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

by Abigail Reynolds

  "I needed to speak with you, and it did not seem that you would permit it at any other time."

  "So you decided to force the issue. How charming."

  The servants began placing the covers in front of them, causing Elizabeth to subside rather than to have her speech overheard.

  "You are completely safe here. I can do nothing but speak to you. What harm can come of that? You have enjoyed my company in the past."

  Tempting as it might be to make a sharp retort, Elizabeth forced the words back. Quarreling would just draw attention to them, and the less anyone noticed his presence beside her, the happier she would be. He had trapped her well; she had no choice but to converse with him at least a little, but she need not do it on his terms.

  "I am not worried," she said lightly. "From the look on your stepmother's face, I do not doubt that you will regret your foolish action." Indeed, Lady Bentham was eyeing Lord Charles with evident distaste. Apparently she had no difficulty discerning who was to blame for the disruption of her carefully planned seating arrangement.

  "She is the least of my concerns - and you are the greatest of them. When I left last week, you and I were friends, but since my return, you want nothing to do with me. What happened? Has Eleanor been telling you stories about me?"

  There was a bowl of ragout by Elizabeth's place, and she took her time spooning some onto her plate. When she deemed the silence had lasted long enough, she said, "What think you of books, my lord? Have you any particular favorites?"

  He lowered his voice. "Pray, Elizabeth, do not do this to me, I beg you."

  She cocked her head to one side. "I do not recall granting you the right to make free with my Christian name."

  "My apologies. I should not have said that. It is how I think of you, and it slipped out."

  "Not as your Juliet?" Hopefully the scorn in her voice would give him pause.

  "Juliet came to a tragic end. I want to make you happy."

  His lies infuriated her. "I derive great enjoyment from reading. One learns such interesting things from it. I was reading the Gospel according to St. Matthew earlier. It is quite curious how things can strike one differently on re-reading a text."

  He smiled. "I assume this has some lesson for me in it."

  "I have always thought Judas Iscariot wanted the thirty pieces of silver because he was poor. I wonder if we would think differently of him if it turned out that the thirty pieces of silver were only an added incentive. Perhaps he enjoyed betraying our Lord. Which would be worse, do you think - betraying him for money or for pleasure?"

  "I do not know what you have been told, but I have not betrayed you, nor do I intend to do so - ever."

  "I know you will not, for I will not give you the opportunity. Which do you suppose has greater value - thirty pieces of silver or two hundred guineas?"

  He did a creditable job of looking puzzled. "It would depend on the size of the pieces of silver. I suppose, but my guess would be that few coins of the time were the equivalent of even one guinea."

  She smiled at him with absolutely no warmth. "Indeed, it is all about relative value, is it not? I am complimented that my life has such a great monetary value in comparison to that of our Lord. You see, your sister has no need to tell me stories about you when all I needed was to eavesdrop on the conversation of so-called gentlemen." Deliberately she turned away to face Sir William. Laying a hand on his arm to gain his attention, she pointed to the ragout and began to loudly praise its merits. Frustrating as it was to attempt to communicate to him, at least when Sir William looked baffled by what she was attempting to say, he was not pretending.

  There was another benefit of giving the old man her attention. Darcy sat two seats beyond him, and she could take comfort in seeing his profile. When he turned to speak to the lady on his left, his eyes caught hers.

  She could read nothing in his expression since the candles were just beyond him. Was he aware of her proximity to Lord Charles? Sitting on the same side of the table, he might be oblivious to it; but somehow it did not seem likely, given his tendency to watch her. What would he be thinking? He could not possibly think she would listen to Lord Charles's blandishments now, could he? Given her past foolhardy behavior despite his warnings, she could not blame him if he did, but she did not feel anger radiating from him as it had in the past. She tried to indicate her displeasure with the situation in her expression, but had no way to know if he comprehended her meaning.

  Darcy directed a significant glance past her up the table. Although reluctant to turn back toward Lord Charles, Elizabeth followed his gaze to where Eleanor and Paxton sat. Her eyes widened on seeing her friend's wooden countenance. Was that a tear running down her cheek? Elizabeth would have sworn Eleanor could keep her countenance in face of an invading army should she so choose. Paxton seemed completely unconcerned, dividing his conversation between Eleanor and Miss Elliot on his other side. With a surge of anger, Elizabeth wondered what he could have said to her friend to cause her such distress.

  "Miss Bennet," said Lord Charles gently. "Is something troubling you - apart from me, that is?"

  "Nothing, I thank you," she said.

  "I do not believe you."

  Elizabeth shrugged. "Believe what you like, my lord. You will anyway."

  "Pray, could we begin this conversation anew? I truly do not mean to anger you."

  This was pointless. She could not keep sniping at him for the two hours that dinner was bound to last, not while also worrying about Eleanor and knowing Mr. Darcy sat only a few feet away. "Very well," she said ungraciously. "I have no objection to a civil conversation over dinner, as long as it does not touch on personal topics."

  A look of warmth suffused his face, one which she would likely have found charming only a week before. "Thank you. I have missed talking to you, more than you know."

  "Pray do not waste your time with flattery, my lord."

  "Actually, that was the pure, unvarnished truth." Something in his voice, a certain bluntness, a lack of his usual artificiality, made Elizabeth look at him in surprise. "I have missed talking to you, whether you believe it or not."

  Unsure how to respond to this new approach, she simply shrugged lightly and returned to her food.

  He leaned closer to her, speaking softly near her ear. "I will not attempt to deny that when I first met you, I wanted only one thing from you, and it had nothing to do with conversation. Nor were you the first; it was how I approached any attractive young woman who took my fancy."

  Elizabeth's cheeks burned. "Lord Charles, we are in public, surrounded by your family and friends!" she hissed.

  "No one is paying any attention to us, and you have left me no other option if I am to speak to you."

  "You believe you can whisper in my ear during dinner without any effect on my reputation? I am not a fool!"

  "If your reputation is injured, I stand ready to make amends."

  "Do not be ridiculous, my lord. We have had this discussion before, and I repeat, I am not a fool."

  "You are very far from a fool, and that is precisely why I have so enjoyed our time together. You seek nothing from me, and that is more rare than pearls. I had forgotten how to spend time with an unmarried woman from whom I do not have to fear entrapment."

  "If you are trying to engage my sympathies, it is not working."

  "I am trying to do something that I have little practice at, and that is to tell you the truth."

  She shook her head with a smile. "Lord Charles, the only thing you are trying is my patience. If you hope that this approach will succeed where your earlier ones have failed, you are wasting your time."

  "What will it take to convince you to listen to what I have to say?"

  "You cannot buy good faith." Elizabeth glanced at Eleanor again. Her friend's complexion was white and she was biting her lip hard enough that it must be causing her substantial pain. Impulsively, she said, "If you wish to do something useful, you should look to your sister."

 
"If it is your wish." His brows furrowed, he turned toward the head of the table, then his breath hissed out between his teeth. "She cannot stay here, but I cannot take her away without a reason. Will you help me?"

  As far as Darcy was concerned, dinner was nothing more than a dull interval serving as advance payment for enjoying a few minutes in Elizabeth's company after the gentlemen rejoined the ladies. He had at first been concerned to see her sitting next to Carlisle, but it was clear from her expression that she was no happier about it than he was. So long as Elizabeth was decided against Carlisle, there was no need for him to worry. As he had cause to know, she had no difficulty refusing unwanted attentions.

  At least he had thought so until she unexpectedly left the table clinging to Carlisle's arm as if she required his support. She had not seemed unwell earlier. Was it possible Carlisle had slipped something into her wine to reduce her resistance? Darcy would not put it past him. Fury threatened to choke him. And now Carlisle was taking her out of the dining room, and she would be alone with him. Darcy's fingernails dug into his palms. If only his fingers were wrapped around Carlisle's neck!

  It was intolerable to think of Elizabeth, unwell and helpless with a man who was determined to take advantage of her. No, he would not allow himself to feel rage; he could not afford a megrim right now. Swallowing hard, he willed himself to remain calm. It was a singularly ineffective exercise.

  His every muscle tightened with the desire to follow them, but it would be the height of bad manners for him to leave the table without a reason, and it would make people ask questions. He had to stay there and remain civil while Carlisle took advantage of Elizabeth. No, that was ridiculous! How could he allow Elizabeth to suffer because others might think him ill-mannered?

  Without conscious decision, he found himself on his feet and moving toward the door. The front hall was empty. Where would Carlisle have taken her? He would not dare to take her to his bedroom, not in front of the servants, so it must be a public room. But which one? The main saloon was closest, but it was empty, as was the library. Where could they be in this ridiculously huge house? When he was eleven, he had known every room. Perhaps the grand gallery? He strode past two startled-looking footmen without a second glance.

  The echoing gallery was dark and silent. The music room was somewhere hereabouts, but where? Then he heard the faint sound of a woman sobbing, and he took off at a run in the direction from which it came. Flickering light came through a large doorway. The old orangerie, of course. He should have known the damned blackguard would take her somewhere secluded. He raced inside, ignoring the humid air and the greenery surrounding him. He was going to pull Carlisle off her and thrash him within an inch of his life.

  Darcy skidded to a halt when he reached the circle of benches in the center of the orangerie. The light of a large candelabra revealed Carlisle leaning back against a table, looking quite at leisure, a lighted cheroot in his hand. Confused, Darcy looked beyond him, only to discover Elizabeth seated on one of the benches, her arms around Lady Eleanor, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

  His breath rushed out with relief at finding Elizabeth safe and apparently unharmed. It was a moment before he realized the incongruity of what he had discovered. "What is the matter?" he asked Elizabeth.

  She gave him a meaningful look. "I suspect you can guess."

  So sitting together had not solved their problems as he had hoped it might when he had switched his place card with Paxton's. His endeavor had apparently made matters worse instead.

  Carlisle took a long draw on his cheroot, then blew out smoke in a straight line. "You have fortunate timing, Darcy. You are just the man I wish to see."

  "I am?"

  "Yes." Carlisle tapped the ash from the end of his cheroot. "I believe there is something you wish to say to my sister."

  Could Carlisle possibly have known of his maneuver with the place cards? That was the only reason Darcy could imagine for which he might be expected to apologize, but that would be to Lady Bentham, not to Lady Eleanor. He glanced at Elizabeth to see if she understood, but she looked as puzzled as he did. "I do not take your meaning."

  "Come. Darcy, I am not a fool. It is time for you to come up to scratch."

  What was this nonsense about coming up to scratch? Why would Carlisle wish him to propose to Elizabeth? This made no sense. Then he recalled Carlisle's first words about having something to say to his sister. He shook his head. "You misunderstand the situation. There is nothing between Lady Eleanor and me."

  "I had thought you too honorable for this sort of game, Darcy. Why did you switch the place cards if not to avoid sitting with her? Look what it has done to her. Now you come racing after her like St. George in search of a dragon, no doubt in hopes of finding her alone. Unless you wish to answer to me, you need to say your piece."

  Good God, was Carlisle threatening to call him out? If it were not such a serious matter, he would have been tempted to laugh. "I was not even aware that Lady Eleanor had left the dining room."

  "Somehow I doubt you were eager for a rendezvous with me," Carlisle drawled.

  Darcy opened his mouth to retort, then realized his danger. He still had no right to protect Elizabeth, and claiming to do so would ruin her reputation. Finally he said, knowing it was already too late to deflect Carlisle's suspicions, "I left the dining room for a few minutes and I heard someone crying."

  To his astonishment, Elizabeth said testily, "Oh, just tell him the truth. Mr. Darcy and my father are friends, and he has been trying to prevent me from being alone with you. I imagine he thought we needed a chaperone."

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Darcy merely nodded. Her explanation could still endanger her reputation, but the way she said it had stripped out any implication that he was interested in her himself.

  Carlisle did not appear appeased. "And how does your friendship with her father explain your switching the place cards?"

  "You were the one who switched the cards!" cried Elizabeth. "You as much as admitted it to me."

  "So I did, but in this case, my dearest Miss Bennet, I was not the only person who switched them. Or perhaps you care to deny that as well, Darcy?"

  "I would advise you to take more care in how you bandy about my honor, Carlisle. I do not deny it."

  "And what possible reason would you have for doing so?"

  "I have no reason to avoid your sister, but I did not desire to sit with Miss Elliot, for reasons I am certain you can guess. Paxton is beneath her notice, so she would not try to entrap him." It was the sort of thing Carlisle himself would do, so it would be hard for him to dismiss.

  Carlisle tapped one finger slowly on the table as he considered this.

  Elizabeth laughed. "I wonder how many other people have been switching place cards. Poor Lady Bentham must be distraught over the wreckage of her seating plan! Now, gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to take your disagreement elsewhere, perhaps I will be able to assist Lady Eleanor."

  The dark look that Carlisle aimed at Darcy told him that this was not over yet.

  Elizabeth watched them depart with relief. The last thing Eleanor needed was another quarrel.

  "Are they gone?" Eleanor's voice trembled as she raised her head from Elizabeth's shoulder.

  "Yes, dearest."

  "I should have said something, but I could not face Mr. Darcy, not like this, knowing that he would tell Geoffrey about it."

  "What did he do to you?"

  "Geoffrey?" Eleanor choked back another sob. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

  "He would not speak to you?"

  "Oh, he spoke to me. That was the worst. He talked to me as if I were an ordinary lady of the ton, as if I had no thoughts in my head beyond lace and the next ball. He even told me not to trouble my mind with men's business when I mentioned something about the war." Tears began to flow down Eleanor's cheeks once again.

  Elizabeth winced. "I am so sorry, my dear. That was cruel of him."

  "Oh, I wish he had not come! Why did
Darcy have to move the place cards? He at least would not have treated me so." Her voice dropped. "Then again, I would have said that Geoffrey would not have, either."

  "He said nothing else?"

  Sniffing, Eleanor dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "Yes," she said dully. "At the very beginning, just as we sat down, he leaned toward me and said. 'It is him or me. You cannot have both! He is still determined to have nothing further to do with me."

  "At least if you marry Lord Deyncourt." said Elizabeth carefully.

  "I have no choice!"

  "Eleanor, dearest, listen to me. What do you stand to lose if you refuse him?"

  "Everything! My family would disown me, I would never be able to return to my home, even as a visitor, and I would be cast off by the ton."

  Elizabeth had survived exile from Bentham Park and emerged the stronger for it. "Your stepmother would certainly never speak to you again, but I cannot see that as a serious loss. Your grandmother would not reject you. Your brothers are old enough to make their own decision, and if they are as perpetually short of money as you say, they might see the wisdom in visiting their sister with the wealthy husband. As for the ton, I have yet to hear you speak of it with any pleasure. Losing your home and your father would be high price indeed, and if that is harder than losing the man you love, then you are making the right decision."

  "You do not understand! If I refuse to marry Lord Deyncourt, they will lock me in a room with nothing but a Bible until I am so weak from hunger and afraid for my life that I will do anything they say. They have done it before."

  "Oh, my dear! I am so sorry." Despite herself, Elizabeth was horrified. She had not thought even Lady Bentham would go so far or that Lord Bentham would permit it. No wonder Eleanor had seemed to lose her spirits after her father's remarriage!

  "I have no choice. Even marrying Lord Deyncourt is better than that."