Mr. Darcy's Noble Connections: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

by Abigail Reynolds

  But whenever it might have been, she had indeed changed toward him. Some of her reservations about him were not yet resolved, but she had seen enough to assure her of his basic honorability and trustworthiness. He had certainly demonstrated his constancy and willingness to forgive. Yes, if he should make her another offer, she would know what to respond. And if he did not make another offer...That idea sent a cold shiver down her back.

  The next day would be a better test of his intentions. Darcy and Paxton had been invited to join the house party on an excursion to York Minster. Unlike the previous day. this would allow extended opportunities for interaction, perhaps even for private conversation. But once again her hopes were destined to be disappointed as neither gentleman appeared. Her first flutters of disappointment were disregarded as she attended to Eleanor, whose countenance had become increasingly dull since the previous day when Elizabeth accompanied her to the tree where she and Paxton left their messages for one another. The letter Eleanor had placed there the previous day was still in the hiding place, and there was nothing waiting for her there, the first time such a thing had occurred.

  Elizabeth's only relief at first had been the continued absence of Lord Charles. No one seemed concerned about his disappearance without a word, assuming that since his valet was also missing, they were no doubt together on some errand he preferred to keep private. Elizabeth thought he had most likely discovered some other mischief to get into, and wondered whose life he was trying to ruin now.

  But when the party returned from the outing to York. Lord Charles was once again ensconced in his favorite chair reading the newspaper with a half-empty snifter of brandy beside him. In his usual smooth manner, he greeted the returning party without any reference to his absence or sudden return. Elizabeth's heart sank when she heard his voice, and she instantly turned to say something to Lady Eleanor. Afterwards, she could not remember what she and her friend had conversed about, only that it gave her an excuse not to look in Lord Charles's direction. It made little difference to her self-consciousness, since she imagined she could feel the weight of his gaze on her in any case.

  With the absence of Darcy and Paxton, Elizabeth knew it would be difficult to avoid conversing with Lord Charles. In hindsight she could see they must have deliberately taken turns to avoid leaving her in a position where Lord Charles could approach her, giving him less time when he could hope to have a tete-a-tete with her. And fool that she was, she had allowed his approach!

  She would no longer be deceived by him, though. Even during his absence she had not felt safe, and had instituted the precaution of requesting that her maid sleep in her room at night. A locked door no longer seemed an adequate defense. She had told the puzzled maid that one of the gentlemen had made an indecent proposal to her and she felt safer not being alone at night. Elizabeth wondered whether the maid's easy acceptance of this explanation was owing to the absolute obedience of the servants at Bentham Park or to her knowledge of Lord Charles's ways. She suspected it was the latter.

  In any case, it was not within her ability to prevent Lord Charles from approaching her when they were both in company. She said as little as possible to him on those occasions without direct incivility. He had the temerity to look injured, which made Elizabeth seethe inside.

  It did not help matters when Darcy again failed to make an appearance on the following day. This time she could not conceive of a possible excuse except that he regretted what had happened between them on the moor. She told herself it was for the best, that she should not have allowed herself to soften towards him. She should be grateful that Darcy, unlike Lord Charles, had at least done his wooing in private. But nothing could ease the sick feeling in her stomach that his absence had engendered. Had Darcy felt some fraction of this when she had rejected him? Doubts pulled at her heart as well as her conscience.

  At least the end of the uncertainty was in sight. Darcy and Paxton had long ago accepted an invitation to the Midsummer Eve dinner that was to mark the end of the house party. There had been nothing tentative about this plan. Several neighbors had been invited to join the company, and the house party guests were to depart over the next two days. If Darcy did not attend the dinner, she would know he did not intend to return, regardless of the kisses and intimate looks they had shared. The idea made her ill. She would have to forget him, no matter how difficult it might be.

  Darcy had spent three days questioning his motivations and was no closer to an answer than when he had started. Paxton's damned quarrel with Lady Eleanor had put him in an impossible position with conflicting expectations and demands from too many people. "I cannot simply refuse to attend the dinner at Bentham Park," he said for at least the third time. "I am sorry it puts you in an uncomfortable position, and I will give Lord and Lady Bentham your excuses. But I cannot offend my relatives, however distant, simply because Lady Eleanor offended you." Not to mention that he would cut off his right hand rather than leave things unsettled with Elizabeth after their time on the moor.

  "Go, then, if you must," Paxton growled. "But if she speaks to you, I want to know nothing of it, and I hope you will tell her nothing of me."

  "I will do my best." Try as he might. Darcy could find no anger in himself toward Lady Eleanor for her assumptions. From an intellectual point of view, he could see objections to the idea of a woman marrying with the intention of later infidelity, but since such arrangements were the rule rather than the exception among the ton, he could hardly fault Lady Eleanor for assuming Paxton would think the same. So why did the assumption which seemed natural in Lady Eleanor feel repugnant if he considered applying it to Elizabeth? Despite his understanding of Lady Eleanor's position, he could comprehend Paxton's as well. It would be intolerable if Elizabeth were to tell him that she was marrying another, but offered to take him as a lover later. Not that she was ever likely to agree to an affair, but the very idea of being with her when she was married to another man made him want to rend his skin open with his fingernails until he bled. No, he understood Paxton's distress all too well.

  Of course, he was only telling his friend part of the truth about attending the dinner. He was indeed obliged on family grounds to honor his promise to dine at Bentham Park, but it was Elizabeth's presence there that made it impossible for him to stay away. The memory of the look on her face after he kissed her haunted him. What would have followed had they been able to see one another the next day? Could he finally have told her of his feelings in a way that would warm her heart rather than drive her away? Or perhaps it was only a momentary softening on her part, and a few minutes' reflection would bring her dislike of him back to life. He could not bear to leave Yorkshire without some sort of resolution.

  When Darcy came downstairs after dressing for dinner with unusual care, he was greeted by the surprising sight of Paxton in evening wear. "Will you be coming after all?" Darcy asked.

  "I realized you were right. We accepted the invitation and I should honor it. It would be discourteous to leave the party one man short."

  Darcy studied his friend for a moment. "I hope you are not planning anything that could embarrass you later."

  Paxton gave a mirthless laugh. '"Hardly. I assure you that if I speak to her at all no one will be able to fault my manners."

  "Are you certain you wish to do this?"

  "Of course I do not wish it, but I will not let the Carlisles have the satisfaction of scorning me because I did not attend when I had promised to do so."

  "I understand." Darcy only hoped that Paxton's presence would not interfere with his opportunity to speak to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth had been uncharacteristically nervous all day. She would have liked to attribute her anxiety to Eleanor's distress, but she was perfectly aware that, had there been no question of Darcy's absence, she could have borne the strain of her friend's moods somewhat better. Eleanor picked at her food and had grown a little paler with each day, although no one but Elizabeth seemed to notice. That morning, at Eleanor's request,
she had gone to the message tree without her. On receiving the intelligence that her last letter still remained there untouched, Eleanor burst into tears and told Elizabeth to leave her.

  Lady Bentham had other plans, however. She sent a maid to demand Eleanor's immediate attendance at the festivities in preparation for Midsummer Eve. Shortly thereafter, a perfectly coiffed Eleanor with a perfectly false smile and perfectly swollen red eyes appeared to join the rest of the house party in gathering greens to decorate the doorway. Not that any of Lady Bentham's guests would dirty their hands with actual labor, of course; piles of already cut birch branches and greenery were neatly arranged along the woodland walk for the convenience of the guests who could choose their favorite pieces and indicate to the servants precisely where they were to be hung.

  From Eleanor's demeanor, one might have thought it the culmination of her dreams of pleasure. She examined one pile after another, prettily exclaiming over the merits of one branch versus its neighbor. The other ladies seemed equally excited by this mundane task, leaving Elizabeth to wonder whether it was a particular treat for them to be allowed to participate even this far in the revelry. She certainly had not expected Miss Elliot to lay aside her fashionable languor to join in the activity, but she had done so.

  Lord Charles's familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "For you, Miss Bennet." He held out a bouquet of vervain, ferns and St. John's Wort he must have gathered himself, given the lack of formal arrangement.

  She raised an eyebrow, surprised he would take so much trouble when she had been all but refusing to speak to him since his return. Unfortunately, she could not ignore him in front of all the other guests. "How kind of you," she said without meeting his eyes.

  He pressed the bouquet into her hands with an oddly eager look. "They say that if you put some of these under your pillow tonight, you will dream of the man you are to marry."

  Unbidden, the image of Darcy rose before her. She had almost forgotten her anxiety over him in the activity, but now it came back to her with gut-clenching force. "I imagine it is preferable to a grass snake under the pillow," she said coolly.

  "I hope flowers will be a more pleasant awakening for you, although I have to confess, I rather liked the snake. I kept it for a week in an old trunk that I filled with grasses and twigs, but then one of the maids found it and started to scream. I told you that all the Carlisles are mad for animals - even snakes." He smiled at the memory.

  If he thought this would soften her toward him, he was wrong. "How very fitting, my lord." She turned to Eleanor and began talking of the plans for dinner.

  Chapter 10

  It was early yet when Elizabeth went down to dinner, anxious for the time to pass and to give her an answer to the question of whether Darcy and Paxton would come. Perhaps they had already sent their excuses. Lady Bentham might have seen no reason to inform her daughter and the least important of her guests. The room was already half full when Eleanor appeared, looking every inch the noble lady. Only when she was sitting beside Elizabeth did it become apparent she had employed face paint to cover the circles under her eyes. Her voice was pleasant but brittle as she exchanged pleasantries with Miss Elliot. Her eyes kept darting toward the door.

  If the gentlemen did not arrive in the next ten minutes, they were not coming, and Elizabeth would need to forget Mr. Darcy. She could not help glancing at the clock on the mantel only to discover that a mere minute or two had passed since she had checked it last. Scolding herself for her silliness, she resolutely turned to Eleanor and entered into a conversation with Miss Elliot on the latest styles.

  Eleanor's sharp, indrawn breath made her look up. There, in the doorway, stood Mr. Darcy, with the shape of Mr. Paxton behind him. Relief flooded through Elizabeth, and for a minute she could not tear her eyes away from him as he conversed with Lord Bentham. Feeling the heat in her cheeks, she forced herself to look away.

  It was only a few minutes, but it seemed an eternity until Darcy crossed the room to join them. Bowing, he said, "Lady Eleanor, Miss Elliot." Turning to Elizabeth, he paused. "Miss Bennet." His voice sounded somehow different.

  When Elizabeth looked up from her curtsey, her eyes met his with an almost palpable shock. She was accustomed to finding Darcy gazing at her at unexpected times, but something about his look today seemed to search deep within her with an almost intolerable intimacy. It made her glad to resume her seat, since her legs felt distinctly wobbly.

  Eleanor's practiced social voice interrupted the moment. "Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy? We have not had the pleasure of your company these last few days."

  He bowed again and took the seat next to Elizabeth, his nearness causing her to flush, even though she had been seated just as close to him on several occasions in the past. "I would have liked to have been here sooner, but certain matters at Hillington demanded my attention. I have regretted that it cost me the opportunity to be in your company, Lady Eleanor. I hope you will forgive my absence."

  Unable to repress the urge, Elizabeth murmured, "No calling card, sir?"

  The warmth of his gaze would have set tinder ablaze. This time Elizabeth was glad when Eleanor's voice gave her an excuse to look away, relief that she had not lost his regard overwhelming her.

  "I do hope your business was resolved to your satisfaction." Eleanor's voice had a tight edge, making Elizabeth suddenly aware that Paxton had not accompanied Darcy when he joined them. He was across the room with his back to them, apparently deep in conversation with Captain Bradley. Paxton had never before failed to make his way to Eleanor's side at the earliest opportunity. He might as well have forsworn Eleanor to her face.

  Darcy did not pretend to misunderstand, but he glanced significantly at Miss Elliot. "It is a problem between two parties that defies a simple solution, but I have done what little was in my power."

  Eleanor did not respond immediately. Seeing her friend swallowing hard, Elizabeth stepped in to fill the silence. "It is always trying to mediate disputes, since I find often the solution can only come from communication between the principals. Why, I recall a disagreement that was resolved only when I received a letter which made me realize I had misunderstood certain events." Would he understand her emphasis on 'letter' was a hint that such a letter existed?

  Darcy seemed to be struggling with himself. "Did the letter soon make you think better of...the other party? One never knows with a letter if the recipient will, on reading it, give any credit to its contents."

  Normally Elizabeth would have laughed, but tonight she felt incapable of it. "Not immediately, I am sorry to say. My opinions tend to be decided ones, and, like most people, I dislike discovering that I am in the wrong. It took several readings to convince me I had not been in possession of all of the facts of the matter." Now she was able to manage an arch smile. "Over time, I even forgave the writer for having been right when I was wrong."

  A slow smile grew on his face. "That was generous of you. Of course, most disagreements are not simple; usually I find there is error and misunderstanding on both sides."

  Miss Elliot snapped her fan shut, apparently tired of being excluded from a conversation she did not understand. "Mr. Darcy, it is a shame you missed our excursion to York Minster. It is an astonishing sight, much larger and more awe-inspiring than it looks in the engravings. I have never seen its equal. Have you had the opportunity to visit it?"

  Darcy shifted in his seat, as if suddenly recalling where he was. "Not since I was a child. I cannot say I appreciated it then, since I was more interested in exploring the city walls with my cousin Huntingdon so that we could pretend to be knights defending the city from attacking hordes of barbarians."

  "I assume your defense must have been successful," said Elizabeth solemnly, "since I noticed no signs of barbarian hordes when we were there." With a warm look meant for her alone, Darcy said, "It pains me that you would doubt the ability of two young boys armed with sticks to defeat a barbarian horde."

  Abruptly Eleanor rose to her fe
et. "Excuse me. I find I am too warm sitting here." With quick steps she crossed the room to Paxton and Captain Bradley.

  "Well!" exclaimed Miss Elliot. "I would have said the room was a little cool."

  Darcy started out of his chair as if to follow her, then seemed to realize the inappropriateness of his action. "I hope Lady Eleanor is not ill," he said.

  Seizing on the excuse, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps I had best join her."

  But there was little she could tell by observing Mr. Paxton with Eleanor. He was perfectly polite, though he acted as if she were the merest acquaintance. Elizabeth did not know what to make of it - whether he was acting out of hurt or anger, or whether he wished for a reconciliation. Eleanor grew paler.

  At least Elizabeth would have the opportunity to obtain some answers from Mr. Paxton once dinner began. Lady Bentham, who was not one to allow her guests to seat themselves as they pleased, would not miss the opportunity to put him next to Elizabeth. It was such a certainty that when Elizabeth found her place card beside the near-deaf Sir William, she did not bother to look at the card on her other side.

  She was startled when Lord Charles took the place beside her. With a baleful look, she said, "I believe you may be in the incorrect seat, my lord."

  He smiled at her warmly, as if he had forgotten all her coldness of the past three days. Gesturing to the place card in front of him, he said, "My name is here."

  With a frown, Elizabeth glanced up the table where Paxton was seating himself between Miss Elliot and Eleanor, near the head of the table where Lord Charles and Darcy would usually be found. Lady Bentham would never have chosen this seating arrangement. "You switched the place cards." Her voice was low and accusing.