Darcy's Passions

by Regina Jeffers

  20 October

  Dearest Georgiana,

  Your letter of the 2nd brought me such delight; I would confess to having reread it daily of late as a way of keeping you lovingly in my heart. Bingley’s estate possesses plausible attributes, and although it keeps me from your company, being in his service in this matter satisfies me. Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst number among our party at Netherfield, and we suffer from varying degrees of country society. Duties of this nature, as you know, pain me, but I consent on Bingley’s behalf.

  We first undertook a local assembly. I found very little pleasing among those at the assembly, having experienced such behavior on prior occasions when duty called me to Lambton and other local villages. Detesting dancing with strangers only added to my discomfort. However, not wanting to discredit Bingley, I maintained my station with abridgement. I wish I could recall as much for Miss Bingley and her sister. I would never consider criticizing one of Miss Bingley’s standing; yet, I found her behavior, in reality, not complimentary to her brother’s desire. He does these things to advance Miss Bingley’s status; yet, she repays him most unceremoniously.True, many at the assembly found them to be pleasant. However, I was not convinced; Bingley’s sisters did not try to please anyone but themselves.The neighborhood, which lacks any sophistication, should not have been disposed to approve of their behavior.The Bingley sisters are fine ladies when they choose to be, but they allow their opinions of themselves to border on pride and conceit. Both Caroline and Louisa are rather handsome and each received private seminary educations. Miss Bingley possesses a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, although both women are, I fear, in the habit of spending more than they ought.They associate with fine society and have a right to consider themselves privileged, but they should consider how meanly they treat others.

  Their pride is a common failing and is, unfortunately, found in all circles.We all, I believe, display pride in some real or imaginary quality with some people cherishing these feelings of self-complacency. Maybe what the Bingley sisters display is vanity, but I argue vanity and pride differ.A person may be proud without being vain. Opinions of ourselves define our pride; what we have others think of us is our vanity.

  Thankfully, our family has the benefit of generations of knowing what society expects.With Mrs.Annesley to guide you, my Dearest, I fear no such behavior from you. Georgiana, I must regretfully close. Please do not concern yourself, my girl, with thoughts of my happiness; when it is time for my taking a wife, I will find someone who will give us both affection as the mistress of Pemberley and as a devoted sister. I am anticipating your concert for my benefit. I am sure it will be one I will cherish forever as I do all of our times together. Praying that you too find all the happiness you so rightly deserve, I am your affectionate brother . . .

  Fitzwilliam

  The evening’s engagement took place at Lucas Lodge; again, Darcy found his thoughts taking on a contradictory form. Over the past few weeks, he developed an interest in learning more about Elizabeth Bennet. He desperately wanted to see more of her although he knew an alliance with such a family insupportable. Darcy convinced himself of late he held no real interest in Elizabeth Bennet; so little entertainment came to a man of the world in Hertfordshire society, and Miss Elizabeth became only a diversion for his hours of boredom; that was all she was to him; that was all she could ever be to a man of his quality, a man of property as vast as Pemberley. Darcy would never take advantage of Elizabeth Bennet as a former friend tried to do with Georgiana; he was a man of honor, a man of scruples; yet, he found his diversion with Elizabeth Bennet to be an unanticipated pleasure.

  As much as Darcy took pleasure in Elizabeth Bennet’s vitality, her family appeared less than to be desired. Mrs. Bennet’s connections proved poor, having brothers, one a country attorney in Meryton and another who resided in Cheapside in London. Mrs. Bennet, whose manners, openly profusive at best, had one goal: Find her five daughters suitable matches in life; Mr. Bennet, well read and a gentleman with an income of two thousand pounds per year, took very little interest in the activities of his wife and daughters. Jane and Elizabeth Bennet he accepted, but the three youngest were left to their own frivolities; one devoted herself to her studies to the point of being rude, while the other two openly flirted with every available man, especially with those officers of the local militia. Having observed the Bennets over a fortnight, Darcy convinced himself an alliance to such a family intolerable; and he feared Bingley might be choosing poorly if he continued to favor Miss Bennet. Of course, Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth Bennet could never advance to that level: He just found someone in the area with an active mind, a person not of a dole character, whom he could observe from afar.

  As the evening at Lucas Lodge progressed, Darcy took pleasure in espying on Elizabeth Bennet’s interactions with Charlotte Lucas, various militia officers in attendance, Bingley, and her elder sister. He noted of late little escaped Elizabeth’s attention. He watched as she complimented Maria Lucas on her needlework, causing the girl to blush excessively but out of reinforcing its worth rather than out of shame. He observed Elizabeth trying to reign in her mother’s exuberance. Elizabeth, evidently, took delight in Bingley’s attentions to her sister, but she did not suspect Darcy’s growing interest in her. Darcy’s desire to know more of her advanced throughout the evening; and as a way to converse with her, he eavesdropped on her conversations with others. His doing so drew Elizabeth’s notice and, eventually, she told Charlotte she would confront him. Therefore, when Darcy came near her, although he showed no intention of speaking, Elizabeth playfully confronted him. “Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

  Flustered momentarily that Elizabeth Bennet took note of his attention, Darcy recovered his composure and said, “With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic.” He knew he should walk on, but the need to remain a few moments more in her court overwhelmed him.

  “You are severe on us,” she replied. Darcy quickly assimilated the double meaning to her words. More than likely, Elizabeth still waited for the apology he owed her for his conduct at the assembly.

  Charlotte Lucas, not wishing her friend to offend a man of such high standing in her father’s house, tried to divert Elizabeth.“It will be her turn soon to be teased. I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

  Elizabeth good-naturedly lamented, “You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would be invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” The insult, coated in sweetness in order not to directly offend Darcy, found no such offense; instead, he searched the depths of her eyes.

  Yet, Miss Lucas persevered, and Elizabeth added, “If you insist, dear Charlotte, it must be so.” And gravely glancing at Darcy, she said,“There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is, of course, familiar with:‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge’; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”

  She curtsied and walked toward the instrument. The mocked sincerity with which Elizabeth spoke was not lost on Darcy; and although her use of a common colloquialism should offer him an affront to their respective stations in life, he found an allurement to the possibility of learning something new about Elizabeth Bennet. As casually as he could, he circulated about the room and took up a position where he could enjoy Elizabeth’s musical turn, as well as take full advantage of observing her profile. Darcy could not believe her performance: The clarity of her voice sliced through him, and he found closing his eyes allowed him to enjoy it even more. Her singing was excellent, and although her performance on the pianoforte lacked faithfulness to the notes, her joy for life captivated him.

  Regretfully, Elizabeth chose to end her performance even tho
ugh others beseeched her with entreaties to continue. Mary, the plainest Bennet sister, succeeded Elizabeth at the instrument; Mary applied herself more completely than did Elizabeth to her practice and sought the gathering’s appreciation, but Darcy felt if her sister spent more time in cultivating her taste rather than diligence in her application, she too might achieve Elizabeth’s easy and unaffected manner.

  The younger sisters, wanting their share of attention, interrupted Mary’s concerto and demanded she play Scotch and Irish airs, more suitable for dancing with the officers. Darcy, having moved away from the instrument after Elizabeth’s performance, looked on in disgust. He preferred an evening of conversation and, particularly, a chance to converse with Elizabeth Bennet. Engrossed in his thoughts, Sir William Lucas’s approach took him unawares. “What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies”

  With his usual outspoken bluntness, Darcy responded, “Certainly, Sir; it also has the advantage of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.”

  Darcy’s reserve did not deter Sir William’s conversation; he spoke of Bingley’s affably joining the dancers, complimented Darcy’s dancing at the assembly, inquired into how often Darcy danced at St. James, and finally queried about Darcy’s house in town. Darcy, distracted by this babble, did not realize at that instant Elizabeth moved toward them, and Sir William, struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, called out to her, “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner.You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.” Sir William took her hand and attempted to give it to Darcy.

  Taken by surprise at this sudden turn of events, Darcy wanted to take advantage of this pleasant offering.The possibility of holding Elizabeth’s hand uncharacteristically warmed Darcy’s innards, creating an unfamiliar sensation.Although he was not unwilling to receive her hand, Elizabeth instantly drew back from him and said with some discomposure to Sir William,“Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

  “Miss Bennet, you would do me a great honor if you allow us to dance,” Darcy responded gravely. The fact Elizabeth Bennet offered no pretense or traps to allure potential suitors appeared not wasted on his sensible nature.

  However, Elizabeth would not agree; even Sir William’s entreaties could not persuade her. “You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”

  “Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling. Yet, she continued her refusal and walked away.

  Her briskness should offend him, but it did not do so; he still considered the beauty of the woman when Miss Bingley approached.“I can guess the subject of your reverie, Mr. Darcy,” she began, close enough to nearly whisper in his ear.

  Without turning his head toward her or taking his eyes from the figure of Elizabeth Bennet, he responded,“I should imagine not.”

  Not to be deterred, she continued, adding her usual censure of the gathering,“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and, indeed, I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed!The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

  She evidently expected Darcy to agree Hertfordshire society to be too full of self-importance. Imagine her surprise when he said rather distractedly, “Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”

  Miss Bingley, registering his unhinged attention, immediately realized his thoughts seemed elsewhere. With an underlying layer of urgency, she asked,“What lady creates such pleasure for you, Mr. Darcy? Is it someone I know?” Caroline hoped he meant the reference for her.

  Darcy replied with resolve,“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  Watching her hopes dissipate devastated Caroline. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favorite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?” And although she continued to try to discredit Elizabeth in Darcy’s opinion, concentrating her attack on Elizabeth’s lack of suitable family connections, he never changed his focus.

  The next morning as the Bingley party slept, Darcy decided to partake of the grounds on foot rather than on horseback. He spent an uneasy night; whenever he sought rest, a pair of fine eyes and an enigmatic smile haunted his dreams. Determined this morning to clear his mind of the thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy hoped the pleasure in the walk would arise not from solitary thoughts of the woman but from being outdoors and from repeating some of the many poems that extol the beauty of autumn. Although he at first occupied his mind with thoughts of the weather, of the exercise, and of the beauty of the season, unfortunately, in no time, Darcy’s mind drifted elsewhere: Elizabeth Bennet.

  He wondered now, how were her sentiments to be read. Elizabeth’s flirtations of late increased in their intensity and duration. Before she forgave him, clearly, though, he should apologize for the assembly. He knew her to be a responsive person, one who would excuse his folly in not choosing to dance when they first met.Yet, on the other hand, a most disagreeable manner formed Darcy’s opinion of the Bennets. Only the two eldest Bennets possessed any sense of propriety, and though he took an apparent liking for Elizabeth, his determination not to fall for her remained important. She would not make him a suitable wife; she did not fit his criteria of what a mistress of Pemberley should possess. He understood he should not encourage her interest; it would not be honorable to lead Elizabeth on. Therefore, did he then wish to avoid her? He thought all these things as he traversed the grounds. The chaos of his mind had him hating himself for the turmoil such thoughts created. Why did he question his motives? He knew what he should do in regards to his growing interest in Elizabeth Bennet, but what his mind told him to do and what his heart bade him do became two different things.

  CHAPTER 3

  “ . . . to be really in love without encouragement . . .”

  Darcy’s thoughts fought each other as such for several days whenever he was alone and too often when he was not. Little of notice distracted him within the area except the arrival of the —shire in Meryton, and eventually, he and Bingley dined with the officers. Much to his friend’s dismay, on the same evening, his sisters chose to engage Miss Bennet to Netherfield. He had not enjoyed Jane Bennet’s company for several days, and Bingley’s countenance showed the irony of the situation.“That beautiful angel dines here at my own table this evening, while you and I, Darcy, have the pleasure of dining with the local militia.”

  For Darcy’s part, being away from Elizabeth Bennet the past few days solidified his newfound resolve to ignore her and to squash any aspirations she might have. Therefore, his response did little to allay Bingley’s desire to cancel their engagement with the officers. After the dinner, the smooth brandy and the interesting conversation entertained Darcy. His interest in military history served him well during the evening, and several who originally found him proud had second thoughts about his congeniality. A continual downpour dampened his spirits some, but not enough to ruin the evening, while the rain and the travesty of the situation dramatically increased Bingley’s discomposure.

  Descending from their carriage upon their return to Netherfield, the gentlemen learned Miss Bennet took ill during dinner. She, evidently, rode the family horse to Netherfield from her home at Longbourn three miles away, and the downpour soaked her clothes. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst insisted she stay the nig
ht. “Caroline, how is Miss Bennet?” Bingley pleaded with his sister when she exited the lady’s room.

  “The apothecary has come and gone, Charles. Miss Bennet has a fever.We offered her accommodations for the evening,” his sister replied, a bit out of sorts with having to deal with this matter.

  “Should we send to London for a physician?” Bingley said, pacing the floor.

  “The lady has a cold. She will be better tomorrow. Sending for a physician would be preposterous for a cold! I warrant Miss Bennet will be better on the morrow, Charles.” The whole matter fatigued Caroline. Although not thoroughly content with the answer, Bingley did not press his sister further. He would wait until the morning to assess whether Miss Bennet needed something else.

  Satisfied he could do nothing to relieve his friend’s tumult and seeing no other need for his service, Darcy retired to his rooms. Sitting before the mirror in his dressing room, he spoke aloud to the image of the man he had become.“So, Miss Bennet is here and ill. How convenient for her! I wonder who planned such a foolish venture—Mrs. Bennet, of course; she arranged this all. She sent her daughter out in the rain to snag herself a husband. Can one image such a mother—such connections—poor Elizabeth?” As soon as he said her name, a reverie of images of the woman overcame his senses. Every time he thought he rid himself of his desire to see and talk to Elizabeth Bennet, reminders resurfaced. Elizabeth would never agree to such a clearly manipulated plot as this one was, he mused. Should he warn Bingley? His friend became more entangled each day; could he allow Bingley to create an alliance with such a family ? What was he thinking? He considered such an alliance himself on more than one occasion! Elizabeth is still a Bennet; he had to keep reminding himself of that fact and of the repugnance he felt for her connections.