by Meg Osborne
“I see you are drawing the same conclusion of all who know us as sisters,” Lizzy said, with a sly smile. “I’m afraid it’s true, Jane is the beauty of the family.”
“No,” Darcy looked at Elizabeth. “I mean, I merely noticed how comfortable they are together. I did not recognise it so easily before.”
“And you might not have gone so far out of your way to separate them if you had?”
Darcy was beaten, and he knew it. The dance drew to a close, and he turned, ready to escort Elizabeth away from the floor, back to the study if she wished it. Instead, Caroline Bingley appeared in front of him, and he felt certain there was no other polite avenue open to him than to invite her to dance. He felt the light pressure of Elizabeth’s hand lift, and kept his gaze lowered so he would not see her leave.
She had guessed his true motivations for coming to London, then. Guessed, too, that it had been he that was determined to separate Charles from Jane Bennet. Could she now see that he realised his mistake, that he, too, could see no better future for either Bingley or Jane that marriage could not offer?
“I see one dance with Elizabeth Bennet has rendered you quite speechless, Mr Darcy,” Caroline remarked, after they had been dancing in silence for a moment.
“I was not aware that conversation was a requirement for dancing,” he replied.
“Certainly not when you have used up all of your interest in speaking with Miss Eliza,” Caroline continued, undeterred by his disinterest.
“We shared but a few words, Caroline, no more.”
“I confess I was surprised to see you getting on so well, when I had been assured that you had no interest at all in Miss Bennet.”
“What concern is it of yours who I speak to, or dance with, for that matter? I am not your brother that you have any say over my actions.” He spoke lightly, but even Caroline Bingley could scarcely have avoided his irritation.
“I am not concerned,” she protested. “Not for you.” She glanced pointedly over to where Bingley continued to dance with Jane Bennet. “Yet it seems our intention to separate a match who we both agree is an unsuitable one has failed most disastrously.” Her eyes narrowed. “I had so determined to keep them apart. How was I to know Jane would come to the house?”
“You knew the Bennets were in London?” Darcy asked, after a moment’s silence.
“Of course I did,” Caroline smiled maliciously. “Dear, sweet Jane wrote to me asking if they might call, and inviting me to call on them - though of course, I would hardly deign to visit Gracechurch Street, even if we were the very closest of friends.”
“Indeed.” Darcy wished nothing more than to bring the conversation to a close. He could not help the feeling of instant dislike that crossed over him as he listened to Miss Bingley’s machinations. It had been one thing for him to invite both she and Mr Bingley to London for Christmas, separating his friend from a rushed match by virtue of geography, but to maliciously attempt to keep the couple apart by spurning the invitation of one who considered you a friend was a step too far. The matter was complicated further now that Darcy recognised his own error in judgement. He certainly stood by his assessment of Mrs Bennet and the other girls, but Elizabeth and Jane could not be cast in the same light. Jane clearly felt for Bingley as he did her, and there seemed little enough obstacle to their marrying now. Darcy determined he would do all he could to repair the damage he might have caused, or at least contributed to.
“Still, at least with Christmas tomorrow, it is unlikely we shall see them. And after Christmas...well, I am sure Charles will soon forget Miss Bingley once I introduce him to a few elegant ladies of my acquaintance. And you must invite dear Georgiana to town, Darcy, you know how fond he is of her -”
“Certainly,” Darcy answered quickly, hoping only to bring Miss Bingley’s musings to a swift close. Mercifully, the music indicated that the dance was finished, and he bowed hastily to Caroline. “Do, please, excuse me, Miss Bingley.” He walked away before she could protest further.
Chapter Five
Successfully avoiding being pressed to dance again, Darcy stood to one side, watching the guests around him enjoying the party. He concealed a sigh, and continued to stare straight ahead, but in reality, he was somewhere else entirely.
He recalled the greenery of Pemberley. Even in December, with weather as bleak as theirs had been in London, Pemberley still always seemed to be surrounded by greenery. Georgiana would be playing some pretty festive piece on the piano, and he would be free to do as he pleased, without anyone insisting he dance or make polite conversation with strangers. And Elizabeth would be there. He blinked, surprised by this invasion of his own thoughts by Miss Bennet. Why would she be at Pemberley?
“What are you thinking about, standing here so seriously?” Caroline Bingley joined him, standing a fraction too close for his comfort, and eyed him suspiciously.
“I am merely enjoying the ball,” he replied, with an affectation of boredom.
“Nonsense!” Caroline laughed. “Your thoughts have carried you off somewhere. You forget, Mr Darcy, I know you well!”
Not so well as you care to imagine, he thought. Caroline Bingley was a very accomplished woman, and he ought to like her on account of her brother if nothing else, but his vague irritation with her persisted, nay, increased this evening.
“I am surprised you are not dancing, Miss Bingley.”
“Ah, there is nobody I care to dance with that has asked me,” she replied, with a meaningful glance in his direction. “It is a shame, for I do hate being a wallflower!”
“I hardly think anybody could accuse you of that.” Darcy had hesitated a moment before making the polite rejoinder, but even so, Caroline's eyes had lit up as if he had offered her a great compliment.
“You see how sad it is for poor Miss Bennet, relegated to the wallflower bench,” Caroline said, nodding in Elizabeth’s direction.
Darcy looked over and was surprised to see that, yes, there was Elizabeth surrounded by other girls too unfortunate to be dancing at present. But where the other girls wore expressions of patient forbearance, Elizabeth’s was all amusement in watching the actions of the other dancers. She even engaged the young woman next to her in conversation, and Darcy noticed with interest how that particularly mousy young woman blossomed under Elizabeth’s attention. The two seemed firm friends already, and not strangers thrown together by circumstance.
“Where is her sister?” he asked, peering out to see if he could locate Jane Bennet.
“She is still monopolising my brother,” Caroline said, annoyed. “I declare, Charles has hardly danced with any other of our guests before returning to Miss Bennet. Who knew she could be so captivating.”
“She is very pretty this evening,” Darcy said. “And recall, they were fond of each other even before this evening.”
“Is that not the problem?” Caroline grumbled.
“Is having Miss Bennet for a sister such a dreadful prospect?” Darcy asked at length.
“Why, Mr Darcy, you have certainly changed your tune!” Carline remarked, with a smile that bordered on a sneer. “I had no idea you were suddenly such a proponent of Charles marrying into that family -”
“I do not think it kind, necessarily, to judge a person on their family,” he said, realising, as he spoke, the truth of his words. He thought of his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and drew his lips together in a line. She might be a person of great authority and position, but would he relish being viewed as one entirely in her image?
“Indeed?” Caroline squawked. “And so you will follow my brother’s suit, no doubt, and secure Miss Eliza’s hand before the year is out? For you are so keen to be welcomed into the Bennet family.”
“I did not rejoice in the Bennet family,” Darcy protested, wearily. “I merely suggested that we ought not to judge the sisters on an accident of birth.”
Caroline was speechless, but her eyes flashed with anger.
“I see,” she said. “Well, Mr Darcy
, you surprise me. How I thought I understood you, but apparently the air in London is just as befuddling as that of Hertfordshire, both you and my brother seem quite lost to me!” She darted another glance over at Elizabeth, and shook her head. “Personally, I do not see the attraction.”
***
“Lizzy! I am so sorry to leave!” Jane Bennet joined her sister in the carriage Mr and Mrs Gardiner had sent for them. “And I am sorry not to have seen you often this evening. Have you not been dancing?”
“I think you have danced enough for both of us!” Lizzy remarked, with a gentle laugh, as she saw Jane's prettily flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How many of those did Mr Bingley spare you to dance with other people?”
“Just a few,” Jane said. “He said he wished to keep dancing with me himself, for he could see no other person he so wished to spend time with at the party. Oh, Lizzy! Do you think it possible he might care for me?”
“I think it impossible he might not!” Elizabeth laughed, looping an arm through her sister’s. “Isn’t it a mercy that Aunt Gardiner was so kind as to invite us to stay in London for Christmas?”
“I am just sorry that they had to leave for London at all!” Jane confided as the two girls sat back in the seat of the carriage.
“Well, we have Mr Darcy to thank for that.” Elizabeth grimaced.
“Oh, I noticed you dancing with him!” Jane said. “Tell me, is he not quite the ogre you imagined him to be?”
“I never said ogre,” Lizzy protested. “But certainly he has played a villain in this story. You realise he contrived to separate you both, and that was his motivation for inviting Mr Bingley all the way to London for Christmas?” She shook her head. “Vile man.”
“Not at all!” Jane said, seriously. “He is concerned for his friend, I cannot fault him for that. You see how quickly he seems to have realised his mistake, for he has not hesitated to invite us to spend time with them once more.”
“Hmmm.” Lizzy was not as willing as her sister to be generous. She did not doubt Mr Darcy had his own reasons for appearing welcoming now, but they would hardly be likely to be in the cause of love.
“Oh!” Jane cried, as the carriage began to move off. “Oh, I have forgotten my shawl!”
“I can fetch it!” Elizabeth said, hopping up to alert their driver that they needed to delay a moment. Ignoring Jane’s objections, she hurried down and back towards the house, already scanning the ground for her sister’s lost item.
The house was still emptying of guests, for she and Jane had bid a relatively early retreat, and so, not wishing to bother their hosts further, Elizabeth hurriedly retraced her steps, trying to recall any place that Jane might have been and thus left her shawl. She would not have worn it to dance, she reasoned, and avoided the room that had served as ballroom, choosing instead to weave through the corridors, exchanging polite smiles with the guests she passed. Seeing Caroline Bingley heading in her direction, she made a quick decision to avoid her, and pulled open a door at random, hoping to hide for a moment and allow that lady to pass. It would achieve nothing to involve Caroline Bingley in the search and Lizzy rather feared her reaction would not be a generous one. Counting silently to ten, in order to allow the danger of being seen to subside, Elizabeth was about to pull the door open and re-enter the corridor when a man’s voice arrested her progress. She turned, and was surprised to see another door leading to an anteroom off the one she had chosen for her refuge. This door was ajar, that she was able to overhear the conversation of its occupants, without being seen herself. I ought not to eavesdrop, she counselled herself, but when she recognised the voices of first Mr Bingley and then, even more distinctly, Mr Darcy, she could not help but linger half a moment more. They conversed easily, but there was a slight strain in Mr Darcy’s voice that she had never before noticed.
“...and so, there you have it. The action, and my part in it, I confess without reservation. I can only express my regret, now, at doing it, for the harm it might have caused you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened involuntarily at hearing his words. What action Mr Darcy referred to she could not speculate upon, but so eager was she to hear Mr Bingley’s reaction to such a confession, she hesitated, unwilling even to breathe, lest she be discovered.
“That Caroline would scheme so is no great surprise to me,” Bingley responded, in a tone more serious than any Elizabeth had ever recalled the bright young man using before in her hearing. “I love my sister dearly, but we both know she has her own ideas of how things ought to unfold, and is not beyond offering fate a helping hand if she perceives a need of it.”
A gruff laugh emanated from one of the two men: Elizabeth could not determine which by listening, and was reluctant to go any closer to the door for fear of them seeing her. She need not see them, anyway, to understand their conversation. Every instinct of goodness urged her to retreat. This was a private conversation between two friends, and ought not to be listened in on by anyone. Thus decided, she began to tiptoe back towards the door when the mention of a name even dearer to Elizabeth than her own stopped her in her tracks.
“I admit now that I was entirely wrong about Miss Jane Bennet,” Mr Darcy said, his gruff tone not belying the honesty that underpinned his comment. “I acted in your interest, in what I thought was your interest. I knew you had felt an affection for her from the first: I thought you deserved to have that affection returned, and did not think her capable of such a deep and abiding love.”
Elizabeth’s blood froze in her veins. How dare he make such a supposition about her sister? He barely knew her! She fought the urge to march into the little room and explain just exactly how deeply Jane cared, regardless of Mr Darcy’s ill-informed opinion, but he had continued speaking and the words she heard began to soothe her ruffled feathers.
“I now see I was mistaken. Her feelings were plain yesterday, when we happened upon them in the park, and again this evening.” There was the sound of footsteps and Elizabeth imagined Darcy stepping forward, taking Bingley’s hand in his own and grasping it warmly. “She had eyes only for you, and I think it providential that she be here in London at this time, to afford you a chance to repair the damage I and your sister caused by separating you so completely.”
“Providence? This cannot be my logical friend Darcy speaking to me,” Bingley said, in a tone that began to warm. “Next you will be telling me that you, too, have fallen in love. No, that I will not believe.”
“Then I will not test your credulity by saying any such thing,” Darcy said, his words coming out in sharp staccato. “I will only advise, no, implore you: speak to Miss Bennet soon, if you truly care for her. Secure her hand while you can, before anything else may happen to delay your happiness.” His voice lowered, but Elizabeth could still make out his bitter final sentence. “You may not get a second chance.”
The door behind her creaked open, and Lizzy spun around to be greeted by Caroline Bingley.
“Miss Eliza!” She cried, and Elizabeth felt shock and embarrassment colour her features. “What are you doing hiding in here?”
Not waiting to see if the anteroom’s occupants had heard Caroline’s exclamation or come forward to see what was going on, Elizabeth darted for the door.
“I was not hiding, Miss Bingley,” she quickly explained. “I had merely returned to look for my sister’s shawl. She appears to have left it behind, and I did not want to burden you with looking for it - aha! Here it is.” Mercifully, Elizabeth happened on the stray garment at last and scooped it up from where it lay, unnoticed, on the floor. “Thank you once more for a lovely evening, Miss Bingley. I hope you and your brother have a wonderful Christmas, and no doubt we shall see you very soon after the holiday!” Her eyes twinkled at the dark shadow that flashed over Caroline Bingley’s features, but she did not linger long enough to hear any response.
“Good night!” she called, skipping out to their waiting carriage.
“Lizzy, oh thank goodness, I was worried something had happen
ed!” Jane said, as Elizabeth clambered into the carriage and they set off once more for home. “You were gone an age, was it really so very hard to find?”
“No,” Elizabeth said, passing the shawl to her sister. She repeated the overheard conversation in her mind once, twice more, debating whether she ought to share it with her sister. Watching the way Jane glanced towards the window, the calm serenity that settled over her features, she decided she would not share it this evening, but wait and see whether Mr Bingley would act on his friend’s urging. Soon, very soon, Jane might be engaged! She hugged the secret to herself. What a wonderful Christmas present that would be!
Chapter Six
Christmas day passed quietly at Gracechurch Street. Although Elizabeth knew it highly unlikely that Mr Bingley would call so very soon after the ball, especially on Christmas Day itself, still she found herself eagerly jumping up every other moment that she might look to the window and observe who passed, or question the servants as to whether any note had been left. Keeping her secret was a delicious torture and she almost told all to her sister on more than one occasion, only managing to keep her counsel when she recalled Mr Darcy’s part in the conversation. Something about his words had worked their way deep into her mind, returning to her at the most inopportune of moments. At church, the Christmas liturgy and scripture readings she had heard countless times previously took on new meaning, with exhortations to remember the perfect timing of the Christ-child coming, the way his mother had to trust to providence and act in good faith.
At dinner, Mr Gardiner was much recovered and eager to join them, and they had a jolly meal all together, laughing over simple parlour games and singing merrily around the piano. Lizzy was mercifully forgiven the task of playing for them, and while Jane played a little, Mrs Gardiner took on the lion’s share, and the day passed into evening in a warm haze of comfort, good food and good company.
