by Sophia King
Elizabeth clicked her tongue in irritation. She could stand there arguing with him, or she could allow him to walk her to her chamber and be rid of him in only a few minutes. She nodded begrudgingly.
Mr Darcy was silent by her side as they walked towards Elizabeth’s room. Elizabeth peeked up at him. She had never seen him so informally attired before. He wore only a shirt and trousers, his shirt opened at the neck. His sleeves were rolled up and in the flickering candlelight, she could see how powerful his forearms were. It spoke of an active man who liked to be out doing things. Not a pampered dandy who spent hours in front of a mirror, preening and pampering himself like Beau Brummell. While Elizabeth did not like to admit to anything positive about Mr Darcy’s nature, her own honest character forced her to admit that there was something to admire in a man who was not afraid of hard physical work.
She cleared her throat. “This is mine,” she said when they arrived at her door. Mr Darcy paused and looked up at it. For a horrified moment, Elizabeth wondered if he was going to ask to accompany her inside. If he thought as lowly of her as he did, he would probably not hesitate to insult her in such a manner. “Good night, Mr Darcy,” she said firmly.
“Miss Bennet,” said Darcy. “Forgive me, but I must say something to you.”
“Mr Darcy, it is late,” Elizabeth protested.
“I know. It shall not take long. I do not know what you heard in the garden this morning—”
“It was quite enough,” Elizabeth replied tartly.
Mr Darcy sighed and closed his eyes. “I had hoped you did not,” he said when he opened them again. “I would not wish to hurt you. It was abominably rude and indiscreet of me to discuss such a matter. I hope you can forgive me?”
Forgive him? Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. He didn’t even deny that he meant every word. He was not sorry for what he had said. He was merely sorry she had overheard him. How could she forgive him for that?
“You spoke as you found,” said Elizabeth. She turned her door handle and was about to slip inside, when she heard the sound of a door opening down the hall. She looked up, her heart pounding. Darcy whirled around, as alert as an animal. It was Miss Bingley’s door. Without thinking about what she was doing, Elizabeth grabbed Darcy’s hand and pulled him into her room, shutting the door with a soft click.
The two stood listening at the door as they heard Miss Bingley walk past on slippered feet. Elizabeth was afraid to breath. Why on earth had she pulled Mr Darcy in here? She would have been compromised if they had been seen together at night, but it was nothing to what would happen to her reputation if it was discovered that she had brought Darcy into her chamber.
“I think she is gone,” said the deep voice above her head. Elizabeth looked up. Darcy leaned over her, listening intently for noises outside. She could feel the heat of his body through the loose material of his shirt. She swallowed as a new feeling replaced the nerves she felt.
“Are you sure?” she whispered back.
Darcy listened for a moment longer. “I am quite sure,” he said. “You now have something else to forgive me for. I should not have stopped you at night. I would not have any harm come to your reputation.”
“Thank you,” said Elizabeth. Of course he would not allow any harm to come to her reputation. Doing so would obligate him to marry her, and a Mr Darcy of Pemberley was not about to sully himself by a forming an alliance with a woman who was connected with trade. It was as much in his interest as hers that she not be compromised.
Without saying another word to her, Darcy opened the door and slipped out. Elizabeth listened for a moment, afraid she was about to hear Miss Bingley’s scandalised shriek. There was nothing. She sighed with relief. Thank God. She could think of few fates worse than being obliged to marry that man.
Darcy listened for Miss Bingley as he returned to his own chamber. He did not wish her to see him. Perhaps it was vanity, but he would not have put it past her to rouse the servants so they would be discovered together. Darcy had known Miss Bingleys all over the kingdom since he had first come of age. He knew the signs from a mile away now. It was unfortunate that the sister of his closest friend should prove to be a husband-hunter. If she had been a pleasant lady, he would not have been averse to the idea of being allied with Mr Bingley and joining their two families together. He had often played with the idea of Mr Bingley marrying his own sister Georgiana when she was older, although there had never been anything but warm friendship between the two. Although the Bingley’s came from trade, they had enough wealth to lessen the evils normally expected of such a connection.
But he would not marry Caroline Bingley for all the land in the kingdom. If she was a more agreeable lady, he might have considered it. If her eyes sparkled with life and mischievous, if her conversation was lively and her intelligence keen, he might have considered her as a bride. If she were a lady like Miss Elizabeth Bennet…
He shook his head. He would have to be careful there. He was drawn to Elizabeth more than he liked. She had bewitched him, and Darcy had never been in such a situation before. He had always been able to forget ladies quite easily. His harsh words to Miss Bingley were as much to convince himself of the unsuitability of their match as it was to stop Caroline from joking about their supposed marriage. He had to do right by his family, and keep Miss Elizabeth’s unsuitability firmly in mind. He only wished she had not heard him. He did not want to hurt the lady’s feelings.
He returned to his own room without incident. He was still unable to sleep, and the memory of Elizabeth’s nearness had not helped. He wondered if she was aware of how heavily his heart pounded when she pulled him into her room. For a moment, he thought she was attempting to force him to compromise her. His father had warned him of the possibility, and as such, Darcy had always made sure his conduct towards ladies was above reproach. He would not make it possible for any lady to accuse him of encouraging her.
And yet when Elizabeth pulled him into her room, he had not known whether his feelings were of horror or excitement. He shook his head. The sooner she left, the better. She was a danger to his peace of mind, and he did not like how much she appealed to him. It made him feel out of control, and Darcy prided himself on his self-command.
He threw himself into a chair and looked out over the parkland. The first streaks of pink were brightening the sky. He would be exhausted in the morning after a night of no sleep.
He tapped a finger against his lip as he considered the other unsettling fact. Bingley’s attraction for Jane Bennet. How serious was it? Darcy had been friends with Charles since their days at Cambridge and he knew his friend to be a soft-hearted romantic who lost his heart to yet another pretty girl every season. Charles had not been brought up with the same instruction that Darcy had received about avoiding the advances of ambitious young ladies. It was one of the reasons Darcy felt obliged to take good care of him. Charles would have to watch his feelings towards Miss Bennet or he could find himself being trussed into a wedding suit and marched up the aisle before he knew what he was about.
As to the lady herself, he had less concerns. She received his attentions with pleasure. Any lady would be flattered by the attentions of a man like Bingley, especially one as well-liked and popular. But Darcy had not detected any regard beyond that. He did not think her heart was very invested.
No. Darcy was satisfied. Caroline might fret, but from what he had observed so far, there was nothing for anyone to worry about. If Charles seemed like he was about to make an offer of marriage, Darcy was confident he could make him see sense. By next season, Charles would have fallen in love with another young woman and the Bennets would be forgotten.
And as to his own attraction towards Elizabeth, he would master it. He would simply keep his distance before he returned to London. It should not be so very difficult after all.
Chapter 5
“You are tired, sir,” called Miss Bingley brightly across the dinner table. Mr Darcy had been attempting to hide a yawn,
and he stopped abruptly.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I have not been sleeping well.”
“I hope everything is to your liking?” she said, her eyes wide with concern. “I can arrange another room for you if you do not find your present one comfortable enough.”
Darcy raised a hand to stop her before she could order his belongings carted from one end of the house to the other.
“I am perfectly comfortable where I am, thank you. It is merely some matter of business. It will be resolved soon but until it is, it requires much of my attention.”
Caroline tilted her head. “You work too hard,” she cooed in a soothing voice.
Elizabeth watched the absurd exchange, her eyes bright with amusement. She caught Jane’s eye and grinned. Miss Bingley would not be happy until she was Mrs Darcy. Mr Darcy for his part had no interest in her, and barely treated her with anything more than the same general contempt he held for everyone. If she was not the sister of his friend, he would have no time for her.
Once Elizabeth had recovered from the shock of almost being caught with Mr Darcy the previous night, she was curious to know what Miss Bingley would have done. Would she have attempted to destroy Elizabeth’s reputation by accusing her of trying to compromise Mr Darcy? Or would she have kept it a secret for fear that Mr Darcy would be obliged to make Elizabeth his bride? It would have been interesting to see, but Elizabeth’s curiosity was not so strong that she wished to find out.
“Darcy does work too hard,” said Bingley cheerfully. “He always did. Always the first one with his work done at university. I have never known a chap to take his responsibilities so seriously. It is why I try to emulate him.”
“I hope you will not try to emulate him too much, Mr Bingley,” said Elizabeth. “Attentiveness towards one’s duties is all very well, but it is possible to be too serious and to lose the ability to laugh at one’s self.”
“Do you suggest I do not have that ability, Miss Elizabeth?” asked Darcy. He forgot about his meal as he watched her with interest.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I do not pretend to know you as well as some others,” she said. “But it is my delight to observe human nature, and I confess that yours intrigues me. I do not believe you could laugh at yourself, no. Am I wrong?”
Bingley burst out laughing before Darcy could reply.
“She’s got you there, Darcy,” he said. He turned to the Bennet sisters. “Darcy is a fine man,” he said. “But if he has a flaw, it is that he takes himself too seriously.”
“And what of judgment?” asked Elizabeth. “Do you judge others, Mr Darcy? Do you see them as beneath you without learning of their characters?”
“Do you?” asked Mr Darcy pointedly.
Elizabeth was momentarily confused. “No, I do not believe so,” she said. “I trust that I judge others based on their own words and actions.”
“Well, perhaps you should not be so quick to do so,” Darcy suggested. The rest of the table looked between the two of them in fascination. “Perhaps you hear one brief snippet, but do not understand the underlying intention behind their words. You do not dig deeper to see if there is a context you might have missed.”
“I am satisfied that I understand perfectly,” said Elizabeth. She was about to add “Even if I do have family who work in trade and live in Cheapside,” but refrained from it at the last moment. If they had been alone together, she might have done so, but she did not wish to embarrass Jane and Bingley by having an open argument with Darcy. If she kept going, she knew that was exactly what it would end up becoming.
She was saved from an unlikely source.
“Let us have some music,” said Miss Bingley, firmly. She still did not know if Elizabeth had overheard her and Darcy yesterday, but she did not like where the conversation was going. She stood up, and the men all rose to their feet, scraping their chairs back. Bingley looked a little dazed by all that was happening. “I believe we are all finished eating,” she declared. “I will open the pianoforte. I hope Miss Eliza will join me for a tune.”
Elizabeth was so surprised by the offer that for a moment, she did not know what to say. “I do not pretend to any great talent,” she said. “And that is not false modesty. I will play a little.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. A footman came into the room and bowed.
“I have a note for the Miss Bennets,” he declared. Elizabeth took it from him, and Jane came to her side to read it with her.
“It is from Father,” she exclaimed. She hoped the relief was not too plain in her voice. “I sent him a note this morning and advised him that Jane was much better. He is sending the carriage for us tomorrow morning to take us home.”
“Oh,” said Bingley. No-one could have mistaken the disappointment in his voice. “Are you sure that is wise? I do not believe Miss Bennet is recovered enough for the journey. Perhaps it would be better if she stayed another few days, just to be sure?”
“I am sure the Miss Bennets are anxious to be with their family, Charles,” said Darcy. “And it will be a comfort for Miss Bennet to be among her own set. You will not deprive her of that, surely?”
“I am so grateful to you, Mr Bingley,” said Jane. Her face was shy as she looked at him. “You have been so good to me and I cannot thank you enough. But I own, I would like to be with my family again.”
Mr Bingley relented at once. Elizabeth was pleased to see how pained he looked at the prospect of separation. If this was not a young man in love, she knew nothing of other people.
“Yes, of course you would,” he agreed. “It was thoughtless of me to wish to keep you here. But I will be happy to escort you home in one of our own carriages. Your father does not need to send his.”
“That is very good of you, Mr Bingley,” said Elizabeth. “But my father will already have it arranged to be prepared. I believe Smith had taken it apart to clean it, and will have put it back together especially for our journey.”
Bingley nodded. His face brightened. “Well, the parting will not be for very long,” he declared. He drew himself up proudly as the rest of the room looked at him in curiosity.
“What on earth do you mean, Charles?” Caroline barked. She was evidently imagining he was about to declare a wedding.
“The ball, of course.”
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged smiles. Bingley took Jane’s hand and pulled her into a gentle twirl as she cried out in surprise.
“You did not think I’d forgotten the ball, did you? I promised your sister Lydia I would have it when you had recovered. You may tell her I have kept my promise.”
“That’s enough, Charles,” said Caroline. Her tone was so harsh that even her sister Louisa looked at her in surprise. She quickly amended her tone. “You forget, Miss Bennet is only just recovering,” she said in a gentler voice. “You must not upset her.”
“I have not upset,” said Jane. “I will be delighted to attend your ball, Mr Bingley.”
He brought her to a gentle stop. “And I hope you will dance with me over the course of the evening?” he asked in a low voice.
“I will.”
Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy and Miss Bingley to see how they took this exchange. Mr Darcy’s face was as grim and serious as always. It was sometimes impossible to know how he really felt. Miss Bingley was looking at Mrs Hurst and both of them shook their heads slightly. Elizabeth felt a stab of unease. She could only hope Mr Bingley was not so eager to please that he would allow his sisters to come between him and the lady he loved.
“Music,” Caroline repeated abruptly. “Charles, put Miss Bennet down.”
“I believe we shall practice for the ball,” said Bingley. “What do you say, Miss Bennet? If my sister plays for us, will you dance with me?”
Jane could not refuse. Neither could Miss Bingley. She had been so insistent on playing the pianoforte that it would have looked peculiar and mean-spirited of her to suddenly change her mind. Her mouth twisted as she left the room to open the piano.
Miss Bingley’s accomplished performance filled the parlour as Jane and Mr Bingley danced up and down the length of the room. They had moved the carpets and some of the chairs back to make space. Mrs Hurst had been too caught up in the excitement to appease her sister and she had soon demanded her husband join her to make up a second couple. He protested at her condition, but Mrs Hurst would not be refused. Elizabeth clapped and laughed with the music as the couples danced up and down the room. She smiled to see Jane’s pleasure, while she hugged herself with delight at the knowledge that by the same time tomorrow, she would once again be home and free of the machinations of Darcy and Miss Bingley.
She saw Darcy move in her direction. At once, she stopped clapping and quickly picked up a volume of poetry which had been discarded by Miss Bingley earlier. Pretending to be deeply engrossed, she hoped Mr Darcy would pass her by.
She was not so fortunate.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said. She raised her eyes reluctantly. To her astonishment, he held out his hand. “Will you join me? I am sure you and I could make the best pair out of the three.”
Elizabeth gave him a quick smile and returned to her book. For a confused moment, Darcy wondered if she had not heard him. He repeated the question.
“Oh, I heard you the first time,” she said. “But as I know for a fact that you do not like to dance, I must suppose that you wish me to oblige you so you can laugh at me. So I would rather thwart your desires. Despise me for it if you dare.” She added a playful smile to take some of the sting out of her rejection.
“I would never despise you,” said Darcy.
Elizabeth was surprised at his gallantry. She placed the book back on the side table and dropped a curtsey. A walk in the cool evening air would do her good. And it would provide a welcome relief from the confusion of Mr Darcy’s behaviour towards her.