by Leenie Brown
Darcy pointed at himself. “Me?”
Mrs. Gardiner nodded.
Darcy’s brows furrowed as he pondered the thought for only a moment. “I am at your service, Miss Bennet. Do you have a plan?”
The sparkle in her eyes grew brighter as she nodded in reply.
“Then, tell me what to do.”
Jane looked around the room at each person, then, leaning forward, said in a soft but conspiratorial voice. “First, I will need an invitation to a ball.”
~*~*~
Less than a week later, Darcy stood before the Johnsons’ grand townhouse, dressed in his finest. It had not been so very difficult to secure the invitations needed to the Johnsons’ ball. Mr. Johnson had been eager to assist Darcy with his plan. There was nothing the man seemed to like more than a cunning stratagem. And, Mrs. Johnson had been easily persuaded to part with a few invitations when her husband had suggested that Mr. Darcy’s being in attendance would without a doubt guarantee that Colonel Fitzwilliam would attend as well as Mr. Bingley. However, he did not share with his wife the plan that was being laid to make her ball the most talked about ball of the season.
Richard huffed as he climbed out of Darcy’s carriage. “You do realize that you are indebted to me for this, do you not?” He skewered both Darcy and Bingley, whose carriage stood behind Darcy’s, with a displeased look.
Both men nodded.
“She better be worth it,” he muttered.
“She is,” Darcy said. “I just hope I can persuade her that I am worthy of her regard.” He knew that his cousin was not entirely put out with having to dance two sets with Miss Johnson, for Richard had smirked and teased all week about Darcy finally causing a stir in the family by following his heart and not his sense of duty. “I think you will agree with me about her worth once you meet her. That is actually why you are here, is it not?”
Richard straightened his sleeves and did not look at Darcy. “I am not sure I understand your meaning.”
Darcy chuckled. “Come, shall we get on with the introductions, so that your curiosity might be satisfied? You could have travelled here on your own and arrived fashionably late. There was no other need for you to arrive early with us, other than to meet Miss Elizabeth.”
His cousin shrugged. It was as close to an admission as Darcy was likely to get. Richard was a curious sort and had, ever since meeting Miss Bennet, been keenly interested in meeting Miss Elizabeth.
“I am here to watch the theatrics,” he replied as they approached the door to the townhouse.
“You do not wish to meet the future Mrs. Darcy?”
Bingley’s question was met by a small growling noise.
“Admit it. You are curious,” Bingley said with a laugh. “She has three other sisters,” he whispered.
“Very well. I will admit to curiosity if you refrain from attempting to marry me off to one and all. It is bad enough that I must dance twice with the same lady.” He gave Darcy a pointed look. “There will be talk, and it will reach my mother.”
“Your sacrifice is duly noted.”
“Good. Now, lead me to the rare creature who has enchanted the dour and disapproving Fitzwilliam Darcy. I wish to know that my sacrifice is not in vain.”
“Darcy, Bingley, Fitzwilliam.” Mr. Johnson looked as eager as a schoolboy on Christmas day waiting for his Christmas pudding.
“Mr. Bennet and his daughters are in the library.” His eyes twinkled. “My wife was called away to attend to something just as they arrived.” His brows flicked upward. He nodded his head toward the interior of the house and began walking in the direction of the library. “Quickly, while she attends to another emergency.”
Reaching their destination, Mr. Johnson opened the door. “Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, your gentlemen have arrived.” Turning to the gentlemen behind him, he added, “I can see why you are so determined to be rid of your sister, Mr. Bingley. Miss Bennet is quite the beauty and her sister?” His eyebrows flicked up as he looked at Darcy. “Well worth a bit of scheming. She’s delightful.” Then, before allowing them entrance to the room, he said, “My Marietta is still unattached, Colonel.”
Richard shook his head. “I will dance my two, but I am attached to my commission at present.”
“Ah, well,” the man said as he stepped aside, “you cannot fault a father for trying.”
“No,” Richard agreed. “I would fault him if he did not.”
Darcy and Bingley were both inside the library before Richard had finished his exchange with Mr. Johnson.
“Colonel, it is good to see you,” Jane greeted as he entered the room. “Thank you for helping us with this plan.”
“It is my pleasure to be of service.”
Jane lifted a brow, and her lips curled upwards in amusement.
“A small prevarication,” he whispered, causing her to laugh.
“Colonel, I would like you to meet my father, Mr. Thomas Bennet. Father, this is the Right Honourable Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.”
“Ah, so I do get to meet the writer of the letter. I thank you, sir, for alerting me to the true nature of Mr. Wickham.”
“I cannot say it was my pleasure that it was necessary to impart such information, but I am glad it has been welcomed.”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “It is never easy to relate unpleasant news, which makes it all the more appreciated. I have shared it only with my Lizzy.” He drew the pretty lady next to him forward. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, this is my second daughter, Elizabeth.”
Richard bowed. “I am delighted to finally meet you.” He glanced at his cousin. “I have heard much about you.”
“Aside from what I could glean from your letter, I know very little about you,” Elizabeth replied with a smile.
“There is very little to know,” he assured her. “I am but a poor soldier.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, a Right Honourable poor soldier.”
Richard shrugged. “Far poorer than I wish to be.”
“We could all say that,” said Mr. Bennet with a chuckle.
“I should very much like to sit for a while,” Jane interrupted before Richard could reply. She took her father’s arm and gave it a soft tug while she caught Darcy’s eye and tipped her head toward her sister.
Darcy nodded. “Would you care to take a turn around the room?” he asked Elizabeth. “I am no Miss Bingley, but I do think I can circle a library just as well.”
Elizabeth smiled, though her brow furrowed. Jane had claimed that the Mr. Darcy she had met in town was different from the one she had met in Hertfordshire, and it appeared she was right. This Mr. Darcy seemed nearly at ease. “I should like that, Mr. Darcy.”
“Allow me to begin our conversation with a long overdue apology,” he said as she placed her hand on the arm he offered her. “I behaved abominably while at Netherfield. I had my reasons and considered myself justified. However, there is no justification for such poor behaviour.” He drew a breath. “I slighted you, looked down on the neighbourhood, and connived to separate myself and Bingley from the area.”
She was watching the floor before them.
“I should like to make reparations for my words and actions if you will allow it.” He covered her hand with his, drawing her attention up from the red and orange of the carpet. “Can you forgive me?”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes from his hand to his face. “I can. Can you forgive me for listening to Mr. Wickham and speaking poorly of you?”
His smile as he nodded caused Elizabeth’s breath to catch and her heart to flutter.
“Yes, yes, I can, and I am certain I deserved most of what you said about me.”
“That does not make it right,” she protested.
“I will allow that,” he replied, “but it does make it understandable. My behavior is harder to comprehend.”
They had made a full circuit of the room. Music was filtering in through the door, and they could hear people walking in the corridor.
“If we are to beg
in again,” Darcy said softly, “then, allow me to ask you for a dance as I should have at our first meeting, for I cannot resist the temptation of your loveliness.”
Chapter 13
“Have you concluded your thinking about Mr. Darcy yet?” Mr. Bennet asked as Elizabeth took a seat next to him in the library. She and he would make their appearance after the first set, so there was ample time for them to continue the discussion Mr. Bennet had begun when they had entered the carriage. There, he had questioned his daughter regarding her interactions with Mr. Darcy while he was in Hertfordshire, as well as how she might now consider the gentleman’s behaviour in light of the secrets contained in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s letter.
“He is so different.”
“As Jane said.”
Elizabeth nodded, perplexity was written across her face in the way her brows furrowed and how she pulled the right corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, and it was echoed in the way her shoulders rose and then drooped as she sighed.
Mr. Bennet knew that look and sigh well. His daughter was not good at admitting small faults. She had a propensity to strive to be absolutely correct at every turn, and it frustrated and angered her when she was not. He suspected that at present, his Lizzy was more than a trifle upset with herself and did not wish to admit it. It had been a trial to persuade her to admit that she had misjudged Mr. Darcy as they had travelled – not because Elizabeth had not realized that fact as soon as she had read the colonel’s letter. No, she knew her error, she just did not wish to face the shame that came with the admission. Pride was never a pleasant partner. Eventually, it would demand its dues, and payment usually was extracted in the form of mortification.
“You like him,” he offered to her the words he suspected she wished to say.
Her head bobbed up and down slowly. “I do, or I think I might.”
Mr. Bennet sat quietly as his daughter pondered that thought for a moment.
“He was not at all proud just now.” She stared across the room toward the door. “He apologized.” She turned her eyes to her father.
“For what?”
“For his comment at the assembly, how he behaved while in Hertfordshire, and for attempting to separate himself and Bingley from the area.” Her head tipped to the side, and her eyebrows drew together.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. “Indeed, why would he attempt to separate himself from the area?”
Elizabeth blinked.
“Ah, my Lizzy, your eyes have always spoken to me. There was a flicker in them just now as you spoke of his leaving Hertfordshire.” He patted her hand. “When your head tips after such a flicker, I know you are questioning something about whatever it was you were saying. I am not so unobservant as I appear.” He sighed. “I should appear observant more often. For that, I must apologize. I have not done my duty as a husband and father.” He straightened his waistcoat. “It is something I intend to correct, though I do fear I will not be successful. I am too given to taking my ease.”
“Oh, Papa!”
“No, it is true. I do enjoy peace and solitude, and though I love your mother and your sisters, they try my patience greatly.” He shook his head. “What gentleman who is as fastidious as Mr. Darcy would wish to be tied to such a brood as mine?”
Elizabeth gasped.
“No, not you, my dear, nor Jane. I speak of your mother and younger sisters. They are precisely the opposite of Mr. Darcy, and I would venture to say he finds them as trying as I do. However, he lacks the love I have for them, for they are not his kin.” His lips turned up in a small smile. “Yet.”
He chuckled at her gasp. “I did tell you to consider it. I will not force you to marry against your wishes, but he is a sensible fellow, and he is not poor.”
“Papa!”
“Be reasonable, my dear. You do not wish to be married to someone who will leave you in the hedgerows upon his demise. Such a worry can addle the mind.”
“Oh, Papa.” Elizabeth grasped his hand. “You will not leave us in the hedgerows. Mama exaggerates, does she not?”
His head bobbed up and down slowly as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “She does, but knowing I cannot provide for her as I wish has been a heavy weight to bear. I tell you this because I would have you consider your future with your head as well as your heart.” He squeezed her hand once again. “The man loves you. It is plain to see. And you are not indifferent to him. See how your cheeks grow rosy at the mere mention?” He chuckled. “Allow him to court you, Elizabeth. Study his character. Grow to like him more. I think you will be happy, but if I am wrong, do not accept his offer. However, I cannot allow you to shy away from this for fear of bearing reproof for not having judged fairly or some other foolish and proud reason without doing my best to persuade you to give Mr. Darcy a second chance. I love you far too much to do that, even if it means eventually having to give you away. Promise me you will consider what I have said.”
Elizabeth’s lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. “I will,” she promised him.
He squeezed her hand once more. “Good, now before we become even more missish and you become a watering pot, we should take our places to observe the proceeding. Hopefully, there will be a few gentlemen left to partner you for dances. Your mother would be rightfully put out with me for not having you dance every set with someone. To think you are here in town with so many wealthy young men and instead of dancing, your father has you sitting in a library.”
Elizabeth laughed. “It is not you who has us sitting here; it is Jane.”
“Of all my daughters, I never thought it would be my Jane scheming her way into a betrothal,” he said with a laugh as he stood. “But then, it seems many people are not the same in town as they are in Hertfordshire.”
“Except Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth added with a smirk, causing her father to laugh again as she took his arm. “I am curious to meet this Sir Matthew,” she whispered as they crossed the room. “Who would willingly wish to marry her?”
Her father winked. “We shall soon see, shall we not?”
“Indeed, we shall.”
~*~*~
Jane took her place at Mr. Darcy’s side, her hand on his arm, while Mr. Bingley followed Mr. Johnson down the corridor and into the ballroom from a door that would not draw notice. It was the same door through which her father would later enter with Elizabeth. Later – after Caroline’s fate had been sealed.
Jane blew out a breath. Her heart was racing. She had never caused even a small stir at a ball before this, but she knew that entering the ballroom with Mr. Darcy was just the beginning of the attention she would draw this evening. She scanned the room as she entered. The light from numerous candles sparkled from the chandeliers and danced from mirror to mirror. Everything from the arrangement of the plants and chairs to the size of the floor and the number of musicians in the alcove was breathtaking. Everything was so much finer than anything she had experienced in Hertfordshire. The opulence and number of people in attendance at this ball even outshone Netherfield.
“Are you ready?” Darcy whispered.
She gave a small nod of her head and allowed him to lead her into the room. They circled to the left, passing a window with a set of chairs tucked into its alcove.
“She is just ahead of us,” Darcy whispered.
“And Sir Matthew?” Jane attempted to peer through the crowd to where Mr. Darcy was looking, but he, having the greater height, had the advantage, and she would have to rely on his information for the time being.
“He appears to be just approaching to collect her for a dance.”
“Precisely on schedule,” Jane muttered.
“I do admire that about the man,” Darcy replied.
Jane smiled and turned impertinent eyes up toward him. “As do I. Although I find his most endearing quality is his willingness to marry Miss Bingley.”
“Indeed,” Darcy agreed with a chuckle. “Here we go. Three steps and she will see us.”
There was a hint of glee
in Mr. Darcy’s voice that surprised Jane, though only slightly. She had come to know the gentleman better since her arrival in town. He was not so dour as he had at first appeared. He was proper and given to meticulousness, but he was not without a playful bent. It might not be displayed so often as some such as Mr. Bingley might display such an inclination, but it was there, and it was delightfully surprising every time he displayed it. Elizabeth would be glad for it, and Jane suspected, her sister would likely draw that part of Mr. Darcy’s character out. They would do well together, and from the way Elizabeth had fidgeted while waiting in the library and from how she welcomed Mr. Darcy tonight, Jane was certain that her sister was not unaffected by the gentleman – despite her pleas as they had talked last night that she was uncertain how she thought or felt about Mr. Darcy.
Jane heard her quarry before she saw her. The gasp Miss Bingley uttered was exceptionally pleasing.
“Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst,” Darcy said in greeting. He looked blankly at Sir Matthew. “Have we met?”
For a man who despised all forms of disguise, Mr. Darcy seemed rather adept at prevarication.
“Sir Matthew Broadhurst of Stoningham in Surrey,” Sir Matthew replied with a bow after which Darcy introduced himself and then Jane.
“A delight to meet you both.”
Sir Matthew’s expression was pleasant, and, if Jane were not mistaken, there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying himself, which was good since Jane still worried that she was asking him to take on a life of misery by marrying Caroline Bingley. Oh, she knew what he had said about knowing what he was taking on, but still, her heart was not wholly at ease.
“You did not tell me you had such a lovely friend,” he said to Caroline. “Miss Bennet, I am promised to Miss Bingley for this set, but I would be honoured if you would allow me to claim the next dance. Unless, of course, it is already spoken for?”
