Chance Encounters

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Chance Encounters Page 14

by Linda Wells


  Looking at his shoes he spoke softly, “Yes.”

  “Mr. Darcy.” He lifted his eyes and shyly looked into hers. She entwined her fingers with his for a moment, and gently grasped his hand. “I promise you, there is nothing to fear.”

  “You must think me such a silly fool.”

  “As long as you are my fool, I do not mind.” She smiled, squeezing his hand harder this time, and let go.

  With Bingley dancing the next with Elizabeth, Darcy was free to relax and concentrate on watching Alex with Jane. His friend’s behaviour with her was entirely different. There were no arguments or cunning smiles; he seemed everything gentle and solicitous towards her. And, he noted, she was responding. He wondered if she was attracted to him, or if she was just being kind. He could see no difference in her behaviour towards Alex and Bingley. If Bingley were to tell him tonight that he intended to propose, he would have to advise him to wait.

  Darcy’s were not the only eyes watching Jane and Alex dance. “Philip, what was the name of that girl who is dancing with Alex?” Amanda Carrington asked.

  “Ben-something, Benning, no, that is not it. . .”

  “Bennet!” Amanda looked at her husband, her eyes wide. “And the other girl, the one who came with Mr. Darcy, she is her sister.” Their eyes met. “Is it possible . . .?” Turning, Amanda nervously addressed Darcy.

  “Mr. Darcy.” He tore his eyes from Elizabeth and looked down at Amanda. “The young lady dancing with Alex, is her name Bennet?”

  “Yes, madam, Jane Bennet. My friend Bingley is dancing with her younger sister, Elizabeth.”

  Amanda took a breath. “I am familiar with the name. I wonder if these ladies are related. Where are they from?”

  “Hertfordshire. Their father’s estate, Longbourn, is located near the village of Meryton. Is this the same family?”

  Ignoring the question, Amanda turned to look at her husband, who wore a similar stunned expression. “Philip?”

  He came to his senses and looked at his wife then met Darcy’s concerned gaze. “Am I correct in my suspicions that you are quite close to Miss Elizabeth?”

  “We are very good friends.” He said carefully. “Why do you ask?”

  Seeing Darcy’s concern, he moved quickly to reassure him. “Sir, please, I am not concerned with Miss Elizabeth or Miss Bennet’s character or behaviour. They are lovely young ladies.”

  Darcy relaxed, “I never doubted either lady sir, but I cannot help but wonder at your questions.”

  “Mr. Darcy, this is not the proper setting for this conversation, and I would appreciate your advice. May I call on you tomorrow?”

  “Mr. Carrington, I will be happy to help you with advice, however, Miss Elizabeth will be leaving town on Saturday, and I intend to spend as much time with her as possible before she departs. I will be happy to meet with you on Monday morning. Is eleven o’clock acceptable?”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I thank you. Please be assured there is nothing wrong with your or Mr. Bingley’s relationship to either lady. Their presence simply made me realize my need for advice.”

  “Thank you for your reassurance, sir. I look forward to understanding this mystery on Monday.” The gentleman bowed, and Darcy quickly moved to reclaim Elizabeth from Bingley before her next partner arrived.

  Finally the supper dance began and Darcy had Elizabeth back. This time they laughed through the time together, both able to relax in each other’s company, unlike how they had to behave when others were about. The four of them found seats together in the supper room, and were enjoying their meals when Caroline reappeared. She had been waiting for Darcy to ask her to dance. He had no such intention. He, at Bingley’s urging, had spoken to Alex, and asked him how Caroline came to be invited. Alex looked at him with surprise, and said that she had sent a note, saying that as dear friends of himself and sister to another invited guest, Bingley, she asked that they be included. He said that he assumed it was with Darcy’s approval. Darcy was infuriated. He had been letting the behaviour go for years, but now it was time to put a stop to it. He would let it quietly be known that Caroline Bingley was not to be invited to events based on her connection to the Darcy name. He would speak to Bingley about it privately.

  Elizabeth and Jane were both asked to dance several more times during the evening, and each time, Darcy and Bingley stood guard at the edge of the dance floor, staring at their partners. Bingley was obligated to dance with each of his sisters, but Darcy steadfastly refused, no matter how many times Caroline sighed or stood close by him. She tried to strike up a conversation with him, criticizing Elizabeth’s appearance, and asking him probing questions about her background. Darcy was happy to know that Caroline had been entirely unsuccessful in finding anything out about Elizabeth and Jane. He knew that she visited Georgiana during the week, and had asked pointedly about the ladies who attended the theatre with their brother, but Georgiana was able, with her newfound confidence, to withstand the onslaught and say that who Darcy associates with was none of her business. He was very pleased with her.

  Finally the time for the final set arrived, and it was the new and very scandalous waltz. Darcy decided that he would risk the gossip and led Elizabeth out onto the floor.

  “But sir, I have no idea what the steps are to this dance!” Elizabeth protested.

  “I do, and that is all that matters. The gentleman leads. All you have to do is follow me. I am sure that you will have it down very quickly.” He smiled encouragingly at her.

  “How do you know it so well? I thought that you dislike dancing?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Georgiana has a dance master. I was her partner. Sooner or later this will replace all of the quadrilles and country dances. She was taught it in anticipation of her coming out next year.”

  “Very well, but if I trip, I will place the blame entirely on you.”

  “If you trip, Miss Elizabeth, it will be my supreme pleasure to catch you.” He smiled warmly into her worried eyes.

  He told her how to place her hand on his shoulder, and he gently placed his on her waist. They both blushed with the intimate contact. He held her other hand in his, and with the beginning of the music, he showed her how to sway, and then took his first steps with her. He was correct, it was easy. She just followed him and soon she could move without thinking. It was glorious to be held so securely. The room spun by, and she was caught in his unyielding gaze. They both wished that it would never end, and were greatly disappointed when the music stopped and they were forced to part. Jane ran over to Elizabeth and told her how beautiful she looked, spinning around the room with her skirts floating around her. Bingley shook Darcy’s hand and asked if he might have a private lesson with Georgiana’s dance master when he next visited.

  AFTER THE VERY late evening at the ball, Elizabeth had no expectation of seeing Darcy before the afternoon. She spent her time after rising packing her things for Kent, and gossiping with Jane and Aunt Gardiner. She asked Jane if she would be willing to help her communicate with Darcy while she was away by forwarding letters between them. Jane was not happy about being party to such a breach in propriety, but decided that it was fairly obvious they would likely be engaged soon, and at that time, such letters would be allowed. It was on that theory that she agreed to help. They agreed to enlist Mr. Bingley’s aid as well, as either delivering Elizabeth’s letters to Darcy, or bringing his letters to Jane. In that way, no servants would be involved.

  The gentlemen arrived in the afternoon and were invited to stay for dinner. While taking a last walk in the park, Elizabeth told Darcy of their letter writing plans, and he enthusiastically approved it. When Bingley and Jane later met with them, he expressed his happiness to help with the scheme. During their walk, Darcy told Elizabeth how much he had enjoyed the ball with her, how wonderful it was to dance with her, and how much he had treasured the last three weeks. He wanted to tell her everything that was in his heart, but he knew that it would have to wait until he arrived in Kent. They spoke o
f so many things, trying to get in all of their conversation for the time that they would be parted, because even with communication by letters, it just would not be the same. When they returned to the house, Darcy held back in a corner of the entrance hall, and taking Elizabeth’s ungloved hands in his, kissed them tenderly. They both wanted so much more.

  Saturday morning Darcy arrived alone and early. He knew that he did not have a great amount of time or opportunity, and he shyly pulled a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets out of his pocket. He had marked one that he said reminded him of her. When she opened the book to see the 17th sonnet, she saw that a letter was holding the place. She quickly closed the book and blushing, placed it in the bag she would keep in the carriage with her. At the same time she covertly drew out a letter that she had prepared for him, which he kissed before slipping into his coat. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, stroke her hair, and bury his face against her throat. She was desperate to lay her head on his chest and catch the sound of his heart beating, and feel his arms close around her. When it was finally time to part, he kissed her hands, touched her cheek, and with brightened eyes, turned his back on her and left. She watched as his carriage pulled away, and ran upstairs to cry.

  An hour later the coach bearing Sir William Lucas and his daughter Maria arrived, and after a short repast, the three travellers were on their way. Elizabeth did not know that Darcy had returned on horseback and stood in the park across the street, watching until she pulled away.

  Chapter 10

  “Eliza!” Charlotte ran to greet the carriage as it pulled in front of Hunsford Parsonage, bypassing her father and sister.

  Mr. Collins stood bobbing and wheezing, “Welcome to our humble abode!” He bowed to his father-in-law, acknowledged his sister, and made pointed remarks about the quality of his home to Elizabeth, not too subtly reminding her that all this could have been hers.

  The guests settled into their rooms. Elizabeth duly admired the shelves in the closet of her bedchamber, and agreed wholeheartedly with Mr. Collins that it was a stroke of brilliance for Lady Catherine to suggest them while casting expressive eyes to Charlotte, who rolled hers. While Mr. Collins showed Sir William and Maria his gardens, Charlotte pulled Elizabeth into her private sitting room for a chat. She was dying to talk to her friend again.

  “Oh Eliza, how I have missed you!” Charlotte took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Now, tell me everything. You have been in London for some weeks. What have you done?”

  Elizabeth smiled at the friend she thought that she had lost forever. She had been so angry with her for accepting Mr. Collins’ offer and settling for a marriage of convenience. Over time, she realized that it was exactly the kind of marriage that Charlotte wanted and let her disappointment go.

  “So much has happened, and I truly need to talk about it, but I am sorry to say I have to trust you not to say a word of it to Mr. Collins, or I will be unable to confide in you.”

  “This sounds most serious!”

  “It is. It is the most serious matter.”

  “I am not comfortable keeping secrets from my husband.” She looked sadly at her friend. They had shared so much together over the years, and she truly wanted to help her. “Is there a way that we can talk about it without giving me particulars? If I have no specific details, but just general conversation, I would not feel that I am deceiving him by not talking about something.” She thought again, “And, if he does not ask me a specific question about a subject, I would not be deceiving him by not answering it entirely correctly either, would I?”

  Elizabeth knew that Charlotte was trying to work out a way in her mind that she could still be her best friend. “Very well, I will talk, and if you think that I am giving you too much detail, you must tell me and I shall stop. But you must agree this goes no further than the two of us.”

  “Yes, I can abide by those conditions.”

  Taking a breath, Elizabeth told Charlotte that she met a gentleman, and that she had entered a courtship with him. She said that she seems to have the approval of his family and that she is hoping to meet another member and gain her approval as well, although the gentleman has his doubts of success.

  “Why this is wonderful news! Why have I heard nothing of it? Surely your mother would have told mine, and she would write to me about it?”

  “My mother does not know. I wrote to Jane to come to London, and help me during this time. Papa brought her and wished to meet him. Mr. . . . my friend invited all of us to dinner at his home, where we met his family. That night he asked Papa for his consent for our courtship and Papa accused him of terrible things. It was only after my friend refuted everything that Papa said that he finally agreed to the courtship. Papa spoke of changing his mind the next day, but my uncle talked him out of it.”

  Charlotte was shocked. “Is there something bad about this man, Eliza?”

  “No! He is the best of men! He is kind, and generous, and intelligent, and has his own estate, and is so very, very lonely. I have made it my mission to make him smile.” Elizabeth looked at her friend through teary eyes.

  “But why does your father object to him so?” Charlotte asked, concerned.

  “My friend thinks that he is reluctant to let me marry anyone at all, that he looks at me as his companion and expects me to stay at Longbourn.” Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. “And, he thinks that Papa might be jealous that I would make a love match and be given all of the opportunities to experience the world that he never could.”

  “I do not know your young man, but he certainly has a point about your father not being willing to let you go. He is exceptionally close to you, and always seemed happier with you than with anyone else I have ever seen, including your mother and other men. Although I suspect that if a gentleman in Meryton offered for you, he would not object so strongly. As for jealousy with a love match, I honestly never thought that your father cared for such things, he seems, forgive me, too caught up with his own affairs to care about anyone else other than his own comforts. I wonder if he is capable of a love match.” She saw Elizabeth’s pensive expression. “I do, however agree that there may be some jealousy over your opportunities, particularly if it exposes you to things that you know he appreciates, books, conversation, challenges to the mind. Would your friend be able to provide such things for you?”

  “Yes, he most definitely would; in fact, he already has, in a way.” Elizabeth spoke softly, Charlotte had stated things that she knew were true, but had been unwilling to face.

  “I take it that your friend is well-off?” She asked carefully.

  “Yes, he is of the first circles.”

  “And you think that he loves you, despite the differences in your stations, your lack of dowry and wealth?”

  Elizabeth spoke defiantly. “He has not spoken the word ‘love’ to me yet, but then we only met three weeks ago. If he had said it already, I would have mistrusted him. But yes, he has stated that he does not care for my rank or wealth. He wants to be wanted for himself, and that is how he feels about his future wife.”

  “Then what is the problem? You will be with a man who apparently cares deeply for you, even if he has not said the words yet. I imagine that they will come in time. And truly, we were meant to leave our families’ homes and go out into the world. It is wrong of your father to want to selfishly keep you at home, and deny you your own life. I think that your decision is clear. If this man makes you an offer, and he is what you have hoped for, how could you say no?”

  “I have been thinking the same things, but I needed to hear it confirmed. I have talked to Jane about it, but she is torn between her emotions for me and Papa. I needed to hear your impartial opinion.”

  “I am so glad that you value me in this way, Eliza. If you need to talk about this again, I feel very comfortable keeping this particular confidence between us.”

  Elizabeth retired thankfully to her bedchamber that evening after enduring the unending praises of her cousin to his father-in-law for producing h
is dear Charlotte, and his patroness for providing his living. He promised to introduce all of his guests to her after church in the morning. She admired Charlotte’s fortitude to bear such a man as a husband, but realized that she entered the marriage with full knowledge of what the man was. His personality was unchanged from what she experienced for weeks last autumn. As angry as she was with her father now, she remained grateful that he did not force her to accept Mr. Collins’ proposal.

  Taking a candle and settling in the window seat, she looked out at the moonlit garden and at last examined the precious gift that Mr. Darcy had slipped to her that morning, the book of Shakespeare’s sonnets, and opened to the 17th, the one he marked. If I could write the beauty of your eyes . . . She read it over and over. She thought of his eyes, deep, dark, expressing so many emotions. She had seen sadness, pain and loneliness, and now she was seeing hope, affection, and joy. She thought that she detected love, and something new that she could not name, but it made her feel so . . . oh what is the word? Wanting, needing something. Something only he could give. Desire? Passion? It was all so new. Taking a breath, she stroked the envelope that he gave her, and then broke the seal.

  Dear

  I wish to write your name, but I know that I cannot. You should know that it is constantly running through my mind. I think of your name, and I imagine your eyes, glowing, dancing, and enticing me to become the man that I hardly knew was inside of me. In these short weeks that we have known each other, I have lived a lifetime of emotions. I did not realize how I had cloistered myself from feeling anything, because to feel would make me vulnerable to hurt, and I have been hurt enough that I felt it was better to feel nothing. Now I know better. You have opened up my heart to feelings that I now treasure. I wish to speak of them to you. I wish to tell you my hopes and dreams and share with you my past. I know that you will listen to it all. I have never found anyone before who I can trust myself to, until you smiled on me. You were the greatest gift I could ever wish for.

 

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