Deception

by Ola Wegner

  ***

  The moment she entered the foyer, Elizabeth heard loud music coming from down the corridor. She followed it straight to the music room, standing for a moment before the closed door. The composition was undoubtedly very difficult to play, something which Elizabeth was well aware she could not perform with her own poor technique.

  She was surprised that such a quiet, seemingly passive creature as Georgiana Darcy chose to perform this stormy and dramatic piece. Elizabeth opened the door quietly and entered, hoping not to disturb the performer.

  She stared, overwhelmed with amazement, at the young girl.

  Could it be the same young lady who only yesterday had found it so hard to participate in a simple conversation to a point that she struggled to express her own opinion on the most trivial issues?

  Georgiana’s whole countenance was changed, her eyes half closed, her cheeks flushed, her entire body moving together with the melody and the rhythm of the music. She seemed to be transformed by the music, as if she, the music, and the instrument were one.

  For a long moment after the music ended, there was a silence in the room. At last Elizabeth spoke. “That was wonderful.”

  Startled, Georgiana looked up from the keyboard, now being her usual self, the shy, much younger sister of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. She managed a smile and spoke. “I thank you, Miss Bennet. I… I was not aware you had come. Let us go to the drawing room.”

  “Can we not stay in here?” Elizabeth proposed. “The drawing room is so spacious and formal. I think this room to be pleasant.”

  “Oh, yes!” Georgiana cried enthusiastically and then added more calmly. “If you do not mind, Miss Bennet, I would prefer to stay here as well.”

  They called for tea, and while they were waiting for it to be delivered, Elizabeth praised warmly. “Your playing is… I simply lack the words - truly exceptional. For certain, your technique is superb, but I have never heard anyone who could play with such strong feeling, with such richness and variety of emotion.”

  “I enjoy music,” Georgiana stated simply with a smile, and after a moment, she added thoughtfully. “It helps me to forget about everything. There are just the pianoforte and me. Brother has told me you play with great feeling as well, and that he has rarely heard anything which could equal your performance.”

  Elizabeth smiled doubtfully. “I think that your brother has grossly overestimated my abilities.”

  “But my brother never lies!” Georgiana exclaimed.

  Elizabeth raised her brow impishly. “I do not imply he does. I simply think that his opinion on my performance is strongly influenced by other issues which rather effectively blur the clarity of his vision in this case.”

  Georgiana looked at her slightly confused. “Oh.”

  “He likes me much more than my playing, I am afraid. He seems to have problems with separating these two things,” Elizabeth said confidentially in a lowered voice and was delighted to see Georgiana’s face break into a broad smile, similar to the one she could sometimes discern on her brother’s face.

  “But returning to your performance, I am sure you have had to work very diligently to achieve such, I am not afraid to use the word, virtuosity on the instrument.”

  Georgiana blushed at the compliment. “I practice from three to five hours a day. When I cannot practice for various reasons, like yesterday, I practice an hour or two longer the next day.”

  Elizabeth shook her head in bewilderment and respect. “I can only admire your devotion and how hardworking and industrious a person you must be. I would not be able to bear more than a week of such a regime. I lack the consistency, and I am simply too lazy to work so hard each day.”

  “But I do enjoy it,” Georgiana said with great conviction. “I cannot explain it, but it gives me the awareness of some purpose in my life. Sometimes I feel safer with my music than with the real people around me.”

  Elizabeth did not say anything to these words, and Georgiana continued happily. “My brother enjoys my music very much. He always asks me to play for him. He is the only person who hears most of the compositions I have learned. When I play for family or friends, like Mr. Bingley, for example, I always choose something more appropriate, something calmer which…”

  “Which does not attract so much attention,” Elizabeth finished for her, and Georgiana nodded her head in acknowledgment.

  The maid entered and the ladies occupied themselves with tea and refreshments.

  Elizabeth stared at Georgiana thoughtfully for a moment, before enquiring gently. “Have you ever thought about performing in front of a larger audience?”

  “But I do. I play often for my aunt and cousins and for Mrs. Reynolds. She is our housekeeper at Pemberley. She is like a mother to me, and she enjoys when I play more lively pieces just for her,” Georgiana explained with a smile.

  “I have rather meant public concerts, in London for example, for your family’s acquaintances perhaps,” Elizabeth said cautiously.

  Georgiana’s eyes widened and she shook her head decidedly. “Oh, no! I would die with mortification playing in front of complete strangers.”

  “But you said yourself you tend to forget about your surroundings while playing,” Elizabeth pointed out reasonably.

  “Yes,… that is true,” Georgiana agreed hesitatingly. “Even though I cannot imagine myself walking to the pianoforte and starting to play in the first place with so many strangers around. And what if I failed and brought the shame to my family?”

  “I am sure you would not. I have mentioned the public concerts because I have had the opportunity to attend such concerts by professional musicians when in London, and I can safely state that your performance was not in the least inferior to theirs, but on the contrary.”

  “Brother said the same many times, but I always thought that he was simply being kind,” Georgiana acknowledged.

  “No, it is you who underestimates yourself,” Elizabeth said, giving her a pointed look. ”And do you not know that your brother never lies and always says the absolute truth?”

  A small smile brightened Georgiana’s face. “Perhaps his vision is also blurred in my case, the same as in yours?”

  Elizabeth did not comment on this; she simply smiled to herself, shaking her head in amusement. “Speaking of your brother, I am afraid I have to leave your company and have a small talk with him as I promised him earlier.”

  “Oh, yes, please do,” Georgiana cried eagerly, only to add worriedly. “He has been so miserable since you left yesterday. He has been barely speaking to anybody, and his face looked so sad, as if he had been crying. I was afraid that … that perhaps…” Georgiana paused awkwardly while Elizabeth placed her hand on her arm reassuringly.

  “We had a small disagreement last night,” she revealed calmly. “I spoke with him shortly before I came here, and it is all well now.”

  “I am glad. I was afraid that something serious happened between you and my brother. He looked so devastated.”

  “No, it was nothing truly serious. We are getting to know each other better, and sometimes we see things differently. Every couple disagrees sometimes, I believe,” Elizabeth explained.

  Georgiana nodded. “Yes, I can imagine that. But brother is so…” She frowned, giving Elizabeth a troubled look. “He likes you so much; and if something was to happen, I cannot imagine how he…”

  Suddenly Elizabeth felt very guilty, as if a heavy burden had been placed upon her heart. “Do not fret over this. Everything is well between us.” She reassured Georgiana.

  She stood up, directing herself to the door. Just before she left she turned one more time and spoke softly. “I will do everything I can not to hurt him. I promise.”

  ***

  The library door was slightly ajar, as if waiting for her. She pushed them open, stepping inside. Darcy sat behind a large desk, writing a letter.

  “You are working,” she said.

  He looked up at her, his eyes alert. “Yes. Some lett
ers needed my attention.”

  “From Pemberley?” she guessed.

  Darcy nodded. “Yes, there are many things to deal with at this time of the year on an estate such as Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth walked to the desk, looking at the many papers and documents. “I have kept you from your responsibilities for a long time.”

  “I have an excellent staff. I managed to run the estate from afar when I was in the last year at the university, and my father was too ill and tired to take care of matters by himself,” Darcy explained.

  Neither spoke for some time when Darcy suddenly stood up to close the door.

  Elizabeth faced him and began to speak uneasily with her eyes downcast. “Mr. Darcy, I want to apologize to you. I should not have slapped you. ”

  “Elizabeth, it is I who should apologize and beg for your forgiveness. You had every right to defend yourself, especially when I forced myself upon you so roughly,” he spoke gravely.

  She sighed audibly before she lifted her eyes at him, speaking worriedly. “But still I cannot believe I could have reacted so violently. I have never hit anyone in my life.”

  “How is your hand?”

  She looked at him in bewilderment. “How do you know?”

  He took her hand in his, probing gently her wrist. “It is easy to hurt yourself if you do not know how to hit properly.”

  Elizabeth shook her head and spoke unbelievably in a lighter tone. “You are telling me that you have fought in the past? I cannot believe that.”

  “Oh, yes. I did. I was much the same as all boys my age. Richard and his brother were worthy opponents. They taught me how to protect myself when I was quite young. Does the hand bother you?”

  “A little, but what about your cheek?” Elizabeth asked tentatively, stroking his face.

  “It did not hurt so much as you intended, I am afraid,” he said, stopping her hand on his face and kissing the inside of it tenderly.

  “I am relieved to hear it,” she assured. After a moment of hesitation she added. “Would you please explain to me once again why you acted like that yesterday? You said you were jealous of Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I was merely talking about him with his own mother. He was not even there.”

  Darcy dropped her hand and walked over to the window, staring out of it. “It infuriates me when you mention my cousin on any occasion,” he confessed, his voice calm, but somehow resigned and tired.

  “But he is your family, he is Georgiana’s guardian, and I have always thought there was a sincere friendship between you.”

  “That is all true, but to be perfectly honest with you, I must confess that I cannot help but think that…I imagine you care for him more than you do for me. And if the circumstances were different, you would prefer to marry him instead.”

  Elizabeth walked behind him, trying to get his attention, and she spoke in a determined voice. “I do like him. He is a very amiable and caring gentleman who has been very kind to me, but there is nothing more to it. I barely know him.”

  “Yes, that may be true, but when I proposed to you, you said the same, that you barely know me as well.”

  “I am not in love with your cousin,” she said evenly.

  Darcy turned to her slowly. “Perhaps, but every time you say his name it reminds me how animated you were in his company in Kent. How you ignored me back then, how you rejected my help when we travelled to London, yet at the same time accepted his.”

  “I was angry at you. I did it to spite you, not because I had feelings for your cousin,” Elizabeth explained, her voice growing impatient. “I really cannot imagine how our marriage is to work if you react like this every time I mention some other man in your presence.”

  “Elizabeth, you must have realized by now that I am possessive and jealous by nature. I know you do not love me, and I am afraid that you will easily fall in love with some other man.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them, to speak quietly. “Mr. Darcy, I…” she paused, her eyes searching his face. “I think it is a high time for me to stop calling you Mr. Darcy when we are alone.” She smiled. “You use my first name, and I would like to do the same. But your Christian name is so formal, not to mention quite long.”

  Darcy smiled helplessly and raised his brows, saying.“I loved my mother very much, I was heartbroken when she died, but I could never guess why she had chosen such a name for me. She never used it herself. She always called me William.”

  “William. I like it. It suits you, William,” she whispered, looking warmly at him.

  “Come with me. I want to give you something,” Darcy cried suddenly, taking her hand in his and leading her out of the room and up the staircase.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, but he only flashed her a smile and accelerated his pace.

  When they reached the first floor, Elizabeth looked around curiously as she had not been upstairs since her stay at Netherfield during Jane’s illness last autumn. Soon they stopped in front of the one of the rooms. Darcy opened the door confidently, letting her inside.

  “Is it you room?” she asked shyly.

  “Yes, it is. Wait here for me for a moment,” he said, kissing her lightly on the lips and disappearing into the adjacent room, which obviously had to be his dressing room.

  Elizabeth glanced around the room, searching for some signs of Darcy’s presence, but there was nothing particular in there which could indicate that a man inhabited it. She thought that he must be very tidy indeed, or his valet was most diligent in his duties.

  Darcy quickly returned to her, holding something in his hand.

  “I have wanted to give this you for a long time, but I was not sure; I did not want to impose even more on you…” he said, opening the box which contained a beautiful, but simple, ring.

  “It was my mother’s. Would you care to wear it?” he asked hopefully.

  “Oh, William!” she gasped, touching the ring tentatively. “It is beautiful. I feel honoured. Thank you.”

  Darcy removed the ring from the box and put it gently on her finger. “You see, it fits perfectly.” He grinned at her. “My mother had such small hands, just like you.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to wear it,” she said, raising herself to kiss his cheek.

  He hugged her to him, whispering into her hair. “Only last night, I thought it was the end of the world for me.”

  Elizabeth freed herself gently from his arms, and looking up at him, spoke earnestly. “Well, I think that it has turned out only for the better. We have talked, and I think I understand you better now. It seems that both of us have the propensity to show our worst possible behaviour to each other. Will you not agree?”

  He stroked her cheek tenderly. “At least we are sincere. I abhor disguise and pretence. I know you will always tell me how you feel.”

  “Well, I think you can count on it.” she said, smiling mischievously.

  He leaned in and started kissing her, as Elizabeth noticed instantly, somehow differently from the way he had done before. She closed her eyes and let herself surrender to the feeling of his lips on hers.

  Tightening her arms around his neck, she kissed him back, shyly at first. He brought her closer to him, one of his arms keeping her to him steadily, the other on her cheek, angling her face gently.

  She moaned as his tongue probed the inside of her mouth. Soon she was not sure what felt better, the kiss itself, the sensation of his hard body pressed against her own, or perhaps his hand moving slowly down her neck, his fingertips stroking the skin on her collarbone, then the shoulder and arm, which was mostly left uncovered by the short sleeve of her thin summer dress.

  His lips moved from hers, down her cheek as he pressed small kisses on her neck. The hand which was previously stroking her arm now rested on the underside of her right breast. Elizabeth moaned again and clung to him almost desperately, trying to get closer. He helped by her wrapping his arm around her, lifting her up against him.

  Their faces at one
level, she began nibbling eagerly at his earlobe, raking her fingers through his curls. At some point Darcy put his other hand on her back, pressing her lower body firmly to his. Elizabeth stiffened immediately, stopping her attack on his ear. Something very hard and stiff was poking directly at her lower abdomen. He held her to him for a few more seconds, breathing harshly before he put her down on the floor, stepping decidedly from her.

  Elizabeth could barely look at him, but she could not stop herself and glanced quickly at the front of his trousers. Her eyes rounded and her mouth went slightly agape.

  She heard Darcy murmuring excuses, before he stepped hastily into the dressing room, closing the door after himself. Elizabeth stood in the middle of the room for some time before she walked slowly to the door behind which he had disappeared. It was quiet there, but she thought she could hear some muffled sounds.

  She knocked lightly. “William?” she asked tentatively, but there was no answer. She knocked again. “William. Are you well?”

  “Yes. I shall come in a minute. Wait for me there,” he answered in a strange, clipped voice.

  Elizabeth moved away from the door, sitting on the bed. The door opened a couple of minutes later. He looked his own self again. His curls were neatly combed, his neck cloth at which she had tugged impatiently to get the better access to his neck, precisely tied again, and the whole rest of him was looking normal as well, except that he seemed to wear different trousers, darker ones.

  She approached him, catching his hands into hers. “You are well?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are not sick?”

  “No. What happened is perfectly natural for men in general when certain circumstances occur.”

  “Oh.” Her eyebrows went up high on her forehead. “And what happened exactly?”

  “Something which should not happen again before we are husband and wife. I let myself get carried away.”

  “It is because of how I have acted? Was I too brazen? Was it my fault?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” He smiled down at her. “But you have done nothing wrong. I am more than pleased that you react to me like this, but we should be more careful in the future. Do not fret yourself over this. I shall see to it that such a situation is not to happen until we are married.”