Surprised by Love

by Jane Wentworth

  “Not at all,” she said, approaching him slowly. “Please do not feel like you must go. You are the guest at Netherfield, not I.” She frowned. “How did you know I was fond of it?”

  He flushed. “I have seen you enter the maze many times. It is visible from my bedroom window.”

  “Oh,” she stammered, not quite sure what to say. “I see. Yes, I adore this place.”

  “I often thought to join you here, but decided against it each time. I did not wish to intrude.”

  Her heart felt like it might burst at any moment. How thoughtful of him! Her own family never gave a second thought to interrupting or disturbing her at any time of the day or night.

  “And now I fear I have.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I fear I have intruded by even mentioning it.”

  “Oh no,” she said, waving her hand wildly. She did not wish to give him the wrong impression. “You have not. Not in the slightest.” She stopped. She had been about to remark on how much she enjoyed his company. Thank goodness she had stopped herself in time. It was bad enough that they were out here quite alone without her uttering such an imprudent thing.

  But that was the problem: now that she was aware of her feelings, how could she ever hope to keep them hidden? She wanted to scream and shout her love for him. It was alarming. She had always prided herself for acting with decorum. That was becoming impossible around Darcy.

  “Are you sure you do not mind? You seem put out.”

  “No,” she said, sitting on the other bench across from him. “Not at all.” She stared at him. Conversation had always flowed so freely between the two of them, but now she found herself at an utter loss for words. She hoped it was temporary. She valued his friendship very much and could not bear the thought of losing it now, even though she knew that was foolish. After all, he had no ties to Netherfield beyond his friend and he would surely return to town for the season. She was a fool, she knew, but she could not control how she felt.

  “Thank you for earlier,” she said. “My sister can act the fool sometimes.”

  He smiled. He smiled often in those days, in contrast to the rather dour impression he had given of himself in the early days of their acquaintance. “Yes, I am aware of that, which is why I sought to act swiftly. Do not worry. It is not as if anyone will think ill of you because of your sister’s actions.”

  She snorted with laughter and was immediately mortified by her reaction. “Forgive me,” she hissed, her breath hot against the hand that she had clamped over her mouth. “I did not mean to be so uncouth. It was simply a… oh, Mr. Darcy,” she sighed. “Only a man could say such a thing. I often worry that Lydia shall do something scandalous from which there is no recovery and we will all be ruined.” She blinked, wondering what had possessed her to say something like that to the man she loved. It hardly reflected favourably on her.

  But Darcy did not look in the least bit put out. Probably, she thought, because he did not think of her as someone he would marry.

  “I did not realise the depth of your concern,” he said with a frown. “If her behaviour worries you this much, why have you not spoken to your parents?”

  She sighed and looked at her hands. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I feel I have already said too much. I ought not to have said what I said earlier in the ballroom. My parents would be rightly furious if they knew what I told you. It was just that I could see no-one around and I worried that she might run off with him from the way she was talking.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “No, you were right to seek my help. He is a man who is absolutely without morals. Better to tell me than to remain silent and watch as she ruins her reputation.” He looked at her intently. “I will never repeat anything you tell me; not to anyone.”

  She smiled, allowing herself a moment to believe there was more that bonded him to her than the Bingleys.

  “He will not concern you again, in any case. I have sent him on his way.”

  “You have? But how? He is a wealthy man.”

  “I know things about him that no-one else does. Wickham knows this. I suppose I am the only one who has ever been able to exert any influence over him because of it.”

  “So he went away. Just like that.”

  He considered this for a moment. “Not without some protest, but he understood in the end.”

  She nodded. There was something so powerful about Darcy; the way he described so simply the things that others would find impossible to achieve. She smiled. They had a strange relationship. Perhaps that was why they got along so well: when others were intimidated by Darcy, Elizabeth could not help but tease him. Now was no exception, which heartened her—perhaps their friendship could survive her newly-discovered feelings after all. “It is a pity for poor Mrs. Wickham that you were not able to intervene on her behalf.”

  He baulked and she regretted what she had said. “I would have tried my damnedest if I had known, but it was too late when I found out.”

  “Oh Darcy,” she cried. “I was teasing. Of course it was not your responsibility. You warned her parents. They are the ones who ought to have stopped her.”

  “Yes, I suppose,” he said quietly. “In any case, at least I could send him away from here; from you and your sisters. He is to pack and go north this very evening. You will not see him again.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” And she did. She could not believe he had gone to such trouble for her sister. The only problem was that she now loved him even more.

  Chapter Four

  Several days had passed since the ball, and they had passed far more slowly than might usually have been expected thanks to the outbreak of flu that had struck down many around Longbourn. Elizabeth was in poor spirits. She put it down to not having seen Jane for several days, but she knew the truth was rather more complicated than that. Darcy was the one she could not stop thinking of, not her sister. It was his absence that made her feel bored by the pursuits that usually delighted her.

  So when they heard the clatter of hooves on the drive, Elizabeth was the first to leap from her chair and hurry to the door, assuming the Netherfield party had also grown bored and decided to join them.

  She was soon disappointed.

  “Who is it?” her father called from his library.

  “I do not know,” she answered truthfully. It was a private carriage she had never seen before. “Are you expecting a visitor?”

  That was her first assumption. Ever since Mr. Collins’s arrival earlier in the year, any unexpected guest to Longbourn House was now assumed to have corresponded with her father who had simply forgotten to announce the arrival to the rest of the family.

  “No,” came the reply.

  And even if Mr. Bennet had not answered, Elizabeth would have soon seen for herself that it was not an associate of her father who had arrived.

  A rather formidable older woman emerged from the carriage, dressed head to toe in black as if in mourning. She refused the help of the groom and marched across the lawn. Elizabeth stared in disbelief. This was not a relation. The woman’s wealth was evident and she knew enough about her extended family to know that this woman was not a part of it.

  It was too late to go back inside now, since the woman had fixed her with a gaze that was at once stern and compelling. Elizabeth cleared her throat and stood her ground. They had not exchanged two words and yet she found this woman curiously intimidating.

  “Miss Bennet? Are you Miss Bennet? Well, do not stand there like a fool, girl. Answer me!”

  Elizabeth shook her head. She was by no means cowardly, but she had never been addressed in such a manner by anyone. Indeed, the woman had not even seen fit to introduce herself. She looked behind her and saw her mother and father standing close by, looking as incredulous as she felt.

  “Who in blazes are you?” her father said, pushing past to address the woman.

  Elizabeth shuddered. He was a mild-mannered man who prided himself on his gentlemanly ways. She had never heard him
address someone in that way, let alone in such a harsh tone of voice.

  Not that it seemed in any way unwarranted.

  Their guest might not have agreed. She pursed her lips. “How dare you address me in such a way. I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh and I have never been spoken to like that in my life. I was told you are a gentleman.”

  “I am,” Mr. Bennet snapped. “And I have heard of you, madam. My cousin speaks highly of you. I must warn you, though: no matter who you are, you will receive no courtesy here if you continue to address my daughter with such impertinence. What is your business here?”

  “Her,” she spat, pointing at Elizabeth. “Assuming that is Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth shook her head when her father looked back at her. “I have never met her before in my life. I cannot imagine the reason for this visit.”

  “Well then,” Mr. Bennet said, turning back to their visitor. “There must be some error on your part. My daughter has no memory of ever meeting you.”

  Elizabeth smiled to herself. The only good thing to come of this shocking visit was the knowledge that her father would stand up for her against anyone, no matter their stature.

  “What are you grinning at, girl? Do you think your father can protect you from me?”

  “Now hold on a moment,” Mr. Bennet said, starting down the steps. “You cannot come here and threaten my daughter. That is enough. Get back in your carriage and ride out of here before I do something I may regret.”

  The woman puffed herself up in a way that made her seem far taller than her already above average height. “I will do whatever is necessary to protect my own family,” she hissed, squinting at Elizabeth. “Let this be your last warning. Fitzwilliam Darcy is my nephew and I am very fond of him indeed, even more so because he is engaged to marry my daughter Anne. So you can imagine my alarm when I heard that you were attempting to sway his attention away from my dear girl.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that my nephew would lower himself to marry you.”

  Elizabeth gasped. They were the words of an angry woman but they stung nonetheless, especially since she had reached that very conclusion on her own. “I am not… I have not…” she was so flustered that she could not even gather the words to defend herself.

  “You will not,” Lady Catherine cried. “Or the consequences for you will be dire. Now.” She flicked her shawl back over her shoulder. “I will not stand in this place a moment longer. I hope we shall never have the misfortune of meeting again. Heed my warning, girl.”

  She marched back to her carriage, leaving the entire Bennet family staring after her in shock.

  Chapter Five

  The next time Elizabeth heard a carriage approach that day, she stayed sitting where she was. Her father had assured her that he would not allow that awful woman anywhere near her, but Elizabeth’s emotions were far more complex than anyone knew. She did not fear the woman. Nor did she have any intention of following her warning. That was the problem. Lady Catherine was wrong. She was not engaged to Darcy. And she likely never would be.

  She was deep in thought about this point when Jane hurried into the room. “Lizzy, darling, I came as soon as I heard.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Word of…” She stopped. There was no need to ask—she knew what Jane meant. “How did you hear? The servants?”

  Jane nodded. “You know how they gossip and I am not surprised on this occasion. How utterly scandalous!”

  “So Lady Catherine did not go to Netherfield afterwards to see her nephew, I presume.”

  “No, she did not. And it is well for her too, for I have never seen Darcy so angry before!”

  Elizabeth groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. “So Darcy knows.”

  “Yes, I am afraid so. But you must not worry. He does not blame you. In fact, he has spoken of cutting off all ties with his aunt.”

  “But he must think…” she shook her head. It was almost too unbearable to contemplate. What must Darcy think? Someone must have realised the extent of her feelings for him and written to his aunt to tell her. If even Lady Catherine had not written to him, he was an intelligent man—he would surely deduce what had happened. “How terribly embarrassing!”

  Jane pulled her into her arms. “Only for Lady Catherine,” she whispered. “The fault does not lie with you.”

  Elizabeth smiled. It was good to see Jane after almost a week’s absence from each other, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. “How have you been?”

  “Oh, bored. The atmosphere at Netherfield… Lizzy, it has been insufferable and I do not say that lightly. Darcy has been in a dark mood since we last saw you and Caroline has been similarly afflicted, though her spirits recovered somewhat in the middle of the week. Their misery has rubbed off on us. I am so very glad to see you!”

  One of the maids brought tea and the sisters settled down on the sofa. Mary was reading a book in the corner and they had no idea where Kitty and Lydia had gotten to.

  “What can possibly have driven Lady Catherine to confront you? You and Darcy are not engaged.”

  I do not need to be reminded of that fact, Elizabeth thought darkly, though she gave no indication of her feelings. She did not wish to burden Jane when there was no point in doing so. Confiding in her sister would hardly change Darcy’s heart and that was the only thing that could make her feel better.

  “I do not know. She was adamant, though; it was rather a sight to witness.”

  “I can only imagine! Did you cry? I think I might have cried.”

  “Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth said laughing. “This would not have happened to you. You are too good.”

  “But so are you, Lizzy,” Jane exclaimed. “You must not doubt it simply because that frightful woman came here to berate you.” Her features rearranged into a thoughtful look. “You know, I can understand how she might have made that mistake. You and Darcy do look fine together. And you get along rather well, do you not?”

  Elizabeth flushed. She had never spoken to anyone about her growing friendship with Darcy. Even though they had teased her, her family had never asked her about it. And she was thankful for that. “Yes, of course we do. He is Bingley’s friend and I am your sister.”

  Jane was silent for a moment. “But Caroline is his sister,” she said thoughtfully. “And you can barely tolerate her.”

  “No, that is not true,” Elizabeth stammered, before giving up. How could she deny that? She and Miss Bingley had never really liked each other. “It is different. Miss Bingley is a difficult character. Darcy is not. He is…” she stopped herself. Now was not the time to start listing his many wonderful qualities.

  But Jane would not let the matter lie, which was quite unlike her. “Lizzy, how can you deny it? You are perfect for each other. Charles and I have discussed it privately, always assuming that you two would eventually—“

  The sisters turned around. The door had been opened so violently that the handle slammed against the wall and knocked a chunk of plaster to the ground.

  “Excuse me,” the footman said, looking flustered as he appeared in the doorway behind Mr. Darcy.

  “No,” Darcy muttered. “It is my fault entirely, not this man’s. Miss Bennet, I must speak to you at once.”

  Chapter Six

  “Look, Mr. Darcy, I…” Elizabeth started as soon as they had ventured a hundred yards from the house. Jane had accompanied them, but soon stopped to admire one of the hedges, leaving Elizabeth to speak to Darcy in peace—not that she had any idea what to say.

  “No. Please listen to me, Miss Bennet. My aunt’s arrival here was as much of a surprise to me as it must have been to you.”

  At this, she could not help but smile. “Oh, it was a surprise to me. That is an understatement.” Even recalling the woman’s spiteful countenance sent shivers down her arms. She had never seen anyone so angry—and without any cause at all.

  “It is no laughing matter. I assure you that I am thoroughly livid at her and that I shall speak to her as soon as I see her. She ca
nnot carry on like this. Quite how she got that idea into her head, I do not know.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It certainly did not come from me.”

  “Nor…” he cleared his throat and looked away. They walked in silence for a time. “The thing is, Miss Bennet,” he said, quite abruptly. “It may have been my fault.”

  She stopped and stared at him. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy? It is hardly your fault that your aunt chose to act in this way. You cannot be held accountable for her actions.”

  “Yes, but I can. I have always thought of myself as a discreet man whose innermost thoughts are never apparent unless I choose to make them so. It appears I was mistaken.”

  Elizabeth frowned up at him. “Were you? I hardly think so. In fact, I do not think I have ever heard you more accurately described.”

  “Really?” He turned away looking rather flustered. “Well, yes I suppose I was surprised too. Until I considered it more thoroughly. You see, Miss Bennet, I have lately found myself unable to think of much besides you. It only struck me when I heard news of my aunt’s terrible outburst.”

  Elizabeth Bennet had not often found herself speechless, but now was one of those rare occasions. She stared at him as her mind raced to make sense of his words. What did this mean? Instinct told her she had misheard; that she had simply jumped to conclusions in her haste to believe that he shared her feelings.

  “Mr. Darcy, I do not know… I cannot believe what you are saying. Surely—“

  “Miss Bennet, listen to me. I beg you not to think I am impertinent for saying so. Now that I have realised the extent of my feelings, I can keep them to myself no longer. I admire you; I love you more than I have the words to declare. I cannot think why I have not realised it before.” He stopped and blinked. It was as if he had surprised even himself with his words.

  Elizabeth, of course, was just as surprised. Her breath came in little gasps and she had the strangest sensation of not knowing whether she was going to laugh or cry. It was all so unbelievable!