by Anna Harlow
“Mr. Darcy and I certainly were not doing anything improper, if that is what you think,” said Elizabeth defensively. “We simply both have an enjoyment of walking.”
“Lizzy, why do you persist in this?” Kitty asked. “We both know well enough how you really feel.”
Color heightened Elizabeth’s cheeks. “Kitty, you must understand. Mr. Darcy has given no reason for me to hope that his regard is more than friendly in its nature. I cannot put faith in anything more than that. Only consider that he has, for the last couple of weeks, seemingly danced all his attendance upon Anne. And has it not also been said that the two of them were betrothed at Anne’s birth? What chance have I against a bond that was secured so very long ago? No, I cannot allow myself to entertain any ideas of a future happiness with him. Darcy will never consider making an offer to me.”
“But, Lizzy, Mr. Darcy has insisted that though his aunt may wish it, he has no intention of every offering for his cousin. And Anne herself has expressed that it would be a most unnatural union for her, too.”
“And yet I must remain skeptical that the gentleman would consider me a suitable alternative. With such poor connections, why would he want me? He could select any woman he likes.”
Kitty laughed. “So that is why you have been so attentive to Colonel Fitzwilliam? I thought maybe it was an attempt to force the other gentleman’s hand.”
Before Elizabeth could make any reply to this impertinent—albeit accurate—suggestion, the others had caught up to them at last. Mr. Collins said to the others, “I am amazed that Miss Charlotte has not spoken to either one of you. Go on and tell them your good news, my dear. For such happiness is never meant to be suppressed.”
“Sir, I am certain Percy intends to make the announcement in front of the whole company,” said Charlotte, blushing profusely.
Elizabeth gasped. “Charlotte? Are you now engaged to Mr. Percy?”
“I am,” she said happily. “But it was a secret not meant to be shared. Percy has asked that Mr. Collins perform the ceremony sometime in the fall, after he has formally come to Meryton and spoken with my father. He has even said he will attempt to find a home for us there, since he has a wish to purchase a house of his own. But please, he will not be happy to learn that all of you have been told. Will you not remain silent on the matter until he has spoken of it himself?”
At Anne’s insistence, the dinner was held in a manner less formal than the usual style, more like a picnic than anything, with all the participants able to bring their plates to sit wherever they pleased. It was no great surprise, as Elizabeth was gathering her own meal, that Anne should invite her to be seated with herself and her two cousins. For the sake of avoiding censure, however, Elizabeth settled in a chair near Fitzwilliam, while Anne sat beside Darcy. It earned precisely the smile from her mother she must have been hoping to receive.
“Are you feeling better today, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked her hopefully. “Did you try my little remedy?”
Anne smiled. “He concocted the stuff himself, you know. Even went out walking to find the freshest possible ingredients. Isn’t my cousin the most caring of gentlemen?”
Elizabeth blushed slightly. “I did drink it, sir. And I appreciate the use of the honey, for otherwise it would have been quite bitter. I cannot begin to think what you may have put into such an elixir.”
“And what is your verdict? Did it sooth the raging beast?”
With a soft chuckle, she said, “My headache was gone within an hour, sir. Would that you had arrived sooner than my draught, I would not have spent the day in such misery. I surely would love to have the recipe.”
“It is a family secret,” he said, his smile teasing one from her as well. She became quite aware that although they each were seated by another, that their interactions with each other must surely have become quite noticeable. Worried by this thought, she glanced briefly over at Lady Catherine, and their eyes met. She looked away from the calculated and angry stare, her blush deepening further.
“Mr. Darcy, I believe your aunt is glaring,” she whispered uncomfortably.
“I had noticed it as well,” he agreed. “But it is of little consequence how she feels, I was asking after you.”
Fitzwilliam, who had been somewhat quiet until this point, was quite easily overheard when he said, “So then, Miss Elizabeth, I have known you a full two weeks, and yet I have still heard nothing from you about your family. Can you not give us a tale or two of Longbourn or Meryton to sink our teeth into? What is life like in Hertfordshire?”
Elizabeth grimaced. “What is there to tell? Meryton is but a small merchant village, with a few shops and plenty of farms and houses and estates encircling the area. One of the largest estates there was recently leased by Mr. Bingley, and I would not be greatly surprised if he should not decide to purchase the place outright.”
“He has expressed the notion,” said Mr. Darcy, smiling. “I recently had a letter from him stating such.”
“But what else am I to say?” said Elizabeth, at a loss. “Certainly, there are plenty of stories about growing up in a house with four sisters and the most animated, outspoken mother imaginable. And even my father, though he is generally hiding in his library, had occasion to come out and contribute to an event or two that has happened there. But I cannot think of any that would be particularly exciting enough to share in company.”
“Meryton is not the most delightful place, to be sure,” Darcy added. “It’s nothing to Pemberley or Derbyshire. Yet it does possess a certain charm, the people are lively and kind, and neighbors seem most willing to help one another in any way they can. They look out for one another and are attentive to any number of things that people in London would never even see. I found that although I should certainly not wish to live there myself, that it ought to do quite nicely for my friend Bingley.”
“With Charles ensconced in Meryton himself, and the myriad attractions of such pretty girls residing at Longbourn, I shall not be greatly shocked to find that you visit him at Netherfield as often as may be,” said Fitzwilliam, grinning.
“It may prove a good place to be if I am meant to go to London, but am less than willing to remain in the limits of the city the entire time,” Darcy had to concede. “I am particularly in love with a small garden to be found beside a manmade lake there. The flora and fauna to be found are quite lovely.”
Elizabeth suppressed a giggle at this pronouncement. Must Darcy persist in his teasing? She was finding it difficult enough to maintain her composure as it was, without his needling.
“I am told one never knows what may fall from the sky there,” she said, trying to fluster him as well. “Maybe even angels in need of mastery.”
It was Fitzwilliam who barked out a laugh rather than the gentleman who was her target. Her eyes widened with the realization that only if Darcy had told him that tale would the gentleman have become so amused. She raised one eyebrow at Darcy in question, and he cast her a sly smirk in return, affirming her suspicion.
“Why is it, Miss Elizabeth, that Mr. Darcy seems to have more to say of your home than you do yourself?” asked Anne, smirking as well. “You would think the gentleman had become quite fond of the place, the way he goes on.”
“Of Meryton, I have not come to love or hate the place, it is simply there,” Darcy replied, shrugging. “Of Netherfield, I do find Bingley has stocked it with sensible furnishings and my bedchamber sports a soft and comfortable place to sleep, an adequately sized water closet, and plenty of space for my belongings. It’s grounds also are quite lovely. But as for Longbourn, I have been there but little, certainly not enough to have formed any real opinion of it.”
“And what of the people who therein reside?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Well, I admit, madam, that your mother can be frightening,” Darcy told Elizabeth, grinning.
“Yes, she is most determined to see all her babies firmly settled into comfortable situations,” she agreed. “But I hardly think she
had much occasion to frighten you personally, Mr. Darcy. You were only there for a few weeks.”
“Quite right,” he agreed. “Though if Bingley has his way, I shall certainly have more chances to evade her.”
Elizabeth laughed at this. “Sir, if it is your aim to evade my mother, please take me with you!”
“Perhaps I will,” he said, smiling.
Elizabeth’s mirth was instantly snuffed as she viewed the earnest look in his eyes. Butterflies launched like tiny arrows from an infinite number of little bows. It was a good thing she was seated, such was the weakness in her knees. She could hardly catch her breath, and she forced herself to look away and laugh once again.
“Good,” she managed to say. “We could walk together to an old bridge near the Longbourn property. It must have been there over a century.”
“It does sound quite interesting,” he agreed circumspectly, and then they each fell silent, allowing the others to carry on any further conversation. There was a current of heat passing between them that remained the rest of the evening.
Chapter Seventeen
Elizabeth disliked the notion of concealing one’s affections, and yet she knew that Lady Catherine was not a person to be reasoned with. It was becoming a most uncomfortable situation, in particular once Fitzwilliam came to the realization that he could not discontinue his efforts in convincing his aunt that Elizabeth’s affections were centered on him. He began, by the art of subtle gestures here and there, to flirt with Elizabeth once again.
Darcy’s demeanor toward Elizabeth changed almost violently upon seeing Fitzwilliam capture her hand and draw it up to his lips as he cast her a heated glance. Frowning slightly, he caught Anne’s hand in his to do the same, an action which mortified Elizabeth almost as much as the unwanted attention she had just been paid.
“I fear that my headache may be returning in full force,” she said as she got to her feet. “I believe, Anne, that I must make my excuses. I do not think I could endure so much pain and maintain the decorum your aunt demands from everyone while they are here.”
“Lizzy?” asked Mr. Darcy with grave concern. “Shall I make certain you get back to the cabin? I am sure I could have my own curricle brought around and take you there myself.”
“Your aunt would never allow that, would she?” Elizabeth snapped irritably. “You are meant to remain with Anne. You would not wish to upset Lady Catherine by showing any want of feeling for her daughter.”
“I will not allow you to walk home if your headache has truly returned,” he persisted. “I know how much it troubled you. I shall have the vehicle prepared immediately, and I shall concoct yet another elixir for you while we wait.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth sighed.
When Lady Catherine learned what was going on, she was most displeased. “I cannot see any hint of illness in Miss Bennet,” she complained. “Indeed, all I see is a young woman who hopes to get my poor, unsuspecting nephew alone. Sir, you had much better remain here with Anne.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam protested at this. “Madam, I trust you are aware that Darcy is a perfect gentleman and will conduct himself in a manner befitting his station. Could you really say the same thing of me? For if I were to take the young lady to her door, I could not vouch for my own good behavior.”
Her expression soured at such a question, but she had said nothing more. Elizabeth was grateful enough to be outside that she did not even think of protesting the antics that Fitzwilliam had displayed in order that Mr. Darcy could get her there.
“Did you not find Fitzwilliam’s final statement quite shocking, my dear?” asked Darcy with a frown as he handed her up into the seat before joining her there.
“He may speak as he sees fit, I suppose.” Elizabeth sighed. “Though I do not see why he bothered to say anything at all. For I am not the sort of woman who would pretend to have an illness in such a way. It is most unkind of your aunt to have suggested it, Mr. Darcy.”
He was holding the reins in one hand and now urged the horses forward into a slow trot. With his other hand, he tentatively reached out to touch Elizabeth’s cheek. She blushed as the gesture turned into a caress. Seeming to recall himself, Darcy returned the errant hand to the reins and managed to deliver her to the cabin, even getting out to help her down. Yet, he could not seem to release her hand so she could step inside.
“Why do you allow Fitzwilliam’s attentions, Elizabeth?” he asked in a wretched tone as he brought her knuckles up to his lips. “Every time I see him touch you, it’s—I die just a little more inside. Can you not see it, dearest? I am in agony. In vain have I tried, but my feelings will not be repressed. I love you! Most ardently. In admitting this, I know that I will be going against the wishes of my family, my friends, and even the beliefs I have long held concerning who I should marry, but it cannot be helped. I must set all of it aside and beg you with every ounce of my being to consent to become my wife.”
Elizabeth stared at him in complete shock. Something inside of her sparked with anger at his language, for she had been at first elated by his protests of love, but soon insulted by his insinuations of her unsuitability to himself and others.
“Sir, I understand that in matters such as these the preferred method is to express a sense of obligation and gratitude, but I find that I cannot,” she said as she rubbed at her temples. “I cannot possibly welcome such a declaration from a gentleman who has been dancing attendance all evening on another woman just to placate an overbearing relation. And besides, as you have said, has not Fitzwilliam been doing the same with me? How do you know whether or not there is any attachment there? You presume far too much, I think.”
Darcy scoffed. “Fitzwilliam is married to the army, by his own admission. He will never make any offer to you that would be considered acceptable. His own interests are chief in his heart and he has no desire for domestic felicity. And you do not love him. Not when your eyes turn so often to mine. Why are you saying this to me?”
“I must speak as I find, sir,” she insisted. “Your betrothal to Anne, and your aunt’s insistence that you must marry her, are conditions which abhor me greatly. And I have yet to understand the truth of what transpired between you and Mr. Wickham. How could I ever entertain the notion of domestic felicity with a man who would treat another man so ill?”
“Mr. Wickham?” he repeated, his eyes flashing with a jealous rage at mention of his name. “You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns.”
“Only in how his circumstances must reflect upon you, sir,” she insisted, her tone just as argumentative as his own. “If what he has said of you be true, then you can only be a monster. And I cannot ally myself with such a creature as he describes.”
“Madam, I have already told you that anything Mr. Wickham has said must not be relied upon,” Darcy insisted, and he stepped in, grasping her shoulders to give her a little shake as he said this. “Hear me, Lizzy. He is not fit company for any woman. He is a gambler, and a rakehell, and he has acted in ways which even others of the same ilk must easily abhor. Pray tell, what is it he has said that has left you so cold?”
“Only that he was to receive an inheritance, and a living, from your father that you denied him, forcing him to abandon his desire to join the church and become an officer in the army instead.”
“It is a blatant lie,” Darcy insisted. “I did everything I could to discharge my father’s wishes where that gentleman is concerned. He did not wish to join the church, but professed a desire to study law and was given three thousand pounds instead. It is hardly my fault that he squandered it on vice and stolen virtues within months and came back to me looking for more. But when that entreaty failed—well, I shall not bore you with any details. I believed at that point that all interactions between us had been severed. But there is more to that story which I cannot relate, for it would be breaking a confidence with a person I care for quite deeply. Please, Elizabeth, do not ask me to reveal anything more.”
“Sir, I am
overwrought and my head is aching more than ever,” she admitted then. “I cannot keep a clear thought in it just now. I cannot—I will not continue to have this conversation with you. I must go and lie down immediately.”
Having made this declaration, she then broke into tears and broke free of his grip, which he had clearly forgotten was still placed upon her person. She ran to the door and slammed it behind her, leaning against it lest the gentleman seek her out.
For a long while, she heard no sound, but eventually the horses’ hooves began to clop at a steady pace that carried Darcy away from her. The tears that she had been holding in check now fell freely. With a blind step or two, she managed to find the door to her bedroom, and she fell upon her bed with uncontrolled sobs.
It was then she recalled the elixir she had stuffed within the folds of her skirt, which Darcy had taken care to mix for her before they’d departed from Rosings. She pulled the bottle out and sat up to drink it down, then sobbed even more as she thought about the conversation they’d just had, and what it must mean for her now.
