"Georgiana, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"
"Miss Bennet, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"And yours as well, Miss Darcy. I have heard so much about you. I understand you are a talented musician."
"A musician of sorts, yes, but hardly talented," said Georgiana as Fitzwilliam offered Miss Bennet a seat on the sofa.
"You are too modest, I am sure."
Fitzwilliam, who was looking at Miss Bennet with undis guised fascination, said, "Someday you will have the opportunity to hear Georgiana play, and you may judge for yourself. I venture to say you will not be disappointed."
"I shall look forward to it."
To Georgiana it did not sound as if Miss Bennet were looking forward to it in the slightest. With a sinking heart she said, "Will you be staying long in London, Miss Bennet?"
"Not long. I must return home within the week."
Fitzwilliam smiled warmly at Miss Bennet. "Elizabeth and I have just agreed on when she will make me the happiest of men. She has many preparations to make quickly, since I am impatient enough to wish to marry her next month."
Georgiana was profoundly shy, but she had no difficulty in reading character, and Miss Bennet's expression was more suited to planning a funeral than a wedding. Even her smiles at her intended looked forced. Georgiana felt almost as wretched seeing her brother so enamoured of a woman who clearly did not return his regard. Fitzwilliam had been caught by a fortune hunter after all.
Apparently, she was not to have the sister of her dreams. Georgiana reminded herself she had survived many other disap pointments in her life. At least Miss Bennet was not pretending a fawning interest in her as some ladies did, hoping to curry her brother's favour. But by all appearances, Miss Bennet had no need to do anything at all to please Fitzwilliam; he was happy just looking at her.
Georgiana straightened into the proper posture so care fully taught to her at school. "Miss Bennet, may I offer you some refreshment?"
Chapter 3
"A LETTER FOR MISS Elizabeth," Hill announced.
Mr. Bennet took the sealed letter off the tray, examined it, then handed it to his second daughter. "Your young man, I daresay."
The direction was in a masculine hand, so there could be little doubt who had sent it. "Thank you, Hill," Elizabeth said.
Since her return to Longbourn a week earlier, Elizabeth had astonished herself with her ability to forget the disaster looming in her future, even when forced to listen to her mother's raptures over her upcoming marriage constantly. She did not have to tolerate Mr. Darcy's attentions; he was off to Matlock to announce their engagement to his aunt and uncle, or more precisely to soothe their vexation over learning of the news through the biased view of Lady Catherine. Without his presence, it was easier for her to pretend she was happy about this marriage, and as long as this was the general belief, no one troubled her overmuch for details. Even her father appeared to have accepted it, though upon occasion she found him looking dubiously at her. But Elizabeth could find no justification for confiding in him; there was no point in making him suffer with the knowledge of her regrets.
She spent this time as if it were the final days of summer, with the nip of evening frost warning of the winter to come, urging her to make the most of the last fine days. But someday spring would come again, she reminded herself. She would make new friends in Derbyshire, and if she had been able to tolerate life with her mother and younger sisters, surely she could learn to endure Mr. Darcy. At least he was quiet more often than not and would not embarrass her in public. Once she had children, he would not expect to be the center of her life. Although she preferred not to think on the begetting of her children, she would love them no matter what her opinion of their father might be.
It was more difficult to feel bold with the concrete evidence of Mr. Darcy's post in her hand. A happy bride would be delighted by a letter from her intended. She forced a smile to her lips. "If you will excuse me." She dropped a curtsey and made her way upstairs to her room.
Once there, she tossed the letter on the wash table, kicked off her slippers, and curled up in the window seat. She felt no inclination to see what Mr. Darcy had to say and instead picked up the novel she had been reading earlier. But her mind refused to focus on it, and with a sigh, she left her repose to take up the letter, eyeing it as if it were Pandora's box. It would be better to have it done with. Carefully, she broke the seal.
My dearest Elizabeth,
At last I may report to you that our separation will soon come to an end. I am writing from Matlock, where I have informed my aunt and uncle of our impending nuptials. I will leave for London tomorrow, and if the weather and roads permit, I shall be at Longbourn Monday next.
It has been only a week since I saw you last, but it seems far longer since I was last delighted by your smile. You are always in my thoughts, no matter where I may be. I wonder what you are doing now and wish I might be there as well. I think it will be quite some time before I am willing to part from you again after our marriage, which cannot come too soon for me. I wish I had the facility of words some gentlemen possess, to tell you how dearly I miss you and of my joy in our engagement, but since I have only my poor ability with which to express myself, I shall close by reminding you that I remain your ardent admirer,
F.D.
Embarrassed and not a little ashamed, as if she had been eavesdropping on a private conversation she had no right to hear, Elizabeth folded the paper carefully and placed it in her pocket. The reminder of Darcy's sentiments made her uncomfortable; she felt almost guilty for her reluctance to marry him. He did not deserve to be deceived into allowing himself to express his feelings without the knowledge that she did not share them. But what was the alternative—to ask him not to speak words of love to her because she was marrying him against her wishes? That would not do.
Poor man, to believe he was loved and admired where he was not. That he held her in tender regard she did not doubt, for he could never have overcome his objections to her family if he had not. Why he should possess such feelings was more puzzling. Given how impudent she had been to him during their acquaintance, it was a wonder. Was he so inexperienced in caring as to mistake that for love?
There was, in that moment, a more gentle sensation towards him in her mind than she had ever felt before. Though she still resented his presumption, she found something in him to pity as well.
***
Darcy was true to his word and arrived on the date prom ised. When he stepped into the sitting room at Longbourn, his eyes immediately seeking Elizabeth out with the look she was beginning to recognise was not criticism but admiration, she felt a familiar heaviness come over her. She smiled at him dutifully as she curtsied and answered all his queries with civility. She was grateful her mother stood in such awe of her intended son-in-law that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention or mark her deference for his opinion. The last thing Elizabeth wished was to offer him any further confirmation of his low estima tion of her family.
She was relieved when he proposed walking out, despite her suspicion it would lead to certain attentions she preferred to avoid. At least it would reduce the likelihood of scenes embar rassing to them both.
Darcy was silent as they strolled down the lane. Once they were out of sight of Longbourn, he favoured her with a smile which brought more warmth to his features than she would have once thought possible. "How I have missed you, my sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth."
The regret she had felt on reading his letter returned in force, coupled with doubt as to the correct course for her. She could not pretend to feelings she did not possess, yet neither could she ignore his words nor suggest they were unwelcome, and she did not wish to be unkind. Finally, she cast her eyes downwards and murmured, "You are welcome back to Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy."
"What, still blushing?" His countenance bespoke amusement.
"Do you object to my blushing,
sir?" she asked archly.
"I object to nothing about you, my love, except perhaps your current marital status." He took her hand and placed it on his arm.
It was difficult to listen to his endearments knowing how little she would ever be able to reciprocate them, and she once again found herself in the curious position of feeling a sort of pity for Mr. Darcy. Thus it was that when he bent to kiss her, she accepted it with more grace than she had in the past.
He must have felt the difference since he carefully drew her into his arms, never allowing their lips to part. She did not resist him and, finding no other spot to put her arms, followed her instinct and placed them around his neck. She did not realise how much more vulnerable this made her until she felt the strangeness of his body pressed against hers. It was an entirely novel sensation and, surprisingly enough, not an unpleasant one. It felt somehow natural to touch this way, and, if she did not think too hard about whose arms she was in, she could even have said she enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her.
He did not ask more of her than the gentle pressure of her lips against his, nor did he keep her in his embrace long. With an air of pleased satisfaction, he replaced her hand on his arm and began to walk again.
Elizabeth was more confused by her reactions. It was in her best interests to find his actions unobjectionable and even pleasant; why, then, should she be disturbed to find it was so? Still, when she stole an embarrassed glance at Darcy's face, she saw an expression which bespoke a new happiness on his part, and she discovered to her surprise that she was glad of it.
"How are the plans for the wedding coming along?" he asked.
"Quite well, I believe." Since Elizabeth preferred not to think about her wedding, she had ceded most of the decisions to her mother. She supposed she ought to show some sort of interest in it, so she said, "Will any of your family be in attendance?"
"Only my sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam. They will not arrive until the preceding night, since I would prefer to minimise the risk of Georgiana encountering… Meryton society."
Any small pleasure she had felt in his company vanished. She could not feel regret for her inability to love him when he was so ready to disparage her family and friends. She did not understand how he could possibly expect her to share his views; yet apparently, he did. To think she had almost enjoyed his earlier attentions!
Think of Jane, she told herself. Think of giving her another chance with Mr. Bingley.
Darcy was in near-constant attendance upon Elizabeth at Longbourn over the next two days. He spoke little when any of her family was present, saving his discourse for when they were alone together. Elizabeth tried to keep those occasions to a minimum; but even so, she began quickly to chafe at her lack of freedom. Finally, she suggested to Mr. Darcy that there were some few preparations she needed to make for their wedding, items she planned to purchase which she wished to be a surprise to him on their wedding day. Although she was certain anyone could have recognised this as a weak excuse, Darcy did not seem to consider it a possibility, going so far as to appear pleased she was making such an effort.
So it was he left her to herself for the afternoon. Feeling it incumbent upon her to live up to her word, Elizabeth took a lingering ramble into Meryton. She paused in each of her favourite shops, wondering when she would see these familiar streets again.
On exiting the milliner's shop Elizabeth happened upon Mr. Wickham. Her cheeks were immediately covered by the deepest blush at what he must think of her. In accepting Mr. Darcy, she must seem mercenary at best and duplicitous at worst. "Mr. Wickham," she murmured, dropping a curtsey while avoiding his eyes.
"This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Bennet." He sounded as warm and amiable as ever. She risked a glance at him and saw no hint of disapproval. "I understand I must congratulate you."
"Thank you, sir." Though his bearing reassured her, she was less comfortable with what remained unspoken. "Although I hope you wish me well, I had not thought you, of all people, would wish to congratulate me."
An expression of concern covered his brow. "My dear Miss Elizabeth, you mistake me entirely. To me, Pemberley is the most beautiful place on earth, and I cannot imagine you will be anything but happy as the mistress of it. It is not something one could refuse."
She released her breath in relief at his respectful tone. Apparently, he bore her no ill will for her decision. Given his interest in Miss King, he must view her as making the same compromises he himself had. She wished she could confide in him her true feelings towards Mr. Darcy, but that was a secret she dared not share, even with him. "I hope I shall like Pemberley."
"If you do not, I shall be most surprised. I only wish I were so fortunate as to have the opportunity to see it again myself some day."
His melancholy tone renewed her anger at Mr. Darcy, the cause of his exile. Without considering how it might betray her true allegiances, she said, "I would wish that for you as well."
An amiable smile graced his handsome features, and he stepped slightly closer to her. "You are most kind, Miss Bennet. Although Darcy and I have had our disagreements, I cannot fault his taste. How can I blame him for making the same choice I would have made had I his opportunities?"
Elizabeth looked down, conscious of the compliment in his words, yet feeling somehow disloyal for taking pleasure in it. Mr. Wickham must indeed sympathise with her position if he was willing to push the boundaries of propriety thus far to reassure her of his good will.
He must have known she dared not reply, since he added, "My only sorrow is that your fiancé is unlikely to permit any further acquaintance between us. In that way, your gain of Pemberley is my loss of a most pleasant companion."
"I hope that will not be the case, though it is unlikely our paths will cross after I leave Meryton."
"Who knows? Perhaps marriage will prove a moderating influence on Mr. Darcy. But I see Denny coming for me, so I will say my farewells now, in privacy." Holding her eyes with his own, he took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering slightly longer than they should.
"Mr. Wickham," she murmured, uncomfortable with her awareness of him. She should not be enjoying his attentions. Before she could be entangled in a conversation with his fellow officers, she took her leave, her thoughts much in turmoil.
Chapter 4
ELIZABETH'S MEETING WITH MR. Wickham preoccupied her on the walk back to Longbourn. It was an unpleasant shock on her arrival to find Darcy waiting for her. Could he not leave her alone for even a few hours?
But as it happened, she had merely forgotten—or perhaps wished to forget—that her mother had invited him to dinner. So there was nothing to be done for it, although her lively spirits rebelled at the idea of spending her entire evening talking to him.
Lydia and Kitty seemed more determined than ever to embarrass Elizabeth with their antics. After her sisters had made several comments about the officers which left Elizabeth blushing for their sake, in desperation she asked Mr. Darcy to take a turn about the gardens with her, aware of the irony of seeking his company in such a way when her greatest desire was to have him far away. The sole advantage of marriage, she could see, was she would no longer have to concern herself with how her family humiliated her in front of Darcy.
She was not above using the situation to her own benefit, telling Darcy she had promised to make a last visit to her aunt Philips on the morrow, and she was sure he would be welcome if he cared to accompany her.
The look on his face spoke volumes. "I understand the necessity for saying farewell to your relations; however, I do not doubt I can find something to engage my interest at Netherfield while you do so."
Although it was the response she had hoped for, it still irritated her enough to cause her to react unwisely. With a sly glance, she said, "I saw several acquaintances in town today. Miss Lucas was on her way to the library, and I met Mr. Wickham outside the milliner's."
Darcy frowned. "You ought not associate with Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth. He is not the man
he seems."
So Wickham had been correct in his assessment. "But we are acquaintances of some months' standing. I can scarcely escape it now." She took a perverse enjoyment in her assertion.
"You do not know the manner of man he is, and I hope you never will. Promise me you will not speak to him again."
Elizabeth had to look away from him, or she would have said something quite intemperate. It was of little consequence whether she promised or not; as she herself had said, it was unlikely their paths would cross again. Still, the taste was bitter in her mouth as she said, "Very well, if that is what you wish, sir."
The resolution did not prove as simple to keep as she had anticipated. When she arrived at her aunt's house, she discov ered a small gathering in progress for the purpose of playing cards. Her aunt was seated at a table with several of the officers, their number including Mr. Wickham. Her pulse fluttered a little, wondering what he would think of her presence at such an occasion without her fiancé.
Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy Page 3