“Yes,” said Anne, “I’m well aware that I’m much too old to be having my first Season. Most would consider me on the shelf. But as I was explaining to Miss Bennet last night, my mother kept me out of society because she was controlling. She had an idea that I would marry Darcy.”
“What?” said Elizabeth, her heart pounding. She sputtered. “That is, I mean, Miss Fairchild didn’t mean to speak of unpleasantness.”
“Well, it is done now,” said Anne. “After Darcy made an awful mess of himself, gambling everything away, my mother changed her tune. She would not allow him to marry me and get his hands on my fortune.”
“And now?” Elizabeth found herself saying, “when you are both free?”
“Oh, Darcy is wretched,” said Anne.
“Yes, he looked sickly to me,” piped up Nancy.
“Quite ill,” said Anne. “Always at the laudanum. Makes him sleepy. He almost never rouses until late in the day.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank. She had put together this whole ruse in order to see Darcy. He wasn’t awake, and she had wasted the trip. Still, she couldn’t very well get up and leave now, so she must find some way to be polite and keep the conversation going.
It was quiet.
Elizabeth wracked her brain, trying to think of something to say, but all she could think of was Darcy and how much she had wanted to see him.
“Well, are you enjoying being out in society?” said Nancy. “I certainly am. I think it’s rather lovely.”
Anne smiled. “Indeed. It has been rather exciting, all the men tripping over themselves to dance with me. I have enjoyed myself.”
“Indeed,” murmured Elizabeth.
“Oh, dear, I am sorry,” said Anne, although her smile deepened. “You must think me quite unfeeling, going on about how sought after I am when you had no success finding a husband yourself, Miss Bennet.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth laughed, “that is all so long ago, I do not care a jot. Tell me about this illness that Darcy has.”
“I don’t know that he has an illness other than an overfondness for laudanum,” said Anne offhandedly.
Elizabeth knew that opiates could cause dependence if overused, and Darcy had been smoking opium on the ship when she knew him. She wondered if he had taken it a bit too far. It wasn’t unheard of. Why, she remembered once chatting with a girl named Miss Dixon, whose governess was snoozing over in a corner, apparently under the influence of laudanum. Miss Dixon said that her governess used it daily and couldn’t seem to stop. And she was hardly the only person in England to have troubles with it. Most people only took a small amount if they sustained some injury, but if the hurt went on a long time, the user might become in danger of becoming dependent.
“Whatever the case, he is usually awful company,” said Anne. “I grow bored of speaking of Darcy. Surely there is some other subject we can turn to?”
Elizabeth turned away, feeling a bit embarrassed at her transparency.
* * *
Jane was pacing looked very, very concerned. “How many days have you gone to call on Miss de Bourgh, dragging Nancy along?”
Elizabeth wouldn’t meet her sister’s gaze. “Not that many.”
“Nancy says that you are obsessed, but that when you get there, you have nothing to say, and Nancy is obliged to carry the conversation.”
Elizabeth hunched in her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller. “I thought Nancy and Miss de Bourgh got on well.”
“Oh, Nancy adores her, but that is not the point.” Jane shook her head. “To be honest, I am completely at a loss. I don’t know what to say. What is going on with you, Lizzy? You are not yourself. It has something to do with that Darcy, does it not? You have not told me everything about him.”
“Oh, Jane, I…” Elizabeth sighed.
“You are trying to see him, I think,” said Jane. “That is why you are going to the house where he is staying?”
“Well, I can’t very well call on a man myself,” said Elizabeth.
“Lizzy!” Jane was shocked. “Why would you even think such a thing?” She sat down and looked earnestly at her sister. “What went on between you in India? Is he an old flame of yours?”
“You know that I have no old flames. No man has ever been interested in me.”
“If he did want to rekindle something, he would call on you. You know that. He must not be interested. I would not see you hurt, that is all.”
“Are you forbidding me from going to see Miss de Bourgh?”
“You know I cannot forbid you anything, Lizzy. I only wish that you would confide in me. We used to tell each other everything.”
Yes, thought Elizabeth. But that was before you got married, and I became a spinster who had once been a wanton woman on a pirate ship. Jane would never understand.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“And where is Miss Fairchild today?” said Anne, sipping at her tea.
“Oh, I had thought it more proper not to come alone, but I have dispensed with all of that,” said Elizabeth. Generally, that wasn’t something she would have said aloud, just as she generally would not have come alone to call on someone. But the truth was, she was a spinster, it hardly mattered what she did, and no one could tell her what to do. She had been coming to call every other day for nearly a fortnight, and yet she always seemed to miss Darcy. Either he wasn’t there, or he was still abed, even late in the afternoon. It wouldn’t have been proper for her to call specifically on him, so she couldn’t do that, but she was getting frustrated, and she found she hardly cared about propriety.
Since seeing him that one night, she found she thought of little else but him. She wanted to look upon him, wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her. She was growing frenzied inside.
Anne looked shocked. “Dispensed with it? What are you saying?”
“I think it might be embarrassing for Miss Fairchild, because she may sense that you are growing rather annoyed by my constant visits. I decided not to subject her to that. I am a spinster. I belong to no one. I shall simply come alone.
Anne choked. “Why, that is ridiculous, Miss Bennet. Of course I am pleased to see you. I so rarely get any other callers, and I welcome anyone who does come by.”
“It’s all right, Miss de Bourgh,” said Elizabeth. “If you are annoyed, you may tell me. In all honesty, I am only coming by so persistently because—”
“Miss Bennet?” said another voice, a male voice.
She looked up to see that Darcy had walked into the room. Her heart stopped. Her lips parted, and she took him in. He still seemed a bit pale and thin, but he looked beautiful just the same, and she wished she could throw herself across the room and into his arms. She didn’t move though. She just gazed at him.
He smiled. “I’m pleased to see you. Miss de Bourgh told me that you visit often, and I’m sorry I haven’t managed to be available to see you before.”
“It’s all right.” Elizabeth was breathless. “I’m pleased to see you as well.”
He sauntered into the room and sat down on a couch opposite her. “Have you been well?”
“I have been…” She laughed a little. “It hardly matters. I feel quite excellent at this very moment.”
“You look well.” He didn’t seem to take his eyes off her. “You are indeed a pleasant addition to my day.”
Anne looked back and forth between them. “Well, I must say that I am glad to see you up and about, Darcy. If I had known mentioning Miss Bennet’s frequent visits would get you out of bed, I might have tried it a week ago.”
Darcy chuckled. “Oh, now, Anne, saying things like that will have Miss Bennet thinking I changed my day just to see her.” He raised his eyebrows at her.
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered. Oh, she wanted him. She wanted him badly.
He leaned forward. “She might think I was especially glad to see her.”
Elizabeth took several small breaths, just gazing at him. She was transfixed.
“Are you not glad?” Anne’s voic
e was sour.
“Indeed, not at all,” said Darcy, still smiling, still staring at Elizabeth. “She hasn’t come to see me, in any case. She’s here to see you.”
Elizabeth imagined tearing off his cravat and opening his shirt, putting her lips to his skin.
“Oh, it is quite obvious that it is me she came to see,” muttered Anne. She turned to Elizabeth. “After all, we always have so much to talk about, don’t we, Miss Bennet?” But there was a hint of irony to her tone.
Elizabeth tore her gaze away from Darcy. “I do apologize, Miss de Bourgh. I know that sometimes I am a bit quiet when I arrive here.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “Oh, no matter. I confess I don’t understand either of you. But by all means, continue with whatever it is you are doing together.”
Darcy turned to her. “My apologies, Anne, have I done something that offends you? I would not want to trespass on your hospitality.”
Anne snorted. “You don’t give a fig about trespassing on anything. But I won’t turn you out, Cousin. You needn’t worry about that.”
“Oh, marvelous,” said Darcy. “I feel quite reassured.” He turned back to Elizabeth, and a slow smile spread over his features again. “Tell me, Miss Bennet, are you happy? When we spoke in the past, I had hoped that you would be.”
She blinked. “I am happy to see you, sir.”
“Ah.” He looked down at his shoes, and his smiled faded.
“I am not unhappy,” she said. “I simply… since seeing you again…” She cleared her throat. “I apologize, I am having such trouble these days. I cannot seem to be proper. I am quite out of sorts, I’m afraid. I should not have said what I said. Of course I am happy, sir. I live a life of privilege compared to so many, and it would be obscene to complain.”
“Oh, to be sure.” He nodded. “We do have charmed lives, don’t you agree, Anne?”
“I suppose,” said Anne, picking up a teacup boredly.
“Many people are much worse off than us,” said Elizabeth. “Especially when you consider the world outside of England.”
Anne sighed. “As you say.”
Elizabeth decided to drop that. What was she going on about, anyway? Seeing Darcy had quite undone her. She did her best to compose herself. “And you, sir? Are you happy?”
Darcy regarded her, scratching his jaw. “Am I happy?” He chuckled again. “You know, let me simply echo you, Miss Bennet. I am quite happy to see you.”
“Do you miss the life you led outside of England?” Elizabeth asked. “Do you wish to change that?”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I tired of that. I would change…” He drew in a long breath, casting his eyes heavenward. “Well, what is the point of hiding it?” He reached into his pocket and took out a small bottle of laudanum. He took a drink of it. “The blasted opium, that’s what I’d change.”
Anne tightened her grip on her teacup. “This conversation is most depressing, don’t you think? Might we talk of something else?”
So, he had formed a dependency. Elizabeth wondered if he was still smoking it as well. She remembered what it had felt like, the sheer joy and perfection of it. She could see why he liked doing it all the time. If given a chance, she would have done it again without a doubt.
“You are right, of course,” said Darcy. “We must not be gloomy. What should we talk of instead?”
“I don’t know,” said Anne. “Only I think it should be something cheerful.”
“Miss Bennet, will you be attending the ball at the Sanderson residence this weekend?” said Darcy.
“I don’t know,” she said. “If you are going to be there, then I should like to, I think.”
“I’ll be there,” said Darcy. “Colonel Fitzwilliam cannot accompany Miss de Bourgh, and I must do the honors.”
“Oh, don’t put yourself out, Darcy,” Anne sighed.
“You do wish to go?” he said.
“Of course,” said Anne. “But you don’t sound very excited, which means our conversation is veering dangerously back into the gloom, and I demand that we only speak of the weather if no one can think of anything else happy to talk of.”
* * *
Bingley speared a piece of meat with his fork. “Well, no we hadn’t intended on going to the Sanderson ball.”
“There have been too many events these past few weeks,” said Jane, taking a sip from her water glass. “We are all exhausted, even Nancy, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I am,” said Nancy. “And anyway, I heard that Mr. Martin was going to be there, and he is pursuing me rather too seriously. I always have to try to be polite to him, but somehow keep from encouraging him overmuch, and I find that tiring. He is supposed to leave to go to the country after this weekend, however, so I thought that I would just wait him out. Once he’s gone, I think everything will be delightful again, don’t you, Mrs. Bingley?”
“Really, Nancy,” said Jane, “you might explain to me why you are objecting so strongly to Mr. Martin. He could do nicely for you, I think. He is rather well off. And he is altogether pleasant on the eyes.”
“Mrs. Bingley, please,” said Nancy. “I have told you before that I am not interested in getting married yet. I think I am too young, and Mr. Bingley agrees with me.”
“I did not say that.” Bingley touched his napkin to his lips. “You are out in society, after all, and by that token, you are old enough to marry.”
“If you put it off too long, you will have no one interested at all,” said Elizabeth. “Look at me.”
“Elizabeth,” said Jane. “Don’t speak that way about yourself.
Elizabeth set down her wine glass, shrugging. “I think I shall go.”
“Go where?” said Bingley.
“To the Sanderson ball,” said Elizabeth. “I’m not the least bit exhausted, and I think it would be an enjoyable evening.”
“You can’t go alone,” said Jane. “What are you thinking?”
“It’s not far,” said Elizabeth. “It’s barely a block from our home. I could walk there.”
“Walk?” said Jane. “Have you lost your mind?”
Bingley had a bite of meat in his mouth, but he had stopped chewing and was looking at her as if Elizabeth had been replaced by something foreign.
“I haven’t lost my mind.” Elizabeth shrugged, cutting her own meat. “I simply don’t want to sit around the house all evening when I could be out doing something.”
Bingley swallowed. “You can’t go alone, Miss Bennet. Please, be reasonable. You do understand that your actions reflect on your entire family, don’t you?”
“Oh, you are being ridiculous. No one pays me a bit of mind,” said Elizabeth. “No one will see me arrive, and no one will notice my presence there. If they do, they will assume I came with someone. I don’t even know why I bothered to tell you. I suppose I simply did not want you to rely on me to entertain the children or Nancy that evening, as I will be out. That is all.”
Bingley’s face was turning red. “You must stop speaking this way at once. If you are so determined to go, I shall speak to the Boswicks next door and see if there is room for you in their carriage.”
“Lizzy, really,” said Jane. “What are you thinking?”
Elizabeth shrugged again. “There’s really no need to put yourself out, Bingley.”
“I’ll speak to the Boswicks,” repeated Bingley.
* * *
And so, Elizabeth went along with the Boswicks to the ball, which was not as she would have liked it, since the Boswicks were the age of her mother and often wanted to leave earlier than she fancied she would like to stay. But she managed to make small talk with Mrs. Boswick about gowns and fabric on the way there. The ride was blessedly short, and once inside, they quickly lost track of each other.
She scanned the first room for Darcy, but she didn’t see him anywhere. The room contained furniture that was all white. White couches, white setees, a white chaise lounge. There were only a few people in there however. A group
of men in one corner, and then a company of mixed gender young people, who were all laughing loudly at some sort of joke.
Elizabeth went into the next room, where a young woman was playing the piano-forte and singing. A group had gathered around to listen, but Darcy wasn’t among them.
She kept going, emerging into the vast ballroom. The musicians were setting up in the far corner, and there were even more people in here. The buzz of conversation was loud. A servant passed her with a tray of drinks.
She snagged one, sipping it nervously as she made her way around the room.
She went from group to group, looking for Darcy.
But he wasn’t anywhere.
She was beginning to get nervous.
He had said he was coming, hadn’t he? He had been definite about it, claiming he had to escort Miss de Bourgh.
She went into the tea room, which was filled with small round tables, but it was mostly empty. Darcy wasn’t there.
Maybe Anne had talked him out of it precisely because she knew that Elizabeth would be there. Possibly Anne didn’t approve of her.
Elizabeth couldn’t blame the woman. After all, she had behaved atrociously thus far, making a pest of herself and calling so often. It was only that she didn’t seem to be able to think straight when it came to Darcy.
She felt as if she had spent the last five years in a dark slumber, and that Darcy had arrived and thrown open the curtains. Now, all she wanted to do was bask in the light of his presence. She couldn’t bear the thought of returning to the darkness.
So, if she embarrassed herself, she didn’t care. If she brought shame to her family, she didn’t care.
She couldn’t think of anything more important than him.
She went back into the ballroom, thinking that perhaps he had arrived while she’d been looking.
But she couldn’t find him.
She passed through the rooms four more times before despairing and taking a seat at an empty table in the tea room. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t believe that she had gone to such lengths for nothing. He wasn’t here. She was so stupid.
She wanted to cry.
Instead, she ate cakes. There were tiny ones made from almonds and coconut that were divine. She must have eaten ten of them.
Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions Page 49
