Evenings with Darcy

by Jane Grix

Bingley said, “I don’t mind Mrs. Bennet . . . in small doses.”

  Darcy smiled. “Then you are a better man than I.”

  “And Jane. You thought before that she didn’t like me. But what do you think now?”

  Darcy had tried to convince his friend not to pursue the eldest Miss Bennet weeks before, but now, having watched the two of them smiling at each other, he thought that separating them might be an impossible task. “I think she likes you,” he admitted.

  Bingley beamed. “She would make a marvellous wife, don’t you think?”

  “You not even twenty-three years old,” Darcy said. “Why are you determined to wed so quickly? Take your time.”

  “Why should I? I will never find another woman as wonderful as she.”

  Darcy was beginning to think the same for Jane’s sister. Elizabeth Bennet was uniquely marvellous. He said only, “Please do not be impulsive. Once you are married, there is no turning back.”

  “I have no desire to turn back.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I have seen you in love before.”

  “Those were fleeting infatuations. Not the deep abiding love I feel for Jane.”

  Deep abiding love? What could Bingley know of that? Darcy scoffed. “You admire her. You enjoy her company. But how well do you truly know her? And more than that, how much of your admiration is based upon her beauty? Would you love her as much if she weighed five stone more and lost her hair?” As he spoke, Darcy knew that he was asking Bingley the questions he should ask himself.

  Bingley laughed. “Now you are ridiculous. Girls often grow to look like their mothers and Mrs. Bennet is still a handsome woman.”

  Darcy saw that there was no dissuading him. “I wish you well then.”

  “Thank you,” Bingley said. “I appreciate your advice.”

  “You’re welcome.” Darcy knew that Bingley looked up to him as if he were a wiser, older brother.

  Darcy looked out the carriage window at the London Streets. Not for the first time, he wished that his father were still alive. He wished he could speak with him and get his advice on love and marriage. Darcy’s parents had seemed very happy together, but how much of that was due to their excellent character and years of living together?

  Bingley interrupted his thoughts. He said, “And of course you’ll come to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Am I invited?”

  “Yes, and Georgiana, too.”

  “Very well,” Darcy said. “We will be there.”

  AT DINNER WITH THE Hursts, Elizabeth finally met Miss Darcy, the paragon of virtue that Miss Bingley had mentioned so many times. Elizabeth was surprised to see that she was taller than average, having a similar look to her brother, and she was very shy.

  She seemed friendly and sweet-natured, but she said even less than her brother. Elizabeth found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.

  Elizabeth remembered that Mr. Wickham had called her proud, which was obviously a mischaracterization.

  After dinner, the women of the party excused themselves and went to a drawing room. Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Gardiner and Jane played a card game while Elizabeth sat with Miss Darcy by a fireplace.

  Elizabeth said, “I have heard that you play the piano forte very well.”

  Miss Darcy looked alarmed. “Oh please, do not expect me to play tonight. I have nothing by memory.”

  “Oh no, I would not push for that,” Elizabeth assured her.

  There was a silence and then Miss Darcy asked Elizabeth if she was enjoying her visit to London.

  “Yes, very much. But I am looking forward to Spring and better weather. On most days, it is too bitter cold to go walking.”

  “Walking?” Miss Darcy asked. “Good heavens. Where would you walk?”

  “There are some parks.”

  “Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”

  “I do not,” Elizabeth confessed. “I did not take the time and effort to learn because – well – to be honest, horses frighten me.”

  Miss Darcy was surprised. “That is too bad. I was frightened by horses when I was very young, but my brother made certain I had gentle mounts until I overcame my fear.”

  Elizabeth thought it likely that Mr. Darcy had insisted that she learn. She said, “In some ways, I envy you your brother. I always wanted a brother, but instead I have four sisters.”

  Miss Darcy smiled. “And I envy your sisters. I imagine that it would be very nice to always have a sister to confide in.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “My sister Jane and I are very close.”

  Miss Darcy said, “I have a companion, a Mrs. Annesley, but it is not the same.”

  Elizabeth understood from prior conversations that both of Miss Darcy’s parents had died. “Are you often lonely?”

  Miss Darcy said quietly, “I am.”

  Elizabeth smiled and patted her hand. “Then I shall be your friend, if your brother will allow it.”

  “Allow it? Whatever can you mean? Fitzwilliam would like me to have more friends. It is something we have discussed before.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Do not take offense. I was only teasing because I sometimes get the impression that your brother does not approve of me.”

  “Oh no,” Miss Darcy said. “My brother thinks highly of you. He told me that you were one of the more intelligent women he has met.” Miss Darcy looked down, embarrassed. “Indeed, I was afraid that you might be a bluestocking and find my education completely lacking.”

  “Now you must be teasing me,” Elizabeth said. “For I know your education must have been excellent. Your brother would allow nothing less.”

  Miss Darcy said quietly, “I did have the best tutors, but I prefer music to languages and the sciences.”

  “Sciences?” Elizabeth repeated. “You astonish me.” In the fashionable world, women were rarely taught any of the sciences. “Your brother must have progressive ideas.”

  Miss Darcy said, “He thinks that most women have nothing in their heads but fashion and flirtation. He wants better for me.”

  Elizabeth was surprised. It seemed that Mr. Darcy took his duties as his sister’s guardian seriously. “You are fortunate, indeed,” she said.

  At this moment, the gentlemen joined them. The rest of the evening included more cards, light conversation and Mrs. Hurst playing the piano forte. Bingley spent most of his time sitting beside Jane.

  Mr. Darcy said little, but as before, he seemed to watch Elizabeth closely, as if debating a serious matter. And then as the party was breaking up, he invited everyone to the theatre later in the week. He turned to Mr. Gardiner for his approval. “That is, if you are in agreement, sir.”

  Mr. Gardiner was amused. “I can imagine the discord in my household if I was not in agreement, sir. The ladies would never forgive me.” He gave a little laugh. “Naturally, we would all be most pleased.”

  “DO YOU NOT LIKE SHAKESPEARE, Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth sat between Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy in the front row of a private box at the theatre. Elizabeth was thrilled by the spectacle, for the theatre audience was almost as amusing at the performance, but it amused her to see Mr. Darcy glower at the actors.

  “I beg your pardon?” Mr. Darcy said quietly.

  “You appear not to be enjoying the play.”

  “Romeo and Juliet is not my favourite play,” Darcy admitted. “But I assure you, I am enjoying myself.”

  “And that is why you glare at the performers?”

  “Glare? Whatever can you mean?”

  Elizabeth tried to imitate him by narrowing her eyes and scowling. “Thusly.”

  Darcy smiled. “Don’t be absurd. Surely I do not look like that.”

  Miss Darcy joined their conversation. “Not precisely. But sometimes when you are concentrating, you look as if you are frowning. I believe it is due to the shape of your eyebrows.”

  Elizabeth cocked her head to one side as she surveyed him, considering the matter. Mr. Darcy did have dramatic
eyebrows. “I believe you are right,” she said finally.

  Darcy frowned at her.

  “There,” Elizabeth said triumphantly. “There it is again.”

  “What?”

  “The superior Darcy glare.”

  “What?”

  “I am sorry. Now I have offended you.”

  “You have not,” he assured her. “I am merely concerned by the possibility that I have been misread and misunderstood my entire life based upon my facial features.”

  “Oh no,” Elizabeth said. “it is not merely your facial features. It is your tone of voice as well.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he said frostily.

  “Precisely. When you speak, your tone implies impatience and disgust for all us lesser mortals.”

  Darcy paled. “Is that how you see me?”

  There was a sincerity in his words that surprised her and made her suddenly uncomfortable. Elizabeth had been teasing him for he was a satisfying target, but now she saw how impolite she had been. “Not entirely,” she said quickly. “I believe some of it is due to your natural reserve and your height. By necessity, you look down on most of us. But forgive me. I should not be so ungracious to my host.”

  “No,” he said. “I want to know what you think of me.”

  His eyes seemed to burn as they focused on her. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth found herself at a loss for words. What did she think of Mr. Darcy? She had disliked him for months, but in the past few days, she’d seen a different side to him. He may have harmed Wickham, but he was a good friend to Bingley and a good brother to Georgiana Darcy. He had been surprisingly polite to her aunt and uncle Gardiner, asking about their family and their business.

  Elizabeth realized belatedly that she did not really know Mr. Darcy at all. She had made a series of assumptions based on snatches of conversations. She said lightly, “You once asked me not to sketch your character.”

  “That was at Bingley’s ball.”

  “Yes, and your request was a reasonable one. I hardly know you, Mr. Darcy, so I will reserve judgement.”

  Darcy said, “Thank you. I wish I were better skilled at conversation. I do not have the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with everyone I meet. I cannot catch their tone or conversation or appear interested in their concerns as I often see done.” He glanced at Bingley. “I do not have my friend’s ease and manners.”

  No, that was obvious, and in the past, Elizabeth would have judged him harshly for it. But tonight, she could not. Not when he confessed his lack honestly. She said, “Perhaps you should practise more.”

  He looked at her intently. “I shall endeavour to do so.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Darcy sat between Elizabeth and Miss Bingley in the boxed seats. Between heaven and hell, he thought. Jane sat next to Bingley, and the Gardiners were seated in the back. Miss Bingley tried to catch his attention by keeping up a steady stream of trite observations. She commented on the play, the members of the audience and previous conversations. “Your eyebrows are perfectly fine,” Miss Bingley said staunchly. “And if others perceive you as aloof, so much the better.” She sniffed. “I believe social distinctions should be maintained.”

  Miss Bingley chose to forget that her own fortune had been made in Trade.

  When the play ended, Georgiana was in tears. Darcy saw Elizabeth hand her a handkerchief. Georgiana said, “If only Romeo had waited a few more minutes, Juliet would have woken and everything would have been fine.”

  Darcy said, “But would it? Their families were still enemies, and Romeo had killed Paris. I think the story would have had a sad ending even if both lovers had lived.”

  Elizabeth said, “When I was younger, I thought Shakespeare meant to celebrate the beauty of young love, but now I wonder if the play is a warning instead.”

  Darcy smiled. Elizabeth often intrigued him with her observations. “Do you think Juliet would have been happier if she had never met Romeo?”

  “Perhaps. But she was very young. Too young to fall in love, I think.”

  Georgiana sighed. “I don’t blame her at all. Romeo was so romantic.”

  Darcy looked at Georgiana sharply. Was she still pining for George Wickham? The man had tried to elope with her when she was only fifteen.

  Elizabeth said, “Juliet was foolish to fall in love over mere words. She knew little of his true character.”

  Georgiana said, “Should she have married Paris as her parents wanted?”

  “Oh no,” Elizabeth said. “I would not go that far! But ultimately, when it comes to marriage, one must make one’s own decision, regardless of what one’s family may think. After all, marriage is until death.”

  Darcy did not want Georgiana to hear this. He said, “Surely one should respect the opinions of one’s family.”

  “Respect yes, but blind obedience, no.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Darcy said finally. If he was obedient to his own family, he would be married to his cousin Anne. His aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh had wanted him to marry her for years, regardless of the wishes of the two of them.

  He would never marry his cousin. He would marry whomever he wished, when he wished. Darcy watched, deep in thought, as Elizabeth continued to talk with Georgiana and they fastened their coats.

  He overheard Elizabeth telling Georgiana quietly in a confidential tone, “Recently I received a proposal of marriage that I did not want, and my mother insisted that I accept the man. I refused, and she is still angry with me, so that is why I am in London now – to put distance between us.”

  Darcy was astonished by the jealousy that filled his heart. Marriage? Someone else had proposed to Elizabeth – who was it? Could it be Wickham? Darcy felt a wave of relief that she had refused the man. Otherwise she would be engaged at this very moment, possibly even married.

  The idea that she could have belonged to another horrified him.

  Georgiana said, “I admire you. You are so brave. I don’t know how you could go against your own mother’s wishes.”

  Elizabeth smiled and said, “Fortunately my father was of a like mind to myself. He did want me to marry the man, either.”

  Darcy decided that he liked Mr. Bennet after all.

  Georgiana said, “What would you have done if he had insisted that you marry him?”

  Darcy leaned forward, wishing to know the answer as well.

  “I don’t know,” Elizabeth said lightly. “Unlike Juliet, I didn’t have a handsome young suitor under my balcony and a priest willing to marry us in secret.”

  Georgiana smiled at her humour and Darcy said, “Does Longbourn even have a balcony?”

  Elizabeth said, “No.”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper so only Elizabeth would hear him. “Then how is a gentleman supposed to woo you?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened and Darcy did not trust himself to continue the conversation, so he turned to Mr. Gardiner and asked him if he had enjoyed the play.

  GOOD HEAVENS. ELIZABETH scarcely knew what to think. Was Mr. Darcy flirting with her? There was no other interpretation of his actions to be made. His words made her heart beat so fast, she felt a little like her mother with her infamous palpitations.

  Throughout the carriage ride back to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth was silent. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner spoke about the play and the evening. “Mr. Darcy improves upon further acquaintance,” Mr. Gardiner said. “He was always perfectly well behaved and polite, but as we spend more time together, his manners are more open and unassuming.”

  Mrs. Gardiner agreed. “I find it difficult to believe that such a man could have treated Mr. Wickham so cruelly. What do you think, Lizzy?”

  “It is a puzzlement,” she said honestly.

  “Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley are certainly good friends,” Mrs. Gardiner continued. “And Miss Bingley acts as if there is an understanding between them. If she were my daughter, I would be ashamed of her bold behaviour. She is forever touching his arm and l
aughing with him. Jane, what do you think? Do you think Mr. Darcy is in love with Miss Bingley?”

  Jane said, “I think the preference is on her part, not his, but Mr. Darcy is a reserved person. Who can tell what he is actually feeling?”

  That was true, Elizabeth thought, and wondered if she had misread his teasing.

  AFTER THE BENNETS AND Gardiners left, Darcy and Bingley stayed up later, playing chess and drinking brandy by the fireplace. Since Bingley was already at his brother-in-law’s home, he had removed his coat and was now in shirt-sleeves and waistcoat. Darcy was still formally dressed and the only relaxing of his presence was that he had loosened his cravat and run his fingers through his hair.

  “I’m going to propose,” Bingley said bluntly. “Do you think tomorrow is too soon?”

  Darcy moved one of his pawns. “Yes.”

  “Then when? How much longer must I wait?”

  “Give me two more weeks.”

  Bingley startled. “Give me? What are you saying, Darcy?”

  “As much as you are thinking of marrying Miss Bennet, I am thinking of marrying Miss Elizabeth.” Tonight he had made his decision. He could not bear the thought of anyone else marrying her.

  “Oh, that is excellent news!” Bingley said happily.

  “Do not congratulate me, yet. The woman has not said yes.”

  “But she will. No woman is going to turn down the possibility of becoming the Mistress of Pemberley.”

  “I would prefer not to be married for my fortune.”

  “Forgive me,” Bingley said. “Of course not. I did not mean that your fortune was your only advantage. Blame the brandy for my muddled words. But seriously, you are Mr. Darcy. Tall and imposing. Good-looking –“

  “Thank you,” Darcy said dryly.

  “You are not blind. You know that you have always been a catch on the Marriage Market.”

  “As are you.”

  “Not to the same degree. Of course, Miss Elizabeth will say yes.”

  Darcy sipped his drink. “I think she will, but I want to be certain. Sometimes she looks at me and I wonder if she disapproves of me.”