Courtship and Confusion

by Laura Maybrick

  At long last she had time to ponder again. Not that it would lead her to anything. And besides, it would be weeks until she would see Mr Darcy again. Not before her sister's wedding to Mr Bingley and only shortly, for sure.

  Chapter 17

  With a start, Fitzwilliam Darcy woke up. Again it was the middle of the night and once more he had dreamed about Miss Elizabeth Bennet and very vividly so. It was slowly but surely becoming a habit of his and none that he was too proud of. In actuality it was rather embarrassing that every time he fell asleep he lost all his iron self-restraint. As yet he had not given in to his baser needs and instead ignored his need for her, but how much longer it would do to douse his head in cold water and walk it off in the solitude of his chamber he did not know. The temptation to reach down, close his eyes and imagine her to be there with him slowly but surely became overwhelming. And as it was, today he would join Bingley on his short journey to Hertfordshire. He would see her again, if not today, then tomorrow. Hopefully. But what then? While he was pretty certain that she saw him differently than she had before, was it enough to press his suit and ask her for a courtship? Well, he would have to see, would have to probe his luck. If only he were not so very nervous.

  But funnily enough, on their last walk, he had been nothing but comfortable in her presence, even though they had hardly spoken a word. It had been the very walk on which Bingley had, on a whim as was not unusual for him, asked Miss Bennet to marry him and she had accepted. If only he could have mustered his courage likewise, perhaps he would have no more reason to worry and wonder. But then again, no, it would have been too early. Or would it have been? What if he had made a mistake by not asking her for her hand in marriage likewise?

  Pacing up and down his bed room, Darcy slowly but surely realised just how tense he was. On the upside though, his arousal had ceased and was now nothing but a mortifying memory. At least until the next time. Since there was little point going back to sleep, seeing that Bingley was to pick him up shortly after breakfast, instead Darcy sat down in the armchair by the window picked up his book and tried to read. However, that was just as futile an effort as pondering on what he should do to make Elizabeth see just how much he loved her. And he did. Had he had some doubt about his feelings when leaving Netherfield last November, now he was absolutely certain. Never in his life had he been so bewitched by any woman as he had by her.

  Slowly, very slowly the time passed until he could in good conscience ring for his valet to get dressed and break his fast. Why was it that whenever someone got impatient that as if to spite this someone, time seemed to pass so incredibly slowly? It was a mystery that could easily turn a man into a philosopher. Pleasant situations, on the other hand, always appeared to pass in the blink of an eye.

  “Have you slept at all?” Bingley inquired several hours later, no sooner had he stepped into his friend's breakfast parlour and without much of a greeting except for a slight inclination of his head.

  “A little and not very well,” Darcy admitted.

  What point was there to deny the obvious, when the fact was so blatantly apparent?

  “And are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, I am. You seem to be eager to return to Netherfield,” he smiled, though his tenseness must have turned it more into a weird looking grimace seeing that Bingley started to grin broadly.

  “And not just I, I dare say. Come Darcy, you look as nervous as a boy on his first day of school. All will turn out well, trust me.”

  If only he could be as optimistic as his friend. Unfortunately Darcy happened to be more of a realist and with that had some trouble ignoring the fact that many a thing could go wrong. For example, what if he embarrassed himself? Or what if he fell into his usual habit of being rather short when nervous? And nervous he was, that much was certain. But alas, his luggage was loaded onto his friend's chaise and with some trepidation he climbed into Bingley's carriage and off towards Hertfordshire they went.

  Most of the journey they spent in companionable silence. There was little need for conversation. And at any rate. Bingley's happy smile spoke volumes about what he felt. Thank goodness, Darcy had had the foresight of asking his friend down to Kent. One could almost say, in the light of this new development, that Miss Elizabeth falling ill had been a fortunate coincidence, but, of course, he would have much preferred for her to stay healthy and not suffer as she must have done.

  But eventually Bingley broke the silence between them: “And what are you going to do to pursue Miss Elizabeth?”

  “What do you mean?” Darcy asked back.

  “Well, that you are in love with her, we have already established, but if I may say so, you hardly ever show her your appreciation. Not openly. I mean, I can see it by the way you look at her, for I have never seen you look at another woman with so much warmth. But Darcy, she does not know you as long and well as I do, meaning that you have to make your intentions a lot clearer before you lose her to another man,” his friend replied calmly.

  He might even have a point and suddenly it occurred to Darcy just how much of an idiot had been when initially judging Jane Bennet. But there he was guarding his feelings just as well while they were just as deep. But the thought of Miss Elizabeth possibly not reciprocating his feelings while he had made a complete fool of himself by showing her all he felt was mortifying.

  “And what do you suggest I should do?” he asked after a few moments in which he had been pondering his options, though not coming up with anything that was not either foolish, silly or scandalous.

  “Just be more open,” Bingley replied matter of factly.

  Well, that was not exactly helpful. For Bingley with his naturally open nature it perhaps was as easily said than done, but not for himself. But he would try. And as it was, they came ever so much closer to their destination. Barnet they had long left behind them and perhaps half an hour more and they would have reached Netherfield.

  “You are definitely over-thinking things, my friend,” Bingley carried on eventually.

  Yes, perhaps he was. Perhaps it was best just to follow his heart and let the brain rest for the time being.

  Chapter 18

  Elizabeth had slept surprisingly well and yet, when she finally woke up, much later than she normally would, she was still fatigued from the previous day's journey. And perhaps from the weird dream she had had. It had been very vividly and quite frankly scandalous to a point where even thinking about it made her blush. She could not even say whether any of this came close to the truth for she had never kissed a man and most certainly not on the lips. Yet in her sleep she had done much more. They had done much more.

  If Elizabeth closed her eyes again, she could almost see Mr Darcy's face close to hers as he was smiling down at her. Goodness, she really needed to wake up fully and get dressed before she dozed off again and was in danger of yet another such unwelcome fantasy, especially since she had to admit to herself that she had liked the prospect of being so close to him. No! This was silly and shameful.

  Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, Elizabeth needed a moment to suppress the dizziness that resulted from her hasty actions and then got dressed. It was one of the rare occasions where she was the last one to sit down to break her fast. Even Kitty and Lydia, never ones to rise early at the best of times, where already up and had half-finished their meal.

  “La, Lizzy, you look in need for a good walk into town,” Lydia chimed up. “And seeing that that is exactly where Kitty and I are going, you will have to come along. Mrs Philips will be so happy to see you and then there are the more important people to consider, if you get my meaning. As it is, and prepare yourself, for these news are quite horrible, but the militia is to leave Meryton in a month's time to encamp at Brighton. Oh, but perhaps you could talk to Papa and persuade him to go down there for the summer...”

  “And why would I do that?” Elizabeth inquired, pouring herself a cup of tea.

  “Why?” Lydia exclaimed as if her reason would be blatantl
y obvious.

  And it was, for that matter.

  “Well, just think of how sorry we will be without the officers here,” her youngest sister continued. “I cannot bear the thought! No more decent men to look at or dance with. And you have to admit that they were always so very amusing to have around. But if Papa continues to refuse to go to Brighton all that will be lost forever and our hearts will be broken!”

  Had Elizabeth been in another state of mind, she would have smiled at her sister's naive way of thinking.

  “Oh, and besides, I did not get the chance to tell you as yet, but Mr Wickham is not to marry Mary King after all. She has been removed to Bristol to stay with her uncle and Wickham is safe. Not that he cared very much for her in the first place. I always said so. And she really is not very pretty with all those freckles of hers. So, Lizzy, you have every reason to want to go likewise now have you not?”

  No, she definitely had not. Not after what she had found out about the man. As it was, she was rather glad that Mary King was now safe from Wickham, not to mention her fortune.

  “Lizzy?”

  “Sorry, Lydia, but I think it is a good thing that the militia leaves Meryton and will be far away from us once again. It is the best news I have had in a good while. You have to admit that all those young men have caused quite a stir and not always in the positive sense.”

  “But...” Kitty stammered, looking helplessly at Lydia who just stared at Elizabeth in some kind of shock.

  Whatever they had expected, this was most certainly not it.

  “That is silly, Lizzy. Of course it was a good thing to have the officers here. Or go with them to Brighton. Oh, where is Mama? She quite agrees with me, you know?”

  Of that Elizabeth was quite sure, but it did not change her own opinion in the slightest.

  “Lydia, if any of those men had developed any serious interest in either of you, they would have made their honest and honourable intentions clear by now, especially now that they are leaving. But as it is, they have not and running after them will not make any difference in regards to that.”

  “But I want to go to Brighton!” Lydia wailed, throwing down her napkin onto her but half-empty plate splattering some gravy onto the table cloth.

  Another thing aside from her silliness and temper tantrums that had not changed since Elizabeth had left for Kent. Lydia was obviously still in the habit of loading more food onto her plate than she would ever be able to eat, just so nobody else could get the nicest pieces that she might fancy herself.

  “Enough!” Mr Bennet's voice sounded up behind them as he stood in the doorway, looking surprisingly stern. “I have already made it abundantly clear, Lydia, that we will not go to Brighton and that is the end of it. No tantrum, persuasion or form of emotional black mail will change my opinion on the matter.”

  “But Mr Bennet, do consider your daughters...” his wife now interjected.

  “That, my dear is exactly what I am doing.”

  Was it possible that Mr Darcy had warned him about a certain person likewise? Her father appeared to be uncommonly determined in his refusal that appeared to have little to do with his unwillingness to leave his own comfortable home in exchange for some rented ones by the sea side. He moreover looked very pointedly at her in an almost conspiratorial manner. Yes, he appeared to have been informed. That was a good thing, for if he had wavered at any point in his decision not to go to Brighton she would have had to speak to him and what then? As yet everybody still thought that Mr Bingley's turning up in Kent had been nothing but coincidence, a testimony to his amiable ways and willingness to help. Everybody, though? Seeing that her father clearly was of the opinion that she was informed about Lieutenant Wickham's dissolute ways, perhaps that was not actually true. Question was then, however, how much did her father know?

  Not that it mattered and seeing that Lydia was still skulking and Kitty decidedly taken aback, perhaps visiting their aunt in Meryton was not such a bad idea at all. It was needless to say, though, that it only cheered her sisters up a very little and it was only when they spotted a group of young men in their regimentals that the two of them forgot their woes and hastily dashed over to greet their acquaintances.

  Mr Wickham was among them, of course. And he was a charming and gallant as he had always been. But now there was something about his overly pleasant ways that made Elizabeth feel uncomfortable. Now that she knew how he really was, what he was, it was easy to detect that his smiles hardly ever reached his eyes and if it did, it looked more as if he was amused by letting other people on than an honest smile. How she could ever have thought him to be pleasant was quite beyond her now. George Wickham was anything but.

  Yet there he was smilingly addressing her while her sisters happily flirted with his comrades: “Good morning Miss Bennet. And how did you like Kent? Was Lady Catherine her usual amiable self? And is Miss de Bourgh just as plain and dull as she has always been?”

  “Good morning, Lieutenant. I thank you, my stay was a very pleasant one,” she replied, ignoring his inquiries as to the two ladies.

  While Lady Catherine de Bourgh had indeed been much as he had described her, her daughter most certainly was not. If anything, she was a most mysterious little creature and anything but dull once one got to know her a little better. Plain she was not exactly either, it was just that she was so very quiet most of the time and pale that she was easily overlooked. But once one took notice of her, one could see that her features were pleasant and very delicate, her eyes soulful and that her mouth held a decided trace of good humour. No, while she once would have agreed with him, she had long since formed a complete different opinion of the young heiress.

  “And your cousin and his new wife?”

  “Were very amiable, I thank you. I had a very pleasant stay in every aspect one could say. At first our circle was a little limited, as one might expect, but thankfully Mr Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam stayed over Easter and with the two gentlemen there, we had quite a merry time.”

  Did she imagine it, or did his face fall at the mention of Mr Darcy and the colonel? Before she could decide whether his smile had faltered it was firmly back in place, even slightly triumphant.

  “Ah, well, I can easily imagine how it must have been if you have come to consider Mr Darcy good company, Miss Bennet. You need not say more,” he grinned slyly.

  “I beg your pardon, Sir, but I think you misunderstood me. I was quite in earnest. My opinion of the man has indeed much improved over the past few weeks.”

  Completely taken aback Wickham stammered: “Has it?”

  “What happened?” Lydia interrupted, tired of Lieutenant Denny's quite honest attentions it seemed.

  “Your sister has taken a liking to Mr Darcy,” Wickham, having regained his countenance, replied laughingly.

  However, there was definitely a flicker of concern in his eyes as his eyes flickered from between wither sister.

  “Well, he is mightily handsome, if only he were not such a dull fellow,” her youngest sister commented off-handedly. “Pity actually.”

  It was pretty apparent that again this was not a reply Wickham had expected.

  But before he could say anything in reply Lydia familiarly continued: “But he is nothing in comparison to a redcoat, of course. No man looks really good without regimentals. Do not worry, Wickham, he cannot compare to you. And besides, you are anything but dull.”

  As her younger sisters flirting got a little out of hand, though Kitty was slightly less obvious than Lydia, it was high time they turned their steps towards Mrs Philips' abode, which thankfully was only a stone's throw away.

  Chapter 19

  They had barely stepped into their aunt's parlour when Mrs Philips, overjoyed at seeing Elizabeth began sharing the extraordinary news she had just heard from her cook.

  “Have you heard the news, Mr Bingley is to arrive today. He had his housekeeper over at Netherfield quite in hysterics when she heard that she had barely any time to prepare
for his arrival and consequently Mrs Thomas went over to the inn to hire a couple of extra maids to at least get as much done as they possibly can. Now is that not good news?”

  It appeared as if their mother had not had the chance to come over the previous day after Elizabeth had retired to share the even greater news that Mr Bingley came to prepare for his wedding to her eldest daughter.

  “Oh, but of course he would come as soon as possible seeing that he is engaged to Jane,” Kitty smiled widely.

  “Oh?”

  For once their aunt was speechless. Used to having the freshest gossip to spread, for her news to fall completely flat was nothing Mrs Philips was used to in any shape or form.