Wentworth nodded in Darcy’s direction, a silent challenge, when their eyes met across the theatre. Darcy returned the nod, as they took each other’s measure. For a moment, Darcy wished Elizabeth chose Mr. Wickham, as her gallant, for Darcy knew he could prove a better man, but Wentworth was another matter. Darcy’s discreet inquiries of the man proved the officer both heroic and quite intelligent. Wentworth also reportedly amassed a substantial fortune for his action in battle.
Darcy recognized the captain’s resolve, but his own held steady. He came to Portsmouth to reclaim his bride to be. If anything, Wentworth’s attentions confirmed the necessity to whisk Elizabeth from the man’s grasp and return her to Hertfordshire. Darcy held no doubt Mr. Bennet would soon learn something of his wayward daughter’s choices. If Darcy possessed any hope of witnessing Elizabeth once again at Longbourn before scandal claimed her reputation, it must be soon.
At the intermission, Darcy waited until Wentworth escorted Elizabeth toward the refreshment table before he departed his box to join the small crowd in the theatre front. Casually, he circled the gathered audience, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s profile.
She braced for his approach, and Darcy purposely kept his distance until Wentworth and the unknown officer stepped away.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bryland.”
Although she did not offer it, Darcy caught Elizabeth’s hand to bring the back of it to his lips. He permitted his warm breath to invade the silk gloves she wore.
“You are stunning this evening, Ma’am. I have not viewed you so delightfully attired since we stood up together at the ball at Netherfield,” he said meaningfully.
It did him well to view a flush of color claiming Elizabeth’s cheeks. Even so, she had the presence of mind to give her hand a little tug so Darcy would release her fingers.
He smiled at her maneuver.
“Perhaps I might impose on you to introduce me to your new friends.”
Darcy noted Elizabeth’s resistance, but good manners demanded she acquiesce.
“Mr. Darcy, permit me to give you the acquaintance of Commander Harville and Mrs. Harville.”
“I am pleased Mrs. Bryland discovered those with whom she shares a variety of interests. Life in Portsmouth is more diverting than to what the lady is accustomed in Hertfordshire.”
“I forgot that you mentioned something of Hertfordshire, Ma’am,” Commander Harville remarked. “You appear to enjoy the southern shires.”
Darcy read Elizabeth’s irritation: She did not want her new acquaintances to know of her life before becoming “Mrs. Bryland.”
“I do, Commander, and as for my life in Hertfordshire, it was long ago,“ she said in what sounded of regret.
With a fake smile upon her lips, Elizabeth challenged, “And you, Sir, are well aware Mr. Bingley praised me as a studier of character. I find many things diverting.”
Darcy smiled easily at her quick recovery of her composure. The woman would make him an excellent wife for Elizabeth innately knew when to prompt and when to withdraw: Only once had he viewed her without control of her emotions, and the fault of much of that scene rested on his shoulders.
“Most assuredly, Ma’am. I recall your finding intricate characters most amusing.”
Darcy noted how Mrs. Harville studied their exchange. Perhaps her husband was less astute, but the lady recognized the history between Darcy and Elizabeth.
“Would you not agree, Mrs. Bryland, that there is not the variety of subjects in the country as one might find in the city and townships?” the woman offered with a teasing tone.
“I believe Mr. Darcy once held a similar opinion, and both you and the gentleman express a common thought, but I am of the persuasion that people alter so much over time that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”
“I must take your word for it, Ma’am,” Mrs. Harville said with a bemused smile before turning to Darcy.
“How do find the performance, Mr. Darcy?”
The play was Petruchio and Katherine, a Shakespearean comedic romp.
“I find it most enjoyable, Mrs. Harville,” he said evenly. “What could be more entertaining than a woman with a shrewish tongue? Such is a well worn plot twist, but one which never disappoints.”
From his eye’s corner Darcy noted a lift of Elizabeth’s eyebrow.
“As well read as you are, Mr. Darcy,” his intended said in challenge, “I imagine your repeating the lines with the actors.”
“As you are aware, Mrs. Bryland, I place a value on reading,” he responded.
“Mrs. Bryland shared a tale of an acquaintance enumerating the qualities of an accomplished lady,” Mrs. Harville suggested with a wry twist of her lips.
The woman’s remark proved that Mrs. Harville knew that he and Elizabeth held more than a casual acquaintance.
“Did she?” Darcy said with an equally teasing life in inflection. “I always find Mrs. Bryland’s observations delightfully accurate.”
Mrs. Harville probed deeper.
“Yes, our dearest Elizabeth claims such qualities as a graceful walk, a knowledge of several languages, and a certain air to the lady’s carriage essential.”
“Mrs. Bryland is well aware I hold the belief a lady must add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading. Such is one of the reasons I hold Mrs. Bryland in great consideration.”
Elizabeth could not respond for Wentworth and the other officer returned with lemonade for the ladies.
Wentworth scowled his greeting.
“I did not realize you joined us, Mr. Darcy.”
“I could not pass on the opportunity to speak to dear acquaintances, Captain,” Darcy said with a look of impervious calm.
“Are you in Portsmouth long, Mr. Darcy?” Harville asked.
Darcy was certain the commander recognized the hint of animosity in Darcy’s and Wentworth’s tones. Odd that the officer did not take note of Darcy and Elizabeth’s familiarity: Perhaps it said something about the differences in men and women.
“I come to Portsmouth often for I hold investments in both the shipyards and the import and export business.”
Darcy would not admit he came to the port city to reclaim his bride to be.
Elizabeth said in surprise, “I was unaware of your interests in shipping, Sir.”
Darcy smiled easily at her. Elizabeth Bennet made his heart swell with happiness; even when she was cross with him, Darcy still adored her.
“I have no doubt, Mrs. Bryland. Such is not meant for drawing room conversations. It is not as if I keep my business interests a secret or do not share investment negotiations with my intimates. I would, for example, speak to Bingley or Colonel Fitzwilliam of my interests, and I expect to share the extent of my holdings with my wife if I should marry.”
Again, a blush rushed to Elizabeth’s cheeks. His betrothed knew something of his negotiations for the railroad expansion for his home shire. Elizabeth understood Darcy’s meaning perfectly.
“We should return to our seats,” Wentworth suggested.
Darcy bowed to Elizabeth’s party.
“I apologize for monopolizing your time. I extend my gratitude for your fine company. Being alone in Portsmouth is quite discomforting. Perhaps I could convince you to join me one evening for supper at the Royal Hotel. It would do me well to engage in intelligent conversation. And I would be most interested in the gentlemen’s views on the progress of the war, that is, if the ladies hold no objection to the subject.”
Mrs. Harville glanced to her husband, who nodded his agreement.
“We would consider it an honor, Mr. Darcy,” the commander accepted the invitation.
“Shall we say tomorrow evening at seven?” Darcy pressed
He had no intention of waiting four and twenty hours to see Elizabeth again, but the supper invitation would divert her anxiousness.
“Agreed, Sir,” Harville continued as the group’s spokesman.
Wentworth bowed his e
xit and placed Elizabeth’s hand upon his arm. Even so, Elizabeth glanced back to Darcy as the captain led her away. A combination of longing and confusion crossed her features before Elizabeth disappeared into the shadowy passage to the captain’s box.
Darcy thought to return to his quarters at the hotel and analyze the successes and failures of his encounter with Elizabeth, but Darcy knew his removal from his let box would lead Wentworth to think the captain won their latest skirmish. Darcy would not permit the man the upper hand.
Instead, he returned to his seat to spend his time fantasizing over the pleasure of claiming Elizabeth Bennet as his wife.
* * *
Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth’s gaze drifted often to the box where Mr. Darcy sat, looking upon the performance, but appearing distracted, nonetheless.
When she spotted him among the theatergoers, Elizabeth expected another confrontation, but Mr. Darcy proved himself the consummate gentleman. As she anticipated, Mr. Darcy included more than one reference to their relationship, but he surprised her, nonetheless.
Purposely Elizabeth glanced to Captain Wentworth. The gentleman’s obvious interest in her was flattering. Wentworth was a thoughtful companion, treating her with tenderness and never as an afterthought, but her senses did not tingle with anticipation from the captain’s touch.
Multiple times over the last week, the captain claimed her hand to rest it upon his arm, but it was the brush of Mr. Darcy’s lips upon her gloved hand, which caused Elizabeth’s knees to buckle.
It was deuced frustrating to be susceptible to Mr. Darcy’s masculinity. For some time now, Elizabeth realized she felt an attraction for the man from the start of their acquaintance. She permitted her righteous pride to deny her feelings for the man, but she now understood her indignation at the gentleman’s snub at the Meryton assembly. It was because Elizabeth found the man exceedingly handsome. In that matter, Elizabeth was as misguided as Mr. Darcy in her opinions.
Up until his absence from the church, Elizabeth spent more than one night considering the possibility of resting in Mr. Darcy’s embrace. They shared but one kiss prior to her leaving London for Longbourn.
Of late, she banished thoughts of sharing intimacies with Mr. Darcy from her repertoire; however, Elizabeth expected a return of her musings were at hand. She feared if Mr. Darcy chose to court her, she would succumb to the dream again and would know more heartache for her weakness.
* * *
Darcy waited until Captain Wentworth and Commander Harville departed the residence before he made his appearance upon the Harville threshold.
“Mr. Darcy, how good of you to call upon us this day,” Mrs. Harville said as she accepted his hat and cane and ushered Darcy into a small parlor at the front of the house. It did not surprise Darcy to discover Elizabeth with a cup of tea in hand. It was the way he always imagined her in his home: He and Elizabeth enjoying a cup of tea in the morning after a night of intimacies–her face aglow with affection for him.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth quickly withdrew the pleasure in his appearance and replaced it with a look of disapproval.
“May we offer you tea, Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Harville asked to fill the awkward pause.
Darcy belatedly recalled his purpose in calling upon Elizabeth today. Too often his innate fear of Elizabeth’s rejection had him hesitating just long enough for Elizabeth to interpret the momentary pause as his censure. Darcy meant to change the lady’s opinion.
“There is no need to bother with a fresh post, Mrs. Harville. I broke my fast at the hotel.”
Darcy accepted the chair to which Mrs. Harville gestured.
“You must pardon my impetuous call, Ma’am. I was on my way to the shipyards to view the repairs on a yacht I recently purchased, and I thought perhaps you, Mrs. Bryland, and the officers might care to view the work. Mrs. Bryland appeared quite surprised to learn of my interests in the neighborhood. I thought to rectify that fact.”
“My opinions were never to your liking, Sir,” Elizabeth declared in suspicious tones. “Why would my disbelief in your motives be of concern? I cannot imagine your giving them a second thought.”
Ah, she was back to despising him again. Darcy schooled his features to display no knowledge of Elizabeth’s intent. On the day she crossed the marker to claim her place at his side, Elizabeth Bennet would learn there was a thin line between love and hate.
“You erred, my dear. I always value your opinions. I tended most earnestly to your insistence that your elder sister held Mr. Bingley in true regard, and I recently spoke to Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth flushed with color. She knew exactly which opinions he referenced.
“Mr. Wick…Mr. Wickham?” she stammered.
“Yes, the son of my estate’s former steward recently traveled to Brighton with the Hertfordshire militia. Surely you were aware of Colonel Forster’s withdrawal.”
Darcy prayed he did not overplay his hand by reminding Elizabeth of Mr. Wickham.
“No…I was…not aware of the militia’s removal. Certainly my younger sisters mentioned the possibility, but I held no knowledge of the actuality. I was in Hertfordshire for only a few weeks after being so long removed, and I was…I was…”
“Occupied with a task of some importance,” Darcy supplied.
“Yes,” she said simply before diverting her eyes. All the same, Darcy noted how Elizabeth blinked away her tears.
Darcy thought to make further observations, but the presence of tears in her eyes played hard with his heart. Therefore, he offered Elizabeth no explanation to his business with Mr. Wickham. There was time enough for that once they were safely at her home.
“Then may I prevail upon your good nature, Mrs. Bryland? It would please me to show you the ship. I believe you would find pleasure in the experience.”
Elizabeth looked to Mrs.. Harville.
“Captain Wentworth and Commander Harville have business with the Admiralty this morning. Mrs. Harville and I planned to take the children to the park today.”
Darcy shook off Elizabeth’s objections.
“The invitation, Mrs. Bryland, was for Mrs. Harville to accompany us. I am certain you would offer me a most stern reprimand if I thought to escort you about town without a chaperone, and as to the children, if Mrs. Harville believes they would enjoy viewing the ship, I hold no objections to their presence. I am quite fond of children.”
Elizabeth appeared shocked by his willingness to acquiesce, but there was a hint of yearning when she looked upon him. The thought was most satisfying.
“What say you, Mrs. Harville?” Elizabeth asked tentatively.
“Commander Benwick remains at the inn to write another letter to Fanny so we hold no concerns in that corner, and as to young Thomas and Harry, the boys love the sea as much as their father. To greet a gentleman who owns a vessel would make their outing quite special.”
“Then it is decided,” Darcy said with a smile. “My carriage is outside when you ladies are prepared to depart. I promise you both a ‘charming’ day.”
As Elizabeth and Mrs. Harville rushed away to freshen their clothing, Darcy prayed they would not be long. He wished to be away from the house before Captain Wentworth returned to spoil Darcy’s plans.
* * *
As Elizabeth changed her day dress, she wished for the hundredth time since Mr. Darcy’s arrival in Portsmouth that she brought at least one fashionable gown with her. She chastised the anticipation, which filled her heart. The intensity of Mr. Darcy’s stare during last evening’s performance had warmth creeping through Elizabeth’s veins.
The dratted man occupied her thoughts too often of late. Elizabeth reminded her foolish heart to claim annoyance as its partner. If she could keep Mr. Darcy at a distance long enough, the man would tire of his pursuit and accept her refusal for an answer.
Unfortunately, the genuine smile, which claimed the gentleman’s lips when Elizabeth entered the parlor, had her bracing for the flash of satisfaction warming her heart. The
man’s smile, so rarely present upon Mr. Darcy’s lips, had her thinking of the sun lighting the room with its brilliance.
“You look quite fetching, my dear,” Mr. Darcy said softly.
Elizabeth protested the compliment.
“There is no need for flattery, Mr. Darcy; pretty words shall not alter my decision.”
Although in truth, Elizabeth would welcome the “pretty words” of Mr. Darcy’s letter.
“You must know, Elizabeth, that it was not my choice to leave you at the altar,” he said in regret.
“I am certain,” Elizabeth said with more hurt than she wished to convey, “that Lady Catherine was quite persuasive. Or perhaps it was the Earl of Matlock’s objections that you found viable.”
“I am not so easily persuaded, Elizabeth. No unsolicited opinions could keep me from you.”
Mr. Darcy’s words were more than a bit unnerving.
“Whatever the cause,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head to drive away the maudlin, “the significance wanes. You did me a service, Sir.”
Mr. Darcy’s scowl lines deepened.
“How so?”
“I would never have the resolve to experience the world on my terms. I would always be Mr. Bennet’s daughter or Mr. Darcy’s wife. As Mrs. Bryland, I possess the freedom the world would deny Elizabeth Bennet.”
Before they could speak further, the loud clop of two boisterous boys upon the stairs brought their conversation to a close. Elizabeth knew both remorse and relief with the entrance of the Harvilles.
“If you ladies are amenable, we should depart,” Mr. Darcy said through tight lips. “I told Mr. Brownley I would call by eleven.”
* * *
As Darcy assisted Mrs. Harville, the children, and Elizabeth to his carriage, he was thankful for all the difficult business negotiations he experienced over the years. They taught him on how best to disguise the turmoil claiming him.
Elizabeth Bennet was not meant to be an eccentric spinster aunt; yet, the woman refused to forgive him. Needless to say, if Darcy explained the attack upon his being, Elizabeth would accept her error, but Darcy foolishly desired Elizabeth’s choice to be he. Darcy reasoned if she came to him of her own volition, their joining would possess the chance of affection.
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