
Elizabeth blushed and lowered her lashes as she thought of how he would look before he rose from his bed each morning. Lifting her gaze, she saw he was watching her with the same scrutiny.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, finding herself breathless as she spoke, “why do you stare?”
He smiled then, a quirk of his lips that caused the dimple in his left cheek to deepen. Elizabeth wanted to kiss that spot, to always see it when he smiled at her.
The thought unsettled her and she wished Caroline were near to tease her and drive out her foolish and dangerous thoughts.
“I see the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance and I wonder if she knows how difficult it is to recall the steps of the waltz with the terrible distraction she provides,” Mr. Darcy said, his voice husky with emotion.
Elizabeth had not thought he would be so bold but she had asked the question. Her heart jumped and she gazed into his eyes, lost to the music and the romantic nature of the moment.
She regretted that they could never be more than acquaintances. Her heart wanted more. “I think perhaps we both have trouble recalling the steps. Perhaps it is not meant for us to dance together?”
Mr. Darcy pulled her closer and Elizabeth gave a small squeal of surprise. It was scandalous to dance the waltz and be handled by a gentleman not her beaux nor husband, but her mother would welcome it if Mr. Darcy held a title.
Elizabeth did not mind being wrapped in his arms, in fact she found it thrilling and the smell of him, his own scent mixed with the spicy, citrus aroma of his cologne, left her intoxicated — drunk with longing for this gentleman.
The music ended and Mr. Darcy released her. Elizabeth struggled for a moment with her balance, but his hand was there to steady her, hold her up while she regained her footing.
When she left him to rejoin Caroline, Elizabeth knew she ought not to have danced with Mr. Darcy. It had opened her heart to the man.
Elizabeth was resigned to leaving Netherfield the next morning. Her own attraction to Mr. Darcy could only bring her trouble. Bingley’s love for Miss Darcy would likely end in the same way. She searched her heart again to find whether she was only envious of the young lady. All she honestly found was concern for her friend.
Caroline chattered on for miles about how fortunate her brother had been to avoid an imprudent marriage. “It is better for Miss Darcy, as well, for if Charles had proposed, Mrs. de Bourgh may have caused a scene over her own hopes for her daughter and embarrassed us all. No, I think it most wise to have avoided any connection to that particular family.”
Bingley kept his head down and Elizabeth felt a great sadness fill her heart for the man. Caroline would worry them all the way to Town with the matter if she did not intervene.
“Caro, do let us forget the Darcys and the de Bourghs. I wish to know what you may do for the winter. There were so many invitations for us both before we left London. I thought perhaps we might go to Pemberley for Christmas. Mother wrote she hopes to leave town no later than the middle of November. She has some grand plans for a huge ball, you know.”
Caroline left off with the discussion of Miss Darcy as soon as mention of a winter ball escaped her friend’s lips. “Do you think we might lure Lord Aisling and Lord Spencer to Pemberley?”
El
izabeth laughed. “I do not think there is a need for subterfuge where those two are concerned. I am certain Lydia and Kitty have already invited half of London. The innkeepers in Lambton and Kympton will be busy indeed.”
At Longbourn, Georgiana held the note that had arrived from Netherfield Park after breakfast. Hill said it had been brought by a footman and Georgiana hoped it was another invitation from Miss Bingley.
She sat in the parlor with her cousin and aunt holding the missive gently and praying she might be asked again to their home.
Mr. Bingley was everything she might hope for in a husband; so kind and gentle. His temperament complimented her own and he always made her smile. Their conversations had revealed what a good match they would make. Georgiana knew she was in love though she had never loved a man before.
“I say, how long must we wait to find whether Miss Bingley has invited you for tea once more? You make Anne jealous with your silly smile and fawning over a note,” Mrs. de Bourgh said, her patience at an end.
Anne looked to her mother. “I am not jealous of my Georgiana. Quite the contrary. I am pleased it seems Mr. Bingley may propose marriage any day.”
Catherine de Bourgh gave her daughter a fierce look of censure. “It is only because you were ill all that time at Netherfield and Georgie was able to dine with him and play cards in the salon after dinner.”
Georgiana ignored her aunt but opened the missive and began to read silently. Her face fell as the words were not the ones she had hoped to read.
Dear Miss Darcy,
We have left Netherfield this morning for London but I wished to write to you and say it was my great pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Miss Bennet is impatient to see her sisters, and to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet them again.
I really do not think any of the Bennet sisters has an equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments. I once dreamt my brother would marry one of them.
I do hope this letter finds your cousin well and that we may see you again in the summer if we do return for a time.
Caroline Bingley
Georgiana’s eyes filled with tears and she stood quickly. Mr. Bingley had left and made his sister give notice. Not a word from him had come from Netherfield.
She turned the paper over several times to see whether he had included his own note or written in the margins, but it was only Miss Bingley’s handwriting there.
Her aunt’s hand on her arm brought her back to the parlor. Its walls seemed to close around her and she gasped for air. Clutching the terrible letter, she ran from the room for the gardens where she might release her tears alone.
“Georgiana, come back this instant! I demand to know what is in that letter!” Mrs. de Bourgh called as she chased after her niece.
Mr. Darcy and the colonel had entered the parlor from the hallway by his study and he blocked his aunt from leaving the room. “Let her go, Aunt Catherine. If she wishes to share what news has come, it will be at her own discretion.”
Anne moved around her family members as silently as a cat and slipped into the back hallway and through the dining room to the kitchen. She chose an apple from the bowl on the table and shoved it in her skirt pocket.
Before she might make good on her escape, Hill caught her and wrapped a woolen shawl about her shoulders. “’Tis cold out, Miss. This should keep the two of you warm.”
The housekeeper nodded at the clump of trees on the far side of the garden. Anne smiled at Hill and hurried across the grass that had grown brown after a hard frost.
It crunched beneath her boots and her breath left small white clouds in her wake. She meant to comfort her cousin and learn what the letter had said that upset her so.
Chapter 6
Elizabeth had been in London only a week when her mother revealed the surprise she meant to save for their return to Pemberley.
She and her sisters were sitting in her favorite room at Bennet House, the brightly decorated drawing room.
Lady Francine’s body shook with glee, her hands clasped before her. “We shall have a double wedding the day after the ball, ladies. The Earl of Carrick has spoken with your father as we expected and asked for our Janey’s hand.”
Jane’s countenance was one of surprise and relief though Elizabeth knew she had fully expected Alec Buchanan to propose before the new year. It was all Jane had spoken of since Elizabeth’s return to Bennet House in Grosvenor.
Turning to her mother after Jane’s tears of happiness had ceased, Elizabeth asked which of her other sisters had received a proposal. It would be a surprise, for not one of them had spoken of a beau since her return to London.
Lady Francine smiled and spoke in a mysterious manner. “We will meet your groom later, Lizzy. He will come for dinner and declare himself to you afterwards.”
Elizabeth struggled to draw a breath after the words your groom. The room was silent for a full minute after her mother spoke. Then her sisters surrounded her demanding to know who the man was and why she had kept it a secret from them.
Only Jane hung back and looked at Elizabeth with dread. Ignoring Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, Elizabeth rose and went to Jane, her eyes giving away the realization that had dawned upon her as air filled her lungs again.
Elizabeth whispered desperately. “It cannot be. I will never marry him!”
Jane took Elizabeth’s hands in her own, cradling them gently. “It must be Lizzy, for what man of our circle has not asked for your hand already and been turned away for seeking only your fortune?”
Elizabeth pulled free of Jane’s grasp and turned to their mother, who sat happily satisfied that two of her daughters would wed by Christmas Day and to titled men. “Mother, I do hope you and Father have thought this matter over carefully. If it is my cousin from Manchester, I will not marry him. I would rather be disowned than submit to that foolish excuse for a duke. I do not love him and you well know it.”
Lady Francine rose from her seat and glared at her second eldest daughter. “You will marry him, Lizzy! You will become a duchess. The matter is settled.”
Elizabeth stalked from the drawing room and went in search of her father. There was no use wasting words on her mother, she would never see reason.
All her mother desired was to have the titles of countess and duchess for her two eldest daughters. Such a coup would assure that Elizabeth’s younger sisters would also marry where their mother demanded, save perhaps poor Mary whose looks and pious nature were sure to save her from such a fate.
Mr. Bennet was obscured in a fine wreath of fragrant smoke when Elizabeth pushed open his study door. He was most pleased when alone in his inner sanctum and Elizabeth could find no fault with that choice. Especially today.
She went to sit across from him. He placed his cigar in the crystal tray he used for its ashes and rubbed one hand down his face, cupping his chin as he stared at her at last. Neither spoke for a moment but when words came, it was from both at once.
“Mother has said he will seek my hand tonight. I will not marry him Papa for he is an idiot…”
“I know, I know. I am against the match your mother insists upon…”
Mr. Bennet held up his hand to gain Elizabeth’s silence before he continued in jest. “An unhappy alternative is before you, my daughter. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry the duke, and I will never see you again if you do."
Elizabeth crossed her arms and glared at her beloved father. “Although I usually find cause to laugh when in your presence, Papa, I am not amused. Why did you not warn me? I could have found a better man to marry had I known.”
“Your mother has long said that you all must marry for title and rank, my dear. Certainly you did not think she would refuse the offer of a duke for the hand of one of her daughters? She only wishes it was Jane who would be the duchess. And you have turned down many a young man better than Collins.” Mr. Bennet retrieved his cigar and beg
an to make the rings that would wreath his head again after she left him.
Elizabeth appealed to him in the way she knew best, she gave a challenge. “You are the head of this family, though Mother attempts to undercut your authority at every turn. You must tell my cousin that I am already promised elsewhere. I will find a suitable gentleman to marry, one that I could love and respect.”
Mr. Bennet gave a hearty laugh and stood, his hand out before him in the timeless gesture of sealing a bargain. Elizabeth took it and shook with vigor.
“I grant you a fortnight my dear for I cannot delay longer. And I will not tell him you are promised elsewhere until it is indeed the truth. Your mother may be harder to put off than your cousin for she wishes to leave soon for Pemberley in order to plan this double wedding and ball. I am surprised she has not had our trunks packed to leave at dawn.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply, relieved for the moment that time had been granted to her. “How will you delay giving your blessing when my cousin proposes after dinner?”
Mr. Bennet smiled serenely. “It is not I who must find a way to put the man off, remember?”
Understanding his point, Elizabeth thanked her father for what help he had offered and quit his study.
She called for a carriage to be brought round. The butler stepped quickly to do his mistress’ bidding but gave her a warning first. “Your mother is still in the drawing room. Best you hurry on your errand.”
Did the whole of the house know she was to be proposed to this evening? But of course. Her mother could never keep news from anyone including the servants.
Rushing outside as the thought of her cousin’s unwanted proposal loomed in her mind, Elizabeth climbed aboard her carriage and called for the driver to take her to Bingley House. Her dear friends would surely know what must be done.
