I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  But in those strange disturbances of time that sometimes plague dreams, he found himself lying abed after the accident as an adult. A woman sat on the counterpane dressed in an outmoded gown of crimson velvet. Her face was turned away as she read to him by candlelight. He studied her dark tresses, which tumbled down her back as he listened to her smooth, pleasant voice. He had one hand stretched out towards her on the coverlet, and she stroked his fingers occasionally with her own hand, which lay atop it. He had just decided she was his mother when she turned to smile at him, and his heart skipped a beat when he recognised Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  The shock was sufficient to wake him.

  Rising, Darcy had drunk a cup of tea at the back door before heading out at dawn on a bruising ride across the Hertfordshire countryside. When he arrived back at the house, he decided that he definitely needed a bath before heading down to breakfast.

  Upon emerging from the copper tub, his valet had thrown his gown around his shoulders, and he walked to the window. Below, he saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet playing with Argos. When the dog jumped up and licked her face, she protested and tumbled over backwards laughing, at which point the hound touched his nose gently to her face and raced off to retrieve another stick. Again, Darcy felt a ridiculous pang of jealousy. He withdrew from the window, knowing if he continued to watch he was going to need another bath, probably a cold one.

  When he came down to breakfast, the Bingleys were at table. Hurst was missing, no doubt sleeping in again. He enquired of the Bennets and was told that Miss Elizabeth had taken breakfast upstairs with her sister, who was not yet well enough to eat. Dr Gregory apparently had already come and gone, declaring little progress but no worse prognosis.

  Darcy had eaten breakfast in silence, immersed in a strange melancholy that felt as if he had wool stuck in his ears. Caroline continued her bitching about Miss Elizabeth, but it seemed far off and he paid no attention to it. After breakfast, he returned to the Netherfield library where he was going through the old ledgers of the estate on Bingley's behalf.

  Looking out the window around eleven, he saw Miss Elizabeth in the garden and decided to stretch his legs.

  Darcy had not taken two steps off the terrace before Argos bounced towards him, yapped; then took off to find a stick.

  He watched Miss Elizabeth wander in the garden for some minutes, ensconced in her own activities and oblivious of his scrutiny. She had taken off her straw bonnet and was using it as a basket as she gathered wildflowers, which had sprung up around the more ordered blooms of the formal garden. It occurred to him that she had borne the vitriol flung at her by the Bingley sisters over the past couple of days with graceful equanimity while she quietly tended to her sister. With shame, he realised he had contributed to that vitriol, even fuelled it in his efforts to deny his attraction to her. While she might not be an eligible female, she was obviously a worthy person and did not deserve the treatment that had been meted out to her.

  Darcy walked towards her, but stopped some two feet distant, wondering what to say. At this point Argos returned, dropping a baby rabbit, dead, at his feet.

  They both stared at it for a moment, before Miss Elizabeth dared, "Oh dear, that will be rather a small pie. I do hope Cook has a tiny ramekin. Perhaps it will serve as the entrée?"

  Darcy stared at the bunny, rubbing his right temple.

  "Miss Elizabeth, I must apologise for my behaviour at the assembly…"

  He paused. "I had the headache."

  She stared at him open mouthed for a moment before regaining her aplomb.

  "So Mary was right! I have underestimated her percipience. I was sure that you were just being disagreeable!"

  He smiled ruefully.

  Lizzy knew that a headache was not an apology, but she suspected it was the closest she would get to one.

  "Very well, Mr Darcy. Truce."

  He nodded.

  Contemplating the tiny rabbit, he had the most bizarre urge to cradle it to his chest. Tossing this random thought aside, he picked it up by the ears and walked off towards the kitchens.

  Darcy next saw Miss Elizabeth at dinner.

  She surveyed the board before mischievously asking in a quiet voice, "No ramekin?"

  "I believe it ended up in the stockpot," he replied.

  Miss Bingley eyed them suspiciously.

  After dinner, Elizabeth again returned to Jane when the ladies withdrew. After confirming her sister was comfortable, she reluctantly descended to the drawing room.

  The card table had been abandoned. Mr Hurst was stretched out on a settee with a cushion over his head. Louisa Hurst sat playing with her bangles, while her brother stood poking the fire. Mr Darcy was sitting at a desk writing a letter, while Miss Bingley hovered nearby.

  "You write so charmingly, Mr Darcy!" she cooed. "You must have won many prizes for penmanship at Cambridge."

  "Miss Bingley, there are no prizes for penmanship at Cambridge," he replied without looking up.

  Suppressing a smile, Lizzy sat down in a chair and opened her book.

  Shortly after, Mr Darcy finished his letter with a flourish, then sanded and sealed the missive. He stood up, crossed to Miss Bennet's side of the room and then proceeded to pace up and down along a line approximately six feet away from her. She was aware of his occasional glances in her direction, but did not lift her head from her book.

  Finally he blurted, "So you believe females should go to war?"

  So… he had been listening at the Lucas's soirée! thought Elizabeth.

  "Not as a general rule, but Colonel Forster seems to have forgotten a few females who didn't swoon at the sight of blood: Boudicca, Joan of Arc, and Zenobia spring to mind… Queen Elizabeth and Catherine the Great…"

  "The latter hardly swung a sword themselves," interposed Mr Darcy.

  "Nonetheless they commanded countries at war. For that matter, I don't recall that the Prince Regent has been swinging a sword lately," she retorted.

  "Bravo!" declared Mr Bingley, "do not let him bully you, Miss Elizabeth. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do."

  "I see your design, Bingley," said his friend. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."

  "Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours 'til I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

  "It is dialectic argument, Bingley," explained Darcy. "Surely you learnt that much at Oxford?"

  "Dielectric?" said Bingley, "Oh no, I didn't study the natural sciences, only classics and philosophy."

  Darcy bit his lip and mentally rolled his eyes.

  He looked up to see Miss Elizabeth barely suppressing her laughter and could not help returning a small smile.

  All of this was Chinese to Miss Bingley, who only detected that her brother had committed the double sin of championing Eliza Bennet and criticising the illustrious Mr Darcy.

  "Charles!" she remonstrated, rushing to Mr Darcy's side and clutching his sleeve.

  Mr Darcy glared at his sleeve until Caroline removed her hand. Then he sat down opposite Miss Elizabeth and picked up the History of Nelson. They continued to read in silence, glancing at each other occasionally whenever they thought the other wasn't looking. Miss Bingley stared alternately at them both, much like a terrier guarding a mouse hole. After half an hour of this, Lizzy could stand no more, and bidding the Netherfield party goodnight, she retreated to Jane's room.

  Around midnight Mr Darcy also retired to the guest wing. The door to Miss Bennet's room was closed.

  Chapter 12: Leaving Netherfield

  On the following morning, Dr Gregory arrived at Netherfield in his gig around eight, at the beginning of his morning rounds.
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br />   Returning to the stables after his morning ride, Mr Darcy saw the gig drive up. He was still feeling less than charitable towards the good doctor. As he walked back to the house, he mulled over their various interactions in which he had come off second-best. Entering the house quietly, he came upon Miss Elizabeth and Dr Gregory at the foot of the stairs, as the physician was about to take his leave. He watched them, unobserved, from an alcove.

  "Miss Elizabeth I do believe that your sister is well enough to return to Longbourn," Dr Gregory said as he brought her ungloved hand to his lips, "and thank goodness, for we're desperately missing you at the infirmary!"

  Desperately missing her at the infirmary? thought Darcy as he watched Dr Gregory continue to hold her hand and then squeeze it. He realised he was grinding his teeth.

  "Your sister must not be selfish," Dr Gregory smiled at Elizabeth. "The rest of Meryton is in need of its best nurse."

  Working as a nurse? Lord, Mr Bennet's financial position must be worse than popular rumour implied, thought Darcy, as he continued to stand there in the shadows, willing the doctor to drop her hand.

  "Thank you, Dr Gregory," she replied. "That is good news indeed!"

  Accordingly a message was sent to Longbourn requesting the carriage. The news was conveyed to Mr Bingley, and Lizzy returned upstairs to help her sister dress.

  She had just finished brushing out Jane's hair, when there was a knock. The maid opened the door to Mr Bingley, who was bearing a bunch of roses that had obviously come from the formal garden.

  "Miss Bennet, you cannot be planning on leaving us so soon," said Bingley, proffering the roses.

  "On the contrary, Mr Bingley, I fear I have imposed far too long," replied Jane gently, accepting the blooms and inhaling their scent.

  "Then may I sit and talk to you before you go?" he said, settling himself on the chaise longue before she had a chance to reply.

  An hour later, Lizzy was gratified to see her mother had arrived; but she was much less happy when her three sisters also descended from the carriage, for it would be rather an uncomfortable trip back.

  However, once inside, Mrs Bennet's real mission was revealed: she was quite insistent Jane should not be moved. To Lizzy's protestations that Dr Gregory had approved it, she merely replied that a second opinion should be sought from Mr Jones.

  Before returning to Longbourn without her two elder daughters, Mrs Bennet sat down to tea with the Bingleys. Lizzy reluctantly followed them into the morning room. Jane had been adjured to stay in her bed upstairs.

  During the whole visit, the two youngest daughters had been whispering to each other, and as they sat down at the table, the youngest reminded Mr Bingley of having promised, on his first coming into the country, to give a ball at Netherfield.

  The Bingley sisters glared at each other.

  "Now that the officers are here, it would be the most shameful thing in the world if you do not keep your promise," said Lydia.

  Mr Bingley bowed his head to her. "I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is fully recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill."

  Lydia bounced up and down in her seat, clapped her hands, and hugged Kitty.

  Miss Bingley worried about her new chairs–with sabre legs that lacked runners, they were not meant for such rough treatment. She then scowled as Kitty carefully placed her bonnet on the table. Setting a cup of tea down beside it, Caroline picked it up.

  "Let me help you with that, Miss Kitty. No hats on the table!"

  But as she lifted the bonnet, something fell from within it and landed with a splash in Kitty's cup of tea.

  "Oh dear!" said Kitty, as she peered into her cup.

  Lydia snorted her tea through her nose. "Was that Freddie?" she exclaimed.

  Jumping up and grabbing the cup, Lydia tipped its contents unceremoniously onto her bread-and-butter plate, splashing tea onto the tablecloth and revealing a frog, decidedly worse for wear.

  "Oh dear," she said, "I think he's had it!"

  With great presence of mind, Bingley motioned for a footman to take the plate. He appeared to be stifling a smile, and the footman seemed also to be having some difficulty arranging his countenance.

  The Bingley sisters glared at each other.

  Lizzy could only be glad that Mr Darcy was still in the library and made new plans for her escape.

  Upon the departure of Mrs Bennet and her youngest daughters, Lizzy privately sought Caroline and requested the Bingley carriage, which was immediately put at her disposal.

  Thus, despite Mrs Bennet's machinations, the sisters departed at noon. Lizzy knew she could truthfully say that Mr Jones concurred with Dr Gregory's opinion: he was too wise a man to disagree. She would apprise him of his involvement tomorrow at the infirmary.

  The sisters were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs Bennet wondered at their coming, thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.

  Returning to his room after lunch, Mr Darcy entered the empty room opposite and surveyed it. Inhaling, he thought he could detect her scent. The pile of pillows on the bed attested to a single occupant. His eyes turned to the chaise longue before he noticed a servant's cot in the dressing room: that was where she had slept.

  Darcy walked to the window to stare down into the formal garden where she had been gathering flowers yesterday. He turned when he heard another person enter the room.

  "Mr Darcy," said Caroline with a frown, "have you lost something?"

  "No, Miss Bingley," said Darcy, walking past her into the hall. "Have you?"

  Chapter 13: Back at Longbourn

  At Longbourn, Mrs Bennet continued with her matrimonial plans. It had not escaped her notice that she had been given a unique opportunity at Netherfield on the previous day. She wasted no time in taking her daughters into her confidence. They were not to reveal the secret of the ball to anyone. They must use their time wisely to prepare themselves.

  She then revealed her masterstroke to her daughters: their aunt had written yesterday–their uncle had received a new shipment of silks from India.

  Mrs Bennet's brother, Edward Gardiner, had made his fortune in import and export, and he always offered goods to his sister at cost price. She had counted and recounted her pin money: there was sufficient to buy material for two new dresses. Lizzy and Mary would be wearing silk at the ball as well as Jane!

  "If Lizzy does not appeal to Mr Darcy, perhaps Mary will!" exclaimed Mrs Bennet. "After all, he sent her the piano!"

  Lizzy coughed when she swallowed her tea the wrong way at this statement. After spending several days within Mr Darcy's vicinity, she did not think any woman would suit him; although she had to admit, she had found no evidence for any predilection towards Mr Bingley. Bizarrely enough, considering their disparate temperaments, they seemed to be just good friends. She could only wonder at how they arrived at that state.

  Mrs Bennet had written back to her sister-in-law immediately, instructing Aunt Gardiner to select two colours that she thought would become Lizzy and Mary well. Two days later, a package arrived and the younger girls clustered round as she opened it, while the two eldest maintained a more polite distance. On top was a beautiful grey blue silk, which Aunt Gardiner had chosen for Mary. Mrs Bennet was a little disappointed at first, as she had envisioned bright colours like the Bingley sisters had worn at the assembly, but when the silk was held against Mary's chest, they all saw how it enhanced her pale complexion, and, wondrously, made her grey-blue eyes look bluer.

  "Your aunt is so smart girls!" crowed Mrs Bennet. "It could not be better!" If this does not
catch Mr Darcy's eye, Mary, I don't know what will! You must set your cap at Dr Gregory, Lizzy.

  When she removed the tissue paper from the second length, they all gasped. It was the most beautiful crimson. Lizzy, in turn, held the fabric against her chest. It looked stunning combined with her more tanned complexion and chestnut locks.

  Of the two colours, the crimson was definitely more striking, and for a moment, Mrs Bennet thought it seemed a shame to waste it on a mere physician; perhaps it would be better for Mary after all. The two girls dutifully swapped silks for comparison. No, Mary looked quite wan in the crimson; and while the blue looked well enough on Lizzy, it was nothing to the vision she appeared in the stunning crimson. It was decided: Mrs Gardiner's original choices would stand.

  After Jane returned from her sojourn at Netherfield, Mr Bingley visited Longbourn every day to take morning tea. Usually he arrived with either Caroline or Louisa, though neither lady affected much enthusiasm for the trip. Occasionally Mr Darcy accompanied him.

  Lizzy was having a little difficulty understanding the terms of their truce. If she was absent, Mr Darcy apparently made civil, though infrequent, contributions to the conversation. If she was present, which was generally only when it was raining, he usually sat like a statue. Occasionally she would find him staring at her, out from under hooded brows. She did not feel he was glaring at her; it was quite a different sensation, like he was drilling a hole through her skull, starting between her eyebrows. Then he would get up, turn his back to the party, and stare out the window for the rest of his stay. Apparently their truce consisted of not saying anything nasty, rather than trying to be pleasant.