Elizabeth Bennet’s Secret Protector

by Barbara Leyton

  Chapter Seven

  Darcy was not one for dancing and socialising, and he had not given any thought to finding a wife. So as adept as he was in the company of other gentlemen, he was rather unpractised in the art of introducing himself to the female chaperone of a young lady in the hope that she might dance with him.

  The chaperone—whom he quickly learnt was the girl’s mother—did not make it easy for him. The woman’s manners were appalling and he was alarmed by the way in which she attempted to divert his attention towards another one of her girls. The eldest, he was assured. She was fair, but in his eyes she was nothing compared to her sister. He would dance with her—and only her.

  Finally, he managed to convey this to the mother, who was not at all pleased. The young lady, on the other hand, appeared more than happy to join him on the floor. He felt curiously overjoyed—until she explained her reasons for accepting so readily.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I do not know if I could have endured another minute of my mother’s fussing.’ Her hand flew to her mouth in a way he found profoundly endearing. ‘Oh, you must forgive me. She is rather difficult as you have seen, but that is no excuse for indiscretion on my part.’

  ‘What an unusual thing for a young lady to say,’ he remarked as they took their places.

  ‘Indiscreet, of course,’ she said. ‘But hardly unusual. Perhaps you do not know many young ladies.’

  ‘I have a sister some years younger than you.’

  She smiled. ‘And she is never heard to utter a bad word about her mother, even in unguarded moments? She must have saint-like restraint.’

  He dipped his head. ‘She has never known our mother. I rather think she would vow to never speak a bad word of her if she only had the chance to meet her.’

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘Please forgive me.’ She stepped away and her hands flew to her temples. ‘You might not believe it, but I am not usually so trite or so impertinent. I am truly sorry.’

  He waved away her concerns. He had not been offended by her words—if anything, her outburst against her mother was refreshing for its honesty.

  They resumed their dancing, though he wished the musicians and the other dancers would fade away and leave them alone in the vast room to talk. But they did not, of course, and he was left asking himself how best to broach a difficult subject in such a public place. After all, it was unlikely that he could get an audience with her in private—not with her mother seemingly so willing to push him towards the eldest girl.

  He was even more worried now than he had been before, for he had reached an uncomfortable conclusion—he was not sure the mother even understood the danger her daughter was in.

  They danced and he relished the fleeting contact with her. She wore gloves and he had an almost feverish longing that she might take them off so that he could feel the softness of her skin against his.

  He cleared his throat. Never had his heart beaten so fast. Never had his throat felt so dry! He was a reticent man, but he had always spoken with fluency whenever he was called upon to do so. Now, he struggled to summon the words he desperately needed to say to her.

  ‘Miss Elizabeth, you must forgive me for addressing the matter directly, but I have heard of your recent change in fortunes.’

  She stopped moving and looked up at him. The corner of her mouth twitched. He thought she must be outraged at his impertinence. After all, it was not proper to discuss a lady’s fortune in public—or even in private, if one was not related to or married to her.

  ‘Please do not think ill of me. I have an estate in Derbyshire and ten thousand a year.’

  She frowned.

  Darcy looked away. Now he had made himself seem boastful. What was it about this woman that caused his every social grace to evaporate and leave him looking like a buffoon?

  ‘Forgive me,’ he sighed, at pains to explain himself before the dance ended and they were interrupted. ‘But it seems to me that you have entered a lion’s den without knowing it. There are those who might seek to take advantage of your fortune and the fact that you are unaccustomed to having such wealth.’

  She stopped moving and stared up at him.

  ‘Again I apologise for my plain speaking, but I thought it only right to warn you.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked suddenly.

  ‘Well…’ He cleared his throat and scanned the room. ‘Because people have always been desperate to make a fortune and for them you might resemble—forgive the expression—easy prey.’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. The scowl he had seen earlier returned to her lovely face, albeit briefly. He was not sure whether he might have preferred it to the look of cold indifference that replaced it. ‘Why would you see fit to warn me? We are strangers, after all.’

  ‘Yes, but…’ he stopped. It was a valid question and one he did not have an answer to. After all, even he was not sure why he had dashed across the room and clumsily asked her to dance. All so he could warn her, a total stranger to him. She was right—it was an odd thing to do. ‘I do not know. I saw you enter and…’

  Her eyes sparkled. ‘And you thought, there she is. The young lady we have all been discussing.’

  ‘No, not at all. Of course not. I only learnt of your situation earlier when my friend told me.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ she said with a smile that both chilled him and softened his heart to her, for though it was frosty it had a frankness to it that he could not help but admire. ‘Mr. Darcy, you must forgive me, but I have had many people present themselves to me in recent days. All of them without exception have claimed to have only my interests and wellbeing in mind. So you see, I am—rightly or wrongly—a little sceptical of such offers of assistance and what they truly mean.’

  He flushed. ‘Miss Elizabeth, I assure you there is nothing underhand in my approach. I have gone against my better judgement to seek you out and warn you. Do you think that I have invented this threat as a means to seduce you and somehow extract your fortune for my own gain? Nonsense! I would never seek to take advantage of a young lady of a lower rank to my own.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ she said with ice in her voice. ‘You are very kindly attempting to correct the views of the silly young lady who has lately come into money. Mr. Darcy, I must assure you—for it appears your friend omitted this fact from his account—that my father is a gentleman; that you and I are of the same situation in life.’

  He had not expected such a response from her. No, his words had had the opposite effect than what he had intended. All he had meant was to reassure her that his intentions could only be honourable. Before he could attempt to explain again, the music stopped and she did not wait even a moment before she hurried off and was lost to the crowd.

  Darcy stared after her in dismay and wondered if there was any sense in seeking a second dance when she would no doubt reject him now and the mother appeared bent on having him dance with one of the other daughters.

  No, there was not. He made his way through the crowd and left the place without bothering to speak to Lord Henry. He had even less appetite to speak to that man than he had before. And he could not bear to hear another ill word spoken about Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

  What a curious young lady, he thought as he reached the relative peace of the street outside. A peculiar thought entered his mind then. He had declared himself entirely uninterested in pursuing her. It seemed to him that he had told her a great falsehood, for at that moment she was all he could think about.

  Chapter Eight

  Elizabeth Bennet was usually so fond of dancing but she had little tolerance for insincerity, which was rife in that place. Despite her discomfort, she knew better than to leave Almack’s early. Even if she reviled the place, it meant a great deal to her mother and she would not cause a scene that would result in their banishment. After all, the Duchess of Castell had gone out of her way to make them welcome and secure them entry, so the least she could do was tolerate the hundreds of sets of eyes that followed her no matter where she w
ent that evening.

  She found the scrutiny almost too much to bear.

  As soon as they returned to the house, she resisted her sisters’ entreaties to join them in the drawing room to discuss the evening’s events. As if she had any desire to relive it!

  She closed her bedroom door behind her and threw herself gratefully on the bed. The fire blazed in the hearth and she felt guilty for feeling so miserable despite her good fortune.

  But what a night it had been!

  No sooner had they gained entry to the place than she had felt their stares. She had done her best to ignore the looks and pretend she was enjoying the evening as much as her sisters. And she had been pleased for them, but also protective. She could only imagine what those little groups were saying about them all. She did not care so much on her own behalf, but it hurt her that people might speak in such a way about her sisters.

  Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled her dance with Mr. Darcy. She had thought him so handsome at first. She had seen something in him—oh, it had struck her that he understood her!

  ‘You fool,’ she muttered, burying her head in her blanket to ensure she could not be overheard by anyone passing outside the door. ‘You believe you are wise enough to tell who has ill intentions and yet you took one look at this man and silently declared him your champion!’

  She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the bitter, stinging tears. That had only been the beginning of it. After her dance with Mr. Darcy, she had returned to her family. She had not had a minute’s peace from that moment, as gentleman after gentleman sought to dance with her.

  She might have enjoyed the evening were it not for what Darcy had said. His words had echoed in her mind for the rest of the evening. In fact, they still did. If she held her breath, she could hear them in her memory.

  How scathing he had been! She recalled the look of utter contempt on his face when he wrongly assumed she thought he was seeking to woo her. The very thought of it had been repulsive to him.

  That awful man!

  She told herself she did not care about his opinion and that he did not matter in any case, but she could not fully believe that. She did care. Of course she cared—why else would she have allowed his words to form a cloud over her evening?

  She rolled over and stared at the ceiling, clutching the blanket to her chest as if it was the only thing that might stop her from sinking.

  The worst thing was that he had been right. Well, she had had her suspicions before they went to Almack’s as a result of the crowd of young ladies suddenly seeking out her friendship. Even so, Darcy had been the first one to confirm it to her and the actions of those other gentlemen had reinforced what he said.

  They had been perfectly polite and gentlemanly—that was not the problem. They had smiled and laughed and flattered. They had offered to fetch her refreshments. But it had been clear to her from their eyes that they had not seen her. No, they had had only her fortune in mind as they did everything in their power to make themselves indispensable to her.

  She shook her head. That might not be so bad. After all, she had seen through their acts so it was not like she was in danger of being misled.

  But what of Jane? And, to a greater extent, what of Kitty and Lydia? Her younger sisters had been thrilled at having danced the entire evening. Lizzy had tried to warn her mother that perhaps it was not the best environment for Lydia, who by rights should not be out yet at her age, but Mrs. Bennet had not heeded her concerns. None of her sisters had paused to question the intention of the young men who courted their attention so enthusiastically. Were those young men genuine in their attentions? Or was it merely an attempt to find a wife whose sister’s fortune he could then control?

  She sighed. Mr. Darcy’s words had cast it all into such harsh relief. She had gone to that place reluctantly, but with a sense that she could hold her head high and walk amongst those people as equals.

  But they did not consider her an equal at all. He had been repulsed at the thought that his concern might be mistaken for an attempt to pursue her hand.

  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and told herself that Fitzwilliam Darcy’s opinion of her did not matter in the slightest, but she could not believe it no matter how hard she tried. All she could do was picture his slightly perplexed expression and the strong, masculine set of his jaw. There was something different about him to all the others that had come after and yet his words had been the most scathing of all.

  She told herself to stop reflecting on his cruel words and sleep, but she knew in her heart that sleep would be a long time coming that night, if she managed to rest at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Darcy was awake with the dawn. He had slept fitfully. His mind had been too occupied with his failure to adequately warn Miss Elizabeth and he could not relax.

  Even now, she was all he could think about. He gave up on the possibility of sleep and moved to the window seat. He leant his head against the misted glass and cursed himself for his poor approach. Why had he not waited and tried to get his thoughts in order so that he might explain everything as succinctly as possible?

  No, he decided, that would not have worked. Up close, her lively eyes had the effect of beguiling him. Even if he had prepared a statement and committed it to memory, he doubted he could have withstood her scrutiny. Her eyes seemed capable of stripping a person apart and seeing the truth in them.

  That is, he thought, some consolation. Perhaps she will cope well enough alone without help.

  Then he recalled the predatory look in his friend’s eyes and doubted it.

  No matter how clever she was, she was faced with more scheming and greed than she could ever have encountered before. Even if she successfully saw off the malicious intentions of ninety-nine men, there might be one waiting who was shrewd enough to mislead her.

  That was the thing with wealth, as he well knew. People would go to remarkable lengths to attain it. At least in his case, he had enough experience of enterprising young ladies to know when they were interested in him and when they were interested in his wealth. It was easy, actually. He simply assumed it was the latter and then merrily went about his day without giving it a second thought. He supposed it might have caused him far more trouble had he actually met a young lady whom he wished to make his wife, but that had not happened yet.

  He sighed. The thought of a ‘wife’ made him picture Miss Elizabeth Bennet roaming the halls of Pemberley. He shook his head as he watched dawn gradually lighten the sky. Rooftops and chimneys started to appear where moments before there had been nothing but endless darkness.

  There was nothing else for it but to return to that awful place and hope that she attended the next ball. It seemed to him that she had little appetite for it, but he had seen the look on her mother’s face. He had seen it countless times before. It was nothing more than greed. It did not matter that her daughter had inherited a fortune—she wanted more. She would not rest until all her daughters were married off.

  Fear gripped him then. Miss Elizabeth Bennet had struck him as a rather wilful and self-possessed young lady, but what was that in the face of a mother who wanted her married?

  He frowned. No, he did not have the luxury of time. It did not matter that the daughter was no fool, for what if the mother was taken in by some snake in gentleman’s clothing? No, Darcy must intervene again at once before it was too late. It was settled.

  Grumbling, he returned to his bed, not wishing to be delayed in the morning. He was dissatisfied at the realisation that he would need to seek Lord Henry’s help in order to gain entry. It was Lord Henry who had procured their vouchers to the place and Darcy had only a vague impression of what needed to be done. Something to do with charming the patronesses of the place.

  Of course, Darcy might have attended the assembly rooms himself, but he knew well the limitations of his own charm. His wealth and status might be impressive to the young ladies in attendance, but they were matched or exceeded by the means of tho
se society ladies who governed the place. It was best to attend as the guest of a friend rather than seek his own membership. He did not know if he could suffer another evening in Lord Henry’s company—his impertinence was staggering and Darcy was convinced he had not been so unpleasant at university.

  And then it struck him. He did not need to enlist Lord Henry’s help at all. No, it was so simple he wondered why he had not thought of it earlier.

  He pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, despite feeling rattled and far from tired. A plan was forming in his mind and he was not sure if it was the result of a lack of sleep, for it was so outlandish that he did not know what to make of it.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Darcy, my dear friend!’ Charles Bingley practically bolted from his chair when his friend was shown into the room. ‘What a wonderful surprise! I was not expecting you!’

  Darcy bowed his head. ‘I apologise for not sending word.’

  ‘Nonsense! You are always welcome here, my dear man. Come and sit with me! Oh, my word, Darcy. Have you received unfavourable news? You do not look at all happy.’

  On hearing this, Miss Caroline Bingley’s head turned towards the gentlemen for a moment though she gave no other indication of interest in their conversation.

  ‘You must not worry, Charles,’ Darcy reassured. ‘Nothing has happened. Just a rather…’ He glanced at Miss Bingley, wondering why she had not sought to excuse herself and allow them to speak freely. ‘Perhaps you might be inclined to take a walk with me. It is unseasonably mild and altogether pleasant outdoors.’

  Miss Bingley spoke before her brother could. ‘No, you must not leave on my account. Stay here—I insist upon it! I shall leave you alone to speak privately. I had been meaning to go through my things and see what I might be able to give to the poor.’