A Beneficial, If Unwilling, Compromise

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A Beneficial, If Unwilling, Compromise Page 5

by Bronwen Chisholm


  A huff was heard. “A rich, handsome gentleman such as yourself?” Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth to continue, but her husband’s severe gaze quieted her.

  “I suspect,” Mr. Bennet said, “it was your fortune and good standing which caused you to be ill at ease. If your reception in London society was anything like I imagine the one in Hertfordshire to be, I would not fault you for returning to your estate and never leaving it again.”

  Elizabeth ignored her parents and shook her head. “I cannot fathom your words, sir. My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners—my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Yet you declare your affections for me. How could they have come to be?”

  A smile softened his features and his thumb once again caressed her fingers, sending small shivers through her. “I cannot fix the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. As I stated, it was not until this evening that I realized I was not immune to you.”

  Elizabeth felt a warmth cover her cheeks and the corner of her lips twitched. “It must have been my impertinence. No other had ever challenged you in such a manner. You were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking and looking and thinking for your approbation alone. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me.”

  “Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to your sister while she was ill here at Netherfield?”

  Sudden fear seized her. “Jane!”

  CHAPTER seven

  Guilt overtook Elizabeth as she realized they were unaware of dear Jane’s location or condition. Mr. Darcy had sent Mr. Bingley into the gardens in search of her, but had he found her?

  No longer concerned over what was being said of herself, Elizabeth jumped from the settee and hurried toward the door, intent on finding her sister. She felt more than saw the others move to follow her. She was a step away when the door opened revealing a subdued Mr. Bingley.

  “Jane? Have you found her? Is she well?” Elizabeth demanded.

  Mr. Bingley gave a stiff bow before straightening and addressing her parents. “Miss Bennet is upstairs in a guest room. I found her lying on a bench in the garden.” He paused. “She was not herself.”

  Elizabeth looked him over. Something was unquestionably wrong. His appearance at a glance was normal, but closer examination showed wrinkles in his shirt and his cravat was slightly askew. His jacket looked as though he had struggled into it without assistance; the collar was lifted on one side.

  Finally, her gaze found its way to his countenance. Mr. Bingley was known by his smile and open, amiable manner. The face of the man before her more closely resembled Mr. Darcy’s frosty austere glare.

  Silence fell over the group, but Mr. Bingley’s eyes did not move from the Bennets, specifically Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth was so disconcerted by his countenance, she knew not what to say or do until a warm hand touched her shoulder.

  “Elizabeth, I believe it best if you see to your sister.”

  Mr. Darcy’s voice was low and she was uncertain if any other had heard him. As such, she found it difficult to follow his instructions as Mr. Bingley remained in the doorway, blocking her way.

  “Bingley, you appear in need of libation.” Mr. Darcy forced an air of levity into his voice as he reached out and took his friend by the arm.

  In an instant, Mr. Bingley was inside the library and Elizabeth felt a hand on her back gently moving her into the hallway. The door closed behind her and she stood for a moment, uncertain what had occurred. Her curiosity fueled her displeasure at Mr. Darcy for excluding her. She was about to return to the room when she heard voices at the far end of the hallway.

  “I put no faith in such rumours coursing through the ballroom, but we must find Mr. Darcy and have him put a stop to it.” Caroline Bingley’s voice was low, but her displeasure was clearly understood. “Where is my brother? If only he had listened to Mr. Darcy and me when we begged him to return to London.”

  Miss Bingley was not yet in sight so Elizabeth stepped around the corner before she might be seen.

  “Louisa! Stop playing with your bracelets and be of some service.” There was a brief silence before Miss Bingley’s voice rang out again, this time dripping with impatience. “What is it?”

  Elizabeth listened closely, but could only hear a man mumbling followed by the hostess’s irritated response. “Is everyone in this country incompetent? Oh, how I long to return to London and well trained servants.”

  Silence followed and Elizabeth assumed the ladies had moved away from the area. She peeked around the corner and found the corridor empty. Her stay at Netherfield a few weeks earlier had familiarized her with its arrangement, and so she took the back stairs to the next level.

  Most homes had two sets of stairs, the main staircase and one for the servants. Due to a wing expansion done by a previous owner, there were many rooms at Netherfield which were quite a distance from the main stairs. To correct this, a set of back stairs had been installed; less grand, but still more elegant than the servants’. Elizabeth noted a door near the base of the stairs which opened onto a terrace and suspected Mr. Bingley had brought Jane this way to avoid attention.

  She approached the door where her sister had stayed when she was ill and knocked. Though she heard noises at first, the room fell silent. She knocked once more and softly called her sister’s name. Footsteps sounded on the other side and a moment later the door opened to reveal Sara, the maid who helped Elizabeth care for Jane during their time there.

  “Sara, how good it is to see you again. How are your parents?”

  The young girl smiled. “They are well, Miss Lizzy.” She glanced over her shoulder and a look of concern entered her eyes. “Miss Bennet asked me to tell you she will be down in a few minutes.”

  Elizabeth hesitated, certain Jane would not send her away. “Oh.” She forced a smile. “Please tell Jane that I am in the library with Mama and Papa. We are anxious to see that she is feeling better.”

  After another glance over her shoulder, Sara nodded and then closed the door. Elizabeth was stunned once more and felt suddenly unable to move.

  Something untoward had to have occurred in the garden. Neither Mr. Bingley nor Jane were behaving in their accustomed manners. Elizabeth was determined to puzzle it out, but had no information other than her own observations. If anything, her time spent with Mr. Darcy this evening had proven she was not as observant as she had once believed.

  Mr. Darcy. He had sent her to see to Jane while he spoke to Mr. Bingley and her parents. But Jane would not see her. Should she return to the library?

  Music swelled as a new dance began. Which was it? Should they not soon be going in to dinner? Suddenly a cold hand gripped her heart. Her parents were in the library, Jane was indisposed, and she was standing here wondering what to do. Who was watching her younger sisters?

  Fearful of what had occurred in her absence, Elizabeth made her way down the main stairs as quickly as was presentable. Entering the front hallway, she felt eyes upon her and heard whispers. The reason none of them had been in the ballroom pressed in upon her.

  One step inside the room seemed to draw all attention to Elizabeth. Her eyes roamed over the assembled guests until she found Charlotte. Placing a smile she did not feel upon her lips, she nodded to acquaintances as she made her way toward her friend.

  “Eliza! I was beginning to worry.” A light sparkled in Charlotte’s eyes. “Mama has been saying …”

  “I am aware of what your mother has said, Charlotte. We can discuss it tomorrow, but I must beg a favour of you.” Elizabeth grasped the lady’s hand causing her friend to become serious.

  “Of course, Eliza, whatever you ask.”

  A sigh of relief escaped as Elizabeth knew she could trust Charlotte to help her. “Please look after my sisters. My parents, Jane, and I are needed elsewhere at the moment. I fear
…”

  Charlotte smiled as she squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Mary is sitting with your cousin at the far end of the room. I believe they are discussing music or sermons or some such subject. Kitty and Lydia are dancing with the officers, though Kitty seems much more subdued than normal. All is well here.” Her brow rose at this last, as if to ask whether all was well with the remaining Bennets.

  A true smile passed over Elizabeth’s lips for the first time that evening, and she released a relieved breath. “Thank you, Charlotte. You are too good.”

  Miss Lucas linked her arm with her friend’s and turned her away from the dance floor. “Eliza, you look a bit pale. I believe a cup of punch will revive you.”

  Elizabeth began to protest, but a glance about the room told her that, though in general attention had returned to the dancing, heads still turned their direction. She closed her eyes and nodded, allowing Charlotte to guide her out of the room.

  A cup was placed in her hand and she sipped it slowly, remembering Jane on the balcony. A shiver raced through her just before a concerned expression covered Charlotte’s countenance.

  “I begin to truly worry for you, Eliza.” She took a step closer. “Surely you cannot be thinking of refusing Mr. Darcy?”

  A sad half-laugh escaped her lips. “I hardly know what I am thinking.”

  Charlotte frowned as she glanced over her friend’s shoulder. “Gather your wits, Eliza.” A forced smile spread across her lips. “Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst. The ball is resplendent. I am certain it will be discussed for months to come.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lucas.” The hostess turned a cold gaze over Elizabeth. “Are you enjoying the ball, Miss Eliza?” Her voice dripped with venom.

  Somehow Elizabeth managed to lift her head and straighten her shoulders. “Indeed, Miss Bingley. Miss Lucas is correct, tonight will be spoken of for quite some time.” She handed her glass to a passing servant. “If you will excuse me, I would like to speak to Jane.” She curtseyed to the ladies and moved toward the hallway.

  “Miss Eliza.”

  Elizabeth drew a slow deep breath as she waited for Miss Bingley to reach her side.

  “I would also like a word with Miss Bennet. I did not have the opportunity earlier and have not seen her for some time.”

  “Jane had a headache. I believe the punch made it worse. She is lying down at present.”

  “Oh? In the retiring room?”

  Miss Bingley’s gaze scanned Elizabeth’s countenance, surely searching for signs of weakness. Elizabeth was determined to disappoint the lady.

  “No. Mr. Bingley indicated she should return to the room she used while convalescing at Netherfield. He sent Sara to attend her.”

  A dark look overtook Miss Bingley’s features. “Well, that was very accommodating of my brother. I am sorry he did not request my assistance. I would have made certain dear Jane was cared for without the need to go above stairs."

  Elizabeth gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I believe he wished her to be as comfortable as possible. He is so attentive to her.”

  “Yes, indeed he is.” Miss Bingley’s smile became brittle. “Of course he is to return to London in the morning. Business, you understand. Though, knowing Charles, once he is there, he will not likely wish to leave.”

  “You believe your brother so fickle as to forget one location for being in another?” Elizabeth kept her tone light, hoping not to sound confrontational.

  “I know my brother.” Miss Bingley stepped closer. “He loses his heart to every new pretty face and then quite forgets them once they are out of sight. I doubt this will be different.”

  “I suppose we shall see.” Elizabeth attempted to leave, but Miss Bingley’s next words stopped her.

  They were low, bitter, and threatening. “Do not believe rumours in a backwards town will force Mr. Darcy’s hand. He will leave with Charles and never return. No one in London will be the wiser, but all of Meryton will know of your ruin.”

  Before Elizabeth could respond, a warm hand grasped her own. She did not know how he had come to be there, but she was pleased to see him.

  “Miss Bingley.” Mr. Darcy’s voice held a note of warning. “Thank you for entertaining my intended while I saw to business. I would not want the future Mistress of Pemberley to feel abandoned.”

  From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Miss Bingley’s eyes widen and her jaw fall open. She did not have the opportunity to respond, however, as Mr. Darcy had placed her hand upon his arm and was leading her away. He tipped his head toward several individuals as they made their way out of the room.

  “When Miss Bennet entered the library without you, I began to fear you had run away.”

  She looked up at him in time to see the corner of his lips twitch. Though he attempted a joke, she wondered if he had thought her capable of doing such a thing. She smiled to Miss King and a few other ladies who were sitting down, waiting for an offer to dance.

  “Jane had no need for my assistance so I thought to check on my other sisters.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded and said hello to one of the officers as they passed. Finally, they were in the hall, but they could still feel the eyes of those gathered watching them closely. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I apologize for pushing you from the room. I could see my friend was in some distress.”

  “I believe Jane was as well, but she refused to see me,” Elizabeth replied in similar tones.

  Slowly, he guided her down the hall until they were out of sight of the others. “We had best return quickly before things are said that cannot be unheard.”

  Elizabeth’s brow drew together. “I fail to understand you, sir.”

  Mr. Darcy stopped and turned his full gaze upon her. “I am at a loss for what occurred after we left your sister in the garden, but I fear it did not progress in the manner you and I may have expected. Bingley is sullen and glaring at your mother, while Miss Bennet has made every attempt to see to my comfort.”

  Biting her upper lip, Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh dear. Surely she is not still intent on following Mama’s instructions? Does she not understand you and I were found together?”

  His hands grasped her arms, holding her at less than arms’ length. He shook with an intensity she had not seen before. “I have made my decision, Elizabeth. You will be my wife, if I must compromise you by kissing you in the midst of the dance floor. Neither Miss Bennet nor Mrs. Bennet shall change that.”

  Unable to reply, Elizabeth simply nodded.

  A small smile crept across Mr. Darcy’s lips. “Are you accepting me?”

  Her heart beat faster, but her thoughts were divided. Had he used this moment of concern and distress to entrap her? Did she even have a choice? Her brow rose again, as it had earlier. “Accepting you, Mr. Darcy? I have yet to hear you ask anything of me.”

  His eyes closed as he laughed. “Once more you are correct. Well, that is easily remedied.”

  It appeared as though the gentleman might kneel before her, but at that moment the library door opened and Mr. Bingley stormed from the room. Mr. Darcy turned in time to catch his friend’s arm, but Mr. Bingley jerked away from him.

  “I am obviously not wanted, though you are.” He continued on his way.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see to my guests,” Mr. Bingley called bitterly over his shoulder.

  CHAPTER Eight

  Mr. Bennet pinched the bridge of his nose while Mrs. Bennet fretted with the edges of her handkerchief. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, watching those dearest to her with new eyes.

  Her father appeared worn, much like his favourite cloak Mrs. Bennet constantly attempted to relegate to the rag pile; patches were thin, but he insisted it remained serviceable. The world appeared to sit upon his shoulders, which were bowed under the weight.

  His wife, once so vociferous and silly, sported worry lines that seemed to have deepened into premature creases making her look far older than she was. The toll of raising
five headstrong daughters? No, Elizabeth shook her head, that describes only one of us.

  Her gaze drifted across the room to find Jane, her eldest and closest sister, standing by the fireplace. Her back was straight, her head held high, but there was a coldness about her that Elizabeth had never seen before. Her Jane was reserved, not distant.

  “Well, Lizzy.” Jane’s voice held no warmth. “To where have you spirited Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth closed the door before responding. “Mr. Darcy believed it best to speak to Mr. Bingley before rejoining us.” She moved closer to her sister. “Are you feeling better, Jane? I was so worried for you. When you did not allow me to help you, I knew not what to do.”

  Jane’s jaw fell open as she looked at her sister in amazement. “You wished to help me? You pushed me down the garden steps so you could be found with Mr. Darcy. You knew it was Mama’s wish that he and I be found together.” Her eyes narrowed. “You have always been jealous of me, now you take this from me?”

  To say Elizabeth was surprised by her sister’s words was an understatement. She looked to her father who continued to stare at the floor, shaking his head. Her mother, too, was of no assistance.

  “You believe that I am jealous of you? That I was compromised by Mr. Darcy by my own choice?”

  “Is it not obvious? I have always been the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters. Mama has told me all my life that I was destined to capture the grandest of husbands.”

  “This afternoon you told me you were intimidated by Mr. Darcy, that you had no wish to be his wife.” Heat filled Elizabeth’s countenance. Her sister was being ridiculous; she did not recognize her.

  “So, you took that to mean I would run from him?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I attempted to save you from a fate you did not desire. I was trying to follow you into the garden, but Mr. Darcy took my arm. I had no intention of being found with him. You know I have not even liked him.”

 

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