Flirtation and Folly

by Anna Harlow

  “My uncle was very fond of Wickham, and he did indeed intend that he should receive the rectory on Pemberley estate,” said Fitzwilliam, frowning. “I do not know the particulars, mind you, but Darcy has said that instead of the position, Wickham asked him for money, and afterwards gambled it all away. It is not for me to speak freely of that gentleman’s behaviors, of course. But you must trust me when I tell you he is not fit company.”

  “So he has lied about Darcy’s treatment of the situation?” Elizabeth said, sighing.

  “May I make a suggestion, my dear?” the Colonel asked her. “Why do you not bring this concern before Darcy? He may be able to explain it far better. But as for this little game of flirting, I am convinced it should come to an end. I meant to tease the man, not torture him. They are not one and the same.”

  “I fear you are right,” she agreed. “And all it causes me is pain.”

  “May I ask you something?” he asked. “For, though it is nowhere near as significant, I have been quite curious about it since last evening.”

  “What is it, sir?”

  “I have noticed that both you and Miss Charlotte Lucas habitually call your sister Kitty, and yet her husband always refers to her as Catherine. Why might that be?”

  Elizabeth smirked. “Everyone in Meryton knows my sister as Kitty. However, for reasons which remain too hidden to know, Mr. Collins clearly does not feel the same. He has always called her Catherine ever since they met, despite knowing full well that nobody else does so.”

  Fitzwilliam laughed at this.

  “What do you find so amusing, sir?”

  “A mere speculation,” he admitted, now blushing slightly.

  “Tell me at once,” Elizabeth scolded. “You know there are no secrets between us.”

  “It is something I have been amusing myself with ever since I first laid eyes on your cousin,” he admitted, grinning. “For, have you not noticed that though every other person forced to listen to one of his sermons is bored to tears, Lady Catherine can never seem to tear her eyes away, and hangs on his every word?”

  Elizabeth giggled. “No, sir, I had not remarked upon it. When I went to church last Sunday, my eyes were too fixed on Mr. Darcy, and the fact that he was seated by Miss Anne. I confess, anything that Lady Catherine may have been doing quite escaped my notice.”

  “Indeed, I remarked upon it quite easily, since you were completely ignoring me,” he remarked dryly. “I suppose the old bird must find something about the gentleman to be a fascination, though everyone else may not recognize any such thing. But that is not what had me laughing, though. It was another realization entirely.”

  “Go on,” she encouraged.

  “If Lady Catherine is fascinated by him, and Mr. Collins is clearly quite fascinated by her, perhaps there are hidden meanings there.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth fell open. “Surely not, sir! First, she is twice his age. Second, it was at her own urging that Mr. Collins came to Longbourn at all. Why would she send him in search of a wife if she…well, if there was something there?”

  Fitzwilliam chuckled at her discomfiture. “That’s easy. To throw everyone off the scent, I would say. Think about it. If Mr. Collins likes her, but has been forced to seek out another, what better partner to choose than she who bears the name he already adores?”

  “Oh, sir, I am now quite certain of it,” Elizabeth scolded him. “You are trying to pull me out of my worries. I admit, your conjecture is quite diverting!”

  “Not as diverting, I trust, as whatever it was you were hoping to encounter this morning, but I am certain you shall be equally curious about the notion as I am after this,” he teased.

  “Can it really be so?” She tried to imagine Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins in a fond embrace. But such a notion was too much to be borne. “Oh, my poor sister, if she is to be subjected to such a clandestine feeling!”

  “Kitty is no more in love with Mr. Collins than you are, Lizzy,” he told her. “She has clearly married him with hopes of comfort and security, and leaves his amiability to work on at her leisure. For surely, once she begins to have children, her affections will find enough outlet for her to get on agreeably.”

  “Sir, I am amazed how much your statement resembles one I heard from my mother,” Elizabeth confessed. “She has often commented that a woman ought to save her affections to lavish on her children rather than concerning herself so greatly with their father. But I have always supposed she said so because her own heart was not fixed by our father. I believe she may have been in love with an officer who jilted her.”

  “It is an unfortunate truth that women fall in love with us wherever we go,” said Fitzwilliam on a sigh. “And an even more unfortunate truth that many officers will use that truth to their advantage when it suits them, and use the fact that they must leave with equal fervor. If I were ever a father, I should heartily shout to my daughter to steer clear of anyone in the army.”

  “How so?”

  “Among the regulars, I happen to know, there are men who bet on ladies just as they might bet on a race horse. They often bet how fast the filly might allow her stallion access,” he explained. “I know that sounds crass, but as you said, we do not keep our truths from each other. You must remember that anyone with the blunt can buy his way into serving our country, not just gentlemen. Even a criminal with the funds can be pardoned once he is a recruit instead. And, after all, it takes a certain demeanor to stomach the idea that if one is sent to war, he will be expected to kill other men upon the orders of his country. It is enough to put many men off in the end.”

  “Such morbid talk,” Elizabeth said, laughing uncomfortably. “How did we get on such a topic anyway? Certainly Wickham is now an officer, but there is much more to the story. I will take my leave of you, sir, if you do not mind. My head begins to ache. Perhaps I have walked too much today.”

  “Forgive me, the conversation was so animated I believe we were practically running. Come, let us take the short path back to your cabin. You may wish to take a draught once you are alone.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Darcy came out into the field the next day, he was anxious to see Elizabeth and make certain that the headache Fitzwilliam had told him about was gone. However, she did not come outside, and after waiting about an hour, he could no longer endure the worry that welled up inside of him for her.

  “I cannot bear it any longer!” he grumbled as he stalked across the field and headed for the door to the cabin where Elizabeth and Charlotte were staying. He hesitated only a moment before he allowed his hand to rap on the front door.

  “Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Channing, surprised that he had come there.

  “Excuse me, madam, but I could not help but come here when I thought that Miss Elizabeth might still be unwell,” he explained, blushing slightly.

  “Yes, sir, she is indisposed, and still in her bed,” she explained. “Surely, she must be feeling poorly indeed, for it is seldom that the young lady would remain inactive at an hour such as this.”

  “Does she require a doctor?” he asked worriedly. “Have you gone in to check on her?”

  “I have done, sir, and brought her some laudanum, just in case,” she replied. “I know not if she has taken it, but she did look quite pale. She tells me that it is only a headache, but did not allow me to stay long enough to make certain that was the case.”

  The door opened to one of the other rooms, and Elizabeth, dressed in a robe and with her hair draping down over her shoulders, came out to see him.

  “My dear Miss Lizzy, I did not wish to disturb you in your bed,” he protested, taking both of her hands in his. “Fitzwilliam told me that you were unwell yesterday, and when you did not come out, I simply had to check on you myself.”

  Her eyes were screwed shut against the daylight, and her face was quite flushed. “I could not remain in my bed once I heard your voice, sir, knowing I have not spoken with you in over a day. I am quite unwell at the moment, as you can see,
but I am certain it is only a headache. I am often victim to the most severe of pains, but they seldom haunt me much more than a day before I find relief.”

  Darcy’s hand shot up to lay the back of his wrist on her forehead. “I did not mean for you to punish me with your absence, but it would seem that is the selected result anyway,” he complained. “Do you think you will be well in time for Anne’s celebration party tomorrow night? For she said that she would like you to be there especially.”

  “Sir, I shall try,” she told him tiredly.

  “Do you require a glass of wine, my dear?” he asked her, grasping her hands again. “Truly, you look quite unwell.”

  “I have taken the draught, it would be unwise to take wine with it,” she told him. “Mr. Darcy, please believe me, I shall not perish. This is not the first headache I’ve had to endure.”

  “No? But it is the first time you’ve endured one with me around,” he said, smiling at her. “You must do everything in your power to comfort her, madam. I cannot bear to think she is hurting in such a manner.”

  Channing smiled at this pronouncement. “I shall make certain of it, sir. Even if you did not ask it of me. Miss Elizabeth is a dear, sweet girl, and a pleasure to serve. I shall miss her greatly when we return to Meryton.”

  “Come then, you must go back to bed,” Darcy insisted. “For if you’ve drank the draught, it is certain to soon kick in.”

  “I am already feeling its effects,” she admitted, and Darcy looked into her eyes, seeing that they were indeed beginning to glaze. “But I am sure that Channing can help me back to my room, Mr. Darcy. You certainly should not do so.”

  “I must at least help you back to the door, and I shall hear no arguments about it,” he insisted as he slid an arm about her waist and gently brought her there.

  “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, blushing profusely.

  “You look quite warm,” he said, his fingers running over her cheeks before he let her go. “Are you sure you will be all right?”

  “Darcy, you simply must let go of me and allow me to return to my bed,” she insisted then. “I am getting dizzy and must lie down immediately.”

  He opened the door and guided her back inside, setting her on the mattress. “I will leave you now, my dear, but please allow Channing to medicate you further if you have the need. Get some sleep.”

  “I will,” she agreed tiredly, and Darcy was forced to leave her, even though he wanted very much to remain.

  As he headed for the front door he told the maid, “I shall call on you again this evening, to see how she fares.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Darcy, though I dare say Miss Charlotte will soon return to help tend to her,” she replied. “She has gone to the apothecary to pick up some things. Charlotte has excellent skills with herbs and medicines. Miss Elizabeth will be well cared for.”

  Darcy left then, but he continued to worry throughout the day, and he was greatly troubled because of it. When had he allowed himself to move from an attraction to an affection where Elizabeth was concerned? Had it been because she continued to flirt with his cousin? It had taken a great deal out of him to send Fitzwilliam to her yesterday morning when he had been looking forward to seeing where the words from the previous evening might take them.

  Because he knew full well that had they met, he had intended to kiss her. To tell her exactly what he was feeling for her. To insist that she stop teasing him by paying attention to Fitzwilliam when he knew very well her affections did not lie there. For how could they, when the heat growing between the two of them was so severe? She simply must be feeling it as well.

  ∞∞∞

  “Truly, I do not need any medicine such as he describes,” Elizabeth protested when Channing returned with yet another draught. “I am not feverish, madam, the only heat coming off of me was clearly caused by him.”

  Channing chuckled. “You mean because he is such a handsome gentleman, miss?”

  “No, I mean because he is so very vexing,” Elizabeth complained. “Believes himself in charge of the world, if you ask me. What was he thinking, to come in here and start giving you orders when you are not employed by him? And taking such liberties with my person? The way he was touching me, what young woman with a sense of propriety would not go up in flames?”

  Charlotte knocked and entered the bedroom. Elizabeth was lying in her bed with her arms crossed over her chest, clearly in the middle of one of her tirades. “Excuse me, but who are the two of you talking about?”

  “Mr. Darcy, miss,” Channing explained. “He stopped by out of concern for Miss Bennet, and now she is in high dudgeon over it.”

  “And worse! He has declared that he shall return in a few hours to see how I am feeling,” Elizabeth groaned, rolling onto her side and pounding on her pillow. “How can he be so cruel to his childhood friend, and so very kind to a young woman he hardly even knows? Am I the only one who is so confused?”

  “Oh, Lizzy, if you could but see this situation from where we are standing, it would all be so clear to you,” Charlotte commented dryly. “Why do you not see that Mr. Darcy wishes to become more intimate where you are concerned? He would certainly not seek me out just because I had a headache!”

  “You are right,” she sighed. “All of his improper manners are directed at me.”

  “Lizzy, how can you be so severe on him?” Charlotte complained. “You should be well pleased to know such a gentleman has enough feeling for you to do such a thing. Only think of how much honor you have just been given by him.”

  “Charlotte, I’m so confused. I cannot think why. He is often so severe, and he looks upon me at the oddest of times. I have surprised a look in his eyes that seems to be a frown, and yet at the same time it grabs every nerve in my body and brings it fully to life. I cannot fathom what he must be thinking at such times.”

  Channing smirked. “I believe, miss, that I can fathom it quite well. And your maidenly ears will not yet wish to hear the reasons.”

  “So, he desires me, as I have surmised?”

  “And you desire him as well, Miss Elizabeth,” she replied. “A woman will not react to that particular look so attentively if she does not like it. She will very much wish to run away, rather than allow it to continue.”

  “I am not always at liberty to do such a thing,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “I doubt you have ever wanted to.”

  “He has returned, Lizzy,” said Charlotte as they heard someone knocking.

  “I will let him in,” said Channing. “I suggest, however, that you ladies might wish to change the subject.”

  The two girls giggled at the face she made.

  Darcy came to peek into the doorway at them. “You must be feeling a little better, Miss Elizabeth, if you are laughing.”

  She grinned. “Or I have been elevated in mood by all the medications. That is much more likely.”

  He grinned at her. “I have brought you a special remedy, my dear. But if you are already in such a state, I do not think you should use it until later.”

  “Sir, I thank you for all your concern, but I shall assure you now I will be at Anne’s party tomorrow,” she told him. “You have nothing to fear.”

  Darcy smiled. “I will just leave this here with Channing. Feel better.”

  Elizabeth smiled and blushed. “Thank you, sir. I shall.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The following afternoon was bright and sunny, putting both Elizabeth and Charlotte in high spirits as they headed to the parsonage to join Kitty and Mr. Collins in walking to Rosings. If their spirits were high, Mr. Collins was so elated as to be giddy with paroxysms of joy at the prospect of inclusion to Anne’s celebration. At some point, Kitty and Lizzy linked arms and moved ahead of them to escape his musings.

  “Surely, Lizzy, it is through the friendships you have cultivated that my husband has received so much attention,” said Kitty, smiling at her. “For, before you came, we certainly were not quite as popular to the ladies o
f Rosings as this.”

  “Perhaps you shall remain popular once I have taken my leave,” said Elizabeth with a shrug. “It does seem like Anne favors your company.”

  “I do not flatter myself that shall be the case,” she said. “Not if Mr. Darcy’s attentions to you continue apace.”

  “Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth blushed slightly as she sped up her walking just a bit. “What has he to do with anything?”

  “Lizzy, you must know that I am not completely blind,” Kitty scoffed, glancing back to be certain they were ahead far enough not to be overheard. “Do not forget that my private parlor is at the back of the house and has a perfectly adequate window. I have seen the two of you out walking on more than one morning. Though I have said nothing to Mr. Collins, of course. For if he were to become aware of it, I am sure he might try to warn you away from such activity.”