“I am unhurt,” she assured him. “I will not pretend it was not a trying experience for my nerves, but I will be fine, given a few moments to catch my breath.”
She looked at him deep into his eyes and blushed, suddenly remembering every part of the previous exchange. Mr. Darcy had said he loved her! But she did not yet feel ready to confront that. Instead, she lightly touched his right hand, which she could tell was bruised and swollen, and he sucked in his breath in pain.
“And you?” She asked. “Did he hurt you badly?”
“I will not pretend I won’t feel the treatment for a few days,” Darcy admitted, lifting his hand and examining it. “But it is well worth the cost, to have you safe.” Elizabeth blushed again.
“I owe you so much,” she said quietly. “I can hardly believe I was so foolish—to go off with him… To believe his terrible stories…” Elizabeth felt a rush of shame as she remembered how angry she had been toward Mr. Darcy, how ridiculous it had been to think that he only wanted her as a mistress. She could hardly bring the idea to mind, so unbelievable it now seemed.
“Wickham has a silvered tongue,” Mr. Darcy said bitterly. “He has convinced many others to do and believe things that they never would, under normal circumstances.”
“He mentioned your poor sister,” Elizabeth said softly. She could feel him stiffen in anger beside her. “Please, I’m sorry. I should not have mentioned it.”
“No,” he replied quickly. “I’m glad you know, if only to explain why I despised him even before tonight.”
“How is Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked, feeling hesitant. Mr. Darcy had only briefly mentioned his sister, but Elizabeth found that she cared for the girl, even without meeting her.
“She cried for months,” Mr. Darcy answered with a sigh. “Her heart was broken, but it is on the mend now. She will love again, and when she does, the man will be worth it.”
Elizabeth nodded, glad that Wickham had no permanent impact upon Georgiana Darcy. However, she noted that the conversation had again turned to love.
“You said some very interesting things, about… love,” she said slowly. She glanced at Darcy, and saw that he too looked as if he were blushing.
“Yes,” Mr. Darcy said, clearing his throat. “Yes. Miss Elizabeth, you have… captured me—body and soul. Your courage, your kindness, your intelligence… You are the most remarkable woman I have ever encountered and I… love… I love you. Most ardently.”
A slow burn of satisfaction began to burn through Elizabeth—he meant what he had said, he did love her! But a doubt reared up in her mind.
“But…” she said softly, not knowing how to phrase her concern. “What about Caroline Bingley?”
“Caroline?” Mr. Darcy asked, his eyebrows disappearing into the curls falling across his forehead. “What about her?” Elizabeth heard genuine surprise in his voice, and she began to feel that every assumption she had made that night was incorrect. But she needed to be certain.
“Well,” she said. “It is clear that she cares for you. And earlier… it seemed…” Elizabeth trailed off. Mr. Darcy sighed deeply and rubbed his face tiredly.
“I must never forget how astute you are,” Mr. Darcy said with a smile. “I do believe Caroline cares for me beyond the affection for a friend of her brother’s.” Elizabeth’s heart began to sink, hearing his words. He must have seen something in her face, because Mr. Darcy rushed on. “However,” he said firmly, “I do not share her affections. She will always only be Bingley’s sister to me.”
“What about the dance?” Elizabeth asked. Now that they were speaking of such things, she was determined to have all her questions answered. “This evening, she was so…” She looked away, not certain how to phrase her thoughts.
“Possessive,” Mr. Darcy finished, a touch of displeasure in his voice. Elizabeth nodded, glad he had said it in such terms, and not she. Mr. Darcy sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I had thought to deny her, but I could not embarrass her tonight. Not in her brother’s home, at a ball she had organised.”
Elizabeth nodded in understanding. “That was kind of you,” she said, happiness again building within her. Mr. Darcy’s kindness was again shining through, and all doubts about his feelings toward her had been settled. They fell into silence once more, but it seemed like Mr. Darcy had one more question for her.
“How did you manage to get away from Wickham?” He asked, sounding very curious. “One moment, he had you in a firm grasp. Then, next thing I know, he is on the ground and you are free. What happened?”
Elizabeth laughed, still amazed at what she had done.
“When you and that awful man began to fight, Wickham was momentarily distracted,” she said slowly. “His mistake. A hard kick, a scratch across the face, and he was not nearly as intimidating.”
Darcy laughed as well. “Well done,” he said approvingly.
Elizabeth blushed again, this time from happiness at Mr. Darcy’s reaction. She found that she enjoyed both his laugh and his good opinion. Before Elizabeth could add anything more to their conversation, she saw a light bobbing toward them. As it came closer, Mr. Bingley came into view.
“Darcy!” He cried, hurrying toward them. “Miss Elizabeth! I am pleased to see that you are unharmed.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Darcy answered. Elizabeth noticed he sounded as tired as she felt. “However, it would appear that our appearance is a bit… out of character.” Mr. Bingley looked at them up and down, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “Yes, I could see how this would be a problem…” He stood gazing at them, clearly thinking hard, tapping his finger against his lips. “Miss Elizabeth,” he finally said. “I believe you shall need to keep Darcy’s coat. And Darcy, you just need to adjust your shirt and collar. Believe me, no one will notice too much.” He grinned widely. “It has been a very enjoyable party.”
Elizabeth felt her worries drop away. If Mr. Bingley thought it would be fine, then there was no reason for her to continue to be afraid of what people would say. She looked at Mr. Darcy.
“I suppose it is time,” she said wearily.
“I think we have left it long enough,” Mr. Darcy agreed. He stood and gave her a small bow while offering her his hand—his left hand, she noted. She stifled a giggle, finding the gesture amusing under the circumstances. But she took his hand and got to her feet. For the first time, she realised how sore her body felt. She could feel bruises forming on her arms, and her back felt tight. A small groan escaped her lips.
“I am fine,” she reassured both men, cutting off their questions before either could ask. “Although I cannot say I would recommend the experience to anyone.” She gave a small laugh and after a moment, Mr. Bingley joined her.
“At some point, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, beginning to walk back toward the house. “I would like to hear the entirety of your tale for this evening. But even before hearing it, I am certain that your reaction is a testament to your superior character.”
Elizabeth blushed deeply, embarrassed to hear such things.
“Quite right,” Mr. Darcy agreed, and Elizabeth felt a rise of delight to hear his opinion. She was not surprised to hear it, but it was nice to hear his support. She did not respond to either man, for they had just exited the garden, and Elizabeth could now see two figures hurrying toward them in the darkness.
“Lizzy!” Jane cried as soon as she was close enough. She rushed past Mr. Bingley—not without giving him a smile, Elizabeth noted. However, the sight of her sister nearly broke Elizabeth’s calm. Tears sprung to her eyes once more and she threw her arms out to Jane.
“Oh, Jane!” She cried, collapsing onto Jane’s shoulder. “I am so glad you are here!” She allowed Jane to comfort her for a few moments, but she soon pushed away, subtly wiping her face. She glanced up and noticed that the second person to meet them was Charlotte. Elizabeth smiled at her old friend gratefully, and Charlotte gave Elizabeth a comforting pat on her back
.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I am so upset. I’m fine. Truly.” Elizabeth’s assertion did nothing to assuage either Jane or Charlotte’s concern. Each woman took one of Elizabeth’s arms and began to walk with her back to the house.
“No one has noticed much,” Jane assured Elizabeth. “Except Mama, of course. And, it seems that she has seen us.” Elizabeth looked up and saw Mrs. Bennet hurrying toward them, Kitty and Lydia on her heels.
“Elizabeth!” Mrs. Bennet cried across the lawn, not waiting to draw close to begin her questioning. “What happened? Why are you out here? It is so cold, you’ll catch your death out here! Whose coat are you wearing?” Mrs. Bennet did not stop her questioning long enough for Elizabeth to answer any one question. She sighed and suddenly felt more tired than she had at any point before.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Darcy’s voice answered from behind her. Elizabeth turned in surprise—she had not thought that he would answer her mother. “She has my coat. Miss Elizabeth unfortunately met with a small fall in the dark. A minor ankle twist, nothing more. But I felt I must help her back to the house.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed weakly, impressed that Mr. Darcy had come up with such a convincing story without preparation.
“My poor girl,” Mrs. Bennet said, pushing Charlotte out of the way and taking Elizabeth’s left arm. “I’m sorry, Charlotte dear.” Mrs. Bennet apologised a moment too late. Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte and saw that her friend was shaking her head ruefully—she had known Mrs. Bennet for a long time.
“Mama, please do not fuss,” Elizabeth begged as her mother dragged her toward the house. It was a good thing she had not truly twisted her ankle, as Mrs. Bennet’s pace was not conducive for a person with an injury.
“Let us get you inside and warmed up,” Mrs. Bennet said, ignoring Elizabeth’s pleas. “Here we are, let’s get inside.”
They reached the stairs leading up to the house, and Elizabeth noticed that more people had begun to notice their small party. She felt herself blush and wished she wouldn’t—it would only serve to make the watchers more curious about what happened.
“Oh, look, Lizzy,” Lydia said laughing. “Look at everyone staring at us!” Elizabeth knew that her youngest sisters would enjoy the attention, no matter the reason.
“Yes, they are,” Elizabeth said, not enjoying the eyes at all.
She could see Mary and Mr. Collins watching them, and then whispering together. Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were also looking, their eyes conveying nothing but disapproval—for what, Elizabeth could guess. Caroline would not be pleased to find her in either Mr. Darcy’s company or his coat. She sighed, feeling sorry for the woman. It could not be pleasant to have one’s feelings unrequited.
As for the general situation, there was nothing she could do now, only walk back into the ball and try to ignore the curious stares she gathered. Elizabeth heartily wished the evening would come to an end.
Chapter 28
Darcy
Darcy watched Elizabeth walk with her mother and sisters, knowing she was safe and cared for, but still wanting to protect her. He could not say from what, but he sensed that she was not entirely comfortable at the present.
They climbed the stairs and Elizabeth was joined by her other sister and father. When Darcy had first seen Mr. Bennet at the ball, the man had appeared thoroughly bored by the entire event—the only person whom Darcy might consider was enjoying the evening less than he himself!
Now, however, Mr. Bennet looked both interested and concerned. Certainly, he no longer looked bored. Darcy decided to give Elizabeth time with her family, and when he reached the interior of the house, he turned to the side and did not follow the Bennets. Bingley continued to walk with him.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Bingley asked quietly, his eyes still locked on the Bennets; on Jane Bennet, Darcy felt certain.
“If you’d like,” Darcy said with a tired sigh. “But I know my story will be far less interesting than Miss Bennet, so I cannot think to distract you with it now.”
Bingley started, clearly surprised, and tore his eyes away from the lady in question. He grinned guiltily at Darcy.
“I’m sorry, old friend,” he said. “You have caught me. But you have my attention now, I swear.”
Darcy smiled back and knew his friend spoke true. However, before he could begin to speak, Caroline and Mrs. Hurst joined them.
“Charles!” Caroline said, sounding slightly scandalised. “You have been gone far too long! People have been wondering where you were. We have had to make your excuses and it was most inconvenient.”
“Forgive me, Caroline,” Bingley sighed, sounding both fatigued and bothered. “Please believe me when I say it was unavoidable.”
Caroline folded her arms, clearly dissatisfied with her brother’s explanation. She tried to hide her glares at Darcy, but he did not miss them. He expected her confrontation, and did not have long to wait.
“And you, Mr. Darcy,” she said, desperately trying to sound as if she did not care. “What were you doing out there? With… her.” Darcy felt his mouth tighten; he did not care for the manner in which Caroline referred to Elizabeth.
“I was enjoying a bit of air,” Darcy said stiffly. “I was not aware that I required your permission to do so.”
Caroline looked startled and hurt by his response, and he immediately regretted his words. He had already done damage to her feelings that night, and it was unkind for him to add to her distress. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst both looked surprised as well, and not entirely comfortable with the direction of the conversation. However, no one spoke, which suited Darcy. He was too tired to either make apologies or be careful with his words.
Eventually, he would have to apologise to Caroline—he wanted to. Despite not sharing her affections, he still cared for her. However, tonight Darcy was in no position to mend the situation. Too much had passed over the past hour. His ribs had begun to ache and he could feel a bruise coming up around his eye. Darcy knew that it would soon be obvious to everyone, and he hoped that he could excuse himself before he had to answer questions he was not ready to face.
Darcy and Bingley watched the Bennet party; neither spoke, but they did not need to. Darcy watched Elizabeth answer her mother and sisters’ questions. From her face, it seemed that she was doing her best to avoid disclosing the serious nature of her adventure. The youngest sisters knew she had gone off with Wickham, so she could not avoid everything. However, Mrs. Bennet seemed reasonably calm, so Darcy assumed Elizabeth had found a way to leave out certain details of the evening.
“She is quite remarkable,” Bingley said softly after his sisters lost their patience with them and went back to their guests.
“Miss Bennet does seem a wonderful woman,” Darcy replied, assuming Bingley referred to his own interest.
“Yes, indeed she is,” Bingley agreed at once with a small chuckle. “But it is not about her whom I was speaking. Miss Elizabeth must have endured quite the ordeal tonight—in addition to that awfulness a few weeks ago with those highwaymen. But there she is: laughing, smiling, and ensuring that her family does not worry. I believe I have said it before, but it bears repeating; you have chosen well.”
“I hope so,” Darcy replied. He was acutely aware that he had laid his own feelings bare in the last hour, but he still did not know how Elizabeth felt. He knew what his hopes were, but she had yet to say anything upon the matter. Darcy looked sideways at Bingley. “How did you know that there was an ordeal?”
“You insult me,” Bingley replied. “You emerge from the garden, covered in mud—it is a good thing you chose to wear brown breeches this evening, by the way—sporting what I can tell are sore ribs, a swollen hand, and a bruised face as if you’d met a gentleman who took offence to your appearance. Something happened out there. You needn’t tell me anything more right now, but I know.”
Darcy nodded, again grateful that Bingley did not demand answers in that moment. He had been prepared
to tell him everything before his sisters joined them, but in the minutes since, the heaviness of the evening had settled upon him. He had absolutely no desire to do anything other than crawl into his bed.
However, as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he saw that the entire Bennet family was walking toward them. Elizabeth smiled at him shyly, and he immediately pushed his fatigue away, not wanting to show her how the evening had impacted him.
“Mr. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet said, sweeping into a low curtsy. “Your generous hospitality has proved to be a singular experience. I cannot think the last time I enjoyed myself so well. And I know I speak for my daughters as well when I say such things.”
“I am glad you could come,” Bingley responded, returning a bow. “Please know that nothing pleases me more than to hear you have spent a fine evening in my home.”
“We are loath to leave so early,” Mrs. Bennet continued, “but my poor Lizzy seems to have suffered a minor injury. For her sake, we must depart.”
Darcy felt Elizabeth’s eyes upon him, and he turned to meet her gaze. She looked at him with a serious expression, as if something heavy weighed upon her mind. He could not imagine what she dwelled upon—there were far too many choices for him to have any confidence that he was correct. But he bowed his head slightly, hoping she could feel his affection in the small gesture.
“I don’t see why we have to go,” Darcy heard one of the youngest girls grumble. Both of Elizabeth’s youngest sisters had sour expressions of disappointment painted upon their faces. “We did not twist our ankles. There are still many dances to be had.”
Mr. Bennet, however, placed a heavy hand on each of their shoulders.
“It is time to take our leave,” he said firmly. Both girls glanced at their father, and their scowls deepened for a moment before leaving their faces completely. Both stepped forward, simpering smiles upon their faces. They curtsied as one.
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