Ardently Loved

by Lory Lilian

  “Well, I—”

  “Here me out, Mr. Wickham. This evening should be perfect for Jane. If you do anything to ruin it in the slightest, I shall put aside every precaution—regardless of the consequences. You will be thrown out of here immediately; that, I can promise you. Even more so—you should take good care of Lydia. All the advantages you have from this marriage are due to her. If she ever decides to return to her family, you will immediately become destitute. That is another promise.”

  “Lizzy dearest, is anything wrong?” her uncle asked as he and her father joined them.

  “No indeed, Uncle. Mr. Wickham and I were only having a brief discussion. You and Papa may continue it from here. I believe Mr. Wickham still needs to understand his true position within our family. Now, please excuse me; I think I am expected.”

  She walked away quickly, struggling to wear a proper smile. She felt easier, more at peace with herself, and satisfied at letting her true thoughts known. Wickham’s days of torment were at an end.

  She noticed Darcy on the other side of the room with Mr. Collins and the Miss Kendals at his side. He was still having a difficult night. But his face was slowly relaxing, and his gaze, although still dark, seemed less troubled.

  The ball was about to begin.

  Chapter 10

  As time passed, the weather chilled again, and the rain turned to snow, but guests continued to arrive. Slowly, Jane regained her calm and confidence and behaved like a true mistress on the arm of her beloved.

  Lydia was her usual self: loud, careless, and barely tempered by Mrs. Gardiner. Wickham, however, stayed near Mr. Bennet and did little more than greet acquaintances briefly.

  Gradually, Elizabeth’s spirits rose, and she found the confidence and peace to enjoy the evening. She had no chance to speak with Darcy, but she eagerly awaited the first set. Until then, she happily spent time talking to Charlotte, the two friends dearly missing each other.

  “Dear Eliza, I cannot believe it has been seven months since I saw you.”

  “Too long, my dear Charlotte. I am so pleased that you are here. I know it was not an easy journey in this weather. I must say you look beautiful. Marriage seems to suit you very well.”

  “You might not believe it, but it does. Mr. Collins is truly a good, attentive husband. I have no reason to complain, and I am content with my life, especially now that God has blessed me with a child.”

  “I am happy to hear that, Charlotte—very happy. I hope you know that.”

  “I do, my dear. And I also know I have to apologize to you. Mr. Collins does not always make the wisest decisions on how to act or what to say, especially when Lady Catherine is involved.”

  “There is no need for apologies, I assure you. All is forgotten, and you must remember I am not one to be influenced by such intervention.” Elizabeth laughed.

  “True. I am happy to be here. Jane and Mr. Bingley look lovely together. They will have a blissful marriage; anyone can see that.”

  “I trust it will be so, Charlotte.”

  “Mr. Darcy looks very handsome,” Charlotte continued. “Even more handsome than last year when you were reluctant to dance with him. Do you remember what I told you then?”

  Elizabeth felt herself blushing. “I do remember; you have always been wise and perceptive. And yes, all the gentlemen are handsome—just as they should be at a ball. Now let us speak about you: How are you feeling? When is your child due?”

  Their conversation continued until Mr. Collins approached, declaring he had missed his wife and wished to be sure of her comfort. Then Lady Lucas sat near them, followed by Mrs. Bennet, who repeated several times that never had there been a more beautiful young woman in Meryton than Jane nor a more elegant ball.

  Elizabeth slowly moved away from a debate that threatened to become too animated for her taste. She walked around, pleased to see only contented and friendly faces. Even the guests from London entertained themselves quite well, making new acquaintances and showing easy manners.

  Music introducing the first set silenced conversation and filled Elizabeth’s heart with joyful eagerness. She stopped and glanced around, catching Darcy’s gaze from across the room. He moved towards her, and with each step, her heart skipped a beat. She had seen that look and the tentative smile that brought dimples to his handsome face. Only this time, she knew their true meaning.

  “…how ardently I admire and love you…”

  “Miss Bennet…”

  “Mr. Darcy…”

  “May I…?” He stretched his hand, and she put hers into his strong palm.

  Hands entwined, they walked towards the dance floor and took their place behind Bingley and Jane. Absently, Elizabeth observed Colonel Fitzwilliam with Miss Godwin and a long row of pairs beyond.

  From the sides, curious eyes watched them, but she cared for little except his closeness, his scent, and his strong yet gentle fingers exciting her through their gloves.

  He never averted his eyes from hers but remained silent. The music brought them together and apart again, their hands and shoulders touching briefly.

  “The evening began with a little distress; I hope it did not ruin your disposition, sir.”

  “Not all, I assure you—at least, not now while we are dancing.”

  A short pause, then: “I must say you handled the situation remarkably well, Miss Bennet.”

  “Thank you, sir. I was afraid I overreacted. I am not always master of my words when I am angry.”

  “I do recall that, but you are usually correct in your harshness.”

  Another turn of the dance and modest smiles.

  “You are too forgiving, sir.”

  “Not at all, I assure you.”

  Several turns and deep, wordless gazes.

  The more time they spent together in the dance and the more his touch affected her, the more comfortable she became with his closeness and the more daring she became.

  “Do you talk by rule while you are dancing, Mr. Darcy?” she eventually asked, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He apparently remembered as well as she did.

  “Not really. As you know, I rarely dance, and when I do, it is more an obligation—with two signification exceptions, one year apart.”

  “That was an excellent reply and will do for the present. I must continue since I am the one with admittedly more experience in this area. Perhaps, by and by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.”

  “I agree. Especially the private balls hosted at Netherfield. Do you talk by rule while dancing, Miss Bennet?”

  “I have no rules. It depends on my feelings and those of my partner.”

  “And what do you intend to do in this case? Surely you know my feelings perfectly well by now.”

  She felt her cheeks and neck flaming and smiled with all her heart. “I do indeed, sir. And therefore, little talking is needed—only to avoid boredom. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together.”

  “I agree. I am glad to see a certain similarity in the turn of our minds, Miss Bennet.”

  She made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked her which season of the year was her favourite. She was taken by surprise and needed a little time to reply.

  “I have no favourite; it depends on the company and the events that fate has prepared for me. This year, spring was less favoured than the others.”

  She felt her eyes held by his when he responded. “I pray we can remedy that. Spring is beautiful beyond words at Pemberley.”

  Elizabeth was so lost by his daring reply that she skipped a step and almost tangled the row of dancers as Mr. Collins had done the previous year. She clenched Darcy’s hand and quickly recovered, looking around in embarrassment. From near the wall, her
mother was casting reproachful glares—obviously displeased by her weak performance during the most important set of the ball.

  Nearby, her father and Mr. Gardiner hid their faces behind their wine glasses, but it was not difficult to guess their amusement. She returned her attention to her partner, who kept his smile.

  “I imagine all the seasons are wonderful at Pemberley,” she said.

  “They are; but even more, as you said, it is about the company and the events that fate prepares for one. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, is it not, Miss Bennet?”

  “How could I dare disagree with you, Mr. Darcy, since it is surely to my advantage?”

  Darcy made no answer, nor did she expect one. They continued to dance with few words but much feeling until the two dances came to an unwelcome end. Walking towards her family gave Elizabeth the pleasure of holding hands with him for a few delicious moments until propriety demanded they separate.

  Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner greeted Darcy joyfully while, from a far window, Wickham looked at them intently, remaining unmoved and alone with only his drink for company. Even his wife seemed to have forgotten about him.

  “Indeed, sir, you have delighted us all with your superior dancing,” Mr. Bennet said in jest, taking Darcy by surprise. He sipped a little wine, glancing discreetly at Elizabeth while the eldest gentlemen continued. “Especially Sir William and Mr. Collins, who mentioned several times how evident it is that you belong to the first circles. However, I pride myself that your partner did not disgrace you. Also mentioned several times was the surprise of your opening the ball with Lizzy. But surely you knew that might happen.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I am pleased that such inappropriate remarks amused you, Mr. Bennet. I do not remember being complimented so much for my dancing in the past,” he answered in the same tone. “If I danced well, it is surely due to my partner. And if you and Miss Elizabeth do not disapprove, I would be honoured to ask her for a second set.”

  Talking to her aunt Gardiner with her back to the conversation, Elizabeth frowned.

  “Well, well—you will have to ask her, as I do not intend to involve myself in dancing in any way. But I must say that I like your sharp mockery, Mr. Darcy. I am pleased to discover more of your pleasant traits every day.”

  “You flatter me, sir,” Darcy declared sternly. Mr. Bennet did not withhold his laughter, nor did Mr. Gardiner.

  Elizabeth was filled with joy. He was in the company of her father and uncle, joking with them and daringly allowing himself to be teased and mocked. And he wished to dance with her for a second set, showing his preference and his intention to everyone beyond any doubts. “Tomorrow” was closer and closer.

  “Miss Bennet, how are you? Did I mention how remarkably well you look tonight?” Mr. Godwin said, bowing to her.

  “You did, sir.” She laughed. “But I enjoy hearing it nevertheless, as does any young lady.”

  “And we have come to secure a set before your ball card is full,” the two Wilson brothers declared.

  “Bingley has done an excellent job with this ball,” Adam Godwin added. “It has just started, and we are all exceedingly pleased that we attended.”

  “Godwin, keep in mind that I shall soon fetch Miss Bennet for the next set,” the colonel interjected while he politely kissed Miss Godwin’s hand. “After a most delightful first set, I consider myself fortunate to enjoy another one so soon.”

  “Did Miss Bingley not dance the first set?” David Wilson said unexpectedly. “That is a significant fault of ours. How did none of us realize it?”

  In truth, both Bingley sisters were in a corner, chatting with obvious ire as they glared towards them.

  “It was rude of us, indeed,” Adam Goodwin admitted. “Please excuse me; I shall hurry to ask her for the next. Bingley will be upset if we offend his sister.”

  “We should remedy this,” the colonel agreed. “But I doubt Bingley’s concern is very far from his intended—as it should be.”

  The group soon was split, and Elizabeth remained in her aunt’s company. Soon, her mother joined them, asking for a cup of tea to calm her agitation.

  “Dear Lizzy, what has come over you that you missed the steps? And with Mr. Darcy, of all men! Where were you thinking? What will he say now?”

  “Mama, I assure you there is no reason for distress. It was only a little mistake. Mr. Darcy and I are still friends.” She smiled.

  “Do not smile so carelessly, Lizzy. Lady Lucas has mentioned to me that Mr. Darcy is only accustomed to the most elegant partners, and he dances only at illustrious gatherings.”

  “He seemed to enjoy himself well enough,” added Mrs. Gardiner.

  “I hope so, dear sister. And that annoying Mr. Collins kept telling me about Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. Why would I care about any of them? And Lady Lucas gave me advice on the wedding breakfast. She thinks her daughter’s marriage to Collins compares with Jane’s marriage to Mr. Bingley! How silly is that?”

  “Mama, please do not speak so loud,” Elizabeth begged, looking around. “Let us not start an argument that might upset Jane or Mr. Bingley.”

  Fortunately, the music began, and Mrs. Bennet’s voice was covered by the sound of the instruments. She continued to expose her displeasure to her sister while Elizabeth rose, looking for the colonel to claim his set.

  A couple of minutes passed, and the dancers took their places. Miss Bingley proudly led the set with Mr. Godwin. Mr. Bingley was not on the dance floor, nor anywhere to be seen.

  Jane was talking to Mrs. Philips, smiling charmingly, but Elizabeth knew her too well to miss the little shadow on her sister’s countenance. The eldest Miss Bennet moved towards them, and when she was close enough, their mother spoke.

  “My dear, what is happening? Why are you not dancing? Where is Mr. Bingley? And the colonel?”

  “They are all in the library, Mama. You have no reason to worry. Lizzy, would you come with me, please? I could use your help. Please excuse us; we shall return shortly.”

  Elizabeth took her sister’s arm while their mother continued to whisper inquiries.

  “Jane, something is wrong; I can see that. What is happening?”

  “Come, my dear, let us go to the library. Mr. Darcy and the colonel must leave at once and wish to take their farewell of you.”

  ***

  Elizabeth stopped and held her sister’s arm in profound distress.

  “What are you talking about, dearest?”

  “A messenger came from Lady Catherine. It seems Miss de Bough is very ill; they fear for her life. I am sure Mr. Darcy will explain it to you.”

  Elizabeth’s heart immediately filled with anger and rejection. Surely, it was only a mischievous scheme of Lady Catherine to bring Darcy to Rosings. A child could see that. Certainly, nobody would believe such an obvious deception.

  Inside the library, the three gentlemen talked excitedly. Darcy was pacing the room while Bingley and the colonel seemed to argue. At the ladies’ entrance, they stopped. The master of Netherfield walked to his beloved and took her hand.

  “Elizabeth, Jane, please take a seat,” he invited them.

  A mere glance was enough for Elizabeth to notice she had been wrong; all three men were giving the matter more consideration than she thought it deserved.

  “I briefly informed Lizzy about the messenger,” Jane whispered.

  “What happened? Is Miss De Bourgh ill?” The lump in her throat barely allowed Elizabeth to speak. A heavy burden was growing and pressing on her chest.

  “It seems so,” Darcy answered. “She fell ill a few days ago. Aunt Catherine sent me a letter right away, but I neglected to open it until now.”

  She remembered his mentioning the letter in the morning when they were alone in the library—when he said he had someth
ing to tell her but wished to wait and be sure everything was perfect. And now he might leave again. He would not call on her tomorrow.

  “I confess we first believed my aunt wished to bring us to Rosings, using this as a pretext,” the colonel declared bluntly. “Darcy even dismissed the messenger severely.”

  “True,” Darcy admitted, sitting in the same chair as he had that morning, mere inches from her.

  “I never considered taking the matter seriously or leaving Netherfield. I still have important matters to resolve. But the messenger also had a note from Lord Matlock; he is also at Rosings. My uncle brought a doctor from London. He is concerned Anne will not recover.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” both sisters whispered.

  Ashamed of her selfish feelings and embarrassed by her hasty judgement, Elizabeth bit her lip to stay her tears. She dared meet Darcy’s eyes; she saw a troubled darkness there, and a frightening chill overwhelmed her.

  “We must leave at once if we are to reach Rosings by morning. I am very sorry. Very sorry indeed,” Darcy spoke only to her. The others’ intrigued looks suddenly did not matter.

  “You must not be sorry, sir. It is your duty to go, and we all know you will accomplish it.”

  “I am sorry for making a wrong judgement again earlier today. You were right once more. I should not have striven for perfection but used our time more wisely.”

  She blushed but held his gaze and only nodded in silence. Turmoil gripped her heart.

  “I hope you will find Miss de Bourgh better than you fear…and that she will soon recover completely,” she whispered.

  “Thank you…”

  “It will be a long and difficult journey in this weather,” she continued.

  “That is the least of our worries—only fifty miles of good road.”

  “I wish that you both travel safely. Is there anything more we can do to help?”

  “No…but your genuine concern is greatly appreciated.”

  “Darcy, would you like for me to come with you?” Bingley asked, and Jane paled slightly.