Just to Hear 'I Love You': An Alternate Tale of Jane Austen's 'Pride & Prejudice'

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Just to Hear 'I Love You': An Alternate Tale of Jane Austen's 'Pride & Prejudice' Page 25

by Sarah Johnson


  When they passed the elegant homes of Mayfair and turned down the prestigious Park Lane, the carriage slowed to await their turn in the long line that had formed. Mary could not help but chuckle at the ridiculous headdresses of some of the ladies as they were helped from their carriages and led inside the stylish home standing six stories above them. She looked back to Fitz who winked at her. It was at times like this that she would swear he could read her mind.

  Soon it was their turn to escape the protection of the comfortable box and join the other revelers who, before them, had already paraded into the home and given their respects to the host and hostess, before fading into the crowded ballroom.

  Mary stood as near to her sister as she could, her hand grasping Elizabeth’s until it was necessary to let go and remove her cloak. She allowed the maid to help her change her traveling shoes and replace them with the soft material of slippers that would not stand up to much more than one night of wear. When she stood to join the others she saw the familiar outstretched arm of her intended and looked lovingly up into his eyes as she smiled and wound her hand around his outstretched arm. She trusted him; completely trusted him. With a peaceful sigh, their eye contact was broken and they followed the Darcys through the line. Both ladies were presented to their hosts, and Lady Beaumont eagerly greeted them both. She leaned over to whisper something to her husband, but Mary did not catch what was said. Then the lady wound Mrs Darcy’s arm through her own and began to walk up the stairs, Darcy following after them just a pace behind. Fitz gave a small nod to their host, then they too joined the others traversing the stairs to the elegant first floor, where they dancing would be held.

  Mary was excited—more so than she ever thought she would be in a situation such as this. She walked through the crowd, stopping when Fitz did, and stood quietly as Elizabeth was introduced with pride. When she was introduced, she did not feel the familiar dread in the pit of her stomach. Instead she curtsied quietly and gracefully, as if she had been accustomed to doing so all her life. As was customary whenever they went somewhere unfamiliar to Mary, Elizabeth answered the queries so Mary would not be required to speak. It was clear Fitz was learning this technique as well, as he often engaged the others in conversation that only required an occasional nod or smile from her. She had a feeling the comfort she felt this evening came mostly from the gentleman who stood by her side, but she too had grown much more at ease with society over the events of the last year and with the help of her dearest friend.

  They made their way through those assembled until Mary felt the familiar thumping in the floorboards that let her know the music was signaling the beginning of the dancing to come. Darcy and Elizabeth excused themselves, leaving Fitz to stand with Mary as they made their way to their places in the lines that formed down the center of the long room.

  Fitz tapped Mary’s arm, and when she looked at him he asked if she would like a drink. She nodded her head and looked back to the activity surrounding them as the dance began. Fitz went to find the refreshments table, bringing back a drink for each of them and the two stood by the fireplace talking of the people around them. Mary pointed out Miss Bingley, and Fitz was surprised to see that her partner for the opening set was his own brother. Hmmm, he thought, how curious? I must warn Bingley about his sister’s reputation if she accepts too much attention from Milton.

  The dancing continued as the hours passed. Elizabeth was the talk of the evening and found herself dancing nearly every set. Luckily she had already reserved the supper set for her husband. The two were quite the sight to see, both excellent in their execution of the necessary steps. What drew the onlookers most though was the love that shone from their eyes as they danced. No one ever expected to see Fitzwilliam Darcy smile with such alacrity, yet his wife seemed to draw it out of him.

  When the set ended the crowds began to descend the stairs once more to the second floor, where supper was to be served. The two found Fitz and Mary already seated at a long line of tables and they sat down across from them. Elizabeth quietly mouthed to Mary asking if she was having a pleasant time, to which Mary gave a smile and a nod. She truly was enjoying herself.

  The white soup was eaten and the dancers’ spirits were bolstered for the final three sets of the evening. Fitz was not required to dance, so he remained by Mary’s side the entire evening, turning them away from any of his family members when he saw them nearby. His goal was to completely avoid them all evening, and so far he had accomplished it with practiced ease.

  With only two dances left, Mary began to grow fatigued. The combination of the lateness of the hour and the ill effects the London air had on her health finally grew too much for her. Not wanting to disturb her sister’s obvious enjoyment, she tried to ignore the growing tightness in her chest. The music began again and she found herself enjoying the moment, though eventually she could not help the yawn that escaped her lips behind a well—placed fan.

  Fitz did not miss it though, and leaned over to ask, “Would you like to rest a bit? Lady Beaumont is my mother’s dearest friend, and as such, I happen to know this house very well. There is a sitting room on the main level that I am certain is empty.”

  Mary nodded, accepting his arm as they made their way through the crowd and down the stairs. When she was seated on the sofa in the small room, Fitz signed, “I will be right back with a drink.” Then he left.

  She looked around the room. It was quite beautiful, though she could never picture a room in her own home looking as elaborately decorated as this one was. Lady Beaumont had a particular style that Mary could never fully appreciate. Seeing a vase of dried flowers on the table by the window, she stood and walked over. Her fingers naturally rose to touch the hard buds. She closed her eyes to draw in their sweet fragrance.

  Suddenly, she felt that someone was behind her. She expected to see Fitz, but when she turned she saw another familiar face instead—his brother, Viscount Milton. Mary froze, not certain what she should do.

  Milton was well into his cups and could hardly stand straight when he saw Fitz go down the stairs with Mrs Darcy’s sister on his arm. He was curious where they were going, so Milton excused himself from the lady who was clinging to his arm. When he saw his brother once again ascend the stairs, this time alone, he quietly went down to the main floor and began to look for the lovely brunette who was obviously left alone. When he opened the sitting room door, he saw her standing over a vase of flowers next to the window, her eyes closed as she drew in their sweet fragrance. Closing the door quietly, he stepped closer to her and spoke, “My, my, what have we here?”

  At that moment, Mary turned around.

  Milton leered at her and took another step closer, “Now why would my brother be in here all alone with you?”

  Mary read his lips, but she did not say anything in return.

  He continued to ease closer to her. “I have not had the pleasure of being introduced to you, though it has not been from lack of trying on my part. I must say, you and your sister do make quite the impression. You are both lovely.” His eyes raked over her figure as the slurred words were formed.

  She felt sick to her stomach and thought of the warning Fitz had given her many months before about this man. ‘My brother is a known profligate and gambler, with a long line of mistresses and ruined ladies in his wake. If you are ever in a room with him, please do me a favor and leave immediately. I would not have you hurt because of him.’ She stepped around him to leave the room but Milton’s hand grabbed her arm forcefully enough to make her wince in pain and turn toward him, her back now to the door.

  “What is wrong? Did my brother warn you not to be caught in a room alone with me?” He saw the answer in her eyes and laughed. “I thought so. Well let me tell you something—no one can stop me when I want something, not even my brother.”

  The next instant Mary felt the viscount’s hand release her arm as his body fell to the floor with such force that she could feel the boards move under her feet. She turned and saw Fit
z standing there with his hand in a fist. He immediately grabbed her hand to lead her out of the room, “Come, it is time we leave.”

  They found Darcy, and Fitz leaned into his cousin’s ear and whispered, “We must leave.”

  “Why? What is wrong?”

  “Mary just needed to rest for a minute so I led her to the lower sitting room, then left to get her a drink. When I returned I found... that is... Milton—he tried to...” he could not say the words, but his eyes turned to Mary.

  Anger immediately rose on Darcy’s face, “We will meet you in the cloak room.” When Fitz walked away with Mary, Darcy turned to retrieve his wife, once again at the side of Lady Beaumont. He gave his regrets that they must leave before the final set, then led Elizabeth away, explaining quietly to her what had taken place. They descended the stairs and Elizabeth turned towards the cloak room. “I will be right behind you,” he said, continuing on down the hall.

  When Elizabeth saw her sister sitting on the fainting couch, distress clearly visible on her features, she sat beside her and drew her arms around her shoulders in a loving embrace.

  “Where is Darcy?” Fitz asked.

  “He said he would be right behind me.”

  Fitz knew that could not be good, so he excused himself, though he doubted the two heard him or noticed him leave the room. He quickly walked down the hall towards the sitting room where he had left Milton. He heard shouts from within and knew what he would find when he opened the door. What surprised him was that it was not just Darcy and Milton, but his own parents in there as well.

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy, you let go of him this instant!” Lady Danver pulled on her nephew’s arm in vain.

  Darcy did not even flinch at her order as he held tight to his eldest cousin’s cravat and jacket. “I will only ask you once more Milton—WHAT did you do to her?”

  The earl stepped up, “Boys, I will not allow a scene here in the middle of my friend’s ball.”

  Darcy turned to his uncle, “I am no longer a boy and do not need to be addressed as such by anyone, even you. Mary is my wife’s sister and she is under my protection. As such I have a right to know what he did to her.”

  Fitz stepped up to stand beside Darcy and stared at his brother. Milton’s eyes grew glassy with fear when he saw the look on both of their faces. “I didn’t mean it,” he began to stammer, “I was just having some fun.”

  Fitz leaned closer as his voice rung out, “If you EVER touch her again, you will not live to see another day!”

  Lady Danver placed her hand on her youngest son’s arm, “Now, Richard, that is not necessary. Your brother did nothing wrong. She should have never even been here tonight.”

  “She was invited by Lady Beaumont and has every right to be here.”

  She took on an air of superiority, “We both know she was invited only because it would be rude of my friend to specifically leave her out of the invitation, but we all know just where someone such as she belongs.”

  The earl echoed his wife’s sentiment, “Darcy might allow her into his home, but she will never be allowed in mine. The Fitzwilliam name will not be sullied by her ilk.”

  Fitz felt the furry rising even higher with every word his parents uttered. “I went to visit you this morning to apprise you of some news, and as it happens, I was unable to discuss it with you because of your other caller. However, I feel it is best that you know now. I have resigned my commission and will soon be married. We were thinking of a ceremony with our families in attendance around us, but I now wonder if perhaps it would be best if we marry quietly and leave Town for good.”

  Lady Danver spoke again, “Well, I must say, I am a bit shocked, but I see no reason to leave Town so abruptly. You must bring your intended by to see me. I will be available to you tomorrow.”

  “You have made it clear that she is not welcome in your home,” he said as he looked at his father, “and I take that personally.”

  Lady Danver was incensed with the shocking news. “WHAT? You are engaged to... to... THAT HALF—WIT? No! Absolutely not; I will not have you shame our family further than what Darcy has already done by such a connection!”

  The earl spoke “You cannot be serious! I have already found a bride for you and her father and I have been discussing the details of a spring ceremony at our estate in Worcestershire. She comes with a sizable dowry and a small estate.”

  “A bride for me?” He scoffed, “I doubt you care so much for my happiness. No, I will not marry the daughter of one of your associates just so they will promise to forgive a debt you owe them.” At his father’s surprised expression, he looked at both of his parents and continued, “I see I had it right. Let me make myself very clear right now. I will marry who I choose and for the reasons I choose, without regard to you or your wishes. If you need to pawn someone off on one of your sons, try doing so to Milton here,” Fitz took his brother from Darcy’s grip and shoved him towards his father. “At least that would be fair in some way; after all, it is this thatch—gallows’ gambling and profligate ways that have put Croome Court in such a state as to need such a large increase of funds.”

  “Richard! How could you say something so crass about your brother,” Lady Danver helped Milton stand and lovingly patted his hand.

  “Oh, who is offended at insults now? Am I not to respond when you called my intended a half—wit? She is anything but, and to say such about her says more about you. At least in my brother’s case, he has worked hard to earn such a reputation.” He pointed his finger at his brother and growled, “DO NOT come near her again!”

  Fitz immediately turned and stomped out of the room, followed directly by Darcy. They located the ladies and left for Darcy House before any of the others in the room were composed enough to join the ball again.

  The carriage ride was quiet and Elizabeth sat beside her sister, their hands clutched tightly together. When they arrived at home, she excused them both and went upstairs to retire. Elizabeth left Mary with her maid and went to her own room to dress for bed. When she was ready, she made her way back to her sister’s room and found Mary sitting alone on the bed, just staring at nothing in particular as she brushed her long hair.

  “Here, let me help you,” she signed. She took the brush from Mary’s hands and pulled the coverlet back, helping her sister get settled. Elizabeth climbed onto the bed herself and positioned a pillow behind her back as she leaned against the headboard. She pulled Mary’s head to her lap and ran her fingers through her sister’s dark curls, slowly feeling the tension leave Mary’s body.

  Fitz and Darcy sat silently in Darcy’s study, both trying to forget the events that brought an abrupt end to their evening. Fitz was very much in his cups when Darcy called for his man to help him upstairs. He was sure his cousin would sleep the night away, but he did not envy him the headache he would wake with on the morrow.

  When Darcy went to find his wife, he discovered the two sisters curled up together. Both were asleep, their arms entwined as they held tightly to one another, Elizabeth’s other hand gently laying on her expanding stomach in a protective manner. He smiled and reached his hand out, laying it on top of hers for just a minute. Then he released her fingers and pulled the counterpane higher and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, leaving the two to sleep soundly as he retired alone.

  Fitz did wake to a pounding headache, and when the grogginess cleared a little he remembered why he drank so much last night. He took care of his needs and called for something to sooth his head. Darcy’s housekeeper sent her vile concoction of tea with some unknown ingredient, and though Fitz could hardly stand the smell, he swallowed the tepid tea. The taste lingered. He eventually started to feel the headache ease. He did not care what it was, as long as it helped ease the pounding behind his eyes, he would swallow the swill with gratitude.

  When he lay down again, he found himself growing weary and quickly fell back to sleep. Waking hours later, he felt much better, though he was still not back to his usual self.

  The c
lock on the mantle told him it was well into the day, so he dressed with the intention of apologizing to his intended for sleeping so long. He thought it would be nice to do something together today.

  As he readied himself and allowed his man to shave his face, he thought of what they could do that Mary would enjoy. He had narrowed it down to a ride in the park or a stroll to a book store when he was finally dressed and ready to face the rest of the household.

  He expected to find the other three residents in the sitting room, but he found only his cousin, alone and in his study busily working his way through a large stack of correspondence.

  Darcy glanced at the clock when Fitz came in the door, “I cannot say I have ever seen you sleep away the day like this; it is nearly four o’clock.”

  Fitz sat in the chair opposite Darcy and ran his hand over his still weary eyes, “I must have had quite the number of drinks last night as I do not remember much beyond coming back to Darcy House.”

  “Yes, you did your best to empty my supply.”

  “I thought my head would explode before I drank that vile tea your housekeeper sent up. I do not know what she puts in it, but I am ever grateful for that foul stuff.”

  “For years you have teased me for drinking her concoction every night, but I see you are finally starting to see its benefits,” Darcy replied with a smirk.

  Fitz sighed heavily, “Yes, though I still say it is revolting.”

  Darcy shrugged and went back to writing, “One gets used to it when the benefits are so numerous.”

  “So where are the ladies? Do not tell me they have gone shopping?”

 

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