“How shall we punish him?” Miss Bingley had asked.
“Tease him,” Elizabeth said. “If he enjoys our figures so much but will not join us, then perhaps we should sit.”
Then, Miss Bingley did precisely as Elizabeth guessed she would do. She refused to tease poor Mr. Darcy and devised a plan to practice for the ball. Her sister and Mr. Bingley joined in, but Darcy claimed he could not join for the number would be uneven. Mrs. Hurst offered to sit out, but Darcy continued to refuse to dance. Instead, he watched them, his eyes hardly leaving Elizabeth except to talk to Jane, who said she longed to be well enough to join them.
As the evening progressed, and Elizabeth realised just how much power she had over Darcy, she reconsidered her earlier feelings. His insult had generated much of her dislike. However, as she had seen the last several days at Netherfield, he was not as unkind and hateful as she had assumed. Indeed, he kept Jane in good spirits.
Finally, when the exhibition was over, Mr. Bingley resumed his seat next to Jane. Elizabeth watched as Darcy observed the two. A slow smile began to spread across his face. When he met Elizabeth’s eyes, it was as though he was saying, “I see it too.”
When he came upon her the next day in the library, they spent nearly an hour discussing their favourite books. Shockingly, Darcy had read all the recent novels and had memorised all of Mrs. Malaprop’s lines from The Rivals. Apparently, he often read aloud to his sister and excelled in changing his voice for various characters. For added measure, Elizabeth requested they read a scene from Much Ado About Nothing. Darcy made a delightful Benedick and indeed had a talent for inventing new voices for other characters. His version of Dogberry, the inept constable, had Elizabeth in stitches. Once they recovered from that, Darcy requested the newspaper that lay next to Elizabeth, and they discussed various articles of recent news.
Elizabeth fell asleep that night with dreams of his intense blue eyes gazing upon her with affection and the way his dimples showed when he grinned. Even in her sleep, her lips tingled as they had when she was expecting his kiss. If only Miss Bingley had not ruined it!
When the Bennet sisters left for Longbourn, Darcy handed Elizabeth into the carriage. She thought he gave her hand a squeeze, but perhaps it had merely been wishful thinking.
Arriving at home, Elizabeth was shocked to feel listless and distracted. How could a few days at Netherfield have changed so much? And yet it felt like everything had changed. Jane sometimes stared out the window in the direction of Netherfield and sighed. Although Elizabeth knew her sister’s distraction came from so little interaction with Bingley, Elizabeth’s longing was because, somehow, she had grown accustomed to Mr. Darcy.
She had all the more reason to miss his presence once she met Longbourn’s heir, her distant cousin Mr. Collins. Darcy might be too reserved in new company. Still, it did not seem such a dreadful sin when compared with Mr. Collins’ superciliousness. Desperate to leave the confines of the house, and put distance between her and the annoying clergyman, Elizabeth agreed to walk to Meryton with her younger sisters.
Unfortunately, Mr. Collins insisted on walking with the ladies. Elizabeth had hoped he would have stayed home and kept Mary company. He jabbered on incessantly about his “esteemed patroness” and the situation of his parsonage. Elizabeth was so intent on tuning out his voice that she did not realise her sisters had led their group over to a militia officer and his friend. She did not care for the open way in which this newcomer, Mr. Wickham, assessed the ladies. While attempting to find some reason to draw her sisters away from him, something compelled her to look down the road. A moment later, as though she had known he would appear, Darcy and Bingley approached on their mounts.
Elizabeth’s breath caught at the sight of Darcy, and she felt her mouth form into a broad grin. As he neared, she could see he also bore a small smile. As they were in public, it was not the openly free one he had shown her in the library at Netherfield, but she could see that it reached his eyes, nonetheless.
She also witnessed the moment his face turned red as unrestrained fury and hatred entered his eyes. She gasped at the change. Turning, she followed the direction of his gaze to the man beside her, Mr. Wickham. He went white, Elizabeth presumed out of fear.
Darcy urged his horse forward and dismounted. Without acknowledging anyone else, he came directly to Elizabeth. “Are you well?” he asked.
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. Why was he worried about her?
He dropped his voice so Mr. Wickham, who had flinched when Darcy approached, could not hear. “You looked relieved to see me and are in the presence of a man I know to be a scoundrel. Are you well? Did he say anything that unsettled you?” His eyes searched Elizabeth’s with high anxiety.
Her gaze softened as she heard the concern in his voice. “I am well. We have only just met Mr. Wickham, but I did not care for the way he looked at me or my sisters. However, if I appeared relieved to see you, then it must be that I have missed our conversations. I also find the gentleman behind you to be unbearably talkative and annoying even as he attempts to ingratiate himself to all he meets.”
Immediately, some of the tension left Darcy’s frame. “Does that mean you do not dislike me because I do not speak enough or am too rude when I do so?”
Elizabeth looked at her feet before peeking up at Darcy and fighting a blush. “I do not dislike you anymore, Mr. Darcy.”
He sucked in a breath. “Stay here. I will explain all to you later.”
Then, he approached Wickham, who, for a moment, looked like he might faint. Darcy whispered something to him. Elizabeth could not hear a word that passed between them, but she could see the terror in Wickham’s eyes. He glanced quickly to his friend, who eyed him curiously. Then, Wickham nodded his head and walked away from Darcy.
“Come on, Denny. Let me buy you a drink before I leave,” he said.
“You are going? I thought you had decided to join up!” Lieutenant Denny cried in confusion.
“I have changed my mind.” The two men rushed away.
“Well, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked when he returned to her side. “That was fascinating to observe, but you did promise an explanation.”
“I cannot do so here. There is no privacy.”
“I am afraid, sir, that we might never again have the privacy afforded to us at Netherfield.” Not unless they married. Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the thought.
Darcy frowned. “I suppose you are correct…unless I called on Longbourn and asked for a moment with you.”
Elizabeth blushed. “If you asked to speak to me privately at Longbourn, my mother would grant the audience without question, but she would also have many expectations about such a conversation.”
“That won’t do,” he said.
Elizabeth’s heart deflated. Why had she hoped he would like to have such a discussion with her? When had she begun to like him in that way?
“Bingley intends to call on Longbourn in a few days to personally invite your family to attend his ball. Perhaps I may slip a letter to you then. I believe I am one in your debt.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth said. They lapsed into silence for a moment, and she could not bear the way her thoughts vacillated in response to his words. She glanced at Jane and Bingley. “They seem promising, do they not?”
When Darcy did not immediately reply, she looked back at him. “Perhaps they do, but was that the only reason you looked so happy to see me? You wished to discuss your sister and my friend once more?”
Elizabeth thought he looked sad at the thought. His words implied disappointment, at least. She opened her mouth to reply but was yanked away by her youngest sister.
“Lizzy! We have been calling you for a year, at least. Our Aunt Phillips has invited us inside.” Lydia looked at Darcy. “Oh, you can come in too, I suppose, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy stared expectantly at Elizabeth for another moment. She longed to say something but could not think of a single coherent thing that would reassure him and not
invite Lydia’s notice.
“Thank you, Miss Lydia, but I must return to Netherfield.”
He turned without another word or look. A moment later, Bingley followed suit.
“Was that Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?” Mr. Collins panted after bounding to her side.
In an instant, Elizabeth perceived that she wished she could call him her Mr. Darcy.
Chapter Seven
“If Caroline is not down here in exactly one minute, we leave without her,” Bingley said to Darcy as they stood in Netherfield’s foyer.
They awaited Bingley’s sisters so they could make calls on the area residents and invite them to Bingley’s ball next week. Darcy said nothing, for Hurst’s grunt of agreement perfectly captured his feelings. He was most anxious to give Elizabeth his letter. He smoothed his hand over his coat pocket, where he stored the missive.
It was not the sort of letter he should be writing, least of all to Elizabeth. She deserved words of admiration and love, but he was even less able to write such things than he was to speak them. Additionally, she should know the truth about him and his family before he asked for her to become entangled with him.
After weeks of conflicting feelings for her, everything became clear the moment he saw Elizabeth next to George Wickham. The rake could not be allowed to have a chance at winning the affections another lady close to Darcy’s heart. It was too soon to propose matrimony. Elizabeth would be as sensible to the shortness of their acquaintance as he was. However, he was determined to make her love him. After she read his letter, if she did not reject him, he would ask to court her at Bingley’s ball. Then, their future together would begin the following day.
“There you are!” Bingley called as his sisters finally made their appearance.
“I do not know why you are in such a rush,” Caroline sniffed. “I suppose we are to go to Longbourn first? Mr. Darcy must be desperate to see Miss Elizabeth’s sensational eyes.”
“Actually,” Darcy said, “I convinced Bingley to go there last so we could stay as long as we pleased.” He winked at his friend, who chuckled at his sister’s look of disgust.
“I do not think I can stomach the thought of more than fifteen minutes in Mrs. Bennet’s company.” Caroline clutched her head.
“Then stay behind,” Bingley said. “We are leaving now.”
He turned on his heel and walked to the carriage, Darcy and Hurst following him. Just before the footman closed the door, Mrs. Hurst grabbed hold of it. The footman paused and looked at Bingley for direction. He nodded, allowing the ladies in.
Privately, Darcy had agreed with Caroline on the subject of Mrs. Bennet. She was not his favourite person. Thankfully, Bingley drew her attention far more than he did. Of course, once he was courting Elizabeth, that would change. Still, he could bear it for her. Indeed, he endured the visits to ten different families with the motivation of seeing Elizabeth at the end. At last, they arrived at Longbourn and were shown to the drawing room.
“Mr. Bingley! How kind of you to visit us! And you bring your lovely sisters.” Mrs. Bennet gushed and shooed them into the room. “Oh, and Mr. Darcy.” Her voice lowered in disdain. However, Darcy counted himself more fortunate than Hurst, who she had not acknowledged at all.
Darcy took a seat as near Elizabeth as he could. The position closest to her was occupied by her cousin. “Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth. I trust you are well.”
The heir squirmed in his seat. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Collins, the rector at Hunsford, which you must know is attached to your esteemed aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s estate. Pray, forgive me for not greeting you when I first saw you on the street in Meryton. You will be gratified to hear that when I last dined at Rosings, your aunt and cousin were very well indeed. How blessed am I to meet with one of her ladyship’s nephews and Mr. Darcy, her favourite, at that!”
Darcy fixed his eyes upon the man in wonder.
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth hissed. “You should not have introduced yourself. Can you not see he thinks you impertinent?”
“I would not have had to do so if you had introduced me first. I am his aunt’s clergyman. He cannot find me impertinent.”
“Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth began, but Darcy interrupted.
“I believe it is Mr. Collins, you said?”
“Yes.”
“I do not think my aunt will be pleased to hear that you are using her name so freely to introduce yourself to personages above your rank and breaking propriety to do so. You presume too much.”
Mr. Collins gulped, and his eyes widened. “A thousand apologies.”
Darcy nodded magnanimously. “I will not mention it to my aunt.”
“Such condescension!” he cried. “I am unworthy of it! Excuse me. I must write to Lady Catherine directly and admit to my error and plead forgiveness.” He scurried away, making a general apology to the room.
Once he had gone, Darcy took the seat next to Elizabeth. She gave him a small smile and whispered, “That was well done.”
“Are you glad to be rid of him?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “With any luck, you will have convinced him to leave early and provide his apologies to her ladyship in person.”
She had smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “What has you distressed?”
“How do you know me so well?” Elizabeth asked.
Again, the longing to sweep her into his arms nearly overcame him.
“I was not just eavesdropping on all your fascinating conversations the last several weeks.”
“I know you were always staring at me. I thought it was to find fault.”
“Never!”
She raised a brow.
“Well, not since the first night.” He chuckled then shrugged. “I suppose I have made a study of your demeanour. What has you concerned?” He looked at Jane and Bingley. “Your sister again?”
“No,” Elizabeth sighed.
He waited, but she seemed uncertain if she should say anything. Miss Bingley seemed to be staring at them with growing dislike evident on her face.
Forming a desperate resolution, Darcy addressed his hostess. “Mrs. Bennet, your daughter has just been telling me about an enjoyable walk hereabouts. As the weather is so fine, do you object to her showing me? The others could join us and make a merry party out of it.”
“Oh, dear,” Miss Bingley said. “I am afraid I did not wear appropriate shoes for walking. Do excuse me.”
“What a wonderful idea, Mr. Darcy. I am sure Mr. Bingley and Jane should like to join you. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, I shall look forward to the conversation we may have in their absence. I want to hear all about the latest London fashions.”
Caroline turned panicked eyes to her sister, who stammered. “Would you allow us to defer the discussion until after the ball? There is much to be done, and we had expected to be at home by now.”
Mrs. Bennet frowned, and before she could open her mouth, Bingley had stood up. “Mrs. Bennet, if we call for the carriage for my sisters and brother now, that will allow it time to return to Netherfield and come back while we others walk.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Bennet nodded. “Right way.”
Bingley and Darcy locked eyes and managed to leave the room with their ladies without delay.
“Now, you may tell me what was bothering you earlier,” Darcy said as she placed her hand around his arm. How right it felt!
“I believe you owe me an explanation first,” she said.
“And I said it would be a letter. You may read it after I leave.”
“Very well. Mr. Collins has paid me considerable attention since he arrived. I think he fancies himself in love with me.”
“Is that so distressing or impossible to consider? That a man may love you?” Darcy bit the inside of his cheek from saying more.
Elizabeth blushed. “He leaves something very much to be desired. However, my mother certainly desires the match.”
“And you fear that she will intimidate you into
marriage?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Hardly. My father sees how ridiculous he is, but even if I had no ally in my home, I would not marry him.”
“I applaud your decision. If you have made up your mind and feel secure of your father’s support, what causes you anxiety?”
“It is simply…unpleasant to receive such unwanted attention! How do you bear with Miss Bingley?” She looked up at him. “I suppose there are other ladies that have set their cap at you, too.”
Darcy thought for a moment. “I have far more freedom than you do, Miss Elizabeth. If I find company bothersome, I can call for my horse and go elsewhere. However, if it would help, I promise to be a buffer for you at Bingley’s ball. You deserve to enjoy your evening without a pompous idiot following you about.”
“Thank you,” she said and gave his arm a light squeeze.
Unbidden, his free hand covered hers. They ceased walking, and their eyes met, her brown ones soft and inviting. He glanced up the lane. Jane and Bingley were well ahead of them. “Elizabeth…”
“Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Collins called.
Immediately, Elizabeth let go of his arm.
“Go, catch up with Bingley and your sister.”
Elizabeth nodded and walked on without Darcy.
“Good sir, I was about to end my letter to Lady Catherine, when I realised that you may wish for me to add greetings or some missive to her.”
“Thank you, no,” Darcy said. “I have just written her a letter.”
“And what of Miss de Bourgh? You should not like to keep your cousin waiting for long.”
“Pardon me?”
“What a fortunate man you will be to have Miss de Bourgh as your bride and to become master of Rosings!”
Seven Days With Mr Darcy Page 112