Mr Darcy’s Struggle
Elizabeth felt tense as they approached Lucas Lodge. Darcy had insisted that she rode with him and Georgiana. She was pleased with not having to endure the overcrowding of the Bennet carriage, and she must get used to travelling with Darcy, but still, the closeness of him tonight made her uneasy. His dark, penetrating eyes rarely left her face. She had tried to make polite conversation with them both, but Georgiana was too excited at the prospect of attending a real ball, and Darcy was unwavering in his attention and replied only curtly. As they pulled up to the entrance, the footman jumped down to help the ladies out of the carriage, but Darcy brushed him aside and completed the task himself.
Once inside and relieved of their cloaks, Darcy admired Elizabeth’s gown. The underlayer was pure white and reached the floor, where her matching slippers peeped out. The sheer overlayer was decorated with small silver flowers and leaves, intricately woven into the fabric. Her dark locks were in the Grecian style with silver-headed pins holding it in place. She was stunning; he was under no illusion that he would be the envy of every man here tonight. He glanced around the room, and then frowned; there were too many people, too many men. The prospect of other men coveting his fiancée was extremely distasteful to him.
He must also be circumspect over Georgiana. As she was not yet ‘out,’ Darcy should have refused her plea to accompany them, but he saw no harm in her attending a small family gathering. Of course, she would not be able to dance with anyone other than Richard and himself, but she was content with this arrangement. Her delicate features glowed with excitement, and it made her look younger than her sixteen years. The delicate gown of lemon, with small green vines growing up from the hem, suited her perfectly. He would have his work cut out this evening, ensuring the well-being of both his ladies. As usual, Darcy was dressed impeccably, with his waistcoat complimenting Elizabeth’s dress perfectly, embroidered with a pattern of silver knots.
Sir William and Lady Lucas greeted them, offering felicitations on their upcoming nuptials. Then Sir William bade them enjoy their last night as single people, and he winked at Darcy. It was kindly meant, but inappropriate with two unwed females at his side. Sir William had a tendency to put into words, sentiments that should remain thoughts, but his jolly demeanour showed it was said in jest, and not with malice. Charlotte and Mr Collins welcomed them next, and Darcy’s brow furrowed again. He offered the clergyman the curtest of nods in acknowledgement of his greeting, then swept the women into the ballroom. Elizabeth was mortified that Darcy had let Mr Collins’s presence affect him so. She alone understood the reason behind his action, yet to others, it would appear as though he had been excessively rude. She would have to remind him that his actions now reflected on her, too.
It turned out to be more than the intimate gathering she had been led to believe, but at least most of the guests were friends or family. Spying Colonel Fitzwilliam, she hoped he would ask her to dance; they had enjoyed a warm friendship when both in Kent.
Elizabeth watched as Georgiana gently disengaged herself from her brother’s arm and went to talk to Elizabeth’s younger sisters, who were now standing with Maria Lucas. She felt a pang of envy at how carefree and happy they seemed and longed to join them as they laughed and chatted together. Six short weeks ago, she could have done just that, Elizabeth thought ruefully.
Elizabeth and Darcy would be expected to open the dancing, but she knew he did not care for such frivolities. Charles had once told her, ‘Darcy never lifts a hoof, even though he is most proficient in all aspects of the dance.’ A sigh escaped her as she realised if Darcy did not take her to the floor, she could accept no other man’s offer. It would be an unpardonable breach of protocol. No, she must resign herself to enjoying it vicariously. Slyly glancing over at her escort, she noted that yes, he was still watching her, only now his piercing stare was accompanied by a smile. As the musicians struck the chords for the minuet, he bowed and asked,
“Miss Bennet, may I have the honour of the first dance?”
Elizabeth was taken aback by his offer, and for a moment, words failed her. Her surprise must have registered on her face, and she stumbled over her reply.
“I did not, that is, I did not think that…. yes, I thank you.”
Darcy raised both brows in a questioning pose and then held out his hand. She placed her hand in his, and mutely they walked to the dance floor. Uncomfortably conscious that all eyes were upon them, Elizabeth realised every step, every expression would be scrutinised by the people assembled. With Darcy’s intense dislike for large gatherings, or being the centre of attention, she felt more than a little nervous. The music started, and they performed the customary salute before meeting, circling, and returning several times as the dance dictated. Fellow revellers slowly joined them, and Elizabeth observed Darcy’s shoulders relax, happier to now be one of many. As the dance continued, she realised Charles was right, Darcy was indeed an excellent dancer and conducted the steps with an easy air.
“Sir, you dance with an abundance of style and grace; why do you dislike it so?” she asked playfully.
“You are mistaken, Madam. I do not dislike dancing; I enjoy it a great deal. It is that I find it difficult to secure a partner who meets my standard,” Darcy said honestly. “I recall the first time I saw you dance; it was with the imbecile Collins. He was out of time, and trod on your slipper, dislodging a flower.”
Elizabeth remembered how mortified she had been at Mr Collins’s ineptitude, and that she had to correct him constantly.
“I did not realise you had observed us, sir, or that you had noticed the state of my slippers. I am surprised you would concern yourself with such trifling matters. Do I meet your exacting standards, Mr Darcy?”
As the dance drew them together, Elizabeth caught her breath. Darcy’s gaze seemed more intense than ever, and she felt as though his penetrating stare had somehow pierced her very soul. Taking both her hands, Darcy held them over his heart and replied with quiet, yet devastating passion.
“From our very first meeting, Elizabeth, my eyes have followed only you. There is not one moment when in each other’s company, which I cannot recall the gown you wore, the style of your hair or who your partner was. For every smile, I remember the time and the place. Every word, every glance you have ever bestowed on me, kind or otherwise, they are all indelibly committed to my memory. Not one heartbeat have I forgotten.”
Elizabeth felt spellbound; his words exposed the depth of his love, and they washed over her like an embrace. She had longed for such love, a passion that even after possession, it was not sated. They stood motionless while all around them danced.
“Come, Darcy, you must not monopolise Miss Elizabeth in this fashion. I believe she is promised to me for this dance.”
As the fog of emotion cleared, and reality returned, Darcy became aware that the dance had ended, and the musicians were still. They stood alone on the dance floor, being silently observed by the rest of the guests. Realising it was Bingley who had come to their rescue, Darcy turned and muttered,
“Thank you, Charles, maybe the next one.”
Without words, but still, in possession of her hand, Darcy led Elizabeth from the ballroom and out onto the deserted terrace. The biting December air enveloped them, but neither felt it. Stopping at the veranda's edge, Elizabeth took hold of the stone balustrade. The impact of his words still reverberated around her mind. She had read about such powerful loves, in the books of poets and Master Shakespeare, never dreaming she could be the recipient of such herself. She had always professed this would be the only thing that could induce her to marry, but now that she had found it, she could not, in all honesty, say she returned the sentiment. Oh, she wanted to, so very much she wanted to, but her feelings were unclear even to herself. If she professed to love him and it was false, it would mean heartbreak for them both. No, it was better to stay silent until she was sure. Again, the immenseness of Darcy’s declaration washed over her, the power of his al
l-consuming love saturating every fibre of her being, and she began to tremble. She tightened her grip on the rail lest Darcy mistook her shaking for shivering, but too late. He slipped off his coat and draped it over her, his warm hands lingering on her shoulders. Hesitantly, she covered them with her own, and then leant back on him for support.
“I did not know,” she murmured.
His warm baritone voice whispered close to her ear,
“You did not know what, Elizabeth? How those months apart were torture for me? How I risked my friendship with Charles in order to reunite him with Jane? Or maybe you are referring to Lydia, and the sacrifice I was willing to make to restore her to her family. That I have openly disregarded my family and society, by choosing to marry for love? Tell me that you know how my heart burns with a passion so violent, that you are the very air that I breathe. Surely you must know, Elizabeth; all I have done, I have done for you, only you.”
The anguish in his voice deafened her to propriety, and she turned and sought his lips with her own. She wanted to kiss away all the pain her family had caused him, to thank him for helping Lydia and Jane, and to fill the void of his absent family. And as their lips met, she felt his arms slide around her waist, drawing her still nearer. His acceptance of her imperfect family brought tears to her eyes, and unable to restrain them, they silently slid down her cheeks.
Her kiss was bittersweet in so many ways, Darcy thought, as the salt mingled on their lips. This was not the response he had hoped to provoke with his declaration. The uncertainty of what lies behind her actions was nothing short of agony. He longed for her caresses to be given with love, but suspected they were in gratitude. But for now, he would take whatever she offered. Hopefully, she would come to love him in time, for he could not, would not, live without her by his side.
Elizabeth, unable to hold back the sobs any longer, tore her mouth from his and buried her face in his coat. Darcy comforted her with soft words of reassurance until finally, Elizabeth managed to regain control of her emotions. Then Darcy lifted her chin to look deep into her eyes. Beautiful limpet pools of the darkest brown, still glistening with tears. He un-tucked his neckcloth and used the end to dry her eyes, knowing Fletcher would admonish him for it later. Concerned they had been gone too long already, Darcy tenderly stroked her hair, and then her cheek, before offering his verbal reassurance.
“My love is constant, Elizabeth. I will wait a lifetime if that is what it takes, but for now, I fear we must return. You are promised to Charles for the next dance, are you not?”
Retrieving his coat from her shoulders, he quickly shrugged himself back into it. He had not meant to cause her such distress and was heartily ashamed of himself for revealing the extent of his love in such a way. Sighing, he knew there was little hope their actions had gone unnoticed, but they must return.
Elizabeth was also disinclined to return to the frivolity of the dance. Instead, her mind was focused on easing Darcy’s pain, while trying to sort out her own feelings. The last thing she wanted to do was make merry and engage in meaningless chatter. Darcy’s tender embrace was far more alluring at this moment. Instead, she gave him a weak smile and placed her hand on his arm. Together, they silently turned and walked back inside.
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Darcy to the Rescue
Darcy was waiting on the steps of Netherfield as the carriage rolled to a halt and Charles Bingley jumped out. Having left town before the clock struck eight, Bingley was pleased to finally stretch his legs. They briefly exchanged pleasantries about the weather and Bingley’s journey and then adjourned to the library for a hot toddy. Stevens had left the coffee pot and whisky decanter on the table for the gentlemen to help themselves as instructed. Darcy half filled their cups with coffee and then topped them up with a generous glug of the whisky. Passing one to Bingley he said,
“It’s good to see you, Charles.”
Bingley took a decent swallow of the potent brew before replying,
“Thank you, Darcy. I very nearly didn’t come. My sisters had arranged several outings for us. But your letter was so cryptic, curiosity got the better of me.” He reminded Darcy of the brief contents of the missive.
Charles
Return to Netherfield,
I implore you not to delay.
Come alone.
Darcy
“Yes, I’m sorry about that, Charles, but I know your sister Caroline has a habit of accidentally opening letters that are not addressed to her,” Darcy explained.
“Well, what was so urgent that it demanded my immediate return?”
Darcy knew he must make a clean breast of things regarding his interference between Miss Jane Bennet and Charles, but how? He did not want to upset or alienate his closest friend, but he could hardly stand by his opinion that Jane was unfit to be Charles’s wife when he intended to make Elizabeth his own. Feeling suddenly unprepared to make his confession, Darcy merely leant forward and refilled his glass saying,
“Nothing that won’t keep,” he lied. “I was lonely, that’s all. Perhaps we can talk after lunch?”
Bingley agreed to this plan and then went to wash before the noonday repast was served.
Usually, Elizabeth would have walked to Netherfield, but seeing the state of the paths, she was glad that her mother had insisted she take the carriage. Mrs Bennet had intended to send the footman over with an invitation for Darcy to dine with them, but Elizabeth knew he would most certainly be expected to deliver it on foot. So she was happy to deliver it personally and save the poor man a wretched walk.
She set off straight after luncheon and arrived at Netherfield a little after two. The footman showed her into the day room and then withdrew. She expected her host to arrive momentarily, but after several minutes had elapsed and she was still alone, she decided to look for him herself. The entrance hall was deserted, but she could hear voices coming from the upstairs drawing room. Determined to deliver the invitation in person, she began to climb the stairs. As she neared the top level, the voices seem to get much louder, too loud in fact. Taking care to make no noise herself, she crept closer until she could hear each word that was spoken. The occupants appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion. Although manners dictated she either retreat or make her presence known, Elizabeth did neither.
“You, engaged to Miss Elizabeth? You can’t be. I won’t believe it, Darcy.”
“It’s true, Elizabeth and I are engaged to be married,” Darcy confirmed.
“How can you be when you steered me away from such a union with her sister Jane?” Bingley scoffed. “They have very little money and no worthy connections, you said. Her heart appears untouched where you are concerned Charles, that’s what you said. Do you deny it, Darcy?”
“No, I do not deny it, Charles, but if you pause for just one minute, I will explain,” Darcy said as he tried to reason with his friend.
“Explain? What is there to explain?” Bingley asked raising his voice to an even greater level. “You can marry Miss Elizabeth because that is your desire, yet Jane and I are to remain estranged. You are a two-faced hypocrite, Darcy, and I never thought I would see the day you put your own self-interests above all others. In light of your declaration, I no longer feel bound by your council,” Bingley bellowed and then opened the door to leave.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth was blocking his exit. Unperturbed, he stepped around her with only a slight incline of his head in acknowledgement of her presence.
“Charles, come back and let me explain. There is much more to…” Darcy fell silent the minute he saw Elizabeth. His first thought being, how much did she hear? Her next words told him, everything.
“How could you? Oh, I suspected you did not approve the night of the ball. The look of disdain on your face gave you away. But to stoop so low as to try and separate two people, who are clearly very much in love, well, it
confirms all the defects of your character I previously thought you possessed,” she spluttered, then turned on her heels and sped down the stairs.
Darcy followed her down the stairs pleading,
“Elizabeth, let me explain. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Elizabeth, please, won’t you, at least, hear me out?” he beseeched.
Elizabeth spun around and faced her intended. In her eyes, there was no explanation he could give that would redeem him. She threw her mother’s invitation at him and spat,
“If you have any semblance of a gentleman about you, you will make your excuses.” She hurried through the front door and into her carriage before he could stop her.
Darcy stood open-mouthed. How could so much have gone awry in just a few minutes? Unaccustomed to having people leave when he was mid-way through a sentence, he briefly thought them in the wrong, but only briefly. He realised his actions had been the cause of both Charles’s and Elizabeth’s outrage, and rightly so, from their perspective. But in his heart of hearts, he had only tried to protect his friend from what he thought, at the time, was another fortune-hunting mamma forcing her daughter into a loveless match. These past few days he had seen first hand how Jane pined for Charles, and he now knew he had been mistaken in his opinion of her. He must make amends and today. Yet Darcy doubted he would be welcome at the Bennets now.
Then he saw the crumpled piece of paper Elizabeth had hurled at him and stooped to pick it up.
It read,
Dear Mr Darcy,
Mr Bennet and I would be honoured
if you and Mr Bingley would accept our
heartfelt invitation to come and dine
with us tonight.
Yours,
Fanny Bennet.
Darcy knew instantly that he still intended to go, and if he could talk Bingley ‘round to attending with him, so much the better. Whether he wanted to listen or not, Charles would hear his explanation and then his apology. After that, it was up to him to decide his own future.
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