Compromising Mr. Darcy
Page 36
Darcy managed to sit with an air of assumed tranquillity during the whole of it, and Elizabeth could not account for him in the slightest. “Mr. Darcy, you seem rather amused by these proceedings. Do you care to explain yourself?” He turned to Elizabeth, and she was diverted to see he wore a half-smile.
“Certainly, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Black gave a very rousing sermon the other Sunday on, among other subjects, the benefits of marriage, and it seems the attendees of the Meryton Church took his words quite to heart.”
He seemed to be holding back a larger smile, and Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “And this diverts you?”
“You may have noticed many men were in conference with your father this evening.”
“Yes.”
“It seems I was very fortunate to seek your hand when I did or else any one of six potential suitors might have beaten me to it. I daresay I have won the brightest jewel in the county!”
Elizabeth’s vanity could not credit the fact that six men sought her hand, but she chose to tease Darcy in return. Fixing an arch look upon him, she coyly replied, “Only in the county? And to think that with six other offers, I might have taken my pick, Mr. Darcy!”
Before Darcy could express himself as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do, their tête-à-tête was interrupted by Lydia dashing through the supper room with an officer’s sword above her head, shrieking with laughter, and shamelessly flirting. Kitty followed hard on her heels, taunting another officer by refusing to return his gloves.
Ignoring this, Mrs. Bennet’s remarks of delight at the matches of her eldest daughters were growing more clamorous by the minute. Elizabeth knew her mother’s pride was affronted to have shared the news of their engagements with so many other announcements. Mrs. Bennet sought to remind everyone of the superiority in wealth and circumstance of the men her daughters had captured. She detailed at length how Elizabeth was remarkably clever in ensnaring Mr Darcy, as her beauty was nothing to Jane’s, and Mrs. Bennet had frequently worried such a wayward girl would never catch the eye of any man.
Elizabeth could not quite guess at her mother’s meaning, except that perhaps Mrs. Bennet believed Darcy was attracted to her second eldest because of her wit and lively mind, but Darcy listened with an air of increased gravity tending towards indignation. Elizabeth attempted to shush her mother but to no avail. Mr. Bennet sat silent, staring and unseeing at yet another glass of wine. Elizabeth blushed again and again with shame and mortification. Her only consolation was that Bingley and Jane were seated far away and seemed not to notice the behaviour of the Bennets.
Soon the instrument was opened, and Mr. Bingley begged for some performance. Mary approached with alacrity, even before allowing Miss Bingley to arise from her chair. Mary’s manner was affected and her voice weak; after completing one piece, which offered little reward for the effort of hearing it, she immediately began another song. Elizabeth was in agony, and Darcy seemed even more fixed in his solemn silence. At last, Elizabeth’s pleading looks roused the interest of her father, who approached Mary mid-song and spoke too loudly.
“That will do extremely well, Child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.” Mary barely left the pianoforte before tears sprang to her eyes.
To Elizabeth, it seemed her whole family was suddenly intent on exposing themselves to all possible public ridicule. At least Mr. Collins was sick at Longbourn with a cold. As the gravity of this humiliation sank in—on the very evening announcing Elizabeth’s betrothal, which should have been a memory of great delight—she felt a crushing sensation in her heart. Nearly leaping from her chair, she mumbled an excuse and sped towards the balcony.
*****
“Lizzy!” Jane jumped from her chair at the sight of her dearest sister in such distress. She had tried to appear composed despite the events of the evening. Her third glass of wine had not calmed her nerves. She nearly knocked over the fourth as she stood.
Bingley took her hand. “Look, there goes Darcy after her. He will see to her.”
“I still think I ought to go. Maybe after Mary?” Caroline and Louisa were looking harshly at her. How had she not seen before that they disliked the idea of her marrying their brother? They clearly believed she was not worthy! Pulling her hand free from Bingley, she left. She certainly agreed. If only her father had not announced their engagement! She might release him without tarnishing her sisters’ names.
“Jane!” She heard Bingley call after her, but she needed space. Tears fought to run from her eyes, and she blindly walked through the rooms of Netherfield. Rounding a corner, she found Mary and Mr. Bennet.
“Mary! How are you?” She pulled her sister into an embrace and glared at her father.
“I practiced so hard!” Mary said through sniffles. “I hate balls! I hate that I am not pretty and charming like you and Lizzy!”
Mr. Bennet stood still, entirely useless, and Jane rubbed Mary’s back. “You are lovely, dear, especially when you have confidence. You worry too much about the opinion of others. Now, you must never let them know they hurt you.”
Mary pulled back from Jane with awe in her eyes. “You have felt pain? You always seem so happy!”
“Why do you think I try so hard to make everything appear pleasant? It pains me to acknowledge the failings of those I love or that others may harm them. It is better to curse myself for having an uncharitable thought than to allow that it is true.”
“So…so I do not play very badly? It is that the others were rude?”
“Oh, my sweet sister! If you played so badly, no one would request for you to play, and you are always asked for dancing after the dinners. Your music makes people joyous!”
“But it means I can never dance. I had thought they simply did not wish to see me on the floor.”
Jane frowned; she had not considered that. “Have you not had partners this evening?”
“Yes, every set. It is most unusual.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Bennet said. Jane sent him a sharp look, and he explained, “All but Jane have been flooded with young gentlemen wishing to dance.”
“You see!” Jane cried. “Now dry your tears and return to the supper. We must keep Mama from growing anxious. I will be along in a moment.”
“Thank you,” Mary said and squeezed Jane’s hand before leaving.
Mr. Bennet kissed her cheek. “You are such a good girl. You can always clear up the messes we make.”
His words infuriated Jane more, and she left for the library. She wanted to toss all the books off the shelves and throw them across the room. She never threw a tantrum as a child, but did not the occasion deserve one? If for just one night her family could act with dignity, it should have been tonight! Not only for her sake, but for Lizzy and Mr. Darcy’s as well!
Her anger could not last long. Soon it turned to reproach. She paced around the room, and when Bingley entered, she burst into tears.
“Jane, darling, why are you crying?” he asked.
She was too consumed with despair to reply and was only briefly aware that Bingley stood before her for what must have been an awkward length of time before engulfing her in his arms.
“Here, love.” He led her to a settee, and she sobbed anew. “What has you so upset?” he asked while rubbing her back. He squeezed his handkerchief into her hand.
She stared at her hands. At length, she finally replied, “I must release you from this engagement.”
“No!” he shouted forcefully. She said nothing and he leapt from the seat. “Your father has announced our betrothal. You cannot break our engagement without harming your sisters’ reputations! Yours would be beyond repair!”
She had thought of that, but she desired his happiness above her own, even more than she cared for her sisters. “Lizzy will marry Mr. Darcy. All will not be lost. Mary is too serious for most to taint her with any wrong I do, and perhaps in a few years, the gossip will wane. I daresay Kitty and Lydia need a few ye
ars before marriage.” She made the mistake of looking at Bingley. His face was pained. Why was making the right choice hurting them both so much?
He sat next to her again. “Why? Why are you doing this? I thought you loved me!”
“I do!” she cried. “I do! But surely you see love is not enough. Not with all that stands between us.”
“What stands between us?”
“My family is terrible!”
“No, they are exuberant and lively…”
“And too much for even Meryton to handle, let alone London. You deserve more than I can bring you. You deserve someone with wealth and standing in society. What of your sister?”
“What of her?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Would her prospects be harmed by our marriage?”
“I will not give you up for my sister!”
The thought brought more pain to Jane. It seemed they continued to be alike. Both loved each other more than their siblings. “And your parents? They planned great things for you, did they not? You cannot disappoint them.”
“You are worth it.”
Jane shook her head. No, he is too amiable for his own good.
Bingley took her hands in his. “Your parents will be disappointed if we do not wed.”
Jane’s heart seized. Another point on which they were similar. He brought her chin up to meet his eyes.
“We deserve our own happiness. Mine resides with you. If it will truly make you happy to break our engagement, I will honour your request.” Tears shimmered in his eyes, and he visibly swallowed. “Tell me you wish to walk away from your own feelings and not out of fear for myself.”
Jane was mesmerised by his eyes. She could see the pain she was causing him. How selfish of her! It would ruin him forever if she jilted him. Society would mock them, and it may give them heartache, but from that they could recover. Denying their love would be of the greatest sins, she was sure. She shook her head. “No, I want you, Charles. I do.”
His lips crushed hers, and he pulled her in for a tight embrace. “You have me, Jane.”
The kisses were different from what they experienced before. A desperation hung on them. His hands roamed her body, and she had no desire for it to cease. This was to be her life. This man, this feeling. Perhaps it was sensible to deny it, but she was helpless. She craved his love and desired to show him her complete trust and adoration. The sounds of the ball outside the walls of the library grew quieter as the room filled with her pants and moans.
Chapter Eight
Darcy saw Elizabeth dash towards the door. He glared Mrs. Bennet and found fault with Mr. Bennet as well. Their inaction and folly were causing his Elizabeth pain, and the master of Pemberley was not pleased. So much for tolerance.
The evening had started so well. He was in high spirits, buoyed by his belief that all Elizabeth needed to fall in love with him was for him to be open, instead of reserved, and tolerant of her family. He began well enough. She seemed charmed by his behaviour, and he managed to find amusement in the idea of so many of the area’s gentlemen having desired her that they were sufficiently motivated by guilt from Mr. Black’s sermon to offer for her. He was glad she would soon be away from so many admirers, even if it was likely to happen everywhere she went.
He enjoyed her teasing wit during their first dance, and he exacted his revenge, unknown to her, when he reminded himself of her speaking the word pleasure. It was a little ridiculous how that one word from her perfect mouth could lift his spirits to such a degree, but if three dances was the price to pay for it, she was worth that and more.
Not that he would ever regret dancing with Elizabeth. He was not given to levity, and although he excelled at dancing—the product of having the best masters—it was difficult for him to be lively or to find any pleasure in most of his partners. But Elizabeth was life personified. How could he not enjoy himself when Elizabeth was his partner? Her beautiful smile and sparkling eyes, meeting his as they hopped and skipped around the dance floor, could lift the foulest of moods. He tried not to think about the memories in which he would later indulge, of Elizabeth’s pleasing bosom as she jumped and turned in time to the music, about how much he enjoyed seeing her face flush from the exercise and hearing her gasp to catch her breath. How he imagined the delights of other activities causing similar reactions in the future. Now was certainly not the time for such thoughts.
He disliked Mrs. Bennet’s innuendo that Elizabeth had ensnared him using some kind of design or trickery and was angered that Mr. Bennet did nothing to still his wife’s tongue. It would not do for gossip to emerge that Elizabeth had drawn him in with her arts and allurements. He was pleased to hear instead that most sensible people had seen how he often stared at her and now, at least, interpreted his gaze as admiration.
The balcony was dark, with fewer lanterns than the front of the house, and it was a moonless night due to the clouds. He called out, “Elizabeth?”
Silence greeted him. He tried again, a note of panic edging into his voice. It was quite cold, and the air was still moist from the recent rain. Elizabeth wore only her thin ball gown, and he feared she would be chilled quickly. He attempted to scan the garden below but could make nothing out. He pressed forward anyway; she might be walking to relieve her tension. He found her not far from the house, on the very bench where he first proposed to her. Or was it the second proposal?
“Elizabeth, darling. You will grow chilled. Your mother will be beside herself with worry over an ill bride.”
She met his eyes, and he saw she had been crying. His heart ached to see such a sad expression on her beautiful face.
“Yes, let us return, then. It would not do for you to jilt me because I am unwell.”
She attempted to rise, but he stayed her by squeezing her shoulder. “Jilt you? Elizabeth, what can you mean?”
She could not suppress a rueful laugh. “Mama is beside herself with worry these last few days that if we do not marry on Friday, you will not have me at all.”
Darcy scowled. “And is that your fear as well?” His voice had a hard edge.
She turned her eyes back to him and answered with obvious sincerity. “No, I would never doubt your honour.”
Releasing his breath, Darcy sat on the bench next to her. His broad shoulders grazed hers, and their thighs nearly touched. She shivered, and he shrugged off his jacket to offer her the warmth. He was struck by how small she was and how much he desired to protect her. As much as it would soon be his duty to do so, it would be a profound honour as well.
She spoke softly. “You know that is what Mr. Wickham was attempting to say in the drawing room the other day—that you dishonoured your father’s will—but I could not believe him.”
He squeezed her hands where they were clasped together on her lap. “Thank you, Elizabeth. Few see Wickham for the scoundrel he is, though I am not surprised that you did, given your intelligence. I will tell you of my history with him someday. For now, you need only know that he will not trouble us again. You do me credit by believing in my honour so implicitly.”
“You should not attempt to flatter me, sir. We know I have been mistaken in my first impressions before.”
Her statement confused him, but he remained silent.
“His other declaration was that you are engaged to your cousin, Anne.” His face darkened, but she stared at their hands and would not look at him. “I...I did not believe him on that either or Mr. Collins when he said the same. But I am reminded of the words you spoke here, how you felt it your duty to offer me marriage due to our...indiscretion. That it was demanded of your honour. Miss de Bourgh sounds your equal in circumstance and wealth. Your families must have long cherished the hope of your union. And whom will you bring them instead? A country gentleman’s daughter with connections in trade? Vulgar relations? Tonight, we have seen just how ridiculously vulgar they are. I know you would not break your promise if it was bound elsewhere, but be truthful. You did not wish for this marriage.”
He lifted her face to look at him. “My supposed engagement to Anne is nothing but the fanciful wish of her mother; it was never mine or Anne’s. I am ashamed to learn it is so openly circulated, and you had the misfortune to hear it. Do you not recall that I declared here on this very spot that I do not wish for a marriage based only on rank and wealth? Did I not tell you how you captivate me? Almost since the first moment of our acquaintance?”
Her tears came anew, and he knew not what to do besides offer his handkerchief. She cried silently for a few minutes, then seemed to have reached some kind of decision. She dried her eyes and stood.
“Come, sir. My partner will be looking for me, and we must have you dance as well.”
“Elizabeth, no. There is not another woman in the room…”
“Whom it would not be a punishment to stand up with?”
Darcy furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “How did you know I intended to speak those words?”
Elizabeth answered with a sly smile and tugged on his hand. “Come, William. I am certain we can find at least one other lady handsome enough to tempt you. Several of them are now engaged, as are you, and can have no designs upon you. Surely they must prove tolerable and certainly are not slighted by other men.”
She attempted to pull him along, but he resisted. “Elizabeth?”
She turned and looked at him but said nothing.
“Elizabeth, did you...that is…” His throat squeezed tight. She had heard him, every word, at the first assembly and clearly took it quite to heart. He directed her back to the bench, and she was surprisingly compliant.