by Wells, Linda
“No.” He wrinkled his brow. “No, I cannot say, but then I suppose that my powers of observation are not that keen.”
“Did you promise to call on her?”
“Well, no, I did not, we danced the first set, and talked, but then my sisters encouraged me to visit the rest of the room.”
“The first set.” Darcy said softly.
Bingley looked at him worriedly. “Was that an error? I saw her and thought she was pretty and just walked up and introduced myself.”
“Just like that? You just…” Darcy closed his eyes, the behaviour was entirely wrong and he would have to correct Bingley, but he could not deny the fact that he should have done the same, so many times. “Did she dance well?” He asked, again very softly.
“Yes, she was very graceful.” He smiled then puzzled over the wistful expression that appeared in his friend’s eyes.
“She lives in Gracechurch Street.”
“I … I do not know.” Bingley stammered, “How do you know?”
“Oh, I … I just surmised. Her uncle is a tradesman and many live there.” Darcy bit his lip and leaned forward. “Bingley if you should happen to meet her again …” He faltered. What, do what exactly? He glanced up at his parent’s portraits and his shoulders fell along with his hopes. Duty, honour … Remember, you are a Darcy!
“Yes?”
“I would like to hear about it.”
“Of course.” Bingley tilted his head and could not miss the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, despite the frozen features of his face. “Are you well, Darcy?”
“I am.” He sighed. “I have to be.”
“DARCY, I WOULD LIKE YOU TO MEET MISS PATTERSON.” Lady Matlock took his arm and planted him in front of a young woman. “Miss Patterson, this is my nephew, Mr. Darcy.” She nudged him and he smiled slightly and bowed.
“It is a pleasure, miss.”
She spoke breathlessly, “Oh, sir, the pleasure is mine. I have heard so many wonderful things about you!”
“Have you, I hope that they are true and not the result of someone’s imagination?” He glanced at the girl’s mother hovering nearby.
“Why no, unless I am incorrect about your estate, I understand that nothing compares to Pemberley in all of England.” She gushed.
Darcy attempted not to roll his eyes. “That is kind; however, I am sure that any number of men, some in this room, would undoubtedly disagree. I am certain that our monarch would.” Lady Matlock audibly sighed beside him. Darcy bowed and moved away. A woman with a confident smile approached him.
“She is so young Mr. Darcy, was it really necessary to cut her like that?”
He raised his brow at the handsome woman beside him. “Mrs. Webster, I did not cut her, I simply stated a fact.”
“Rather baldly, I thought.” She looped her hands over his forearm. “No matter, she probably did not catch it in any case. Look, see how her mama is scolding her for failing with you?” She smiled up at him. “You are quite the man to catch this Season.”
He attempted to remove her hand from his arm but she was not giving him up. “I am aware of the attention, madam and do not welcome it.”
“Not from naive little girls, but perhaps from a woman of experience?” She raised her brow. “Perhaps, you could show me some of the books in your uncle’s library? I imagine it is quite private there?” Her gaze was direct and she brushed her breasts against his arm. There was no question what the widow was offering.
Darcy clamped down on the visceral reaction that betrayed his body, but not before she noticed, and smiled in welcome. “It would be rude to leave my aunt’s dinner prematurely madam; however you are certainly welcome to go peruse the shelves alone.” He detached the clutching hand and moved swiftly away, heading for the balcony and the cool night breeze. Closing his eyes he held onto the railing.
“Not interested, Cousin?” Fitzwilliam followed him outside and leaning against the railing, folded his arms and looked back into the crowded room. “She certainly has a great deal to offer. Widowed at two and twenty, how very sad, and a tidy bit of money will come with her. Perhaps I’ll have a go at her.” He chuckled and nudged Darcy, whose head was hanging down. “What is it?”
“I know her name.”
“Mrs. Webster? It is Marion, I believe.”
“No. Lizzy.”
Fitzwilliam turned sharply. “Lizzy? Lizzy of the park, Lizzy of the races, Lizzy of the museum, Lizzy of Stewart? That Lizzy?”
“Yes. Elizabeth Bennet. That is her name. She is in town, and …she danced with Bingley a week ago.” Darcy looked up at him. “What am I to do?”
“Do? About what? She is a daydream, a fantasy. You cannot have her. Damn it man, you let her go!”
He shook his head. “No, I fooled myself into thinking that.”
“You have never spoken to her! For all you know, she is …” Fitzwilliam waved his arms at the crowded room, and at the young women peering out at them. “She could be worse than all of these women combined!”
“No, Richard.” He looked at him. “Stewart fell for her, Bingley calls her an angel, I …I have seen her, heard her …”
“So, do you have the courage to go against society and call on her? Stewart caved in to reality.” Darcy looked up at him and Fitzwilliam saw the torment in his eyes. “All right, here is what I propose. Before you make such a spectacular move as appearing on her doorstep; and possibly unwanted by the way, you need to make damn sure that none of those ladies of society who are so eager to meet you are what you want.”
“Must I meet them all?” Darcy said angrily. “I am already aware of what they are!”
“You have met only a few. We have only been back here eight days! It is only the beginning of April! Give the Season a chance. Surely there is a woman …”
“Better, more appropriate, with a dowry and a pedigree to match.” Darcy said dully.
“I am not saying that Miss Bennet is not the woman for you, but I want you to know with your mind and your heart this decision, and not simply react with your loins.”
“Take that back, Richard!” He growled.
“You are a man, Darcy. It is not a subject that is far away from any of our minds, and you would be a hypocrite to say so.” He hung his head again, remembering his automatic response to Mrs. Webster’s unwelcome suggestions. Fitzwilliam sighed. “Look, Father would demand the same if he knew of this.”
His head snapped up. “You will not tell him!”
“No, I will keep your confidence. But I do want you to be sure of your decision.”
“And what if in the meantime, some man comes along and takes her away?” Darcy met his eyes.
“Then you will move on.” Richard grasped his shoulder. “Come on, let us return, you have work to do.”
“CHARLES, WHEN WILL WE MEET MR. DARCY?” Caroline asked and followed her brother into the study. “I think that it is only proper that we meet the man who is guiding your entrance into society.”
Bingley sighed. “I told you that I invited him here for dinner after my levee.”
“But should we not be acquainted before then? I propose some other social event, perhaps we could meet for tea tomorrow.”
“Caroline, Darcy is a very busy man; he generously gives me his time. I will not ask for more of it.”
“I was only thinking that we could be more comfortable with each other at dinner if we had already met for tea. And perhaps we could advance my friendship with him as well! Would it not be a fine match for your sister?” She smiled and tilted her chin.
“It would be exceptional; however I will not suggest it.” He braced himself for the reaction.
Her eyes flashed and she screeched. “NO? Do you think that I am not good enough for him? He is obviously looking for a wife.”
“Caroline, he is simply meeting the requirements of the Season with his socializing. I will not press him on this subject. He receives enough demands from his family.”
“What does his fami
ly want from him?”
“The same as ours, I suspect. He now owns the estate, and they want it to be secured with its heir.” He sighed and took her hands in his. “The business of being a gentleman addresses a variety of requirements. Once I have been presented and begin attending the functions in his circle, I have no doubt that I will learn of a great many areas where I am woefully deficient. No, Caroline, I will not promote you to him. If he meets you and expresses interest; that is a different story.”
Caroline did not like what she heard but thought it was best not to push her brother further. “Will you at least ask him to include your family in his invitations to the first circles?” She smiled and raised her brow. “If I am not to press Mr. Darcy, perhaps there is a gentleman of his level in want of a wife.”
“Perhaps.” Bingley considered her for a moment. “Have you had any callers? I have not checked the cards lately.”
“Of course I have had callers!” She huffed.
“Gentlemen?” He asked with raised brows, and saw her flush. “None?”
“Not precisely, Mr. Rycroft paid a called yesterday.”
“He is that gentleman with a small estate in Buckingham?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Charles, really! He is lesser even than Mr. Hurst! Surely you want more for me?”
“Of course I do Caroline. I only fear that your aspiration to find a husband in the first circles is unlikely.”
“It is unlikely if you do nothing to promote me!”
Bingley shook his head, arguing with his sister was always a losing proposition and he would rather just walk away. “Caroline, I cannot help you if you refuse to accept the attentions of gentlemen who genuinely express interest. Now I must be off. Have a pleasant afternoon.” He kissed her cheek and gratefully escaped the room. I must ask Darcy for advice on finding her a suitor.
18 APRIL 1809
I am without words. No, that is incorrect, I have words but I choose not to use them. Bingley’s boundless enthusiasm and joy left me ill-prepared for meeting his sisters tonight. Thinking back, I should have been. His little anecdotes of Miss Bingley certainly never impressed me, and obviously her behaviour towards Lizzy gave me no reason to like her. However, I left St. James’s after his levee, feeling very proud of his accomplishment and ready to share the joy of the day with what had to be a very happy family, to be almost instantly smothered with attention from Miss Bingley.
Her manners were impeccable, but I could not help to notice how the servants jumped at her voice or grimaced with her orders. It was eerily similar to the servants’ behaviour at Rosings. But worst of all was from the moment I walked into the parlour Miss Bingley was by my side, offering refreshments, complimenting my townhouse, my estate, my carriage, my sister, my suit, boots, the way I sipped my tea, my choice of dessert, my God I could go on and on. And even that was not so intolerable, annoying, but certainly familiar after these past months in town, certainly every woman I meet wishes to stroke my self-opinion, but then she began the comments on the members of society.
She has never met these people and yet she was full of knowledge, intimate details, whether true or imagined I have no idea, but the woman gossiped with an annoying superiority and disturbing familiarity that I found distasteful and oddly fascinating. She was an expert at all things, and almost desperate to cling to me and show off what she considered to be her assets. I could not leave fast enough. I understand now why there have been no gentlemen clamouring for her dowry, although I am certainly aware of men as shallow as she who would be willing to meet her. The problem I fear is that she fancies herself above them and would reject them out of hand. Her sights are set for the first circles and nothing less will do. I must be careful around her and be sure not to encourage her in any way.
Her sister Mrs. Hurst is a gossip of the first order as well, but at least she had the sense to marry appropriately. Hurst is an indolent lout from what I could see, nonetheless, he is a gentleman and a step up for their family. When his father dies, I hope that he employs a good steward or the estate will quickly fall to ruin. I cannot say that I have not met people of their ilk in my level of society; however, it is certainly clear that the Bingley family has a great deal of work to do before being accepted there. If it were not for my friendship with Bingley, I would never dream of associating with such people. Unfortunately they come as a part of the bargain of knowing him, so on Sunday I will take Georgiana and meet them at Kensington Gardens. I can only imagine what fawning my poor sister will receive from the ambitious Miss Bingley.
Darcy closed his journal and blew out the candles on his desk, then wearily walked up the stairs, Caroline’s overwhelming attention still causing his mind to wonder. How can three children come from the same parents and turn out to be such polar opposites? Perhaps that was the difference between raising boys and girls. He mused to himself and thought of Georgiana, they were alike but different, but he had the benefit of a loving mother for nearly eleven years and she did not, and she would be shaped by the loss of her father as well. No wonder she clung to him so tightly. At last he let his mind wander to Elizabeth. You would not be like Miss Bingley, would you, Lizzy?
23 APRIL 1809
Uncle took us to Kensington Gardens today after church, they are adjacent to Hyde Park and the entire way there I was hoping that somehow we would be refused admittance and I would then propose to walk in the park instead. It was silly and foolish of me to think of such a thing. I know that both Jane and Aunt looked at me with great concern so I obviously displayed my anxiety.
Upon arriving though we were naturally admitted to the gardens and they were everything that I had hoped to see. We wandered the paths, admiring the landscaping and admittedly watching in wonder the very finely dressed people strolling with us. Aunt had insisted that we wear one of our new gowns for the occasion, and after my memory of that man who looked at me from head to toe with disdain last year, I did not protest the suggestion at all.
We walked for nearly an hour when I noticed a tall man walking with a group of people, two other men, two women, and a girl. I just knew that it was Mr. Darcy. It was difficult to remain where I was. I was certain that the smaller man speaking animatedly to the girl was Mr. Bingley, and as we are acquainted, I could reasonably greet the party, but just as I considered doing so, one of the women stepped beside Mr. Darcy and took his arm. She looked up at him and he down at her, she held him in such a familiar way. Then I realized that the woman was Miss Bingley. How natural it would be for Mr. Darcy to fall in love with his friend’s sister? It would have lowered my opinion of him to be taken in by such a wretched woman, but I supposed it was understandable. Just as my dream burst as all dreams do upon a rude awakening, I saw Mr. Darcy firmly remove Miss Bingley’s hand from his arm, then step over to his sister to claim hers. I laughed out loud and I know that my family thought me odd, but I do not care. My good opinion of Mr. Darcy remains. He showed himself to be a man of good sense. The path they took was different from ours, and I lost them in the trees, but I felt good for seeing him once more.
“How am I ever to forget you?” Elizabeth blew out her candle and climbed into her bed.
MR. GARDINER AND JANE led the way and Elizabeth followed slowly as they window shopped in the fashionable part of town. They were in search of a birthday gift for Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth had seen nothing of the items on display. Instead she was lost in thought about the events of the past week. Two nights she had joined her family at dinners. There had been a few unmarried men, but as usual, Jane drew them like flies while she was left to smile and laugh, and attempted to attract them with her conversation. More often than not, she found that the men’s eyes glazed over when she spoke of anything more challenging than the weather. I do not know the topics that interest these men. Perhaps I should ask Aunt for ideas. I just do not understand. I can speak to Uncle about so many subjects, and he does not seem to mind. Does that make him unusual? Mr. Stewart did not mind my
conversation, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. Maybe tradesmen wish to talk of different things than gentlemen. What is wrong with me? I do not seem to fit in anywhere! She blinked back tears that pricked her eyes. What would Mr. Darcy be like? Would he like me as Mr. Stewart did or walk away as these others do? She shook her head and chastised herself. “You really must stop dreaming of him. It is impossible.”
“What is impossible, Lizzy?” Mr. Gardiner smiled and looked over to her.
“Nothing, Uncle.” She blushed and noticed a bookshop. “May we stop in here?”
“Certainly!” He called ahead to Jane, “Lizzy wishes to look at the books.”
“Oh of course she does!” Jane smiled. “I think that we should just leave her here and go to a tea shop; she will take no notice of our absence.”
“I am not that terrible!”
“Lizzy, when your nose is in a book, you are deaf and blind to the world!” Jane laughed.
“That is true.” Mr. Gardiner nudged her and Elizabeth shrugged and smiled. They entered and immediately Elizabeth paused and breathed in the scent of parchment and leather. “I believe that we have lost her already!”
She wandered off to the back of the shop where the poetry was kept and Mr. Gardiner and Jane stayed in the front, examining a display of books meant to catch a lady’s eye. She slowly strolled past the shelves, looking up at the titles and nearly tripped over a man kneeling on the floor. “Oh, pardon me, sir!”
“No, no, it is my fault.” He stood and turned to smile. “Miss Bennet!”
“Mr. Bingley, what a pleasant surprise!” Elizabeth smiled warmly at him. “Are you in search of something in particular to drive you to the floor?”
Grinning widely he shook his head in mock despair. “Oh, Miss Bennet, I have no idea what to purchase. I am not a reader, but I must purchase a gift for my advisor. He sponsored me at court and he is so self-effacing, he will not hear of my thanking him incessantly as I wish.” He laughed. “Neither would he hear of me apologizing for nearly destroying his carriage’s cushions with that sword I had to wear.”
“He seems to be a very supportive man.” Elizabeth said softly.
