“Miss Elizabeth! Miss Elizabeth!”
Stomping her foot, Elizabeth spun around and offered a perfunctory curtsy to Mr. Darcy. The man caught up to her at the edge of the drive, slightly out of breath from the refined jog he undertook to reach her.
“Do you plan to walk, Miss Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth frowned. It was quite obvious to her what her intentions were, and her patience for social niceties nearly disappeared. “Nay, I intend to embroider a pillow in the finest gold thread and jewel tones.”
Mr. Darcy laughed, eliciting a confused choreography of Elizabeth’s eyebrows as she did not think her deadpan response was quite that funny.
“You do not simper like the ladies of my acquaintance in London.”
“Then perhaps you should make new acquaintances in London if you find a society to be lacking.” Elizabeth glanced behind her at the wild beauty just beyond the path that she so desperately wished to explore, but had no intention of inviting Mr. Darcy to join her, alone, in the dense fog.
“I do not so easily speak to people I am not well acquainted with. I find sanctuary in silence as others carry the burden of social platitudes.” Darcy’s hands clasped behind his back as the man stood a little taller, correcting a perceived deficiency in his posture.
Elizabeth shrugged. “My sister is shy, but she is careful not to allow her shyness to offend those in her company.”
“And my silence has offended you? Or perhaps it was my thoughtless remark at the assembly?” Mr. Darcy bowed in contrition, thus not seeing Elizabeth’s mouth drop open in surprise and snap shut again, pressed in a firm line of anger.
“If you knew yourself to be offensive, sir, I wonder that you never apologized?” Elizabeth began to walk down the path to put a bit of distance between herself and Mr. Darcy.
“But I just have, madam.”
Elizabeth quickened her pace and glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Again you are mistaken, Mr. Darcy. You have only acknowledged that both your silence at times and words, at other times, have greatly offended me. I heard not a word of regret or apology in your observation.” Reaching the end of the path, Elizabeth could not take another step without beginning a journey into the denser fog. Scowling, she quickly turned and began walking in the opposite direction along the length of the path, forcing Mr. Darcy to hasten so that he might keep up with her.
“And how would you wish for me to apologize? Would you like a letter, listing all of my faults and missteps since our introduction? Shall I enumerate yours, when you have used your beguiling charms to ensnare me and then reject me as I am all too familiar is a game for most ladies’ amusement.”
Elizabeth halted and scoffed at the man who could not even offer a simple apology for his transgressions. “The only game I have played, sir, took place on a chessboard. If you perceived my actions or words to have offered you any encouragement of the seduction –”
“Seduction!”
“Yes, the seduction that you and Mr. Bingley have conspired to . . . UGH” Elizabeth lost her train of thought in a muddle of blinding rage as every high and low of her Netherfield visit played in rapid succession in her memory. Finding her situation untenable, she marched angrily away from Mr. Darcy.
Incensed the woman would storm off without explanation yet again, Mr. Darcy’s hand involuntarily reached out and caught her arm. Elizabeth yelped and then covered her mouth with her free hand as she twisted her arm from Mr. Darcy’s grip.
Realizing his gross error, Mr. Darcy released her, but the opposite force of Elizabeth’s struggle carried her body away from him with such power she fell backward to the ground.
“My God! Elizabeth, I am so very sorry. I do not know what came over me.” Mr. Darcy crumpled to his knees as Elizabeth sat there, unceremoniously smarting on her posterior. As the shock of her fall faded, Elizabeth settled her weight using her abdominal muscles and lifted the hands that had broken her fall. She inspected the multitude of scratches from the rocks below and brushed off the pea-sized gravel still stuck to her porcelain skin.
“You are most grievously injured, and it is all my fault. May I –” Darcy gulped as his eyes locked with Elizabeth’s, “may I assist you?” He held out his hands to help her rise.
The weight of Mr. Darcy’s concern pressed heavily on Elizabeth’s chest. The man looked at her as if she were someone of precious value, a different look of affection than she had experienced with her father when she had been particularly clever or made him laugh. A giggle bubbled up through Elizabeth’s throat, and she shook her head, continuing to dust her skirts.
“I believe I might manage.” Elizabeth leaned forward, testing that her feet stood firmly planted beneath her, and continued her slightly forward roll to lift herself off the ground and stand in the most ladylike fashion available. Mr. Darcy likewise rose, appearing morbidly uncomfortable now the danger had passed, and only the guilt of his actions remained.
“Mr. Darcy –“
“Miss Elizabeth –“
Elizabeth laughed again as they attempted to speak at the same time. Cautiously, Darcy joined her in her mirth. After the stress of the argument and fall dissipated in laughter, they calmed and found a comfort in each other’s eyes once more. Elizabeth marveled at the very peace such silence between them fostered, a peace that became shattered the second that they spoke to one another. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes to break the spell and reopened them to focus on the injuries to her hands that were now beginning to throb.
“I am sorry if I have hurt your feelings, Mr. Darcy, in my rude behavior that I confess has worried me since arriving at Netherfield.”
“No, please, do not . . . You have been baited at every turn, and I have been most impressed by your fortitude under such trying circumstances.” Darcy took a breath before continuing. “It is a trait I have greatly admired.”
Elizabeth gasped as Mr. Darcy lifted her spirits in a manner she was not prepared to allow. “Please, your compliments are too confusing, sir.”
“Confusing? But I only wish to say I admire you a great deal, Miss Elizabeth.”
“And I am not willing to accept such admiration. I hope you have a pleasant morning, sir.” Elizabeth curtsied and began to walk away again.
“Miss Elizabeth!” he called after her, this time only reaching out a hand in her direction, but not touching her person again.
“I’m sorry, I really must go.” She held up her injured hands reminding him that she did, in fact, have pressing matters to ameliorate. She dashed back indoors, breathless over so many difficult feelings and wishes in her heart and mind. Her hands began to brighten into an angry red as her body attempted to repair the small cuts and scrapes. Elizabeth had been looking at her hands so intently as she walked, she nearly bumped into Jane halfway up the stairs.
“Lizzy! What has happened?” Jane spied Elizabeth’s injury right away. The front doors opened as Mr. Darcy entered the foyer.
“I tripped as I was walking and broke my fall with my hands. The ground is ever so slippery.”
“Come to my room,” Jane looked over her shoulder with suspicion to a very guilt-stricken Mr. Darcy still standing just inside the home. “I have a balm that should help.”
As the two Bennet sisters continued their climb of the stairs, Mr. Bingley poked his head out of the dining room. Seeing the ladies retiring in the opposite direction of breaking their fasts, Mr. Bingley next sized up his friend, standing silently dumbstruck in the entryway.
“Darcy! Darcy!” Mr. Bingley whispered harshly, attracting the attention of his friend. “What the devil happened?”
Mr. Darcy frowned and ran his hand errantly through his hair. “I have bungled it, Bingley. She hates me. And I deserve it. And she thinks we are working in concert to woo them.”
Mr. Bingley’s eyes widened as he exited the dining room fully. “Are you mad? Whatever did you tell her? Jane has accepted me! If you have ruined my happiness, I shall never forgive y
ou, old man.”
Darcy shook his head and joined Bingley in the dining room. He held no appetite, but perhaps a strong cup of coffee would alleviate his self-deprecation by providing a bitter distraction. “I do not know, Charles. I have truly mucked things up this time.”
The dining room was not empty as Caroline Bingley sat prim and proper, hoping Mr. Darcy would notice she had risen particularly early. Her smile faded as he entered the dining room, his face as white as a ghost.
“How badly could things possibly have gone? You were not with Miss Elizabeth for but a moment!” Charles stood defiantly at the front of the room, as Darcy shuffled to a chair and took a seat. Caroline’s head jerked back to see Fitzwilliam Darcy slouch in his chair, clearly distressed over something to do with that Bennet chit!
“Mr. Darcy? Has Miss Elizabeth offended you? Charles, Charles!” Caroline threw her serviette on the table as she chirped her brother’s name to gain his attention. Charles finally gave up interrogating Darcy and glared at his sister.
“What, Caroline?”
Jutting her chin out, Caroline Bingley rose from her chair to move closer to Mr. Darcy in consolation. “I told you those Bennet women are wild and unpredictable. Why I have heard Miss Eliza insult poor Mr. Darcy on more than one occasion since she has been here! We must send them away this instant in his defense.”
“The Bennet ladies are our guests as well, as I must remind you, sister.”
“Yes, but Mr. Darcy is not a mere stone’s throw from his own home as is the case with the Bennets. We must send them away so that Mr. Darcy might know some peace in his country retreat.”
“No,” Darcy said, glumly, refusing to look at either of the Bingley siblings. “There is no need to send anyone away on my account. Besides, the roads are too treacherous still and the fog doubly so. I would not send even the best horse out in this weather.”
“But she has offended you most severely. I do not wish to insult you, Mr. Darcy, but you look unwell.” Caroline attempted to place her hand on the great man’s forearm but Darcy snatched it away before Caroline’s hand found its mark.
“HO! HO! Is he unwell! But it is not from a transgression by a Bennet!” Bingley teased his friend who finally lifted his head to glare at his host with a dark stare. “Don’t blame me, old friend. You know my advice on the matter.” Bingley began to walk towards the door, but Darcy called out to him.
“Where are you going, Charles? Surely you are not leaving?”
“Miss Elizabeth has been injured on my property. I will most certainly inquire as to how she fares from her sister.”
Caroline panicked as the exchanges between her brother and Mr. Darcy were not in her favor. That Charles was in the Bennet clutches was a foregone conclusion, but not Mr. Darcy! Quickly, she moved ahead her plans to discuss the evening’s goals.
“Charles, please tell the Bennet ladies they are to select a sonnet for recitation this evening for our after dinner entertainment. Louisa won’t participate, of course, remaining in her rooms today as she is indisposed. But we are to choose our favorite sonnet and deliver them for great fun!”
“I do not think—” Charles Bingley began to argue with his sister about her plans when Darcy interjected.
“That is a marvelous idea, Miss Bingley.” The faint glimmers of cheer lifted Darcy’s voice. “I would be happy to select a sonnet to share.”
Caroline clapped her hands in applause for herself, giddy that Mr. Darcy agreed with her plans for entertainment. “Charles? If Mr. Darcy will play along, you should just as well. . .” she taunted.
Bingley gaped at his friend, then closed his mouth and frowned. He was outvoted and even if the Bennet sisters were unwilling to participate, he would surely not be able to sit out now that Darcy had agreed.
“I yield. I shall mention the plan to the ladies, but I would not be surprised if they are reluctant to join us in our theatrics.”
After Charles had gone, Caroline took the seat next to Mr. Darcy and cornered the poor man about his misery. “If sonnets be a source of good cheer for you, we can begin our study of them this afternoon in the library. I should enjoy a chance to practice my diction and memorization with a partner.”
Darcy gulped and shook his head without looking at Miss Bingley, but instead taking a great interest in the globs of wax hanging in abstract fashion on the candelabra before him. “I am afraid I shall retire to my room for a rest to be well-prepared for this evening’s recitation. Besides, if we should practice together the surprise effect of our selections will be lost in tonight’s festivities.” Darcy did not wish to reveal he could sense a tear in his trousers at the knee from when he knelt to assist Miss Elizabeth in her distress. He needed to retire above stairs to change his clothing.
“And are you looking forward to learning what my sonnet selection will be?” Caroline baited Mr. Darcy in hopes of drawing out more of the lively personality she witnessed whenever Miss Eliza was near.
“I imagine the element of surprise will be only one of the highlights of the evening.” Darcy turned to Caroline to nod as he excused himself from the table and the room. He thankfully brought a copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets with him on this trip and could study at length in his room, at least until he knew it safe to venture out and avoid Miss Bingley in the afternoon hours.
Sitting calmly in an upholstered chair, Elizabeth Bennet sucked in her breath as her sister Jane applied an herbal tincture to her pained hands. The pressure of her sister’s fingertips agitated her fresh wounds.
“How did you fall, exactly? Was Mr. Darcy involved?” Jane asked, lifting her gaze to watch her sister’s face as she responded. The sweet and serene Jane Bennet became a force to reckon with when her younger siblings were mistreated. Even though Elizabeth took the blame, it was Jane Bennet who had given John Lucas a black eye when they were kids scampering about the countryside. The secret between the sisters was never exposed and for John’s part, he never admitted a girl had bested him for throwing rotten apples at her younger sister.
“No, I mean yes, but he did not mean to. It was truly an accident.” Elizabeth stammered in reply, feeling an anxiety clutch her heart. She wanted to explain to Jane how she and Mr. Darcy had quarreled, but now the argument sounded so ridiculous in her memory. Had she truly accused Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley of a seduction? Elizabeth groaned at her recollection of the exchange and received an apology from Jane. But it was not the pain that made her groan.
“No, I was rude and accused Mr. Darcy of a fanciful notion. We disagreed, as we often do when we are in private company with one another.”
Jane carefully inspected Elizabeth hands as she asked her next question. “Have you and Mr. Darcy been alone very often since we arrived?”
“Not by design, I assure you!” Elizabeth closed her fists to signal she was finished with her sister’s interrogation and nursing. “I visited the library for new reading material and it seems to be one of his favorite rooms.”
Jane nodded slowly in agreement. “His library at Pemberley–”
Elizabeth stood and scowled at Jane. “You and Miss Bingley both! Yes, his library at Pemberley is the most extensive collection of books in the whole kingdom, his library at Pemberley is so expertly decorated in a warm and inviting manner—”
A knock on the door interrupted the sisters as they both startled and looked toward the source of the noise. After Jane’s verbal acknowledgment, the door opened a small crack and a masculine voice called out.
“Miss Bennet? I have come to see to the condition of your sister, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Bingley’s voice carried through the small crack in the door as Jane stood and crossed the room to open it wider. Elizabeth blew a breath that fluttered the hair from her eyes as a contrite and concerned Mr. Bingley stood just in the doorway glancing past Jane and focusing on her. “I have heard how your injury occurred, and I am deeply embarrassed such a thing came to pass while you were visiting my home.”
“I am well, Mr. Bingley. Jane can t
ell you, I have experienced far worse scrapes and bruises on my walks.” Elizabeth attempted to thwart the truth of the incident from being revealed.
“Be that as it may, Mr. Darcy is dreadfully sorry he caused your fall and wishes to send you his heartfelt apologies. I hope you can forgive my friend for his poor manners. He does not perform to his best when he is in uncomfortable situations. ”
Hearing Mr. Bingley’s apology for his friend reminded Elizabeth of Mr. Darcy’s supposition that it was his insults at the assembly which offended her most. Feeling minxish, Elizabeth decided to test Mr. Bingley’s culpability. “Tell me, Mr. Bingley, was it you who told Mr. Darcy I heard his comment at the assembly? Because he mentioned that to me right before I fell.”
“Charles!” Jane covered her mouth with her hand, looking between her sister and Mr. Bingley. “Lizzie, I am sure if Mr. Bingley mentioned anything about the assembly to his friend it was not in the interest of harming you.”
Mr. Bingley’s upper lip caught the light from the beads of sweat lining up just under his nose as he turned his face to Jane. “I have broken your confidence, my darling.”
Elizabeth gasped at Mr. Bingley’s term of endearment for her sister.
Jane reached out to reassure her. “It is not incorrect, I had planned to tell you before Mr. Bingley came upstairs.” Jane turned her back to her precious Charles and offered her sister a face full of happiness. “Mr. Bingley has offered for my hand and I have accepted, but we still must speak to father.”
Reeling from the shock of her sister’s revelation, it now began to make sense to Elizabeth why Jane would accept a letter from Mr. Bingley. She was his intended! Elizabeth’s intelligence made the next leap to comprehend Mr. Bingley’s behavior concerning her relationship with Mr. Darcy. When Jane and Bingley married, it would only be natural that she and Mr. Darcy would find themselves often in mutual company. It would not do for her to hate the closest friend of her sister’s husband.
To Capture Mr. Darcy, a Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel Page 8
