A Very Austen Valentine

by Robin Helm

  “I do. Keep it up.”

  “If Elizabeth is developing feelings for me, I should propose.”

  “No!” He shook his head. “If you do that now, you might ruin everything. Have patience, for goodness sakes. Continue wooing her. Ladies love to be courted — it shows them you are committed for a lifetime. And it gives them a good story to tell their children and grandchildren when it is their turn to court or be courted.”

  “Patience?” He slumped against the back of the chair. “That is much easier said than done.”

  “Give the lady time, Darcy. You will be glad you did.” Richard threw back the remainder of his drink and rose from his chair. “I am going to bed. I leave early in the morning, probably before you are awake.”

  “When will we see you again?”

  Richard sighed. “I am not certain. I will drop in again when I find some time.”

  “You are welcome. Always.”

  “I know.” Richard slapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck to you with Miss Bennet.”

  Chapter Ten

  ~Friday, February 14, 1812

  Elizabeth and Jane sat in the parlour trying to work on their embroidery, but in actuality, listening to all the noise coming from outside the room. Every once in a while, they could hear Charles’s voice in the corridor, giving directions.

  Mr. Terrell, the furniture maker, had come on Wednesday to do his survey of the house. Elizabeth had to hold back a smile when the man agreed with their choices. Would he actually refuse to allow them to buy something if he thought it did not mesh well with the other pieces or the rooms? Mr. Darcy said he would.

  On Thursday, Uncle Gardiner’s men had delivered the rugs for every room in the house. Many of the other items would have to wait until the rest of the furniture arrived.

  Today, Mr. Terrell had stopped in when the delivery men had first arrived to say his sketches should be ready by Wednesday morning. Now, the men were very noisily bringing in the ready-made furnishings and setting them up in the correct rooms.

  Goodness! Elizabeth had never realized that setting up a house was so much work!

  After they had tea using the new, full-sized dining room table — not because they planned to use it for tea on a regular basis, but because Jane was too excited not to use it today — the ladies retired to rest before the ball at the Wallaces’.

  Now she was dressing in her best ball gown, which was in the trunks her father had sent from Longbourn the day after she had arrived here, only after her mother had insisted that Elizabeth must wear very different clothing in London than she had brought with her to Kent.

  Elizabeth still could not believe Mr. Darcy had asked her to dance the first set. Even in the country, a gentleman asking for the first set held the connotation of serious intentions, but in London, it was doubly so.

  From what Charles said, Mr. Darcy had carefully avoided dancing the opening set in the past, so Elizabeth was aware that he understood what it meant.

  Surely their dancing the first set would result in a flurry of gossip. Would she be despised by all the other young ladies? Heaven help her if they were all like Caroline Bingley, who had become jealous and spiteful when Mr. Darcy merely had a conversation with Elizabeth!

  Elizabeth placed her hand over her stomach, where it felt like a hundred butterflies were trapped.

  It was not long before Ruth declared her ready.

  Was she ready for this?

  She pictured Mr. Darcy, the muscular physique enhanced by his well-tailored suits, his handsome face, his smile, and the powerful expression in his eyes when he looked at her, tantalizing her to move closer to him.

  Tonight, she would touch his hand many times during the dance, before the whole world.

  It mattered not if all of the ton hated her for eternity; as long as she had Jane, Charles, and Mr. Darcy on her side, she was ready.

  She headed downstairs to the parlour where Jane and Charles awaited her. Charles was tying a small nosegay onto Jane’s wrist.

  She wandered to the window.

  “There is one for you, too, Elizabeth.” Charles said from across the room.

  Elizabeth turned back.

  Jane’s smile stretched almost from one ear to the other. “Come, I will help you.”

  She crossed the room. “Thank you so much, Charles, Jane. That was sweet of you.”

  “Actually…” Charles grinned. “When I was at the floral shop, I met an old friend, who, coincidentally, just happened to be there with his sister. It seems that his sister wished to send you a nosegay to wear to the ball this evening.” He cleared his throat. “Jane tells me it is quite proper for you to accept a gift of flowers from a female friend.” Charles pulled something from his pocket. “Additionally, his sister sent me home with this note to give to you.”

  Jane tied the nosegay to Elizabeth’s wrist: two red roses surrounded by the very flowers which had been blooming in Mr. Darcy’s favourite meadow while she was there, or those that he had said would be blooming soon: bright yellow celandine, a lighter yellow primrose, white snowdrops, and bluebells.

  “Darcy—” Charles stopped suddenly, “Oh, sorry, I mean his sister, said that you should search for the meaning of these flowers.”

  She turned to Jane. “Do you have—”

  “Yes! In Charles’s study.” She took hold of Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her down the corridor. Jane found the booklet quickly and handed it to her sister.

  Elizabeth paged through. “Celandine mean ‘joys to come.’ Snowdrops mean ‘hope.’ Bluebells mean ‘constancy.’ Primrose mean ‘I cannot live without you.’”

  Jane added, “And we both know that red roses mean love.” She grinned. “Oh, Lizzy!”

  Elizabeth hugged her sister. “Jane!”

  Charles’s voice came from the door. “Have you still not read the note?”

  She had put it down on the desk to search through the book. She snapped it up and broke the seal, reading silently.

  Amid the cooling fragrance of the morn

  How sweet with her through lonely fields to stray!

  Her charms the loveliest landscape shall adorn,

  And add new glories to the rising day.

  With her, all nature shines in heightened bloom;

  The silver stream in sweeter music flows;

  Odours more rich the fanning gales perfume;

  And deeper tinctures paint the spreading rose.

  With her, the shades of night their horrors lose,

  Its deepest silence charms, if she be by,

  Her voice the music of the dawn renews,

  Its lambent radiance sparkles in your eye.

  It was all about finding her in his favourite meadow at Rosings and all of the walks they had taken together.

  “It does not have the lovely boarder that the others do, but this one is more personal. Especially when accompanied by the flowers. They encompass memories we share.”

  She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “Unless you are overcome, Elizabeth, we should leave. Caroline always insisted on being very late so we could make an entrance, but I would rather arrive in a timely manner.”

  “I am well.” She sniffed and looked around for her reticule so she could use her handkerchief. She thought she must have left it in the parlour. “I apologize. Give me a moment to freshen up.”

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  They arrived at the Wallaces’ townhouse in good time, but there were carriages lined up all the way down the block, waiting their turn to deliver their occupants. Elizabeth’s nerves would not calm. She would soon miss dancing the first set with Mr. Darcy!

  Jane took her hand and squeezed it.

  When they were two houses away, Charles banged on the roof of the coach. “I cannot stand the strain any longer. It may not be fashionable to walk the rest of the way, but I will never hear the end of it from Darcy if I do not get Elizabeth there in time for her set with him.”

  The footman open
ed the door and pulled out the step. Charles alighted and helped the ladies out.

  “Thank you, Charles,” Elizabeth said as he handed her down.

  The ladies raised their skirts just enough to avoid getting the hems dusty, and the trio hurried down the sidewalk. Divested of their outerwear, they were ushered through the reception line quickly and stood behind the group waiting to be announced.

  Elizabeth peeked around those ahead of them to take in the ambiance of the ballroom. A fabric likeness of a winged infant Cupid hung on the wall opposite them, surrounded in pink and red hearts. The god of love readied an arrow to fire. According to ancient myth, a wound from Cupid’s arrows would inspire love in every victim. At one end of the room, near the refreshment table, was a beautiful ice sculpture of the Roman god.

  When their turn finally came, they moved up to the landing above the stairs. She searched the many faces in the chamber for Mr. Darcy. It seemed an impossible task. There were so many people! The throng parted directly beneath her.

  Her breath caught as the most elegant, handsome man she had ever seen emerged from the crowd like a dream.

  Mr. Darcy.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Darcy marched around the edges of the crowded ballroom, hoping if he did not stand still and kept a severe expression on his face, nobody would approach him.

  Staring at the door that led to the entrance hall, he realized he should have offered his coach to transport Elizabeth here, along with Charles and Mrs. Bingley, of course. He had always thought it was Miss Bingley who caused them to be late to everything, but perhaps it was Bingley himself.

  He wished to make a statement, bold and audacious as it was, by dancing the first set with Elizabeth. If all went as planned, by the end of the evening, no one in all of England would doubt his intentions, especially not the lady herself.

  The orchestra began to warm up their instruments, and Darcy’s stomach sank. If she did not arrive within the next ten minutes or so, the scheme would not be as effective.

  Another flurry of activity at the entry doors attracted his eye.

  There! Elizabeth stood at the top of the stairs, holding one of Charles’s arms.

  Darcy pulled in a deep breath. His eyes never straying from his object, he wound his way through the crowd.

  She wore the same gown she had worn at the Netherfield Ball, creamy white, hugging every curve yet flowing around her in a cloud; a perfect choice. She could never be more beautiful than she was that night, which is why he had felt the need to escape from Hertfordshire, and her, at the time.

  Her gaze flicked here and there about the room; he hoped she was searching for him. Their eyes met, and all tension drained from him as he watched the smile touch her eyes then spread across her lips, her cheeks.

  He had been wrong. She was even more beautiful tonight than she had been at Netherfield.

  An insane urge to rush to her, fall to one knee, and beg her to marry him, even before all these people, nearly overcame his sense of reason. He stifled the impulse.

  In time, Darcy. Give the lady time.

  As he drew nearer, she touched her wrist, drawing his eyes downward. His flowers. Had Charles remembered to tell her to learn the flowers’ meanings? Did she understand what the poem signified?

  Her expression told him she did.

  Elizabeth was on the bottom step when he reached her. He bowed. She stepped down and curtsied. He held out his arm. She took it. He placed his hand on top of hers.

  She was his, at least for the next three quarters of an hour.

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Mr. Darcy began moving again, escorting Elizabeth through the crowd. Charles and Jane followed. Many curious people turned to watched them pass by. Mr. Darcy nodded to several he must have known, but not one person stepped forward to greet him. Instead, they were looking at her suspiciously.

  Then Elizabeth realized why. Mr. Darcy was glaring at everyone.

  “If you would like to withdraw your offer to dance with me, Mr. Darcy, I will allow it. No questions asked.”

  He turned his head quickly. “You do not wish to dance?”

  “On the contrary; I do wish to dance with you, but you are scowling so harshly, everyone here must think you are miserable. They are regarding me as if I trapped you into dancing with me against your will, and I am beginning to feel a bit wretched, to tell the truth.”

  He smiled widely.

  Annoyed, and trying to ignore the effect his dimple always had on her, she raised one eyebrow. “I was not aware I said something amusing.”

  “You are the most exceptional lady I have ever had the honour of knowing, Miss Bennet. I hope you do not take this as my being conceited when I say that most ladies in my circle would not care a whit about what others thought as long as they were seen on my arm. They also would never give me the chance to retract an offer to dance.”

  “Are you saying I am not of their calibre?”

  He shook his head. “I am saying you are the most superior lady I have ever met, and I would be a complete fool if it even entered my mind to withdraw from this set, or any other set you would agree to dance with me.” He bowed his head slightly.

  She blinked. “Oh,” she almost whispered.

  His expression less severe than before, he leaned towards her to say quietly, “I will be honest, Miss Bennet. I am jealous.”

  Her shock seeped into her tone. “Jealous?”

  “You may not realize it, but the gentlemen are all looking at us, waiting for an opening so that I will introduce them and they may request a dance from you. I have been warning them off.”

  “So, you will have me sit out for the rest of the evening after our set, then?”

  “I certainly shall not. I have been working up the courage to request that you honour me with the supper set and the final set of the evening.”

  She gasped. “I will remind you that this is London, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I am quite aware of where we are, Miss Bennet.”

  “You are saying you wish to engage me for three sets in one evening? In London?”

  He met her gaze with an intensity she had rarely seen before. “That is exactly what I am saying.”

  “On Saint Valentine’s Day, no less?” she breathed.

  “Absolutely.”

  She searched his eyes. He meant it. There was no doubt.

  She stopped walking, reached into her reticule, and handed him her dance card.

  His eyes flashed with something like victory and just a dash of uncertainty. “You agree?”

  She nodded. “Sir, if your name was written on my dance card three times in my handwriting, I doubt anyone would believe it.”

  He quickly took the pencil from her hand and signed his name three times, then, beaming at her, he said, “Thank you, Miss Bennet.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Are you two going to stand about all evening?” Charles said from behind them.

  The orchestra played the notes that informed the guests it was time for the first dance.

  Mr. Darcy did not take his eyes from hers. “We shall dance.”

  ⸟ﻬ⸞ﻬ⸟

  Whispers followed them to the dance floor.

  “Who is she?”

  “I have never seen her before. Perhaps she was raised abroad?”

  “Do you know her name?”

  “She must have an extremely large fortune!”

  “How did she do it?”

  Elizabeth wondered what they would say if they knew she was a relative nobody, had been raised on a small estate in Hertfordshire, had practically no dowry, relations in trade, had already refused Mr. Darcy’s offer of marriage once, and that she agreed to dance three sets with him tonight.

  The music started. They began to move.

  While they made a turn, Mr. Darcy remarked, “Your eyes are laughing.”

  They parted and met again. “It is amusing that everyone is either staring at us or talking about us.”

  “This
is London, Miss Bennet.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

  She echoed his previous reply. “I am aware of where we are, sir.”

  They were separated for several movements before they came together again. “How do you endure it?”

  He grinned. “I tend to scowl harshly.”

  Elizabeth was still laughing when they reunited. “If we are to dance three…” They separated and came together again. “…sets this evening, you will have to…” They met again. “…teach me to scowl, too.”

  He replied over the course of the next few movements, “Only smiles will do for you. I will do my best to prevent a scowl from ever crossing your face.”

  Mr. Darcy rarely took his eyes from Elizabeth’s for the rest of their set. In his black suit, his eyes took on a deeper shade, and they drew her in to the point of exclusion of all else.

  Elizabeth was unaware of time passing or of the others she came into contact with during the dance. They had little conversation, not with words at least. She was surprised when the music ended and he took her hand to place on his arm and escort her from the floor.

  “You do know you will have to introduce me to some other gentlemen or I will be on the sidelines for most of the evening.”

  “I shall keep you company.”

  “Perhaps I should I ask Charles to introduce me?”

  Indecision shone from his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. He had made up his mind about something.

  He swallowed hard. “Come outside for a moment. The Wallace family has a large garden here, with extensive paths.”

  “It is hardly appropriate, sir.”

  He searched the crowd, and then led her over to Jane and Charles. “Will you come outside with us for a moment?” Mr. Darcy asked of Charles.

  Recognition dawned in Charles’s eyes. He smirked. “It is a bit hot in here already, and it is a mild night.”

  Once outdoors, Charles and Jane walked quickly, leaving room between the couples.

  Mr. Darcy halted and turned to her. There was a desperation about him. Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized that expression! It was the same as—

  “Miss Bennet…” He took a deep breath.

  Was he about to propose?

  “I have never stopped loving you. My feelings have not faltered, no matter what has occurred between us. I realize before leaving Rosings, I promised we would be friends, but I have found it impossible to continue on as we are. I do not wish to live without you by my side. Please grant me your hand and make me the happiest of men. Please become my wife.”