Falling for Mr. Darcy

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  “Mr. Darcy, sir, your approval of my choice is most gratifying, as I know it indicates that Lady Catherine de Bourgh also would approve. As it is my most fervent wish that her ladyship find my wife suitable, I find your words to be most satisfying, indeed — most satisfying.”

  “Mr. Collins, sir, I can assure you my aunt will approve of your choice. The lady in question will be most honored by your attentions, and she is reverential enough to see her good fortune in receiving such addresses, especially from someone who has been as fortunate as yourself to have the patronage of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” Mr. Darcy paused to allow his words to take effect on their recipient.

  “Indeed, sir! She is quite perfect; I do not think there is another who would suit as well as she.”

  “Well, then,” Mr. Darcy leaned in conspiratorially to Mr. Collins, and in low tones delivered the final piece of his plan. “Mr. Collins, sir, in that case, may I wish you every happiness and success in securing the hand of your lovely cousin — Miss Mary Bennet!” He gave the man a roguish smile and turned to walk away.

  Mr. Collins stood stunned. Mary Bennet? He was sure they had been talking of the beautiful Miss Elizabeth, not plain Mary. Mr. Collins hastened to stay Mr. Darcy’s retreat and placed a hand on the man’s arm. “Mr. Darcy, sir, forgive me but you meant to say Miss Elizabeth, did you not?”

  Mr. Darcy had anticipated this reaction, and he gave a jovial laugh. “Mr. Collins! I had not known you were such a wit. Miss Elizabeth, indeed!” He laughed as he shook his head and again turned to leave.

  Once again Mr. Collin’s hand reached out for his arm. “Mr. Darcy, sir, I beg. I believe you misunderstand me. I thought we were talking of my choice being Miss Elizabeth.” His worried voice was exactly what Mr. Darcy had hoped for.

  Schooling his features into a serious glare, Mr. Darcy looked down into the face of the nervous clergyman. “Collins, certainly you cannot be serious. Miss Elizabeth? I may have to take back my calculation of your intelligence, for you must see she would not do — would not do at all.”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “Mr. Collins, please feel free to be frank with me. Are you not happy in your position under my aunt’s patronage?”

  “Oh, no, sir. That is, yes, I am very happy. It is a great honor and privilege, and I value it above everything else in this world. If I have displeased you, sir, I sincerely apologize and ask that you forgive me.”

  “Surely you can see, sir, that making Miss Elizabeth your wife will make her ladyship, my Aunt Catherine, severely displeased. She is outspoken and lively. Such a person would not be humbled by the condescension of my aunt, and her liveliness would be detrimental to the health of my cousin Anne.” He shook his head as if in disbelief at the man.

  “Indeed, sir, I can see that you are right.” Mr. Collins fixed his gaze at the lady in question just as she laughed at something her dancing partner said. Looking back at his companion, he meekly enquired, “Sir, you said that you presumed my choice was Miss Mary, correct?”

  “Yes, for I had presumed you preferred her. She is well read on all things moral and is just the sort of wife my aunt would have chosen for you had you asked her to pick.”

  Mr. Collins sought out his cousin Mary and finally found her demurely sitting near the side of the ballroom. She was quite plain, and he frowned a little as he resigned himself to her. He wished her figure were more like the pleasing one of her sister. However, as he contemplated the great service Mr. Darcy did in saving him from a most imprudent marriage to his other cousin, he began to see the change as being quite fortunate.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are quite right. I believe, now, that Miss Elizabeth would be totally unsuitable to hold the position of a parson’s wife. I am indebted to you for saving me from a most imprudent choice as she would most assuredly have accepted my desirable offer, and then I would have displeased Lady Catherine —something I assure you I do not want to do. Miss Mary is the right one for me; now that I speak of it, I can see it most clearly. In fact, I believe myself to be falling quite violently in love with her already. If you will excuse me, sir?” With that, Mr. Collins bowed, turned towards Mary’s position in the room, and took the seat next to her.

  Mr. Darcy bowed and nodded his good-byes to the man and, with a self-satisfied smile on his face, headed to the refreshment table for a much needed glass of wine before the next dance, his much anticipated dance with Elizabeth.

  Chapter 5

  Elizabeth was standing talking with Jane when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy approached for the supper set. At his near proximity, Elizabeth found it was more difficult than she had hoped to maintain her resolve to be merely friendly and not let him see her feelings. When he stepped up to greet her, his lemony cologne washed over her, and she was shocked into the memory of his strong arms and broad chest pressed against her when he had embraced her after her fall.

  Mr. Darcy was delighted finally to reach the part of the evening where he could command Miss Elizabeth’s full attention and looked forward to the half hour with great anticipation. The slight blush that overtook her cheeks upon his approach sent his thoughts flying, and he was more eager than ever to have the opportunity to dance with her.

  “Miss Elizabeth, I believe this is our dance.” He held out his hand to her.

  “You are correct, sir. Shall we?” She placed her hand in his and avoided his gaze as it caused a most disturbing feeling inside her.

  Mr. Darcy smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he guided her to the dance floor to join the set beside Mr. Bingley and Jane. The music began, and with great ease, they began their movements. After several minutes of companionable silence, Elizabeth decided that being left to her own thoughts was not helping her keep her reserve, especially when Mr. Darcy’s hand captured and released hers, or when his hand occasionally rested on the small of her back as he guided her through the turns of the dance. She determined some conversation would help distract her from the sensations coursing through her body and so thus began.

  “Mr. Darcy, I believe we must have some conversation.”

  She looked at him with that arch smile he loved so much, and he smiled charmingly. “Do you speak during a dance as a rule then, Miss Bennet?”

  His smile caught her off guard, and she laughed nervously and said, when they next came together, “Not as a rule, sir, but I find that a little conversation makes a dance more pleasant. But this will suffice for now.”

  As they separated in a turn and came together again, Mr. Darcy had thought of something to say. “Well, Miss Bennet, if we are to have some conversation, may I say that you look very well tonight — quite handsome, indeed.”

  He smiled as a blush spread across her face and down her neck and shoulders. Oh, Elizabeth! You are so beautiful! He tore his eyes away to continue down the set. When they next came together, he saw her eyebrow raise and her mouth twitch in that becoming way he knew indicated she was about to tease him; he happily readied himself for it.

  “Well, since you kept your dance with me, I can assume, then, that I am handsome enough to tempt you.” Her eyebrow arched, waiting for his response.

  Oh, yes, very tempting indeed . . . oh, wait . . . For a moment, Mr. Darcy’s mind froze — something about the wording she used. With shocked disbelief, he realized why those words seemed familiar, and the smile on his face instantly dropped. They were the ill-chosen words he had used at the Meryton assembly when he was trying to discourage Bingley from forcing him to dance. He had barely looked at her then — glanced in her direction for only a second really — and spouted out those horrible words without thought. She heard me! With mortification, he considered how his proud words could have sounded to her. It is a wonder she will even speak to me!

  Elizabeth had only wanted to tease him, and seeing that her words were beginning to distress him, she hastened to relieve his worry. “Mr. Darcy . . . ”

  “Miss Bennet, please allow me to apologize for my terribly hurtful wo
rds that night. I had no right to say such things; it was very ungentlemanly of me.”

  The dance separated them for a moment, but upon coming together again, Elizabeth gave his hand a gentle squeeze and said, “Mr. Darcy, you are quite forgiven. I did not mean to distress you just now; I was only teasing. You see, it has been some time now since I have found the situation to be quite humorous.”

  “Eliz — Miss Elizabeth.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed again to have slipped in his address towards her. “I do not deserve your forgiveness, but as you have given it, please allow me to also clarify to you my opinion on the matter.”

  She nodded her assent as the dance moved them apart again. The next movement brought them together with her left hand in his and his right hand on the small of her back as he walked her up the set.

  Leaning slightly towards her and speaking in a low voice, he said, “Miss Elizabeth, on this you may be certain: it has been many weeks now that I have considered you one of the most beautiful women of my acquaintance.” He punctuated his statement by tracing small circles with his thumb in the small of her back before they separated again.

  Elizabeth’s heart was racing from the sensations of his touch and from the stunning words he spoke in her ear. Her courage could only allow her to incline her head to his and smile slightly at his words. For the remainder of the dance, they moved in silence, caught in their own thoughts.

  At the conclusion, Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth to the dining room, secured a seat for her next to his, and left to fill their plates. Elizabeth was pleased with her dance with Mr. Darcy. He was an elegant dancer, and it was her most pleasurable dance of the evening thus far. She smiled at the thought that they still had another dance left and that it would be the last set of the evening. She blushed as she remembered his compliment, and storing away for future indulgence the memory of his voice near her ear and the feel of it tickling the curls near her temple, she attempted to compose herself for his return.

  She decided that, when he returned, she would attempt to get answers to some of the questions she had about him and his family. She did not know him very well and the only way she would learn more was to ask. It was her hope that, the more she knew of him, the better she would understand his behavior.

  The supper hour was spent in pleasant conversation. She asked about his parents, his childhood and his hobbies. She was envious of him when he spoke so reverentially of his parents. It was evident that they must have loved each other deeply, and it no longer surprised her that he was such a passionate man, having grown up in that environment. She could barely keep from laughing as he related childhood exploits at his home in Derbyshire. She had never thought the serious Mr. Darcy could be so foolish and silly as a child. She asked about his sister and found it was a topic of great feeling for him. He loved his sister very much, and she understood from his answers to her inquiries that his sister was a sensitive, shy girl. She admired his great concern over her welfare and happiness.

  “I have always wished to have a brother, and I can see that you are an excellent brother to Miss Darcy. She is very lucky to have you.”

  Her words touched him, and he was finding that the bewitching Elizabeth had even more goodness and tenderness than he already thought. He liked that she asked him about his family, and it confirmed her interest in him. He was not usually one to open up to anyone, but he found himself easily conversing and sharing with Elizabeth.

  He asked about her life and found an answer to one of his unexpressed questions. She spoke of a beloved aunt and uncle in London who would invite her and Jane to their house for the summers until they had their own children. Since she spent a great deal of her childhood at her aunt’s house, he speculated this could be the reason she and Jane were different in temperament from the rest of their family. He could see the tenderness in her eyes as she described this aunt as almost a second mother.

  They conversed easily for most of the meal until, at one point, Mr. Darcy’s chair was bumped rudely as Lydia and Kitty came skipping by, chased by a couple of officers, causing him to spill a bit of his wine on the tablecloth. She noticed his serious, disapproving face appear immediately, and she apologized for her sisters. Although he smiled at her and nodded his acceptance, he turned and began to focus on his neglected dinner with more effort.

  Elizabeth also turned to her meal and, no longer distracted by her conversation with Mr. Darcy, began to realize that her family members were taking turns displaying gross impropriety. To her mortification, her ears now detected a part of her mother’s conversation to Lady Lucas several chairs down.

  Mrs. Bennet was speaking overly loud and leaning towards her neighbor as she discussed the great benefits the family would have when the much-anticipated and expected marriage between her eldest daughter and the rich Mr. Bingley occurred. Elizabeth dared a glance at Mr. Darcy and closed her eyes in horror as she confirmed he, too, could hear her mother. “And of course once Jane is married, she will be able to throw the other girls in the path of rich men!”

  Elizabeth reached for her glass of wine and bit her lip as her shaky hand took the stem of the glass and brought it to her lips. She took an overly long drink and held her glass to her mouth for a moment as she contemplated that their lovely supper was turning into a complete disaster. She scanned the room for Jane and was relieved to see that she and Mr. Bingley, at least, were not witnessing the atrocities of their family. She hoped that Mr. Bingley would not be inclined to forgo his suit with Jane after tonight. Jane was too good and deserved happiness with Mr. Bingley.

  Mr. Darcy was indignant with disgust at the lack of decorum displayed by Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters. It was like a cold splash of water to the face — a harsh reminder of the folly with which he was playing. He glanced at Elizabeth and noticed the trembling of her hand as she tried to appear poised while taking a drink of wine. He felt for her, and her embarrassment only served to further raise his anger towards her family. He loved her. He knew that for sure now; odd that seeing the mortifying behaviors of her family would drive it home for him. But the realization only served to bring him a shock of pain. He wanted to rescue her from the indignities of her family. However, their actions were so deplorable that he did not know whether he could make them his family.

  Lydia and her sister had found their seats a few chairs down from Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. She was talking animatedly to Mr. Denny and Mr. Saundersen from the militia when a part of her conversation intruded into Mr. Darcy’s warring thoughts and caused him to startle.

  “It is too bad our charming friend Mr. Wickham could not join us tonight. He is ever so handsome, and I am sure he would have been a pleasant dancer.”

  “Aye. He said he had sudden business in London, though I cannot think what it could be. He planned to come to the ball until he knew who was hosting it, and then business took him away,” Mr. Saundersen added, barely hiding his relief that the gentleman had not come and stolen the attention of the girls as he seemed always to do.

  Mr. Darcy listened until their conversation changed topics and he was left to his own thoughts. Could it be the same Wickham? The idea that Wickham might be in the area distressed him. He concluded from the conversation that this Wickham had joined the militia a week earlier and that both of the youngest Miss Bennets knew him. The memory of the previous summer returned and angered him as he recalled that sister was only a shadow of her former self because of that man.

  Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Darcy, please do not let my family’s behavior anger you. If I could . . . ” Her voice fell away to a whisper.

  The agony in Elizabeth’s voice brought Darcy to the present, and he was filled with a sudden concern for her. He turned his head and looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were lowered to her hands resting in her lap, and her lip was trembling slightly. He was not sure he could ignore the behavior of her family, but at the moment, he had a more pressing concern in mind.

  “Miss Bennet, are you acquainted with a Mr.
Wickham?”

  His abrupt change of topic surprised and saddened her. So he is too offended by my family to allow for my apologies. She raised her shoulders in an attempt to appear less affected than she felt. “I do not know a Mr. Wickham myself, sir, but my younger sisters have recently made an acquaintance by that name in the militia in Meryton.”

  “Do you know whether his name is George Wickham?”

  “I cannot be certain as I do not always listen to the babbling of my sisters, but I do believe it might be George Wickham. Pray, sir, do you know the man?”

  Mr. Darcy considered for a moment how to answer her question and rubbed his jaw. “If it is the man I think it is, then yes, I do. I know him very well. He was the son of my father’s steward.” He paused and then, with more feeling, continued, “Miss Elizabeth, I am almost certain it must be the same man, and I have to warn you, he is not a good man. He has easy, pleasing manners, but his character is seriously lacking, and you should not trust him as he is not an honorable man.”

  “Mr. Darcy, this is most alarming. Of what are you speaking?”

  “Miss Elizabeth, what I know of Mr. Wickham’s character is not proper supper conversation, and some of it is indelicate and would upset your sensibilities. Please just trust me and stay away from the man. I will speak to your father, and I hope that what I relate to him will rouse him to keep your sisters away from him, too.”

  “I see,” was all she could mumble in her response to his intense glare. She felt this disclosure must be significant to him as she could see anger and pain in his eyes. She wondered what he could know of the man to make him speak so passionately.

  “Promise me, Miss Elizabeth, that you will stay away from him.” The earnest concern in his voice made her heart weak, and she dared to look him in the eyes. What she saw caused her to sit back, and she nodded numbly. “I promise.”

  The heaviness of that moment hung in the air for the rest of the meal, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the end of it. Her mind was quite full, and she wished she could be left alone to sort through the mixed emotions she was experiencing. She had been so happy and contented talking to Mr. Darcy, but then her family’s behavior had intruded, and the realization struck that their worlds would be unlikely to combine. She shuddered to think of the intensity in his voice when he warned her of Mr. Wickham. He did not give details of his knowledge of the man, but she knew enough of Mr. Darcy to trust his honorability and believed he would tell her if she asked him to explain.