by K C Kahler
She arrived at the clearing where Mr Darcy paced.
The previous night…
Why would Elizabeth not look at him? Darcy might know what to think if she would just look at him. But she stood there, silently grasping John Lucas’s arm, and she kept her gaze stubbornly lowered as the conversation went on around her. He must apologise for his behaviour on the balcony. Once again, he had put her reputation at risk without knowing her feelings and without confessing his. Yet another opportunity wasted to his inarticulate hesitation.
John Lucas suddenly swept her away before Darcy could even offer. He tortured himself by watching them cross the room together and exit onto the balcony.
At the earliest opportunity, Darcy made his escape. “I shall have another cup of coffee,” he said, but he went not to the coffee but towards the balcony.
As he neared the doors, he also neared Mrs Bennet, who was speaking to Mrs Philips. “Did you see them go onto the balcony? I am sure everything will be just as it should be very soon. It was silly of them not to formalise an engagement before he left.”
“Of course,” said Mrs Philips, “I always knew they were meant for each other. No wonder you had such problems matching her with others. You ought to have saved yourself the trouble.”
“You know, I considered it, but Lizzy would never talk about him in his absence. I think perhaps they fought when he left. No doubt she wanted him to stay. She can hold quite a grudge, my Lizzy. But it was better that he did go, for now he is much richer! And now they can be perfectly happy together, and so near to Jane and Mr Bingley!”
Darcy made himself ignore their continued raptures about the splendid match. He now stood in the doorway of the balcony. John Lucas had his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. Darcy could not bear the sight of it. He stepped back into the drawing room. His breath was much more laboured than it should have been. They could have easily heard him.
Some moments later, Elizabeth came back into the drawing room with her eyes lowered. Darcy began to approach but was immediately halted by a ferocious glare from her companion. Darcy had only ever seen John Lucas with an open, amiable expression; the transformation was stark indeed. Darcy considered his options. He could insist on speaking with her, causing a scene, or he could wait for a more discreet opportunity. Under the circumstances, he must choose the latter.
Darcy was forced to watch the pair for the next hour. John Lucas returned to his cheerful demeanour amongst his neighbours, but Elizabeth never seemed to regain her spirits fully. She never once looked in Darcy’s direction, and she never strayed from her protector’s side. Clearly, she regretted what had almost happened between them. Darcy truly despaired that he had ruined everything.
The guests began to leave, and when the Bennets went to their carriage, Darcy made sure to follow Bingley to see them off. Bingley and Miss Bennet were occupied with each other, leaving Darcy to bid farewell to the rest of the Bennets under the watchful eye of John Lucas. He hardly knew what he said when he bowed to each of them.
Finally, he stood before Elizabeth, praying for some sign from her. She met his gaze as she curtseyed. He could not read anything in it, as if she were purposefully controlling her expression. It made his heart sink.
“Until we meet again, Mr Darcy,” she said.
Thank God! She intended to meet him in the morning as usual. Everything might be set right if he could speak with her. It must be. He did not know what he would do if…
John Lucas handed her into the carriage. Mr Bennet shook his hand, saying, “It is very good to have you back, my boy. Please do not think you require a formal invitation to Longbourn. We are happy to have you any time.”
“Thank you, sir. I shall be sure to take advantage of your hospitality as soon as may be and as often as possible.”
“Then you will certainly see Mr Bingley very often indeed, for he seems to take every meal with us.”
Bingley laughed. “I come for both the food and the company,” he said as Mr Bennet climbed into the carriage.
The Bennet carriage pulled away, leaving the three men standing together near the front door.
“Well, I suppose I shall call for our carriage now that there’s no reason for me to stay any longer. No offence to the Lucases, of course,” Bingley said.
“I quite understand. Miss Bennet deserves such devotion. They all do,” John Lucas replied as he walked past Darcy and climbed the stairs. “There is nothing I would not do for those girls.”
Darcy knew those parting words were a warning of sorts. Obviously, Elizabeth had regretted their near-kiss and confessed something of it to John Lucas, who then took up a protective stance against Darcy. In the morning, he must convince her not to regret it. He must win her.
Back at Netherfield, he eschewed the temptation of drowning his worries in brandy so that he might have a clear head in the morning. Instead, he thought of what he wanted to say to her. He would never make a more important speech.
* * *
Darcy halted his pacing the moment Elizabeth came into the clearing. She curtseyed and he moved to greet her. “Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me—”
“Mr Darcy,” she interrupted. “I cannot stay long today, and I must tell you something of import.” Her face and eyes were guarded.
“I shall hear anything you wish to say.”
“Yes, you have listened to me much over the last month. I know my stories diverted you, but I only have a finite number of tales to tell. Continuing to meet in this manner puts both of our reputations at risk, especially now that Mr Lucas is home. He is an avid walker, like myself, and this spot is on his property. He nearly discovered us yesterday, and though there is nothing improper going on, obviously we would wish to avoid a scandal. In any case, you are leaving in a few days…”
Pain and jealousy made Darcy forget his planned speech. “Since it will only be a few more days, I see no harm in continuing as we have been.”
She raised her chin. “I see great potential harm in it. My gratitude to you cannot possibly justify the scandal that would ensue if we were discovered, not to mention the pain caused to those we care for who might misinterpret our…relationship.”
Gratitude? Misinterpret? “Why the change, Miss Elizabeth? Those we care for might have misinterpreted our relationship all along. Now, suddenly, you are overly concerned with your reputation?”
“You are only a visitor here, Mr Darcy, but I shall most likely live here for the rest of my life. Your reckless behaviour might be forgotten or forgiven when you go back to your life. But I have no delusions about how my behaviour would be scorned.” Her voice had risen in anger during the course of her speech.
He took a slow breath, trying to rein in his emotions. “You are right, and I apologise. We, both of us, were behaving recklessly. I should have had more care for the risk to your reputation. But you must know I—”
“Thank you,” she said hastily. “If it were only the two of us involved…but there are others who might be injured by a scandal—our families, our…prior attachments.” She looked at her hands as she picked at the seam in one of her gloves.
“Prior attachments,” he repeated stupidly, feeling a desolation of spirits he had not experienced since his father died. He must pull himself together. She must never know the true extent of his love for her. Surely she guessed after last night, but he would not confirm her suspicions. He did have some pride left.
She smoothed her pelisse and spoke in a businesslike manner. “I hope to see you in company before you leave Hertfordshire, and we are bound to meet in the future when Jane and Mr Bingley…” She trailed off. “I truly am grateful, more grateful than you will ever know. I have come to value your friendship greatly.” She looked up at him with moist eyes.
Gratitude and friendship—Darcy despised them. “I do not wish for nor expect your gratitude.” He found it difficult to speak, but at least his countenance was composed now.
“I know. I wish…I wish every happiness for you an
d your family in the future, Mr Darcy.” There was great emotion in her voice and in her eyes. He was nearly undone again, looking into the fine eyes that had haunted him from the first night at the assembly. They would never look upon him as he wished. Her loving looks would be reserved only for her family and for…Darcy could not finish the thought.
He broke eye contact. “Miss Elizabeth, I have truly enjoyed our time together, not because you entertained me, which you did, but because you are intelligent, generous, and altogether delightful. Any man would be lucky to call you his own.” He barely managed to control his voice. He bowed, whispering. “God bless you,” and turned away towards his horse.
For the first time, Fitzwilliam Darcy left the clearing before she did.
* * *
The first thing he did when he returned from Oakham Stream was destroy the letter he had half-written to Georgiana asking her to come to Netherfield before Christmas. It was a bitter reminder of his dashed hopes. The second thing he did was write a letter to Anne about his heartbreak, his failure. After sealing, addressing, and leaving it to be sent in the post, he turned his attention to his third goal: drinking the contents of the two decanters in his bed chamber. He missed luncheon while undertaking this task.
Now those bottles were empty, and Fitzwilliam Darcy was drunk, but he needed to be drunker still. He stumbled from his chamber, bound for the library and the next available bottle of port, brandy, whiskey, anything to numb this unbearable ache.
The library was occupied by Hurst and Bingley. Darcy went straight to where the libations were kept, grunting his greetings. Hurst whistled.
“Good God, Darcy. It is two in the afternoon!” Bingley pointed out the obvious. “Is this why you skipped luncheon?”
“Were you even here, or were you at Longbourn yet again?”
“I was here, but I am going to Longbourn momentarily. I was about to invite you to come with me. I have reconsidered.”
“Well, go along, then. Your angel awaits.”
“You had better finish your binge today. Hurst and I were just making plans to hunt tomorrow. You should take advantage of the country for what little time you have left in it.”
Darcy made no reply but took a swig from his glass while leaning unevenly on his other arm.
“I’ve a mind to ask that John Lucas to join us. I suspect I may see him at Longbourn today. In any case, I pass near Lucas Lodge every day—”
Darcy groaned belatedly. “Please do not invite him. Wait until I am gone.”
Bingley clucked his tongue. “Do not tell me; let me guess. He smiles too much. No, he enjoys dancing too much. No, he has low connexions.”
“You have covered some of my thoughts.”
“Well, I quite like the chap, and as he is to be an important neighbour to me, I plan to pursue a friendship. You cannot always be lowering yourself to visit me in unfashionable Meryton.”
“No, I cannot.”
“My, but you are a surly drunkard. Hurst, I leave him in your capable hands. Keep him away from Caroline for his own good.”
Hurst laughed. “Indeed.”
Bingley crossed to the door, shaking his head at Darcy. “Gentlemen, my angel awaits,” he said with a flourish as he left.
“Well, old boy, what has you in it?” Hurst motioned for Darcy to sit down.
Darcy lunged for the nearest chair, the contents of his glass sloshing as he did so.
“Hmmm…perhaps you should go back up to your room while you still have the use of your legs.”
Darcy waved his hand at Hurst in dismissal.
“Oh, do not worry, I shall join you and bring up some of those bottles with me. I know when a man is determined. It is better to let him drink his fill than to argue with a surly drunkard.”
“You are a bit of all right, Hurst.”
He smiled. “That’s what my mother always tells me. Now let’s get you upstairs before Caroline discovers you.”
Darcy hefted himself out of the chair, coherent enough to see the wisdom in Hurst’s plan.
Charles Bingley shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of everyone in the room. Blast Darcy for being drunk and not coming here to answer these questions himself! Bingley had been accosted the moment he walked in the door, and he had barely had time to greet Jane, who was looking particularly fetching today. Blast Darcy!
“Miss Lydia, if Mr Collins says he saw the announcement, then I am sure he did. But again, I have no knowledge of an engagement between Darcy and any young lady.” Bingley knew the rumour must be false, but with Mr Collins standing not three feet away and completely convinced of his information, well, what could Bingley say?
“You see, my young cousin, I am in a better position to know the truth of it. I have it from Lady Catherine herself. As I said, Mr Darcy was hesitant to announce the engagement due to a deep concern for Miss de Bourgh’s health. But through Lady Catherine’s wise choice of physician and the utmost attention to details of diet, schedule, temperature, and the like, Miss de Bourgh is vastly improved and able to fulfil her most fortunate lot.”
“But if it is all settled, why hasn’t Mr Darcy confided in his closest friend?” Lydia looked between Bingley and Mr Collins suspiciously.
“That is a question only Mr Darcy can answer.” Bingley said, hoping to put an end to the discussion. This rumour might be the most successful means of discouraging Miss Lydia’s pursuit of Darcy. Therefore, though it painted Darcy in a rather negative light, it was not really harmful if they believed it for a short while until Mr Collins left. Darcy would be livid with his aunt, no doubt.
“We could have asked him if he had accompanied you today.” Mrs Bennet took over the inquisition.
“Mr Darcy was unable to join me, unfortunately.” It was not exactly a lie.
“And when will he be able to tear himself from Netherfield?”
“Mama! Leave poor Mr Bingley alone. He has no control over Mr Darcy’s actions nor his confidences,” Elizabeth said in exasperation. Bingley tried to give her a grateful look, but she had crossed to the window to look up at the blue sky.
Lydia huffed and flounced to the chair Elizabeth had just vacated next to Mr Lucas. “Lizzy, tell John the story of Lady Lucas’s red gown for Maria’s coming out. He was away for all that.”
“No, Lizzy,” groaned Kitty, “please do not tell that one.”
Elizabeth remained silent at the window, but Lydia responded. “Why not, Kitty? Is it because, as usual, you blurted out something rude and injured another person’s feelings?”
“Will you start crying and carrying on again, due to your very deep and abiding love for Mr D—”
“That is quite enough, girls.” Mr Bennet sounded like a man at the end of his tether.
“She started it,” Kitty muttered.
Lydia wished to finish it as well, “We cannot all be as lucky in love as you are, Kitty. There’s only one Henry Long, thank goodness.” Kitty turned a deep shade of red.
Mr Bennet raised his voice. “Behave or remove yourselves! Your petty bickering is not nearly as enjoyable as you think.”
Bingley looked towards Jane in question. Her answering look told him she would explain later. When would they be alone and able to speak freely? Moreover, how much time would he spare for speaking as opposed to other pursuits when such an opportunity arose? Privacy was indeed a precious commodity to the newly engaged.
“Perhaps I shall invite Mrs Long over for tea tomorrow,” Mrs Bennet said to no one in particular. Kitty stood and rushed from the room, followed by Maria Lucas. Lydia snickered.
Mrs Bennet continued as if nothing was amiss. “Tis a pity you are leaving us so early in the morning, Mr Collins.” She did not sound the least bit regretful “But of course, Mr Bingley and Mr Lucas, you must come to take tea with us.”
“Then I suppose I must, Mrs Bennet,” John Lucas said.
“Oh,” Mrs Bennet said with a shake of her finger, “you are a jokester, Mr Lucas. And what about you, Mr Bingley?”
/> Bingley felt rather awkward. “I apologise, but I have plans with Hurst and Darcy for shooting. Hopefully the fine weather will hold, and we shall make a day of it. We wish to give Darcy some country sport before he must go back to London. Mr Lucas, I had meant to ask you to join us…” Blast Darcy.
“I am already engaged, it seems. The two of us will have many more opportunities for sport, I hope, when your friend is gone.”
“Yes, I look forward to it.” That worked out better than Bingley had imagined.
Lydia fidgeted in her chair. “But you must hear that story about your mother’s gown, Mr Lucas. It is ever so funny! Lizzy, you simply must tell it. Kitty will not mind now; she cannot hear you.”
Elizabeth was still standing at the window, silent. Her attitude reminded Bingley of his taciturn friend and his habit of standing apart, removed from conversation. It was a stark contrast to how he had last seen Darcy, inebriated, surly, and a trifle pathetic. What could have set off such a binge? Blast him! Bingley would be worried about him all day.
John Lucas cleared his throat. “You need not concern yourself with my entertainment, Miss Lydia. There will be plenty of time for me to hear all the stories I have missed. But now I must tell you all something. I have written a book.”
Elizabeth turned from the window. “A book? You do not even read books; now you are writing them?”
“As it turns out, I do read books. I read books about real things, not all that nonsense you tried to force on me. Give me a good taxonomic monograph over useless poetry or drama any day.” He smiled charmingly.
Elizabeth put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “‘A good taxonomic monograph?’” she mimicked. “Pray tell, is that what you have written?”
