by Brenda Webb
William was even more impressed with the inside of the house, though it was still sparsely furnished, as was Charles’ wont with all the estates he rented. He could not fault the man for that—better to find out if you wanted to buy a place before purchasing furniture to fit. After William handed the butler his hat and coat, he turned in a circle, taking in the foyer, the grand staircase and glimpses of other rooms through the open doors. He did not have time to give an opinion, as Charles instantly suggested they go to his study, and once there, they each sank into a comfortably upholstered chair.
“Well, I must say, Charles, that unlike the last manor house you were so eager to buy, this one is striking. And unless I am fooled by my impressions, it seems well maintained. I can only hope the grounds do not disappoint.”
Charles snickered, grinning crookedly. “Oh, yes, that estate. Well, perhaps a certain young lady who lived nearby influenced my delight with the place.”
“Yes, the angel, Miss Farnsworth, if I remember correctly,” William teased.
“Precisely! I am so pleased that you advised me to carefully consider that alliance. I was truly not in love with the woman, though I imagined I was at the time.”
“You must learn to guard your heart, Charles. You simply cannot believe you are in love with every woman you meet. If you do, you will be married before you know what has transpired. And you may rely upon my word—an unhappy marriage is something that you will regret for the rest of your life.”
Charles watched William’s face assume the mask that had been his normal mien for the last two years. He hated the fact that the kindest man he had ever known had formed such an unhappy alliance simply to protect his family.
“I know you speak from experience, Darcy. I can only imagine your pain at being married to someone you despise—feeling that you had no choice. And I know countless others who have married without such noble intentions but are equally as miserable. My own sister married for greed, and I do not wish to end up like Louisa and Bertram—so miserable that they follow me about because they are unhappy when they are alone. Speaking of them, they are upstairs.”
“As long as Caroline is not upstairs, I do not care.”
Charles’ head dropped, and he stared awkwardly at his feet. William challenged, “Tell me she is not here, Charles.”
“I… I did not tell her you were coming, Darcy, but I think Louisa must have, as I received a letter just today telling me she would be here in the morning. Supposedly, she feels she must be the hostess for the ball I am giving tomorrow, even though Louisa is certainly capable. She has handled all the arrangements without any help from Caroline.”
“Can she not leave me in peace? Is it not punishment enough that I am tied to that—” William rubbed his eyes with both hands wearily. “You would think that after two years your sister would relent.”
“You know that I love my sister, but I do not condone her actions. Nonetheless, Caroline is a slave to the gossip of the ton. Everyone in your sphere knows that your marriage is a farce. You make it plain by maintaining separate residences. There is even a wager on the books at White’s on just how long it will last.”
At this William’s eyebrows knitted and he growled, “Cannot a man be left in peace? Apparently even men who are supposed to be my friends gossip like old women. And another thing, what is this I hear of a ball? How is it that I was not informed of that either?”
Charles squirmed uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “I was cajoled into giving the ball by some lovely young ladies in the neighbourhood, and it was not settled upon until after you informed me of your visit. Knowing that if you learned of it you would postpone your trip again, I said nothing. However, if you want to feign illness, I will not insist you attend. I will even make your excuses.”
An image of the pixie of the bookshop came to mind and William smiled unknowingly. “No, I think I shall attend and meet your new neighbours. After all, how am I to judge the estate without judging the neighbours?”
Charles looked stunned, as though he had expected William to decline, and he stuttered a bumbling reply. “Of… of course! You must meet the neighbours, and this will be a great opportunity. Besides, I was hoping to introduce you to someone that I have met. She is truly an angel, Miss—”
“Charles! What was I just saying about—”
“Bennet.”
William’s heart skipped a beat. “Bennet? You are in love with a Miss Bennet?” William felt his stomach lurch as he pictured Elizabeth. Had her heart already been taken?
Abruptly, his conscience demanded a part in the conversation. What is that to you? After all, you cannot have her or any woman for that matter!
“I think she is the one, Darcy! She is beautiful, funny, kind and not at all like any woman I have met before. She makes me laugh.”
William was reeling but tried not to let his emotions show as he murmured, “No, she is not like them.”
Bingley’s brow furrowed as he overheard the whispered comment. “You know her, Darcy?”
William forced his heart to slow its frantic beat and his voice to steady. “Yes, I met her in Meryton on my way here. She is remarkable, I will give you that.”
“And is she not the most beautiful creature—”
William could endure no more. Standing, he hurried towards the door. “I simply must change my clothes and rest before dinner. Can we not talk more of the object of your admiration later?”
Charles called after him. “Of course. Where are my manners? You must be exhausted.” As Charles gained the door, he met the housekeeper who had been standing by since William’s arrival. “Mrs. Watkins, please show Mr. Darcy to his room.”
The elderly woman curtsied slightly and hurried to catch up with William who was had stopped on the stairs. “Right this way, please.”
Charles could not see the empty look in William’s eyes as he woodenly followed the woman to his room, nonetheless, he did notice the sudden slump of his friend’s shoulders the minute he thought he was out of sight.
I have never seen Darcy so unhappy. Even his attempts to appear unaffected are unconvincing. I pray his misery does not get the better of him. If only Caroline had not decided to come!
~~~*~~~
Dinner had been torture. Charles had tried to bring up the subject of his Miss Bennet several times, only to be thwarted by his older sister, Louisa, who would quickly change the subject. As William pondered how little Louisa looked like Charles or Caroline—she was shorter, heavier and had mousey brown hair—he realised that, despite their differences, he liked neither woman. Louisa did everything she could to forward her sister’s schemes and to keep Charles from assuming his rightful place as head of the family.
Ordinarily, William would have been incensed by Charles’ sister interrupting his every sentence and would have intervened, but tonight he was secretly relieved that he would not have to listen to his friend expound on the merits of the one woman who had touched his heart, the one he had found so enchanting. Mixed emotions duelled in his heart and mind. While he knew that he could never have such a woman, he wondered if he could continue a close friendship with the man fortunate enough to call her his own.
Thus, shortly after dinner, he made his excuses and went to his room as he needed to think about that dilemma. And now, settled in bed for the night, William’s conscience began to challenge him as it always did when he dared so much as to consider any woman.
What are you doing? It is not gentlemanly to trifle with a young woman’s affections and especially not if she is Bingley’s angel.
I only wish to enjoy her company for a short while.
So you say, but would it not be better to limit your conversation to that at the bookshop?
Knowing that he had never won this debate in the past, William rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head and willing his mind to quiet. It appeared that he was going to have another long and sleepless night.
~~~*~~~
Chapter 2
&nb
sp; Netherfield
The Ball
As anticipated, Caroline Bingley arrived early the next day. Thankfully, William and Charles were out riding the property line when her coach pulled into the drive, and she spent the entire day in her room—first resting and then preparing for the ball. Had she known that nothing she could have devised would have attracted Mr. Darcy’s attention that night or any other, she might have spent a little less time with her preparations—or perhaps not. After all, she was quite vain and still hopeful that Mr. Darcy might one day be back on the marriage market. For, thanks to his close friendship with Charles, she had eavesdropped enough to know that his marriage was not a happy one.
And now as the time approached for the ball, Caroline studied her image in her dressing room mirror, quite pleased with the reflection. Though now four and twenty, she comforted herself with the fact that she was years younger than William’s wife, who was eight years his senior, and felt certain that her age would not be a detriment to becoming the next Mistress of Pemberley. Taking her time placing two large, orange ostrich feathers in her elaborate coiffure, something she refused to leave to a maid, she then smoothed the burnt-orange silk of her gown with her hands, all the while admiring the quality of the material. Quite pleased with herself for having thought to have yards and yards of silk and several feathers dyed that particular colour, she could not help but feel smug. From this night on, she would easily stand out in a sea of mousy women with mousy gowns. Finally, fastening her mother’s pearls around her neck, she was ready to impress not only the wilds of Meryton society, but also the Master of Pemberley with her fashion expertise. She left her rooms and went in search of her brother.
As time for the ball approached, Charles had not been able to locate either sister, so he proceeded down the stairs to take up his position as host, only to find that William was already in the foyer. Stopping midway on the stairs, he watched surreptitiously as his friend paced relentlessly, as though he expected the Prince Regent to arrive at any minute, instead of the good people of Meryton. Occasionally, he would even walk over to the large front windows to peer out at the drive.
Finally, Charles could hold his tongue no longer, and continuing his descent, he called out, “I would never have figured you to be in such a state, Darcy.”
William jerked his head around and examined Charles for a long moment before realising that he was teasing. Relaxing a bit, he tried to smile. It would not do for Charles to know just who he was anticipating.
Charles continued, “I hope you do not mind that I asked you to stand with me so I may introduce you to my new acquaintances.”
“No, not at all.”
“If I did not know better, I would think you are expecting someone.”
William decided to tell a half-truth. “I suppose I am eager for the ball to begin. This shall be a diversion for me, as I have not been in company for the last six weeks, and I must admit that I find the idea of watching an entirely different level of society quite intriguing.”
“Only you would look at it in that particular way. But you were always much more an observer than a participant.”
“Charles, you know why I cannot—”
Two hands held up in apology stopped William’s explanation. “I know, friend. Please forgive my intrusive comments on what is strictly your business. I sometimes forget your circumstances, since you are never in each other’s company. You are a better man than I to persevere as you do.”
William turned towards the window again, not willing for Charles to see the depth of his despondency. Most of the time, he preferred to pretend all was well, but Charles’ mention of his situation made the reality of it come flooding back, dampening his spirits.
Charles observed the morose expression on his friend’s face as he walked away and was about to say more, when the sounds of a carriage on the gravel drive announced that the first guests were arriving. Mercer went to stand by the entrance while William joined Charles in the receiving line. Just then, Caroline and Louisa came down the stairs as though they were in no hurry to begin the task.
“Oh, my Lord!” William whispered to Charles upon seeing the orange monstrosity that was Caroline Bingley from tip to toe.
But Charles was more concerned with the look in Caroline’s eyes when she saw William. “Come, Caroline, stand beside me,” he motioned her to his other side, effectively keeping her from planting herself next to William. As Caroline scowled at her brother, Louisa took the position next to William, and Bertram Hurst, who made it a point to sneak into Charles’ study for a sip of his expensive brandy every time he could, was the last to take his place alongside his wife. He smelled of liquor.
~~~*~~~
Later
Convinced that he had already met the entire population of Hertfordshire in little over an hour, William began to despair of seeing the woman from the bookshop as the arrivals dwindled to a sparse few. And that disappointment, along with Caroline’s constant stream of criticism of everyone after they had passed out of hearing range, was beginning to grate on his nerves.
Trying not to sound greatly disappointed, he enquired of Charles quietly, “Was your Miss Bennet invited to the ball?”
Charles chuckled without thinking, which instantly drew Caroline’s attention, annoying William. He had hoped against hope that no one would take note of his interest in a certain young woman, especially Caroline.
“According to my Miss Bennet, they will be among the last to arrive, as she has four sisters and her mother is always busy with last minute preparations. Rest assured that I have it on good authority that her mother will not allow a soirée to pass in Meryton without being in attendance!”
Caroline seethed at Charles’ jest, and seeing that all the current arrivals had passed on into the ball room, she murmured loud enough to be heard, “Yes, Charles, Louisa has informed me of the crassness of the entire Bennet family.”
Louisa leaned out to catch her sister’s eye and shook her head in hopes of silencing her, but Caroline ignored her and continued.
“I do hope you do not embarrass us with your attention to them.” She leaned around Charles, as if to confide to Darcy. “It is well known that the entire family is ridiculous. Their mother pushes her daughters on any man that breathes, and their father neglects his duty, preferring to laugh at his wife’s lack of decorum and indulge his three youngest daughters—one who quotes Fordyce’s sermons and others who are infatuated with redcoats. I had no idea that Charles would be so foolish as to invite them.”
Charles addressed his sister quietly with gritted teeth. “You are my guest and can very well leave if you do not like the company I keep.” Then he focused his ire on Louisa. “I would appreciate it if you would keep your opinions to yourself. You were performing competently as hostess before Caroline arrived, and I should like you to continue, but only if you can refrain from gossiping about our neighbours.”
Louisa cast another unpleasant look at Caroline. She had sworn her sister to secrecy before sharing her misgivings regarding the Bennets, and Caroline had betrayed her. Addressing Charles, she stated with little true remorse, “Forgive me. I am sorry for being so outspoken, and from this point on I will do as you ask.”
Caroline stiffened at her sister’s apology, but quickly recovered. After all, she reasoned, where else could Louisa and Bertram stay so comfortably without having to pay one farthing out of their own pockets? Caroline had every intention of winning this fight, and she intended to seek Mr. Darcy’s help in doing so. He had tried to bring Charles into his circle of friends, and surely, he would know that these women were detrimental to that goal. Thus, she had resolved to hold her tongue just as the family in question arrived. Nonetheless, while she was concentrating on being silent, had Caroline listened, she might have heard the distinct drumming of one wildly beating heart standing in the line.
~~~*~~~
At the sight of Elizabeth dressed in her best gown—a white silk confection—her hair piled atop her hea
d and interspersed with tiny white pearls, William felt his heart begin a relentless rhythm. A part of him was relieved that, in his loneliness, he had not overestimated her beauty. She was just as perfect as he remembered. But another part, the faction that always reminded him of his duty, was not as pleased.
What does it matter? She cannot be yours.
Reminding himself that she was the object of Charles’ affections, he schooled himself not to react as she stepped forward, the first of the Bennets to come through the receiving line. Because of the heartbeat pounding in his ears, William could not hear what Charles and she were saying or what his friend said as he introduced them. But all of a sudden, Elizabeth was standing before him looking slightly bemused. Thinking he had composed himself, he realised at that very moment that he had not. Though he could not formulate a decent sentence, she still smiled—only the smile began to fade as he continued to hesitate.
Finally, he found his tongue. “Miss Bennet, I am pleased to see you again.”
Elizabeth’s smile returned full force, and he prayed earnestly that no one recognised his discomposure as she responded, “I feared from your silence that you had already forgotten me.”
His eyes never left hers as he said very quietly, “You are unforgettable, Miss Bennet.”
“I am not Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth grinned, tilting her head towards the woman who was now talking to Charles. “My sister, Jane, is Miss Bennet.”
William cut his eyes to Charles who was in deep conversation with Jane, and it was quite obvious which Miss Bennet his friend was enamoured of—the blond-haired, blue-eyed angel whose hand he held. William felt his entire body go limp with the realisation that Elizabeth was not Miss Bennet.
Longing to request a dance, he knew that he should not, so instead he ventured, “I cannot wait to see if your boast is fulfilled.” Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose in question, so he added cheekily, “That your dance card will be full.”