A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation)

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A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) Page 2

by Abigail Reynolds


  She had not reckoned with Miss Darcy’s determination; she somehow convinced Mr. Bingley to allow her to accompany him on his visit to Longbourn the next day. Though Elizabeth tried to encourage her to talk to Mary or Kitty as being closer to her own age and also not as likely to incur the discomfort of her brother should their names ever be mentioned, Miss Darcy seemed to lapse into being tongue-tied and shy whenever she was not speaking directly to Elizabeth. After Mr. Bingley made a reference to her habitual timidity, Elizabeth began to wonder with some amusement what odd fate had given her this strange ability to attract members of the Darcy family. Although she found Georgiana’s company to be pleasant, she was not sad that their acquaintance would have to terminate immediately upon Jane’s marriage, given the pain which would inevitably follow any closer association between them.

  The day of the wedding came quickly. The wedding ceremony was both solemn and joyful; Jane was as beautiful as a bride could be, and Bingley could not stop smiling. Elizabeth, standing at the front of the church, felt all happiness on her sister’s behalf, and reflected that here was one good thing which had come out of that dreadful day at Hunsford: Jane and Bingley, together as they should be. She thought with appreciation of Darcy, who had triumphed over himself sufficiently to give them this opportunity, and she felt proud of him.

  Elizabeth followed the new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley down the aisle after the ceremony, her hand on Mr. Ansfield’s arm. With a contagious smile, he said to her playfully, “I hope Bingley appreciates it that I made it through without disgracing myself.”

  “You did beautifully,” she replied with a happy laugh, placing her free hand lightly on his arm for a moment. “I am certain that Mr. Bingley was quite pleased; that is, if he was able to notice anything at all beyond my sister!”

  They were almost to the doors of the church when she let her gaze move over the assembled guests, stopping abruptly with shock when it came to a pair of dark eyes which she would never forget. The look in them was one she had never seen before, though - one of cold distaste which seemed to cut straight through her. All her happiness in the day seemed to vanish as though it had never been, and was replaced by a wrenching pain.

  She forced herself to look away, although some part of her wanted to fix her eyes on him forever. Relying on Mr. Ansfield to guide her outside, she somehow managed to carry on, greeting guests, kissing Jane, and embracing Bingley, but all the while her thoughts were on Darcy. She had imagined meeting him again so many times; she had imagined being faced with pain and even anger, but she had never thought she would see loathing in his eyes, and the thought of it cut her like a knife. She could not say that she did not deserve it, but it pained her.

  She was unusually quiet on the carriage ride to Netherfield, but fortunately this passed notice as her mother reviewed the triumphs of the wedding in detail. Elizabeth could not help thinking on the power of her reaction to seeing Darcy once more, and in so unexpected a manner. The wedding breakfast was likely to be a trial; she could not decide whether she more hoped for the chance to speak to him or dreaded it. Regardless of his behaviour, she was determined to meet him with the utmost civility as befitted a man of honour and sense whom she had wronged. Perhaps then she would at least have the comfort of knowing that he would no longer believe she thought badly of him.

  On their arrival, Elizabeth found Jane surrounded by a cluster of well-wishers. Bingley was off to one side, talking urgently to the butler about some matter. She did not wish under the circumstances to stand by herself, so she sought out a friendly face. Spotting Mr. Ansfield across the room, she was about to move in his direction when Miss Darcy appeared by her side.

  “Miss Bennet!” cried the girl. “You shall never guess - my brother has come, after all. He was planning to return to London directly after the ceremony, but I begged him to stay for the breakfast, as did Mr. Bingley, and he finally agreed.”

  “You must be very pleased to see him,” Elizabeth responded, her own heart too heavy for good cheer.

  “I am - and you must come say hello to him; he knows so few people here, and you know, I am sure, how shy he is of making new acquaintances.”

  Elizabeth could scarcely refuse this request, but she was taken aback by Miss Darcy’s words. Shy? It was not a concept she had ever thought to apply to Darcy of all people, yet it made many things plain to her, from why he had refused to dance with her at the assembly to the silences she had interpreted as pride. With some anxiety, she followed the girl across the room, thinking it might be as well to accomplish this first meeting, no matter how it should go.

  “Fitzwilliam, you remember Miss Bennet, do you not? She has told me of making your acquaintance here,” said Georgiana with determined cheerfulness. She had no intention of allowing this opportunity to pass by, whether for good or ill, and it was her last chance to discover what lay between her brother and Miss Bennet.

  Elizabeth felt almost helplessly drawn to look at him. He was a little thinner than she had recalled, but otherwise appeared much the same. The hostility she had perceived in the church seemed to be gone, or at least well-disguised; he now appeared only impenetrably grave.

  He did not seem much at ease, but he made her his compliments with civility, enquiring after those members of her family he had not yet had the pleasure to see that day. She hardly knew how to reply, whether to respond to the alteration in his civility since they had last met, or to the severity of his countenance. She temporized briefly with a few words on the subject of the wedding, then said, “I had been given to understand that you were not expected here today, sir. I know it must be a great pleasure to Mr. Bingley and my sister that you were able to be in attendance.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Miss Bennet,” he said with more than a touch of irony in his voice.

  Elizabeth’s smile faltered for a moment at the implication, but she was determined to be civil no matter what provocation she was offered. “Your sister tells me that business has been keeping you in Town, Mr. Darcy. Is it very quiet there at this season?”

  “It is quiet enough; I am not there for my entertainment,” he said coolly. He wondered how she would react if he said that he was in London because he could not face going to Pemberley without her, at least not once Bingley had decided to return to Netherfield instead of taking up his invitation to visit Derbyshire. But there was no point in even wondering what she would think; he had seen how the very sight of him wiped the smile from her face in the church, and he knew that she would not be speaking with him now had Georgiana not forced them into this position. What ill fortune that of all the people in Hertfordshire, Georgiana should choose to attach herself to her! She was looking at him playfully, and he could see he was to fall victim to some of the teasing that had so enchanted him. He steeled himself to bear it.

  “It was quite a surprise when Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield in the spring, Mr. Darcy. You were very sly; you did not mention a word of it when you were in Kent,” she said.

  Touché, Miss Bennet, he thought. With the faintest of smiles, he said aloud, “I was not aware of it at the time. As you know, Mr. Bingley is a creature of impulse at times, so it did not come as a surprise to me when he decided to return. I understand as well that the regiment has left Meryton.” He was not averse to handing back her challenge.

  She coloured slightly. “I am relieved to say that is accurate, sir,” she said, “although unfortunately not all of my family is in agreement with my views on the matter.”

  So she did believe what I told her in my letter; that is something, at least, he thought. It was good to know he had been acquitted of cruelty in that regard, at least. He tried to think of a response, but there seemed to be an embargo on every subject. Before the silence could become too awkward, however, Elizabeth excused herself, claiming she was needed by her mother. He bowed silently, a familiar feeling of emptiness settling back on his heart as he watched her walk away.

  “Miss Bennet is very charming,” said Georgiana with det
ermined good cheer. “I like her very much.”

  Darcy’s face twisted in an ironic half-smile. “Yes, she is charming,” he said shortly. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to listen to Georgiana singing Elizabeth’s praises. His eyes followed her as she proceeded from her mother to Bingley’s best man, the one she had been laughing with so happily at the church. He wondered if another wedding was in the offing, and he tried to tear his gaze from her without success.

  The meal was announced, and he offered his arm to Georgiana, who was looking oddly disappointed for some reason. In the dining room he was displeased to see that he was not seated with her, but a quick check of those who would be near her revealed no cause for concern, and he was, after all, a last-minute addition to the event. He could not help himself; as soon as Georgiana was seated, he began to scan the crowd for a sight of Elizabeth. She was not, as he had expected, with the wedding party; rather, she was seated slightly off to one side among people he did not know, her head slightly bowed in an uncharacteristic manner.

  He walked around the table, looking for a card with his name. He experienced a sense of foreboding as he neared the place where Elizabeth sat, and was somehow unsurprised to discover that some mischievous fate had placed him beside her. He took a deep breath before seating himself.

  Elizabeth, who had been awaiting his appearance, looked over at him. “We meet again, Mr. Darcy,” she said, with a smile which would have been impish had she been more in spirits.

  “So we do, Miss Bennet,” he said evenly, thinking this was to be a very long meal indeed. To make matters worse, they were seated among a sea of Bingley’s relatives who were unknown to him, making the prospect of other conversation poor as well. He smiled grimly, recalling dancing with her at the Netherfield ball and her challenge to him to converse with her. Well, he would show her that he had attended to her reproofs, no matter how painful it might be. “You seem to have made quite an impression on my sister,” he said.

  “It was unintentionally done,” confessed Elizabeth, who had been wondering how to explain this very thing. “Miss Bingley introduced us, and I imagine she was feeling lonely.” Realizing that this might sound like a criticism of his choice not to accompany Georgiana, she added quickly, “She is quite delightful, I must say. You must be very proud of her.”

  “Thank you,” he said gravely. “I was surprised she wished to travel so far to attend Mr. Bingley’s wedding, but she was quite insistent, even though there would be few people of her acquaintance here. She has, of course, known Mr. Bingley for a great many years, and looks to him almost as to another brother.”

  “I can sympathize with her; there are a great many more strangers here than I would have anticipated, but I gather Mr. Bingley has a very wide acquaintance.”

  “You seem to know his groomsman quite well.” He had not meant his words to sound quite as accusing as they did, although it had been in his mind ever since he saw her walking down the aisle laughing with the man who had taken the place he had refused in the wedding. He had been indulging in the guilty pleasure of watching her during the wedding, storing up memories, and the sight of her clear enjoyment of another man’s company had brought out an uncontrollable surge of bitterly painful jealousy. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to snatch her away at that moment.

  She gave him a puzzled look. “Not well; we only met a few days ago. He is very amusing - he is to be married himself soon, and is already full of bridegroom’s anxieties.”

  He felt a greater relief at her words than he would have thought possible. What does it matter whether she looks at another man or not? he chided himself. She has made clear she wants nothing to do with you - what difference does it make who she chooses in your place? Despite his efforts, though, he knew it did make a difference; it was hard enough knowing she would never be his, but the idea of her with another man was completely intolerable. I should not have come, he thought, not for the first time that day.

  All subjects of conversation seemed to fail them at this point, and apart from the occasional half-hearted effort on each of their parts to comment on the food or the occasion, they remained mostly in a silence which grew increasingly painful to Elizabeth. She could not stop wondering what he was thinking of her; his countenance seemed to suggest that he was far from pleased with the current situation. She could not say why it was that she suddenly wished so fiercely to see the sort of smile she had sometimes seen on his face when he had looked at her in the past, or some sign of the man who had ended his letter with, “I will only add, God bless you.”

  She looked for comfort over towards Jane, and saw her blushing becomingly, her eyes cast down, as a smiling Bingley murmured something in her ear. The sense of pleasure she felt in this sight was tempered by the unexpected realization that she could no longer imagine herself ever being in Jane’s place; at some point, having refused Mr. Darcy had transformed in her mind to a knowledge that she would not marry anyone else. A deep sense of loneliness filled her, and she looked down abruptly, wondering when it had happened that she had bound herself to him in such a manner. In the cold silence of the man at her side she heard an echo from the past: I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself....My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. Little had she realized when she teased him that day how painfully this very characteristic would come to play against her.

  It was more than she could bear. Fearing that her composure was at risk, Elizabeth hurriedly excused herself and slipped from the room. She sought out a back sitting room where she would be likely to be undisturbed, and took advantage of the quiet to try to calm her nerves. It is not as serious as all that, she lectured herself. After all, nothing has actually changed; you are no worse off than you were last night. So you no longer have his good opinion - this cannot be of importance, given that you will be unlikely to see much of him in the future. She would have to confide in Jane, she decided; if Jane knew the circumstances, she would help her avoid Mr. Darcy’s company when he might visit Mr. Bingley. She could only wish that she found these plans to be reassuring instead of acutely painful.

  She did not wish to face him again, and had the event been any other than Jane’s wedding, nothing would have kept her from walking home to Longbourn at that moment, but she would do nothing to detract from Jane’s memories of her special day. She decided simply to remain where she was until she was calm enough to face him once more. No one would trouble her there, and she could just curl up in the window seat and look outside.

  She sat there for a brief period of time until she was startled by a noise from behind her. Embarrassed, she jumped to her feet from her inelegant position only to see Mr. Darcy standing just inside the doorway, his cheeks as flushed as hers.

  “Pardon me, Miss Bennet,” he said in a voice gentler than she had heard from him that day. “I did not wish to disturb you, only to tell you that I have decided to depart immediately, so you may return to the dining room whenever you wish. My regrets; it was never my intention to trouble you in any way.” He bowed slightly, clearly preparing to leave.

  “No, wait, please, Mr. Darcy,” she said quickly. “Please do not leave on my account; I know how important your presence here today is to Mr. Bingley, whereas he may see me whenever he chooses. I will manage.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot allow that. I would not wish to make you uncomfortable, and I am the unexpected guest.” His eyes were fixed upon her.

  “Please, Mr. Darcy,” she said in a low voice. “I will be far more uncomfortable if you leave early.”

  He looked at her, indecision clear in his expression. “If that is what you truly wish...”

  “It is,” she replied, aching from the tension in the air between them.

  He did not look happy. “Well, then, I will leave when the other guests begin to depart, if that is agreeable to you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I shall trouble you no lo
nger, then. Please allow me to apologize for disturbing you on a day which should have been joyful.” He hesitated a moment before turning to depart.

  Elizabeth felt a tight pain in her throat. “Only if you will accept my apologies as well for the untrue and unkind things I have said to you,” she said.

  Darcy was torn between a desire to leave and a wish to remain with her. “Miss Bennet, you are very kind, but I have long since acknowledged that the fault that evening was mine. It is not an occasion I look back upon with pride.”

  She had known that he must have regretted his choice to propose to her, but it was bitter to hear it so directly all the same; and she had trapped herself into a conversation which could have no happy resolution. She could think of nothing at all to say, and closed her eyes as she felt tears beginning to prick at them. “It is nothing, sir; please forget that I said anything,” she said, and was horrified to hear her voice trembling. The pain in her chest only grew worse, and, realizing she could no longer control herself, she chose the incivility of turning her back on him over the humiliation of allowing him to see her cry. She could only hope that he would take her hint and leave her.

 

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