“What brings you to Paris, Mr. Darcy?” asked Mr. Gardiner.
What could he say? I was trying to overcome my despair at never marrying your niece? “My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, invited me to accompany him and a few of his friends. It was all very sudden. I had no thought of it a week ago.”
“Where are you stay—“ Mr. Gardiner was asking when a young man appeared at Elizabeth’s elbow.
“Miss Bennet, the next set is forming,” The man was fair and slender and carried himself well. His clothing was well-made and very fashionable. Darcy hated him immediately.
Elizabeth appeared flustered, once again not meeting Darcy’s eyes. “Yes, of course. Mr. Darcy, are you acquainted with Lord Lennox?” A chill went through him. He had a rival already!
“No.” The two men gave each other perfunctory bows of greeting. When Lord Lennox took Elizabeth’s hand, Darcy had to fight the impulse to grab her and remove her from his vicinity. Every fiber of his being screamed against allowing the other man to lead her away. Instead, he struggled to keep his tone even as he focused on Elizabeth. “Might I have the honor of the next dance?”
“Certainly,” she smiled, but the smile seemed cold and formal to his eye. Then Lennox whirled her away into the dance, leaving Darcy to wonder about her reaction upon seeing him again. Did she hate the sight of him? Had she already given her heart to another?
As Elizabeth danced with Lord Lennox, her feet remembered the movements, but her mind was occupied with thoughts of Mr. Darcy. She managed to reply distractedly to the conversational forays of her partner, but essayed no topics for discussion herself.
It was beyond belief that he should be here in Paris; she felt stunned and quite unequal to the task of conversing with him. Elizabeth had fully expected to never see Darcy again. His letter had quite altered her opinion of the man and she was ashamed to realize how grievously she had misjudged him; however, encountering him again had resurrected her embarrassment at the words she had flung in his face at Hunsford. She would not have blamed Mr. Darcy if he had wished to discontinue the acquaintance or even pretended not to know her, but he had been all amiability to her and to her uncle, who was in trade and lived in Cheapside. He had denigrated such connections before, but tonight evinced no discomfort.
Lord Lennox took her hand as she twirled in a circle, but her thoughts were abstracted. What had caused such a change in Darcy? Dare she believe he had altered his behavior because of her earlier reproofs? That thought led to an uncomfortable sense of responsibility toward him. Or was it simply that he was all politeness at a ball among his peers? That was most probable. He would likely revert back to his proud behavior when next she saw him.
Why had he not greeted her coldly and politely, as she expected? She glanced over and saw him conversing amiably with both Gardiners. Surely he was as embarrassed about the incident at Hunsford as she. Why, then, would he wish to further the acquaintance? He could simply greet her, chat for a moment, and continue on. Why was he lingering and asking friendly questions?
He had seemed…she could not immediately give a name to his unusual behavior: hesitant and tongue-tied. Although he frequently appeared a little ill-at-ease upon occasions such as this, she had never seen him quite at such a loss for words. Of course they were both unsettled by the unexpected encounter, but it was more than that. Nervous! That was it: he seemed nervous! But why? Surely she did not inspire such anxiety.
If she were honest with herself, she was not sure how she felt at seeing him again. They had parted on such unfriendly terms in Hunsford and she thoroughly despised herself for how wrongly she had judged him, so she was grateful he seemed desirous of reestablishing a friendship. This was an opportunity to show him that her opinion of him had changed – and yet, it was an extremely uncomfortable situation as well.
Elizabeth joined hands with Lennox for a promenade. They had fallen silent, but she could think of nothing to say. Certainly she did not wish for more than friendship with Mr. Darcy. Although she realized she had been incorrect in many of her suppositions about his character, he was still a sometimes proud and disagreeable man. She could not imagine forming a tender regard for him, but perhaps in time they could be friendly acquaintances.
How could I have been so wrong about him? She asked herself for the hundredth time. He offered me his love, his life and I threw it back in his face. It is a wonder he can even bear to speak with me! In addition to guilt, she felt pity for the pain he had undoubtedly experienced. I owe him an apology for my behavior at Hunsford. She glanced over at Darcy, who was smiling and nodding his head at something her aunt had said. I just hope I have an opportunity to deliver it.
With great effort, Darcy tore his gaze away as Elizabeth and Lennox commenced dancing, only then realizing that Mr. Gardiner was still by his side. He struggled to think of something to say – anything, but he was still stunned by Elizabeth’s presence. She is here! In the same room! Part of him exulted while the other part struggled to maintain some semblance of rationality.
He was painfully conscious that Elizabeth’s uncle was one of the relatives he had maligned during his disastrous proposal. Although he was not averse to talking with the older man, he felt the awkwardness of it. The silence stretched too long; he must say something. He turned to Mr. Gardiner, “How long have you been in France?”
With this innocuous beginning, they commenced a conversation. To his relief, Darcy found Elizabeth’s uncle very amiable and of good understanding. Mr. Gardiner introduced Darcy to his wife when she joined them and the couple described their travels so far. They were guests of Mrs. Radnor, who was a longtime friend of theirs from London, a fact which suggested to Darcy that he had misjudged them. Although she spent most of her time in France now, Mrs. Radnor had traveled in the best society in England. Despite his position in trade, Mr. Gardiner was obviously well connected.
The Gardiners and their niece planned to stay another week before returning to England. Mr. Gardiner also revealed the sad intelligence that business called him to Rouen, so they would be leaving Paris in two days. Darcy felt a pang; he had already envisioned how he could occupy Miss Bennet’s every waking moment. Do not get ahead of yourself. You do not know whether she will welcome your company at all.
As he watched Elizabeth dance with Lennox, Darcy found it difficult to focus on the conversation with the Gardiners. In her yellow silk dress, her cheeks brightened by the exercise, and her dark curls bouncing, she was simply bewitching. He noted with dismay that Lennox cut a fine figure and was an accomplished dancer. Would that he were another Mr. Collins.
Whenever Lennox touched Elizabeth’s hand, hot waves of jealousy rushed through Darcy. He told himself fiercely that he had no right to jealousy, that Elizabeth was not his. But, she should be, came the whispered response from the deepest recesses of his mind. Simply glancing away from the dancing couple did nothing to alleviate the sensations, since he still felt his pulse quicken and his muscles tense as if his body was preparing to fight Lennox. Darcy gave up his attempts to ward off the jealousy and surrendered himself to the pain.
“I do not believe I am familiar with Lord Lennox,” Darcy said to Mr. Gardiner, desperately hoping that Lennox was one of those impoverished noblemen who needs must marry a wealthy tradesman’s daughter to sustain his way of life. Then Elizabeth would be safe.
“His family is from Surrey,” Mr. Gardiner supplied helpfully. “They own a large estate there. His father is the Earl of Westfield and have done some business together, but it has been some time since I saw his family. Lord Lennox is the Earl’s oldest son and is taking his Grand Tour. He is recently arrived from Italy. Imagine my surprise to find him here!”
“Indeed.” Darcy concluded sadly that Lord Lennox likely had plenty of wealth and could marry whomever he wanted. Nor did he seem overly troubled by distinctions of rank. Damnation! The last thing he needed was a rival. How had Elizabeth managed so quickly to attract the attention of someone who could actually offer more than
Darcy by way of material advantage? And a title as well!
Maybe he was dancing with Elizabeth out of politeness, he thought desperately as he watched her laugh at something Lennox said. On the other hand, he probably did not have a history of offending her and denigrating her family. That was definitely to Lennox’s advantage.
“When did you encounter him here in Paris?” Darcy inquired.
“Two days ago, directly after our arrival. We espied him during a walk in the park. He has been to call twice since then and he secured us an invitation to the Foxcrofts’ ball yesterday,” answered Mrs. Gardiner. Darcy made a polite response, abstracted in his own thoughts.
Clearly Elizabeth is not just a passing fancy for him. Worse and worse. Why should he not be interested? She has everything he would want in a wife: wit, vivacity, intelligence, beauty…Darcy had to stop the cataloguing before he drove himself insane. He reminded himself sternly that Elizabeth had rejected him in no uncertain terms. He had no right to impose himself on her again, but this reminder did nothing to stop the yearning. Every inch of his body longed to touch her, kiss her, make her his.
Mrs. Gardiner seemed to be watching Darcy very intently. Did she suspect his affection for Elizabeth? Had he been that transparent already? I must stop staring at her. But his eyes did not want to cooperate with this resolution. Since Hunsford he had tried to convince himself that he had exaggerated her charms, but now he realized his memories had not done her justice. He was exactly as entranced as he had been at Rosings.
Darcy and the Gardiners watched the dancers swirl past in a riot of color. He reminded himself that all the enchanting behavior Elizabeth had exhibited prior to the disastrous proposal at Hunsford was not flirtatious. At Netherfield and Rosings he had been so certain that she was flirting with him, that she matched wits because she recognized his interest in her and was encouraging it. Her reaction to his proposal had proved how sadly he had misjudged her.
Bitterly he mused that it would be better for Elizabeth if he quitted the field in favor of Lennox, especially since it would not be difficult for her to think better of him than she did of Darcy. When they spoke earlier, she was probably simply being polite to an unpleasant acquaintance, he thought, as the image of her angry face spurning his proposal swam before his eyes – accompanied by a familiar sense of despair. Did it even matter that she was in Paris? She still disliked him and that was unlikely to change. Perhaps I should leave now before subjecting myself to further dashed hopes.
No, I cannot abandon the ship. I must apologize to her. I owe her that much. Only a glimmer of hope remained that perhaps she had changed her mind – or could be persuaded to change her mind about him, but that hope kept him rooted to the spot.
Finally the dance ended and Lennox returned Elizabeth to her aunt and uncle. Her eyes were bright from the exertion and she was simply breathtaking as she floated toward Darcy. Stop! She is probably enamored of this Lord Lennox fellow. Then Elizabeth returned his gaze and smiled brilliantly. Hope, which had lain like a dying thing in his breast, staggered to life.
“Miss Bennet,” Lennox bowed over Elizabeth’s hand, kissed it, and grinned intently at her. Darcy stiffened involuntarily. She smiled at Lennox, but to Darcy’s eye it was a pale imitation of the look she had bestowed on him. Only once Lennox had departed, did the muscles in Darcy’s back and neck relax slightly. Now Elizabeth was his – at least for the space of the next dance. As their hands touched, Darcy felt a surge of energy, like an electric current travel up his arm – a sensation no other woman had ever created. As he glanced over at her he wondered if she could sense it as well, but, if so, she did not betray herself.
They exchanged a few pleasantries as he escorted her onto the dance floor. The room had grown even warmer and, as a result, there were fewer couples waiting to dance.
As the music started to play, Darcy tried to guess at Elizabeth’s sentiments upon seeing him. Was she angry he dared to present himself to her again? The memory of her words at Hunsford caused Darcy’s blackest thoughts to close around him again. No, he must nurture the small flame of hope that had been kindled. Perhaps he could alter her opinion of him – if he was not an idiot again! But, what was the hope of that?
He pulled himself out of his reverie. If he never spoke to her, he could never change her opinion. “Miss Bennet, I should demonstrate to you that I have attended to your reproof at Netherfield by displaying my skill at conversation while dancing,” he said. She colored slightly at this reminder. “Your parents are in good health?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he recalled he had asked her already. What was it about this woman that made him such an idiot?
Although a smile quirked the side of her mouth she did not tease him for his faux pas. “Yes, they are in excellent health, thank you.”
“And your sisters?”
“They are all well. My sister Lydia is gone to Brighton to visit friends.”
No other topic occurred to Darcy and he fell silent, cursing his inability to carry on light conversation in general and his propensity to be tongue-tied with Elizabeth in particular. The dance drew them back into opposite lines, putting a temporary stop to conversation. Instead he enjoyed the sight of Elizabeth dancing, finding every move, every gesture, every flush on her cheek utterly enchanting.
The dance brought them together once more and Elizabeth spoke: “I received a letter from my sister Jane this morning. She wrote that Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield and has been to visit at Longbourn.”
Darcy smiled slightly. “Yes, he told me he might.”
Elizabeth’s gaze was penetrating. “Did you encourage him? To return to Netherfield, I mean?”
Darcy was intensely uncomfortable revisiting a topic that had caused such strife before, but he should explain his attempts to rectify his officious interference. Hopefully Elizabeth would take good intentions into consideration. “I believe Bingley had some thoughts of giving the house up, but I suggested he visit it again before making such an important decision.”
“Very sound advice indeed.” Her smile for him was genuine and his heart felt buoyant.
“I am pleased you approve. I merely suggested he should see the house in a different season to see if it still suited him. And if he still suited – it.”
“You speak about the house almost as if it were a person!” She was laughing now.
“In this situation I believe the comparison is apt. It is, after all, a very personal decision.” Darcy felt lighter than he had in a long time. She was teasing him again!
“Yes, very personal.” Her eyes were shining and he basked in her approval.
As they danced, Elizabeth felt the warmth of Mr. Darcy’s gaze on her. She had forgotten how intense his stares could be. Before the proposal she had believed he watched her with disapproval; now that she knew his gaze was filled with desire, she was uncomfortable for a different reason. Naturally she was flattered, but the warmth of his desire alone was not enough to recommend him.
With relief she noted that he appeared as willing as she to pretend the proposal had never taken place. Still, she recalled his saying that his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever. Was it possible that his good opinion of her had survived the accusations she had hurled at him? She found it hard to credit that idea; it was far more likely that he was simply showing how he had overcome his previous regard for her. Recalling his confession of a resentful temperament, she had often envisioned him nursing his resentment.
Their conversation soon turned to their travels and the sights each had seen or hoped to see. Elizabeth allowed herself to relax slightly and began to enjoy herself. All too soon, the dance was over. As he led her from the dance floor, Darcy asked, “Colonel Fitzwilliam is here. Would you like to see him?”
“Yes! Very much.”
Darcy tried to quell an uprising of jealousy in his breast at her enthusiastic response. He reminded himself that Richard could not afford to marry a woman with no fortune – nor would he pursue someo
ne for whom Darcy had expressed an attachment; however, if she harbored tender feelings for his cousin, all would be lost.
They collected the Gardiners and made their way slowly through the crush of people. Darcy’s superior height allowed him to spy his cousin; when they came upon him he was still immersed in political discussions with his friends. His back was to them and he was making some point with an energetic wave of his arm when Darcy drew up beside him. “I encountered someone of your acquaintance, Cousin.”
“Indeed?” Richard turned and his jaw dropped open at the sight of Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet!”
“Colonel, it is a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce my uncle and aunt: Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?”
After the introductions had been effected, Darcy and Fitzwilliam offered to collect drinks for the thirsty revelers. Darcy had been relieved to see that Elizabeth had shown no more than polite pleasure at Fitzwilliam’s presence. As they moved toward the refreshments, Richard shook his head at Darcy. “You are a very lucky man. You have another chance.”
Darcy grasped his cousin’s meaning, but said: “I am not certain it is another chance.”
“You had better seize it or I will personally throttle you.” Richard said with a growl in his voice.
“That hardly seems a throttling offence,” Darcy countered, smiling.
“I am serious,” Richard turned on his cousin with a sober expression on his face. “Do not squander this opportunity or I will never endure your drunken self-pity again.”
“If I squander this opportunity, I will never forgive myself.” Darcy looked back to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth through the milling throngs of people. “But I do not know if she will grant me another chance. Back in London if I had truly believed she would forgive me, I would have traveled to Hertfordshire immediately. Her presence in Paris does not mean she is willing to excuse my transgressions.”
The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 3