Yet another person was convinced of a prior engagement. This was another subject Elizabeth desperately wished she could discuss with Darcy. She was not overly concerned there was any truth to the claims. Darcy would never offer for her if his honour were bound elsewhere.
Wickham had quickly proved an unreliable cad, between his attempts at taking liberties—in plain view of her family!—and claiming Darcy cheated him of a valuable living.
Mr. Collins was simply ridiculous, and there was little sense in a single thing he said on any topic. Elizabeth certainly knew how gossip spread, how a determined mother might claim a gentleman for her daughter without that man ever knowing, as her mother claimed Mr. Bingley before even laying eyes on him!
Still, Elizabeth conceded her vanity needed the reassurance of hearing Darcy deny the engagement with Miss de Bourgh. She was his cousin and the heiress to a grand estate—more truly his equal in circumstance and rank. Darcy had said he did not desire those things in a marriage, but it was difficult to believe any attachment he developed in the last six weeks was a fair exchange. Elizabeth did not doubt him, even though society would not understand his attachment. She also wondered how many expected the engagement between Darcy and his cousin, as it seemed Bingley had interrupted Mr. Collins from alluding to it during one of his earlier visits.
At dinner the previous Thursday, Darcy’s eyes scarcely left her. The gaze she once believed was disapproving she quickly discerned was quite the opposite. She could not profess to understand his mind in the least, but the look in his eye had seemed so much more than mere happiness at their betrothal, nor was it simple admiration. It was very similar to his look that evening in the Netherfield library as he stroked her hands. His eyes were so deep she thought she would drown in them, and his gaze made her feel warm, as if marked, branded as his. She could not cease blushing at the thought, but was secretly pleased by his obvious passion. Despite her annoyance at matters at home and the abrupt wedding date, she was endlessly intrigued by the new sensations Fitzwilliam Darcy provoked in her with only a look.
Tomorrow we dance. Elizabeth shivered at the thought, so distracted from her embroidery that she pushed the needle through the fabric vigorously, stabbing her finger. She was forever doing so, and although it did not hurt, she bled easily. She hastily jerked her hand away before soiling the clean cloth. She fumbled to find her handkerchief. She detested the taste of blood, and although it might be natural for others to staunch the flow with their mouth, she preferred to hold her hand tightly until she was able to find a cloth.
By the time one was located, the droplet of blood had grown large and created a smear on the white linen of her handkerchief. She continually soiled handkerchiefs due to needlework injury, thus forever needing to sew new ones, an endless cycle. She laughed to herself. What will William think of me when he sees I spend all my pin money on ready-made handkerchiefs so I can spare my poor, clumsy fingers?
“Lizzzzzzzzzy!!” Lydia’s shrill voice broke her solitude. She exited her room, heaving a sigh, and joined her family below.
*****
“Jane?” Mary’s voice whispered to her sister before bed the night before the ball.
“What is it, Mary? Why are you whispering?” Jane asked, curiosity building within her.
“May I speak with you privately?”
“Of course!” Jane pulled her sister into her room. “Lizzy is still with Papa, but I hope you will not ask me to keep a secret from her.”
“No, of course not. You know I feel it is imprudent and immoral to keep secrets. I fear Lizzy would laugh at my concerns.”
“What troubles you?” The sisters sat on the bed.
“Now that Lizzy and you are to marry rich men, I had thought Mama would leave Mr. Collins be. Instead, she seems to think I should marry him.”
Jane startled. “I had not realised…” She trailed off knowing full well how distracted she had been lately.
Mary twisted her hands in her lap. “She should not fear the hedgerows now. I do not see why she believes any one of us needs to marry him.”
Mary hung her head, and Jane’s heart went out to her. “It could be she thought you liked him. You do seem very suited to a clergyman.”
Mary raised her head and looked Jane in the eye. “Perhaps, but I would want mutual regard to develop on both sides. Mr. Collins does not think of me in that way. He seems repulsed.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Oh, dearest!” Jane pulled Mary into an embrace. “I do not think so. If he came seeking a wife amongst us, it could be that he is embarrassed to find that the first two he paid attention to are now engaged elsewhere.”
Mary thought for a moment. “He is a very proud man. He may no longer wish to align himself with us.” She tilted her head in thought before continuing, “That is not a very admirable trait in a preacher, is it?”
Jane attempted to find a way to put it in the best light. “We must all have our share of weaknesses. It must mean he takes considerable care in his sermons and all that he does, then.”
Mary shook her head. “No, I do not think he does. I think he desires the sort of flattery he uses on his patroness. Well, then, I will not repine failing to gain his notice.”
“I should hope all my sisters marry for love. Now that Lizzy and I have made such wonderful matches, there is no worry for any of you.”
Mary raised her eyebrows. “You think Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will take care of us should our father die prematurely?”
“Of course!” Jane cried, astonished at the idea of anything else.
Mary threw her shoulders back with determination. “Then I will only marry for love.”
“See that you do,” she said as Mary arose.
As her third sister left the room, Elizabeth entered. Jane dared not voice her concerns to her closest sister, but she wondered if Elizabeth felt what she ought for Darcy. She enjoyed Bingley’s touch, craved it even in the days since she had last seen him due to the days of rain, but more than that, she trusted him with her life.
Many thought Jane too kind; she knew even Elizabeth thought such of her. However, she did see her mother was too silly and vulgar. Years of her mother pushing her to suitors with no concern for her feelings and a father who felt more comfortable laughing at his family than correcting it impressed upon Jane that she could not always depend on those she loved.
Bingley was young for a gentleman considering marriage, and although not quite two years past the age of majority, his parents died in his youth. From their private conversations, Jane knew that although Bingley had an easy temper, he took his concerns very seriously. His sisters previously had their uncles as legal guardians, but Bingley had always been very interested in their well-being. Since coming of age, he considered many locations for his estate but made no impulsive decision. When he felt he had insufficient experience and information, he turned to others, like his friend Darcy. His humbleness was to advantage. He never worried about it slighting his character to require assistance. His kindness ensured he would always treat her with respect and consideration and that she could come to him with any request without fear. He did not think so well of his own understanding, either, that he would not accept her opinion.
Thinking the best of everyone came naturally to Jane, but she required no mental rearranging to consider Bingley the best of men, the only one she could love, and the keeper of all her happiness. She could hardly wait to see him again.
* * *
1 Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded is an epistolary novel by Samuel Richardson, published in 1740. A beautiful maidservant named Pamela Andrews deals with the attentions of her new master. Mr. Bountiful is at first enamoured with her looks and then infatuated with her innocence and intelligence. He does not propose marriage to her. Instead, he desires to install her as his mistress. At times, he abducts her and holds her captive in one of his estates, but she manages to escape multiple times. He also attempts to seduce her and rape her. She continually rejects him, but she al
so falls in love with him. Realising the only way to have her is to marry her, Pamela’s virtue is rewarded. It was a best-seller and widely read, but it also received criticism because of the topic.
In fact, Richardson began writing the novel as a conduct book for young ladies. Essentially, women should be meek and virtuous despite the life men lead. Pamela’s stronger character alters the man’s behaviour.
In this story, Darcy disagrees with this philosophy, requests that men are treated the same way, and suspects Elizabeth would agree.
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth dressed with more care than usual in preparation for Bingley’s ball. She had not seen Darcy in four days and anticipated not only dancing and conversing with him but also facing the public acknowledgement of their engagement. She walked into Netherfield’s drawing room, and after greeting her host and hostess, her eyes were immediately drawn to Darcy, standing at the back of the room. He is so handsome.
He was clearly watching the entrance. When he saw her, an expression of heartfelt delight came over him. It made her beam with sheer joy that she was able to bring him such happiness. Instantly, she perceived how he kept a good measure of himself hidden away. It would now and forever fall to her to tease him into better spirits.
Seeing him hold her gaze and approach, her heart began to pound. “Miss Bennet.” He bowed over her gloved hand.
“Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied.
“I am pleased to see you and your family here this evening. You are all well?”
“Yes, I thank you. And you?”
He smiled a little and raised an eyebrow. “Very well. I had begun to think the sun would never shine in Hertfordshire again, but your brilliant smile is more than sufficient replacement.”
She blushed deeply at the compliment. Oh, my. He is charming again. Her brow furrowed.
As though reading her mind, Darcy asked, “May I ask what troubles you?”
She gave him a teasing smile. “I only wondered if you had been to the punch table already, sir. I have only seen you so amiable one other time....”
“Have I not the right to be amiable with such a beautiful partner and on such a happy occasion as the night our betrothal is announced?” He leaned closer to her ear and quietly added, “I hope you understand that I have never over-indulged in such a way before and vow never to again.”
Elizabeth smiled at his words. Perhaps the brandy had given him just enough courage to lose his reserve.
The musicians began to play the opening notes of the first set, and Darcy spoke hastily. “I apologise for my distraction when I called at your house last. I believe I quite forgot to ask to reserve a set with you.”
He looked anxious, although he could not really think Elizabeth’s card was full already. The rain had kept all callers at home, and he had been speaking with her since nearly the moment she arrived.
She sought to put his mind at ease. “Quite understandable, sir. I have reserved space for you on my card.”
He smiled broadly. “And which one am I allowed the pleasure?”
Elizabeth answered eagerly, “Why, the first one of course.”
“Shall we, then?”
He led her to the dance floor, and they took their place in the line. She could not resist teasing him. “Will you not ask which else?”
He seemed startled at first, then smiled again. “I am at your disposal for any set you wish, madam.”
“Since you are proving so charming tonight, I must tell you I gave you the supper set as well, to ensure us some conversation.”
He seemed rather pleased with the arrangement. They had moved down the set in silence for a moment before Elizabeth pressed again, with a wicked gleam.
“And might you desire to know the third set you will have with me?”
For a moment, he seemed quite vexed. No doubt she was pushing him too far, for a man who was not fond of dancing. But soon he smiled and responded with an air of mischievousness, “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”
He lingered over the word pleasure, and although Elizabeth was uncertain why, she blushed, which appeared to give Darcy great satisfaction. Upon recovering her breath, she replied with mock innocence, dropping her voice, “I gave you the last, William, as I can think of no better way to end the evening than with you.”
His nostrils flared, and his eyes grew dark. He glanced around the room, and his eyes found the door to the balcony. Too soon the music signalled the final turn, and the set was over. They held each other’s eyes as he escorted her to her father.
Was he contemplating luring me to the balcony already? Elizabeth mused as they strolled to her father. Would I have gone?
Upon reaching Mr. Bennet, Darcy bowed and offered to fetch some refreshment. She found it curious that by the time he returned, she had nearly her entire card full, to the obvious entertainment of her father and adding to Darcy’s frowning displeasure. For the intervening sets, Darcy persistently stayed in her view.
On the occasions when she glanced at her father, there was invariably some young man in a conference with him. Her betrothed looked excessively disgruntled, but soon his aspect turned to something resembling amusement. The sudden observation of how much Darcy’s manner in company resembled her father’s shocked Elizabeth. She wondered why she had never marked it before. He was not uncivil or truly ungentlemanly, most of the time, but he was not very fond of society. She also noticed Miss Bingley trying to edge nearer to Darcy whenever she was unpartnered, and he steadfastly ignored her hints. As much as she disliked the lady, Elizabeth perceived she would have to remind Darcy of his duty to his hosts. Our union will be to the advantage of both. My ease and liveliness will soften his mind and improve his manners, while his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world will answer all my hopes for a husband of superior understanding.
Elizabeth’s attention could not be held by any of her partners, and it seemed they asked many odd, unconnected questions. Each of them praised the Hertfordshire countryside, eyed her strangely as they opined they knew she loved the Longbourn area, and strongly hoped she would never leave it for long. Elizabeth was unsurprised by this obvious ignorance of her engagement, as only her family were informed due to the recent, persistent rain. Nonetheless, she was astonished that those she had known her whole life thought her local attachment so strong and her so unadventurous. Nothing could be further from the truth. Elizabeth firmly believed a woman could be settled too near her family—hers in particular!—and she longed to travel and experience the beauties of the world if fortune would allow.
At last came the supper set, and as Miss Bingley saw Darcy partner with Elizabeth, she called out “The Town Square” and “Ship’s Cook.” Such lively reels left little opportunity to speak to one’s partner but inspired much gaiety amongst the young people, Kitty and Lydia in particular. Elizabeth had seen them sampling the punch a bit heavily, especially given they had not eaten in many hours. She was mortified that their behaviour now bordered on drunkenness.
Undoubtedly, Miss Bingley enjoyed showing Darcy the downfalls of Elizabeth’s family. Surprisingly, their hostess missed her mark, for Darcy was all smiles during the dances, and Elizabeth had never seen him so lively.
After the invigorating reels, Darcy escorted her to the supper room and set out to make up her plate. It was not too many minutes later when she discovered the most perverse and unwelcome news—she had somehow been seated near her mother! She trembled for what the interval might hold in store as Mrs. Bennet was already holding forth on the virtues of Jane soon being settled in this very house. Soon after Darcy was seated, Mr. Bingley stood to make an announcement.
“My good ladies and gentlemen! I welcome you to my home with my deepest and warmest gratitude for your reception of me and my family and friends into your charming neighbourhood.” He paused and nodded at Sir William Lucas, who stood. “Now I understand there are some very important and happy announcements to be heard! Sir William, I welcome you to begin.�
�
“Capital! Capital! It is with much happiness I announce the betrothal of my eldest daughter, Charlotte, to Mr. Samuel Long.” A general cry of astonishment went up before breaking into applause. Elizabeth stole a look at her friend, who glowed with joy. Elizabeth could scarce believe her eyes or ears.
Well before she was recovered, the elder Mr. Long was making an announcement of his own. “And I am to welcome Mr. John Lucas as nephew, as he has asked for my niece Susanna’s hand!” Another cry of merriment went forward. What was the cause for all this? Had Cupid’s arrows struck all of Hertfordshire so decidedly?
Colonel Forster stood next. “And I am pleased to announce the engagement of a first-rate gentleman, Captain Denny, to the charming and accomplished Miss Mary King.” As Miss King stayed with a spinster aunt, it was understandable that Colonel Forster made the announcement. The news was met with Lydia and Kitty’s cries of disbelief and dismay at Mary King catching Denny. Elizabeth was astonished when her father quietly reprimanded them, but it seemed he did so only to make an announcement himself.
Mr. Bennet stood and declared, “As my own wife marked Mr. Bingley for one of our daughters before we had ever even met the gentleman, it should come as no surprise to hear that he has asked for my Jane’s hand.”
After the necessary shrieking from certain women of the room, most of them his own relations, the assembled party paused and looked at Mr. Bennet curiously when he continued to stand. With a slight tremor in his voice, he next declared, “And I also announce the engagement of my little Lizzy to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Jane, Lizzy, I wish you very happy, my dears.”
The room collectively stared, coloured, and doubted, but everyone soon saw the truth when Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it while looking at her intently with an expression of sincere and devoted admiration. It was Elizabeth’s turn to blush brightly. She heard an audible gasp and sigh from nearly every lady in the room before cheers and congratulations broke out, followed by mortifyingly loud comments by a familiar and familial voice on his ten thousand a year, how everyone knew he could not be so disagreeable, how he had been instantly smitten with “our Lizzy,” and that he had been observed looking at her particularly these many weeks. Unsurprisingly, her mother was profuse in praise of her new favourite.
Compromising Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Anthology Page 35
