Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “I realize you have only just met me, but I can be trusted. And …” She took another deep breath and plunged ahead. “If it is as my father said … well … we must begin somewhere, sir. Must we not?”
The corner of his mouth turned up as he watched her, but the sad smile did not reach his eyes. “Yes, I suppose we must.” He motioned toward a bench set under a spreading tree and they sat. Scanning the area, Darcy organized his thoughts while Elizabeth patiently waited for him to begin. “First, allow me to tell you about myself.”
He explained that he was his parents’ only son and felt a lump form in his throat as he spoke of his mother’s passing, just after his sister’s birth, when he was but twelve years of age. His good father followed her in death shortly after Darcy had reached his majority, leaving him master of their estate and guardian of his sister along with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.
At the mention of two men raising a young girl, a gleam entered Elizabeth’s eye and the corner of her mouth quivered as if she fought the urge to smile.
Shocked by this response he immediately questioned her. “There is something in my tale which amuses you?”
She bit her lip attempting to hide her mischievous smile. “May I ask, sir, how old is your cousin?”
“He is a year my senior.”
“And is he wed?”
“No, he is an officer in His Majesty’s Dragoons.” She nodded her head, but he could see she continued the struggle to withhold her smile. Annoyed, he turned toward her, “I do not understand …”
“Oh, forgive me, sir, I was simply attempting to determine what such young men would know about raising an even younger girl.”
Darcy’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly closed them as he shook his head and chuckled bitterly. “Apparently not as much as was needed.”
Her countenance sobered as she began to suspect the source of his ill temper.
Taking a deep breath, Darcy continued his tale telling how he had hired a companion for his sister and was persuaded to allow them to go to Ramsgate to enjoy some sea bathing for the summer. Once there, the companion had allowed a prior acquaintance of the family access to his sister. Between the two, they were able to convince the inexperienced young girl that she was in love. “Assuring her that I would be pleased with the surprise, they also convinced her to elope with him.”
Elizabeth had been listening intently, her jaw slowly dropping until her mouth formed a small “o”. Darcy had kept his eyes trained on a distant spot in order to tell his tale without allowing emotions to overcome him, but felt the need to know her reaction before continuing. Upon seeing her expression, he made a slight attempt to hide his amusement but quickly relented as the corner of his mouth curled. It was Elizabeth’s turn to be shocked by his reaction. “Please forgive me, but the expression on your face …” Darcy chuckled softly.
Elizabeth looked away to compose herself, but as she turned back to him, he noted the corner of her mouth once again twitched with amusement though her eyes remained cast down. “Forgive me, sir.” She lifted her eyes, opened wide in anticipation, and begged, “But your sister? What happened to her?”
Darcy sobered quickly. “I arrived as a surprise. Georgiana confessed all to me, and I was able to expose his true intent which was her dowry.” He sighed and returned his gaze to the distant tree line.
“The trial I mentioned is my sister’s current state of mind. She was always shy, but now she believes that both women and men are only interested in her for her place in society, connections, and dowry.”
Elizabeth frowned and shook her head.
“This leads me to the explanation of my actions last evening.”
“I understand why you would not wish to dance, sir. Your mind is heavily burdened.”
“No,” he turned back to her, “you misunderstand me. When I found you in distress, my only thought was of my sister and how, as with Ramsgate, my first desire, instinct if you will, was to remove her from the source of her distress.”
She met his intense gaze. “And so you did.”
He nodded sadly. Reluctantly he pulled his eyes from her, returning them to the horizon, as he swallowed over the lump which had taken up permanent residence in his throat. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the open acceptance in her fine eyes, and felt he could easily have been lost in them if he had not looked away when he did.
Her voice was thick as she softly said, “I have not yet thanked you properly for your assistance last evening.”
Darcy began to shake his head.
“Please, sir, I was beside myself. I know not where I was going or what might have happened if you had not been there.”
“I am certain all would have been well.” He blushed and turned further from her. “Perhaps better than had I interfered.”
She bit her lower lip, not certain how to respond.
Suddenly, he felt the need for motion and stood before her. Bowing, he smiled, “Come, let us not speak more of it. It is a beautiful day and you have not yet shown me the garden.” He offered his arm as she rose and she accepted without hesitation.
They stood for a moment, each silently trying to read the other’s expression until she nervously glanced about and asked, “What could have become of Mr. Bingley and Jane?”
Darcy patted her hand which rested so perfectly on his arm and chuckled. “I suppose we should go in search of them.”
They found the couple wandering about, arm in arm with heads nearly touching, oblivious to their surroundings. Darcy was familiar with his friend’s propensity to fall in love easily, and did not wish for anything untoward to occur. He would not want Miss Bennet’s expectations raised if his friend were not truly committed to her, and he had yet to see his friend truly committed to any woman. “Here you are!” he exclaimed.
At the sound of Darcy’s voice, Jane and Mr. Bingley jumped apart to an appropriate distance. “Lizzy, we were just wondering what had become of you.”
Elizabeth chuckled, “We have been sitting on a bench in the garden, Jane. You were the ones who wandered.” She smiled lovingly at her sister, thinking Mr. Bingley may be the one to finally win Jane’s heart.
It was quickly decided the couples should return inside and call for tea. The younger Bennet sisters had deserted the parlour and the foursome had an enjoyable time until the visit ended. After seeing the gentlemen out, Elizabeth and Jane returned to the parlour to discuss the surprising visit.
“Mr. Bingley is just what a young man ought to be,” Jane said, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners; so much ease, with such perfect good breeding.”
“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete. Well, I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”
“Dear Lizzy!”
“Oh, you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.”
“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think.”
“I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others. Affectation of candour is common enough, one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design, to take the good of everybody’s character and make it still better and say nothing of the bad, belongs to you alone.”
Jane waived her sister’s comments away, a smile upon her lips. “But what think you of Mr. Darcy?” She listened intently as Elizabeth told her of the very great responsibilities forced upon him at such a young age. “That could cause anyone to be quiet and reticent as Mr. Darcy appears to be,” Jane said thoughtfully.
Elizabeth nodded. “I must admit, he did not seem so arrogant and proud today as he did last eve
ning.”
A noise drew their attention and they looked up to see their father in the doorway. “So, Lizzy, Mr. Darcy improves in the light of day?”
Elizabeth blushed, but admitted he had.
“I have it on the best authority Mr. Darcy does not perform for others, nor is he comfortable in crowds.”
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “But he is so confident.”
Mr. Bennet smiled knowingly. “He is not the only one who can appear confident while hiding insecurities.” Turning to allow her time to consider his words, he asked Jane about Mr. Bingley. He was not surprised when she returned to being cautious in her praise of the gentleman, as she did not wish to secure his teasing attention.
“Very well,” he stood and smiled. “Jane, will you excuse Lizzy for a few minutes?”
Jane nodded and exchanged a glance with her sister who stood and followed their father to his study. He held the door for her and motioned to a spot on the loveseat. “How are you, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet his as she spoke. “I am well,” she said clearly, with more conviction than she felt.
He studied her a moment longer before giving a quick nod. “I asked the constable to come take your statement. I expected him today, but he has been called away and sent word he will be here in the morning.” He watched as she looked down at her hands folded in her lap and nodded. “I will remain with you while he speaks to you.”
She looked up, a weak smile on her lips. “Thank you.”
He held her gaze another minute before he told her she could go. She pressed a light kiss on his cheek as she passed him before heading to her room.
Elizabeth entered her bedroom and closed the door quietly behind her. Leaning against the door, she looked about. She wasn’t certain what she sought, until her eyes fell upon an old rag doll her grandmother had given her when she was just a babe. Calmly, she crossed the room and picked it up. Hugging it to her chest, she continued to the window seat and sat. Looking out across the fields, she rocked the doll and let the tears slide silently down her cheeks.
***********
The next morning Elizabeth sat in her father’s study, nervously tugging the threads at the corner of her handkerchief, as she watched the older man across from her. She had known Mr. Saunders most of her life and always thought him to be a fair and caring man. The suspicious look he now wore seemed so out of place as she explained again why she was unable to identify her attacker.
“It was dark and he stood in the shadows. I smelled spirits and heard his voice just before he grabbed my shoulder. As I pulled away, my gown tore and I ran,” she finished quickly as she felt her emotions threatening to overtake her.
The constable, who had already heard of Miss Elizabeth’s hasty exit accompanied only by Mr. Darcy on the night of the assembly, clearly doubted the story she told him. With the rumours circulating in Meryton, he suspected she had created the tale of an attacker to escape her ruination. “You left the assembly alone?”
Elizabeth heard the skepticism in his voice and realized he did not believe her account. Sighing, she repeated her earlier statement. “I desired fresh air. It was very warm in the assembly hall.” Her colour rose as this was not the reason for her egression, but she would not speak of her embarrassment to this man, not the way he was behaving.
He nodded slowly as he reviewed his notes, acting as though he had not perceived her sudden discomfort. “You walked away from the hall. Did you have an assignation?” he asked as he raised his eyes to hers.
Mr. Bennet jumped from his seat.
“Saunders, you will show my daughter respect! You have known her since she was a small child. Do you believe Lizzy capable of such a thing?”
“Bennet, I must ask these questions. There is talk in Meryton that Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were seen in each other’s arms.”
Elizabeth could hear the anger and distress in her own voice as she spoke. “As I have explained, Mr. Saunders, I ran from my attacker and collided with Mr. Darcy. I had no idea that he would be there. I was not meeting anyone.” She took a deep, calming breath. Realizing she must tell the truth, she continued in a softer tone. “While in the assembly hall, Mr. Darcy had made a comment within my hearing which upset me. I left the assembly to regain my composure.” Her lip turned up in a sarcastic sneer, “I am certain the backbiters of Meryton will be able to confirm that for you as well.”
“I believe we are finished.” Mr. Bennet said as he laid a reassuring hand on his daughter’s shoulder before turning to Mr. Saunders and motioning toward the door. “I will see you out.”
Mr. Saunders glanced between the father and daughter before he slowly stood and followed his host into the hall. Mr. Bennet walked silently to the front door, closing it soundly behind the man before quickly returning to Elizabeth.
As the constable reached his horse, he saw Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley approaching and nodded to them, a smirk settling on his lips.
Darcy was not certain who the man was, but took immediate offense to his expression. As he dismounted, he met the man with his most withering Master of Pemberley glare and was surprised when it had little effect. The man mounted his horse and rode away, while Darcy and Bingley entered Longbourn.
Mrs. Hill accepted their coats and hats, passing them to a footman as she had the previous day, but paused before leading them toward the parlour. Hesitantly, she addressed him. “Mr. Darcy, sir, Miss Elizabeth is with her father in his study this morning.”
Darcy’s earlier agitation increased as he thought of the encounter when he arrived. “I wish to join them.”
He turned to his companion. “Bingley, would you mind waiting here until Mrs. Hill returns?”
Bingley quickly agreed, though it was clear he, too, wished to know what was occurring.
Darcy followed the housekeeper down the hall toward the study. As they approached, he became aware of Mr. Bennet speaking words of comfort and the sound of weeping. Brushing past the housekeeper before she could announce him, he entered the study and crossed to them. “My God, what has happened?” He longed to reach out to Elizabeth but instead stood, clenching and releasing his fists at his sides, feeling utterly useless.
“The constable has just left after taking Elizabeth’s statement regarding the attack.” Mr. Bennet met his gaze, his expression telling the rest of the story.
Cursing under his breath, Darcy stalked from the room. He passed his curious friend without speaking, exited through the front door, called for his horse which he mounted swiftly, and turned toward Meryton. He quickly overtook the constable whose eyes sparked with amusement at the sight of the gentleman bearing down upon him.
In an imperial voice, Darcy stated, “Sir, we have not been properly introduced. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. I believe you have just spoken with Miss Elizabeth Bennet regarding the incident which occurred outside the Meryton assembly.”
Mr. Saunders bowed his head in acknowledgement of the introduction, and responded with a smirk. “Edgar Saunders, constable for this region. Yes, I have just come from Longbourn, as you know.”
Realizing he appeared as a crazed suitor, Darcy reigned in his anger and looked condescendingly at the man. “May I ask, sir, how long you have known the Bennets and Miss Elizabeth?”
The older gentleman fidgeted slightly in his saddle at the direction the conversation had taken. “Mr. Bennet and I grew up together. I have known Miss Elizabeth most of her life.”
“And yet you doubt her word? Mr. Bingley was witness to Miss Elizabeth’s distress as were several coachmen who heard her scream and saw her running toward me. If we had arranged to meet, she would not have been in such a state.”
Mr. Saunders’ cheeks reddened at the rebuke. “I will speak to the individuals you have mentioned, sir. You have my word I will investigate thoroughly.”
Darcy nodded once and turned his mount toward Longbourn without further discussion. A stable lad ran out to take his horse as he approached th
e front of the manor. He quickly dismounted, tossed the reins to the boy, and entered the house without knocking. Walking determinedly down the hall to the study, he paused to compose himself before he knocked and opened the door.
Elizabeth was clearly calmer when he entered. Her eyes were flashing as she stood to meet him and asked, “What have you done?”
After Darcy recited the conversation he had with the constable, Elizabeth looked at him in amazement while a grin slowly stole across Mr. Bennet’s face. Mr. Darcy was quickly proving himself to be the white knight Mr. Bennet suspected him to be. He only hoped Elizabeth saw him the same way.
“Lizzy, why do you not go and refresh yourself?” She appeared about to reply, but he caught her eye and motioned his head toward the door. Sighing, she curtseyed to Mr. Darcy and left the room.
Darcy moved toward the door in order to await her return in the parlour, but Mr. Bennet stopped him. “Do not rush off, young man.”
He eyed Mr. Bennet with some concern, realizing he had overstepped propriety in speaking to the constable. It was not his place to defend Elizabeth; he was no relation to the Bennets. Wondering if the older gentleman would call him on it, he squared his shoulders and waited.
“How was your visit with my daughter yesterday?” Mr. Bennet asked as his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Surprised by the question, Darcy simply responded he thought the visit had gone well.
“I fear I had to expose one of your secrets to Elizabeth.” Darcy’s brow furrowed with concern and Mr. Bennet quickly continued, “I told her you are not comfortable in crowds.”
Finally relaxing, Darcy smiled. “It is something I probably should have confessed myself.”
Mr. Bennet waived his hand in the air. “No matter, she is aware.” He motioned toward the door. “Shall we?”
Darcy nodded and followed Mr. Bennet down the hall to the parlour. He was becoming accustomed to the gentleman’s ways and found he quite enjoyed his company. Perhaps a union with this family could result in a better match than I anticipated. They did not move in the same circles, but he was learning this was due to Mr. Bennet’s dislike of the London ton, which Darcy understood. Miss Elizabeth appeared to be a well-educated and caring individual. He hoped her outgoing nature and playfulness, which he had witnessed the day before, might bring his sister back to her former self.
The Ball At Meryton: A Pride and Prejudice Alternative Novella by Bronwen Chisholm Page 3
