Darcy's Passions

by Regina Jeffers

  The Bingley household gathered in the drawing room. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst observed their game. As was his earlier intention, seated at the desk in the room, Darcy wrote his sister. Miss Bingley, finding nothing of her own for amusement, scrutinized his progress. Eventually, Elizabeth joined the group, taking up her needlework.

  14 November

  My darling sister,

  I am happy my letters are of such an entertaining nature.This was not my intent, but I feel no offense in your finding them to be so. Our party at Netherfield Park increased by two of late. Bingley and I returned to Netherfield on the tenth after spending an invigorating evening with Colonel Forster and some of his senior officers to find Miss Jane Bennet took ill during her dinner with Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Rather than sending her back to her home at the Longbourn estate in a consistent downpour, the Bingleys provided Miss Bennet accommodations at Netherfield. Miss Bennet is a favorite with Charles.A pretty face, which Miss Bennet does possess, often smites him; reputably she is the prettiest girl in the area. Bingley was secretly delighted at having Jane Bennet ill while at Netherfield, while also being extremely concerned about her health. He even considered sending to London for a physician.

  Miss Bingley, my dear, wishes me to interrupt my letter at this point to tell how enraptured she is with your design for the table you decorated recently. Truthfully, not wishing to take away from Caroline’s raptures, lately I find her placating compliments for everything relating to the Darcys and to Pemberley as being a reflection of her character. If not for Charles, I would disassociate myself from her.

  The other member of our party is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who has been asked to stay and attend her sister. Actually, I suggested this to Bingley. His having shown Miss Bennet to be his local “choice,” it would not be proper for her to stay at Netherfield without a “chaperone.” Propriety must be maintained.This is the same Miss Elizabeth of whom I spoke previously.

  Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley are both of a playful nature, and I, unfortunately, became the target of a recent rebuke. Bingley when speaking to Miss Elizabeth earlier in the day confided his tendency toward indecision.Then he insinuated his abstract handwriting to be a result of his thoughts coming too quickly for his hand to translate them properly. Miss Elizabeth found his humility endearing. I should have resisted the impulse to respond to Charles’s rants and ravings, but I do so detest deceitful appearances. Of course, poor Bingley is too good of a friend; he often absorbs my criticisms and still considers me to be his partisan. Unfortunately, I listed in some detail a litany of Bingley’s flaws, including his lack of attention to detail in his muddled script. I find Bingley’s inconstancy to be troublesome where Miss Elizabeth believed in general and ordinary cases between friends, where one of them desired the other to change, the person would comply with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it. Her wit turned my argument in Bingley’s favor.This is not the first time Miss Elizabeth and I verbally opposed each other.Although you probably think I find this to be offensive, I do not. It is such a contrast to Miss Bingley’s fawning over my every move I admit I sometimes try to purposely engage Elizabeth Bennet’s attention.The only thing I regret in the exchange is an offhand remark by Bingley about my “dark” nature. He insinuated I could be an imposing figure, especially of a Sunday evening when I have nothing to do.The gravity of his statement was an indignity I did not expect from my friend.

  As far as my objecting to your giving needlework or other such items to the poor in Derbyshire, you will hear no such complaint. Giving to the poor has always been something our family embraced. Our parents are warmly remembered for such generosity. How could I object to your following their example?You are your mother’s daughter; she would be as proud of her daughter as I am of my sister.

  Your loving brother,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  As the evening progressed, Darcy, having finished his letter, wanted to relieve the earlier memories of the day. He applied to both Miss Bingley and to Miss Elizabeth for some musical entertainment. Jumping, literally, at the opportunity to do something to achieve Mr. Darcy’s favor, Miss Bingley was beside the pianoforte before she realized her duties as the hostess. “Miss Elizabeth,” she said through gritted teeth,“would you favor us by going first?”

  “Please precede, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth responded sweetly, “your skill should take precedence to my pleasure.”

  Mrs. Hurst joined her sister as they took up several Italian love songs to demonstrate their expertise. Elizabeth moved to the instrument to peruse some music books found there. Enthralled with her earlier performance, Elizabeth’s deferment to Miss Bingley initially disappointed Darcy. Still, being given the comparable pleasure of watching her figure from afar was nearly as intoxicating. He mentally created a list of her mannerisms—the biting of her lower lip when concentrating on her needlework, the creased forehead when she challenged him, and the curl, which often fell, along her chin line in a caress of her neck. Fitzwilliam Darcy saw little about Elizabeth Bennet, which did not fascinate him. Before he realized what he did, Darcy moved up to stand beside her at the instrument. He felt the air intensify around him. Miss Bingley, not wishing to have Darcy standing beside Elizabeth while listening to Italian love songs, varied the charm by now playing a lively Scottish air. In almost a hypnotic trance, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and said, “Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?”

  As soon as he said it, annoyance filled him. He wanted desperately to say something, which would engage Elizabeth and would make her see him in a positive light. Instead, she could easily think Darcy laughed at her social origins.Those of refined and exacting taste did, after all, not prefer reels. Darcy did not mean it to be so, but Elizabeth could interpret his words as such.

  She smiled, but made no answer. Her silence surprised him, and instantaneously, Darcy wanted to retract his words, but they were out there; he could not change them now so he repeated the question.

  “Never fear, Mr. Darcy, I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kinds of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare.”

  Darcy could not disengage his mind from thoughts of Elizabeth. She was resplendent! That was all he could think. “Despise you? Indeed I do not dare. No, Madam, I could never have such an opinion of you, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, before bowing to her as he took his leave of the room; feeling her eyes piercing his back, he took refuge in the study. Pouring an abundant brandy, Darcy collapsed into a nearby chair.As he ran his fingers through his hair, he realized no woman ever affected him in such a way—he felt bewitched by her. Were it not for the inferiority of her connections, Darcy could easily imagine himself in some danger of falling in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  Dinnertime found changes in the spherical makeup of the party at Netherfield; Miss Jane Bennet made an appearance in the drawing room upon the meal’s completion. Darcy offered his congratulations regarding her recovery and watched his close friend stoking the fire to warm the room and to attend to Miss Bennet’s every need.

  Darcy found a chair where he could observe Elizabeth, who obviously delighted in the attention being given to her sister by the master of the house. Having no wish to play cards, he chose to read, with Miss Bingley following suit. Of course, Miss Bingley held no real interest in books; her pretense was for Darcy’s sake, remembering his words: All this she must possess, and to all this she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading. In reality, Miss Bingley’s attention strayed to watching Mr. Darcy’s every move; she planned to interfere if he showed attention to Miss Elizabeth. She so desired for him to pay att
ention to her alone she tormented him with questions on what he read and what it meant; however, her design for his consideration remained fruitless. Darcy steadfastly continued to read his book choice. Quite exhausted by her efforts, she tossed her chosen book aside. Finally, Miss Bingley resorted to the one area in which she felt she excelled over Elizabeth Bennet—physical beauty, and she took the chance of being noticed by walking about the room. Darcy, upon whom she directed her attention, remained content to read, never even raising an eyebrow or looking her way. Desperation set in so Caroline turned to Elizabeth to say,“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

  Miss Bingley succeeded in one area: she received Darcy’s attention; he looked up, surprised to see Elizabeth consent to such a devious plan.Why Caroline chose to invite Elizabeth to join her peaked his curiosity; Elizabeth, too, seemed wary of the invitation.Without knowledge of his actions, Darcy unconsciously closed his book. “Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley nearly purred.

  “I will decline your kind offer, Madam. I assume you have but two motives for choosing to walk up and down the room together, and I would interfere with either of them.”

  “What could he mean, Miss Eliza?” Miss Bingley queried, never able to decipher Mr. Darcy’s double-meaning barbs.

  Elizabeth, on the other hand, heard that tone before; she remained determined not to let Mr. Darcy win; she would match him wit for wit. Darcy recognized the resolve of her shoulders, the half-stifled grin playing about her lips, and the arching of an eyebrow. All these things sent sensations down his body; every nerve pulsed. Pausing briefly to make her point, Elizabeth turned slightly toward Darcy. It was all he could do not to walk over and take her in his arms. She taunted,“Depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”

  Very good. It was exactly the kind of repartee he came to expect from Elizabeth Bennet.

  Caroline Bingley would do nothing that might upset Mr. Darcy so she made it a point to ask, “Mr. Darcy, whatever can you mean by such a remark? You must explain as we are very anxious to know its meaning.”

  Darcy played with his response. “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them.You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.” At this point he left a pregnant pause to increase the drama of the situation. “If the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”

  Take that, Elizabeth Bennet; the thought briefly slid across his mind. His eyes met Elizabeth’s, burrowing deep into the green pools and locking in a secret desire. Maintaining his gaze, Darcy heard Miss Bingley’s stunned response, “Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

  Darcy waited with anticipation for Elizabeth’s response. “Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.” He never expected she would dare to laugh at him.As much as he hoped to maintain her gaze, Darcy experienced a momentary glint of uncertainty and dropped his eyes, breaking the bond.

  Naturally, Miss Bingley could never speak ill of Darcy; she desired his good opinion too much to defy him on any subject. Elizabeth, carried away with the mirth of the situation, could not allow her love of nonsense to wane. “Mr. Darcy does nothing which might amuse his friends? I would not require many such friends for I dearly love a laugh.”

  Not able to abandon the serious armor, which served him well in the past, Darcy assumed an air of superiority as he said, “Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be.The wisest and best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

  Without thinking of its effect, Elizabeth, amused by her own cleverness, replied, “Certainly, there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”

  Having spent his life hating any form of weakness, Darcy’s affectionate gaze took on a steeled impalement; nearly biting the words, he said, “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid such weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

  “What sort of weaknesses, Mr. Darcy? Would, say, vanity or possibly pride be such a weakness?” she retorted.

  Swallowing hard, Darcy steadied himself before giving a response. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”

  Elizabeth’s suppression of a smile surprised Darcy. He found nothing amusing in what he said; he meant his response to be a serious, diplomatic answer. He began to think she went too far. Amusing repartee was one thing, but he would not be her target, no matter what attraction he felt for this insipid miss. Miss Bingley regretted the beginning of this folly and begged an end to it. Elizabeth feigned innocence and coquettishly played down her affront. “I agree with you, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy has no faults; perfection is within his reach.”

  “No,” Darcy snapped. “I have made no such pretension,” he stammered. Elizabeth, obviously, knew nothing of superior society. “I have faults enough,” he continued, “but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”

  Earlier Elizabeth defended Bingley’s appearing to be humbled, but she now attacked him! Darcy came to the speedy conclusion she knew nothing about him and cared not to recognize his worth. He misjudged Elizabeth Bennet’s excellence! His full being pulled back from the woman to whom he gave his attention of late.“Your faults, as you define them, Mr. Darcy, are not open to scorn; possibly they are a bit too dark in nature, but they are not failings. I will not laugh at you, Mr. Darcy; you have nothing to fear from me.”

  She gave him a slight curtsy and started to turn away. Wait this is not finished! Before Elizabeth could take an exit step, he froze her in place by coldly saying, “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

  “And your defect is to hate everybody.”

  “And yours, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.” For a moment they held each other’s application; then, Darcy nodded his head to allow Elizabeth to return to her sister. His emotional turmoil became difficult to conceal from the rest of the room. He discovered paying so much attention to Elizabeth Bennet dangerous.

  Darcy fortified his resolve to banish his blossoming feelings for Elizabeth. She had been at Netherfield for only a few days, and he neared an obsession with her. Elizabeth appeared in his thoughts throughout the day and danced in his dreams at night. Today he would take no notice of her. He would not allow her hopes to develop, especially if his previous actions suggested his regard for her.What he did her last days at Netherfield would give weight in confirming or crushing those hopes. To that resolution, Darcy applied every fiber of his being as he entered the morning room. There he found Mr. Bingley trying desperately to persuade Miss Bennet she was not well enough to return to Longbourn so soon. Caroline Bingley made the obligatory civilities encouraged by her brother without much enthusiasm, fully realizing while Jane Bennet remained at Netherfield so would her sister Elizabeth. D
arcy watched the scene between Bingley and Jane Bennet with a detached air, hiding his intense interest. He hoped Elizabeth would leave before long, and he could return to a more sensible existence. “Then it is settled; you may not consider leaving before tomorrow,” Bingley half pleaded.

  Miss Bennet nodded her agreement before abandoning the seat by the fire and returning to her room. Finally, he thought; an end to his upheaval was in sight. A little more than a day would put distance between him and his preoccupation with Elizabeth Bennet. He would steady himself, avoid contact with Elizabeth, and not engage in any unnecessary conversation. If he could confine himself to places of solitude, the hours would pass quicker. The woman frustrated Darcy beyond words. He never met a woman who so befuddled his mind. How many times over the past few weeks had he thought about Elizabeth Bennet? Almost from the moment he rejected the opportunity to escort her onto the assembly hall dance floor, her “fine eyes” mesmerized him; yet, he knew the inferiority of her connections would never be accepted by his family or his social circle. Darcy would become a mockery, a figure of ridicule if he chose Elizabeth Bennet. He could not let that happen to Georgiana, to his family name, or to the expectations for Pemberley. Fitzwilliam Darcy knew his duty to the Darcy name; his fascination with Elizabeth Bennet had to end today!

  He found it relatively easy to escape close association with Elizabeth by taking a long, physically demanding ride on Cerberus. By the time he returned and properly presented himself to the rest of the party, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst applied to him to join them for some shooting. As much as Darcy dearly loved the sport, his ride depleted his energy so he kindly begged off. The ladies took the carriage into Meryton to make some social calls. Elizabeth attended her sister, which meant Darcy could eschew all the trappings society would demand if everyone was together. He found a book in the Netherfield library in which he could, at least, pretend some interest if someone found him there. Settling back into the chair, he nearly fell asleep; his mind, despite his determination to evade thoughts of Elizabeth, clearly pictured her now in this pre-dream state. Her smile was there, and it was a smile directed toward him, the illusion so real he could not help but to utter her name aloud,“Elizabeth.”