“And what do you think? The only woman outside of his party whom he asked to dance was Lizzy, and need I tell you what your ungrateful child did?”
Mr. Bennet had not even the time to draw a breath.
“She flatly refused to stand up with him! Can you imagine turning down the richest man in Derbyshire?!”
“Did you now, Lizzy?” he asked of her.
“I told you I would not dance, Papa.”
“Mr. Darcy. Is that not the same gentleman whom you met in London five years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Charlotte thought he had gained your interest,” interjected Jane. “She mentioned that you inquired about him.”
Elizabeth’s colour slightly reddened. “I . . . it was just that . . . well . . . I was surprised to see him again after so long a time.”
This prompted Jane to disclose another of Charlotte’s bits of information. “He also managed to engage you in conversation, a feat Charlotte was unable to accomplish no matter what choice of subject she attempted.”
This drew no response from Elizabeth other than a deepening of her already flushed colour.
Charlotte should learn to mind her own business, thought Elizabeth.
Jane looked over to her father and between them passed a look that could only be described as conspiratorial.
“I am sure it is just as well,” stated Mrs. Bennet. “For we know nothing would come of it anyway. Perhaps you, Lydia, or even you, Kitty, might be fortunate enough to gain his attention. Yes, we must find some opportunity to display you both to your very best advantage while he is still in the neighbourhood!”
Lydia and Kitty looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Neither was interested in any gentleman who did not possess a red coat. And it was rumoured that soon Meryton would be filled with such gentlemen.
********
“Well, you have to admit, it was an amusing evening,” declared Caroline as the Netherfield party returned home to their parlour. Darcy immediately went for the decanter of brandy and poured out two glasses, offering one to Bingley.
“I found it quite enchanting. I never met pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life—Miss Bennet especially!”
“Of course we knew you would find someone who would please you, Brother, but what of you Mr. Darcy? Have none of the Hertfordshire ladies managed to please you?” asked Mrs. Hurst.
“It was not my intention to be pleased. I merely went as a courtesy to my host.”
“Oh? Did I not see you speak with Miss Bennet’s sister?” asked Caroline. “Miss Eliza, is it not? You seemed much engrossed in conversation,” she teased. “Should Miss Marston be alerted that she has competition, Mr. Darcy?” she asked, hoping she might glean some information regarding his feelings towards the young debutante he had been seen squiring about London.
Darcy avoided the subject of Miss Marston entirely.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I met several years ago, and I was merely acknowledging our past acquaintance.”
“At least you had the good sense not to dance with her. The last thing you would want is to raise her expectations.”
Darcy said nothing, not wishing to reveal Miss Elizabeth’s refusal, as it would only encourage further disparaging comments from Miss Bingley.
“The poor girl must be socially inept, as no one seemed inclined to dance with her,” chided Caroline as she sat upon the settee in what she hoped was her most attractive pose.
Bingley gave a sideways nervous glance towards his sister. When he had informed Miss Bennet that he intended to ask for Miss Elizabeth’s company for the next set, she had confided in him her sister’s vow not to dance this evening, giving a guarded explanation as to the reason why.
He had not offered this intelligence to the rest of his party as he felt honour bound to preserve Miss Bennet’s faith in his discretion.
“And the mother!” continued Caroline with a roll of her eyes. Caroline and Mrs. Hurst shared a contemptible snicker as they continued in this vein of conversation.
Darcy took his drink and walked towards the fireplace. He reached for a poker and mindlessly stirred the ashes which momentarily brought the flames back to life. Ah yes, yet another one of his useful ploys—this one designed to discourage infringement upon his thoughtful contemplations.
As he stared into the fire, his mind shut out the conversation around him, and he thought about Miss Elizabeth. Why would a young attractive woman attend a dance if she had no intention of dancing, not even with the richest man in Derbyshire?
She had not even allowed him to escort her to her carriage and looked as if she would rather place her hand in the flames of the fire into which he now stared, than place it on his arm. But the look she gave him was not one of abhorrence, but more of fear. He was certain that the young girl he had met five years ago would not have been afraid of anything. What had happened to change that? She was indeed a puzzle.
Tonight when he had first laid eyes upon her, he felt an odd reaction, as if not only his mind had recognized her but his heart had also, causing a sudden unexpected stirring in that part of him which was usually dormant.
He wondered if they would be often in each other’s company during his stay at Netherfield so that he might learn more about her. Yes, an entertaining diversion—a mystery to solve before he returned to London and Miss Marston.
But as he thought upon their last moments together, she had not said goodnight to him, but rather goodbye as if she was certain they would not meet again.
********
Mr. Bennet tried to be optimistic as Jane revealed to him all she had observed and learned from Charlotte about the night of the Assembly. At least Elizabeth had shown some reaction to the appearance of Mr. Darcy. He knew he was grasping at straws, but Mr. Darcy had been the last person that his daughter had shown any interest in, all those years ago. Could some attention from this young man help his Lizzy regain some of her confidence?
It was worth a try. But what now? She had refused to go to the party at Lucas Lodge which Mr. Darcy had attended and, because of his promise to her, he had not forced her to go.
As the family sat around the breakfast table, Hill, the family maid, entered with a newly delivered letter.
“It is for you, Jane,” said Mrs. Bennet with a trill of excitement in her voice. “It is from Netherfield!”
Impatient at Jane’s admiring the vellum stationery rather than reading the message it contained, Mrs. Bennet snatched it from Jane’s hand and skimmed it quickly to reveal that it was from Miss Bingley, inviting her to dinner. Unfortunately the gentlemen were to dine with the officers and would not be in attendance.
When Jane requested the carriage from her father, she was informed by her mother that she must go on horseback, for it looked like rain and she would most likely have to spend the night.
Jane was quite shocked by her mother’s scheme, but Mrs. Bennet thought it quite reasonable, for why would she travel all the way to Netherfield without seeing Mr. Bingley?
As if ordained by Mrs. Bennet, the sky opened up and a drenched Jane arrived at Netherfield.
That evening a note was dispatched to Longbourn, informing the family that Jane had indeed taken ill and would remain at Netherfield until she was sufficiently recovered.
Though this information caused some distress amongst Mr. Bennet and his four daughters, Mrs. Bennet looked quite pleased with herself.
At the breakfast table the following morning, Mr. Bennet peered over his newspaper and addressed Elizabeth.
“Perhaps you should go to Netherfield and attend your sister,” he suggested. “I know she would do the same for you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth looked up at her father. “I am sure she is being well looked after, Papa.”
“Perhaps we should send Kitty or Lydia,” suggested Mrs. Bennet, as the wheels began to spin in her mind. “What a fortuitous opportunity for one of them to spend some time in Mr. Darcy’s company! This is turning out even better than I had
planned!”
This declaration caused quite a stir as neither daughter wished to go to Netherfield. Their ambition was to walk to Meryton in hopes of seeing the officers. It also did not bode well with Mr. Bennet, and he immediately put a stop to his wife’s machinations.
“We will give Jane a day or two to recover,” he said. “When she is well enough to travel, I shall go and bring her home myself.”
Elizabeth eyed her father curiously. Although she loved him with all her heart, she had to admit he had never been an overly attentive father, and he had most definitely never interfered with any of his wife’s schemes. Oh, he would vex her incessantly, but he would always end up yielding to her demands.
Now he seemed to be exercising his authority as both father and husband. His forceful handling of this morning’s situation was quite surprising. He had flatly dismissed his wife’s suggestion that Kitty or Lydia travel to Netherfield to attend their sister. And even though no one truly believed Jane’s illness was of a serious nature, he had agreed to travel to Netherfield himself to see her safely returned to Longbourn.
But what was even more surprising had been his insistence that she attend the Meryton Assembly. She could not recall in her entire life a time that her father had commanded her to do anything. Her mind was still reeling that he had so completely disregarded her feelings in the matter.
As much as she had persisted in her reluctance to attend the Assembly, she had to admit she was not unhappy to have seen Mr. Darcy again; the sight of him had caused a mixture of emotions to stir inside her. To see the man she had fantasized about for five years suddenly standing before her in the flesh had all but taken her breath away. But the fear that had enveloped her at the thought of his discovering her defect had diminished the pleasure considerably.
Over the years, she had spent a great deal of time indulging her curiosity about the man, wondering if he had perhaps grown fat and balding. She smiled to herself. No, indeed, he had not. If anything, he was even more handsome than she had remembered. He now had a maturity and command of presence that would make any female swoon.
Could he not have acquired at least one imperfection?
Well, at least, he had not learned of her imperfection; she would not have to bear his pity. It was a small consolation, but she would let herself be content with that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once again, Mr. Bennet descended his carriage and did his best to prepare himself for his new mission at Netherfield. A compromise had been agreed upon, and he was accompanied by his daughter Lydia. Mrs. Bennet had insisted that at least one of her daughters be exposed to Mr. Darcy’s company, and since it would only be for an afternoon’s duration, Mr. Bennet had consented.
He was greeted more formally this time, and the housekeeper led them into the parlour as she announced their arrival.
As he entered the room, Jane tried to hide her surprise at seeing him. Had her trifling cold pried him from his library and brought him all the way to Netherfield? If anyone, she had expected to see her mother burst into the room. The sight of Lydia, however, did not surprise her in the least, as she was sure her mother had insisted that her youngest daughter accompany their father. She only hoped that Lydia would subdue her normal enthusiasm and behave in a ladylike manner.
Mr. Bennet and Lydia were greeted by Miss Bingley, and upon his introduction to Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet observed him very carefully. He would only have a scant hour or two to form his opinion of the young man.
“You look well, Jane. I would hardly think you had been ill at all,” stated Mr. Bennet.
“Yes,” said Caroline “She has received every possible attention.”
“Indeed, she has been well looked after, I assure you,” said Bingley. “Mr. Jones was sent for as soon as she was taken ill, and he prescribed something for her cold. She has much improved, but perhaps she should be allowed to remain here to recuperate a few days longer.”
Mr. Bennet thanked them both for their benevolence but assured them that Mrs. Bennet was all eagerness to care for her daughter. “It is a comfort to know she has an affectionate mother to attend her.”
Lydia’s eye roll went undetected.
After tea was served and some polite conversation had been exchanged, Lydia boldly reminded Mr. Bingley of the promise he had made at Lucas Lodge to give a ball at Netherfield as soon as he was settled.
“It would be a great scandal if you do not keep your word,” she admonished.
“I am perfectly ready to keep my pledge,” stated Mr. Bingley, and it was agreed that as soon as Miss Bennet was fully recovered, Lydia should name the date.
Their visit was soon coming to an end, and as Miss Bingley and Lydia helped Jane recover her possessions from the bedroom upstairs, Mr. Bennet looked over at Mr. Darcy. It was now or never; he must decide.
“I wonder if I might take a few moments of your time, Mr. Darcy. There is a matter I would like to discuss with you in private.”
Darcy was unable to conceal his look of surprise at such a request. “Certainly, Mr. Bennet; I am at your disposal, sir.”
Bingley gave a perplexed look to his friend but graciously made his excuses. “I will go see to your carriage, Mr. Bennet. Please feel free to use my study.”
As the two gentlemen entered the room, Mr. Bennet’s unease was apparent.
“I find myself in a very unusual circumstance, Mr. Darcy, as I have a most peculiar request to make of you.”
Darcy looked curiously at the gentleman and gave a short nod of his head as he gestured towards the chair across from the desk. Mr. Bennet looked at it briefly as if considering it.
“It is in regard to one of my daughters.”
Darcy took the seat behind the desk and waited for Mr. Bennet to continue. He was feeling uncomfortable as he was not one to grant favours to passing acquaintances, especially favours that involved a daughter. But the gentleman certainly had his full attention.
Mr. Bennet decided against the chair and moved towards the window. He looked out at the view and was silent for a moment as he mentally gathered his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and reflective.
“My second eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was always a confident and spirited girl; perhaps, at times, a little too spirited, but it was a trait she wore well.”
Upon hearing the name Elizabeth, Darcy’s interest intensified.
“She was always very out-going and loved . . . well she loved just about everything: walking, riding, visiting her friends and dancing, especially dancing. All that changed about five years ago. She was involved in a rather serious carriage accident. Her right leg was badly mangled, and she has suffered through two operations and years of painful treatments. She endured all of this because she believed that one day she would be able to walk normally again. But about a year ago, Dr. Graham informed her that he and his team of physicians had done everything possible and that she would always walk with a limp.”
“I’m afraid I do not dance, Mr. Darcy.” Her words suddenly flooded back to him.
He stared at Mr. Bennet’s profile at the window. He had stopped to compose himself, and Darcy could see the emotion on his face.
“I, of course, think she is perfect,” he continued, his voice raspy. “But Elizabeth believes she is now somehow unworthy of any gentleman’s attentions. She keeps to herself most of the time, reading or embroidering—any activity that allows her to stay inside the house and by herself. She attended the Meryton Assembly only at my insistence. I have given her my word that I will not force her into another social situation.”
Darcy thought of Georgiana and how her confidence had been shattered because of the events that had taken place at Ramsgate last summer. He knew exactly how Mr. Bennet felt: to love someone so much and yet be powerless to help them. But he still did not know how he could help Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Mr. Bennet turned from the window and looked at the young man. “She believes any kindness is given out of pity and that no man could ever
want her the way she is.”
Darcy then reflected upon her every feature: her intelligent brown eyes with their radiant flecks of amber, her perfect nose, the luscious curve of her full lips, and the rich brown curls that perfectly framed all of that delicate loveliness.
Darcy’s gaze did not falter; his eyes stayed steadfastly on Mr. Bennet’s.
“I see you are wondering what plan I might have in mind and what part you might play.”
“Those were my thoughts exactly, sir.”
Mr. Bennet took a deep breath. He hesitated for a moment, knowing what he was about to ask was high handed and risky, that it could have the exact reverse effect on his daughter than the one for which he hoped. But he could think of no other way to help the daughter that he loved so dearly.
“I would like you to call on Elizabeth.”
For several moments, an uncomfortable silence filled the air. Fitzwilliam Darcy had been approached by many matchmaking mamas of the ton in his seven and twenty years who obliquely hinted that he call upon their daughters in the hopes of matrimony; however, he could not believe that Mr. Bennet would actually make such a distasteful suggestion.
“Are you asking me to court your daughter?”
“I am asking only that you befriend her, to show her that she has qualities that would interest even a man of your consequence. Oh, do not worry, Mr. Darcy; Elizabeth is an intelligent young woman. She is well aware of the limitations society has put upon our dissimilar social classes. But perhaps with her confidence bolstered, she might at least consider that some gentleman of her own station might come to love her, that she is not defined by her impediment.”
Darcy gave this much thought.
“You know nothing of my character, sir. Would you take such a gamble with your daughter’s reputation as to allow her my companionship?”
“Mr. Darcy, I have sat idly by for some time now and watched as my daughter’s spirit has been trampled and crushed. Soon there will nothing left of her but an empty shell. I am willing to take such a risk rather than allow that to happen. That you have expressed concern for her reputation, speaks well of your character.”
The Last Waltz: . . . another pride and prejudice journey of love Page 5
