Darcy and the Wrong Miss Bennet

by Jane Grix

  She said, “Without all the facts, it is difficult to know whom to believe.”

  “You are correct, and that is wise, but I only warn you to be on your guard.”

  For a next few minutes, they were silent, and he could tell that she considering his words. She said finally, “I doubt we will see much of him, for he is rumoured to be engaged to Miss King.”

  “I presume Miss King is an heiress?”

  “Ten thousand pounds.”

  Wickham must be desperate if he was willing to consider such a sum. Darcy said, “Thank you for telling me. Perhaps I should warn Miss King as well.”

  “You would do that?”

  He said honestly, “I would not wish Wickham upon anyone. He will make a poor husband.”

  “Surely that is for Miss King to decide.”

  “With more facts, yes.”

  Elizabeth looked troubled but she did not comment further, and then they were interrupted by Sir William Lucas who appeared close by, attempting to pass through the set. Sir William was a large, jovial man who spoke twice as much as anyone wished to hear. When he recognized the two of them, he bowed formally. He said, “Mr. Darcy. I have been most highly gratified this evening. Such superior dancing. It is evident that you belong to the first circles and your fair partner does not disgrace you.”

  Darcy nodded, wishing that the man would move along quickly, but that was an unrealistic hope. Sir William continued, rattling on. “I hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event shall take place –” At this he glanced over at Bingley and Jane Bennet who were sitting together. “Eh, Miss Elizabeth?”

  She had the grace to look embarrassed and said, “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

  Sir William winked and smiled. “I know. I know. We shall wait until the banns are read. But then what congratulations will flow in!”

  Darcy was astonished. Was everyone in Meryton expecting Bingley to marry Miss Bennet? Sir William certainly spoke as if it was a foregone conclusion. Darcy knew that he must warn Bingley as soon as the dance ended.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Elizabeth wished that Sir William would keep his pleasantries to himself. She saw Darcy’s countenance change when Sir William hinted at a future engagement between Bingley and Jane. Darcy’s jaw tightened and he looked over at his friend Bingley with a serious expression. After that, neither of them spoke as the dance continued. When it ended, they parted, Elizabeth to find Lydia to tell her what Darcy had said, and Darcy presumably to find Bingley.

  When Elizabeth finally spoke to her twin sister by one of the punch bowls, Lydia defended her favourite. “It is certain that Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham dislike each other, but I am more likely to believe Wickham. I think he has been treated abominably.”

  “Have you forgiven him for wanting Miss King instead of you?”

  Lydia said, “No, but I understand it. If I had ten thousand pounds, he’d want me instead.”

  Elizabeth was not certain what to think. Mr. Wickham had all the appearances of a good man – warm and engaging, but his recent behaviour towards Lydia gave her pause. A good man would not court two women at the same time.

  And Mr. Darcy, for all his pride and reserve, had seemed honestly concerned for Miss King. When they spoke, she had wondered if Wickham was his half-brother, but of course, she could not ask him. She said to Lydia, “Perhaps it would be best to forget all about Mr. Wickham.”

  “You are right,” Lydia said. “My heart is broken, but I must act in my own best interests, just as Wickham has done.”

  There was hint of ruthlessness in Lydia’s sentiments that bothered Elizabeth, but she was grateful that Lydia was not crying.

  At this moment, Mr. Collins appeared again, eager to dance with Elizabeth, and she did not know how to refuse him again, so she followed him out onto the dance floor.

  The next two dances were tortuous. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, did not attend sufficiently to the steps of the dance. He often moved wrong without knowing it and then apologized profusely, making everyone look at the two of them with either amusement or sympathy.

  This was one of those times that Elizabeth did care what others thought of her. She was mortified, and once she was free, she walked out the French doors to the garden. She did not care if it was cold outside, for she wanted to be alone to forget her embarrassment.

  She wrapped her shawl around herself and walked away from the building towards some decorative bushes and several marble statues.

  Elizabeth stopped for a moment at the feet of Athena and looked upward. Athena wore a flowing dress and there was a helmet on her head that glowed pale in the moonlight.

  Athena was supposed to be the goddess of wisdom, and Elizabeth wished that she had more wisdom. She could hear the faint musical sounds of the orchestra from the house, but she could also hear two gentlemen talking on the other side of a tall hedge.

  “I don’t care if everyone thinks that I will propose to Jane Bennet because I have every intention of doing so.”

  That was Mr. Bingley and his words warmed Elizabeth’s heart. He did love her sister and he wished to marry her.

  Darcy interjected with a curt, “When?”

  “As soon as the time is right.”

  “After your trip to London?”

  Bingley hesitated and when he spoke, he sounded uncertain. “Actually, I have decided that I don’t need to go, not just yet.”

  Darcy made a rude noise of exasperation.

  Bingley said, “What is the problem?”

  Elizabeth knew that she should not eavesdrop, but she could not help herself. She stepped closer to the hedge to hear their conversation clearly.

  Darcy said, “I’ve seen you in love before, Bingley, and your infatuations never last.”

  “This time it is different.”

  “That is what you said last time.”

  Elizabeth felt some unease at the mocking scorn in Darcy’s words. Was Mr. Bingley fickle?”

  Bingley said, “I know it sounds foolish, but this time, I feel differently. I have never met a woman as beautiful and sweet as Jane. I would be a fool to let her go.”

  “She doesn’t love you.”

  Elizabeth gasped and had to cover her own mouth to keep from exclaiming.

  Darcy continued, “She is polite, nothing more.”

  “You are mistaken,” Bingley said.

  “She does not look at you with any particular attention,” Darcy continued. “You may have wondered why I stood by, observing you both earlier tonight. Your partiality was clear, but Miss Bennet does not feel the same. Her manners are open and cheerful, but she looks at you the same way that she looks at Sir William Lucas.”

  “No,” Bingley said, echoing Elizabeth’s own thoughts. She wanted to interrupt, to tell Bingley that Darcy was mistaken.

  Jane was naturally reserved, particularly in public, but that did not mean that her heart was not involved.

  Darcy added, “Truthfully, the only Bennet who loves you is Mrs. Bennet, and she loves your fortune.”

  “That is unkind”

  “Is it? Tonight I overheard her telling Lady Lucas that once Jane marries you, it will throw her daughters in the way of other rich men.”

  Elizabeth flinched at his statement, hating the implication that her mother was mercenary, but knowing that it was something her mother would have said.

  Darcy said, “Do not be blinded by Jane Bennet’s beauty. Consider her family – her mother is vulgar and grasping, her father is intelligent but ineffectual. He has done nothing to keep his daughters from acting like hoydens and flirting outrageously.

  “Jane is not a hoyden. Neither is Elizabeth.”

  “No, but if you marry Jane, her family will become yours. Do you want Mrs. Bennet continually in your drawing room? Do you want to pay for Mary’s music lessons and for a London season for Lydia and whatever the youngest girl is called?”

  “Catherine,” Bingley supplied. “They call he
r Kitty.”

  Darcy said, “Even so. The burden of that family is not worth the benefit, particularly when Jane doesn’t care for you.”

  “You’re wrong. I think she cares for me.”

  Darcy said, “You are only twenty-two years old. I am six years older and I have seen more of the world. Believe me, you do not want to marry a woman who does not love you. How will you feel if you do marry her and a few years from now, Jane falls in love with someone else?”

  “Impossible.”

  “Thus thinks every man who was ever a cuckold.”

  Elizabeth gasped. How dare he say that about Jane!

  “That is uncalled for.” Bingley sounded angry.

  Darcy said quickly, “I mean no disrespect to Miss Bennet. I am merely telling you what I have seen. Many high society families have miscellaneous children. And most marriages are more a matter of convenience than love.”

  “I want to marry for love,” Bingley said.

  “Then don’t act in haste,” Darcy advised. “Wait a few years until you find a young woman who truly loves you – and not just your fortune.”

  Bingley said, “You really think that Miss Bennet doesn’t care for me?”

  “Trust me. She is completely indifferent to you.”

  At that moment, Elizabeth hated Mr. Darcy. How dare he interfere with his friend’s happiness? Who did he think he was to judge the world and find Jane wanting? Jane who was the dearest, sweetest creature?

  Elizabeth stood for a moment, torn between wanting to speak up and not wanting to be discovered. Discretion won and she hurried back to the ballroom before Darcy and Bingley returned to the house. She would speak to Jane and see if there wasn’t some way for Jane to show Bingley how she truly felt.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Elizabeth strove to hide her agitation with composure, but it was difficult. She marched into the ballroom, looking for Jane. It was clear to her that her initial impression of Mr. Darcy had been correct – he was proud and arrogant and thought himself superior to her family. Odious man.

  He was also manipulative, trying to persuade Bingley away from Jane. She wondered if Darcy, like Miss Bingley, wanted Bingley to marry his sister instead.

  Jane was speaking with Miss Bingley. As Elizabeth approached them, she heard Mary playing the pianoforte and singing for the guests, and her stomach sank.

  Mary had chosen music that was beyond her natural skill, and the result was painful. Her voice was weak and ill-suited to the material. Elizabeth saw a look of derision on Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst’s faces.

  At the close of her performance, Mary accepted the guests’ tepid approval and after a pause of less than a minute, began another song.

  Elizabeth looked at her father to entreat his interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint, and when Mary finished her second song, said aloud, “That will do very well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”

  Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment at her father’s ill-mannered speech. No doubt, he intended to be humorous, but his sarcasm implied that all the other young ladies wished to exhibit themselves. She glanced at Darcy who by this time had re-entered the ballroom with Bingley.

  He wore a grave look of displeasure at her father’s statement, and she wished that she and her entire family were elsewhere, where he could not judge them.

  Then to make matters even worse, Mr. Collins approached Mr. Darcy, bowed low, and introduced himself. Darcy was astonished by his impertinence and stood stiffly. As the man superior in consequence, it was his prerogative to initiate their acquaintance and determine its depth.

  Mr. Collins spoke so loudly that half the room could hear as he informed Mr. Darcy that he had just learned that Darcy was the nephew of his patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  Mr. Collins rattled on, ignorant of the fact that Mr. Darcy obviously did not welcome his familiarity.

  Mr. Collins paid his respects and informed Darcy that Lady Catherine had been in excellent health a week ago yesterday.

  After a moment, Darcy nodded coolly and excused himself.

  Elizabeth watched as Mr. Collins smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself.

  She wanted to hide her head in shame.

  It seemed that everything her family did that evening would only strengthen Mr. Darcy’s disapproval.

  DARCY DRANK A CUP OF punch as he looked out over the dance floor. As much as he wanted to ignore her, his gaze was drawn to Elizabeth. She was lovely tonight in a pink dress that bared her elegant throat. She did not wear any necklace, and he thought that the Darcy emeralds would complement the creamy colour of her skin.

  “I can guess the subject of your reverie,” Miss Bingley said.

  Darcy knew she was unhappy with him because he had danced with Elizabeth and not with her that evening. He said, “I should imagine not.”

  She said, “You are thinking, like me, that this ball was a mistake. Consider the insipidity and yet the noise., the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people.”

  Miss Bingley was as insipid as any of her guests. He said nothing, and Miss Bingley continued, “I would love to hear your thoughts on the evening.”

  He thought not. He said, “It is a ball, nothing more or less. And most people enjoy dancing.”

  “But not you.”

  “Not usually,” he agreed.

  Miss Bingley said, “You seemed to enjoy dancing with Miss Eliza tonight.”

  Darcy looked at her sharply. Did Miss Bingley think that badgering him was a way to shift his attentions from Elizabeth to herself? He said calmly, “Miss Elizabeth is a fine dancer.”

  “She is adequate, I suppose, but there are finer points of the dance that require the tutorage of a superior dance master.”

  “I disagree. Miss Elizabeth has a natural grace that overcomes any possible faults in her technique.”

  From the pursing of her lips, it was clear that Miss Bingley did not want to hear him compliment Elizabeth. She said, “However, as a friend, I must warn you that by only dancing with her, you may be giving her unreasonable expectations.”

  Now Miss Bingley had crossed the line of friendship. Did she think to school him in manners? He said, “In what way?”

  “As you danced with her tonight, I overheard some discussion suggesting that you had a tendre for Miss Elizabeth just as my brother has one for Miss Bennet. If you do not distance yourself, you may become trapped.”

  At that moment, Darcy realized that being trapped by Elizabeth would be no hardship. He said, “It is not a trap if I go willingly.”

  Miss Bingley’s mouth gaped open in astonishment, but he did not stay beside her long enough to hear her response. He did not care what she thought. He did not care what anyone thought.

  He loved Elizabeth Bennet and he would not waste any more time with indecision. He wove through the crowd, looking for Elizabeth.

  “I THINK MR. DARCY IS coming to speak with you, Lizzy,” Lydia said slyly. She had just finished dancing with one officer and Mr. Denny was waiting for the next song.

  Elizabeth saw Darcy approaching from across the candlelit room and wished that a hole would open in the floor of the ballroom so she could disappear. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she said desperately, turning so that her back was towards him.

  “Why not?” Lydia said quietly. “I saw the way he looked at you when you danced together. I think he likes you.”

  “Heaven forbid!”

  Lydia said, “I know you don’t like him, but he is a wealthy man. Doesn’t the prospect of jewels and fine clothes make him a little more attractive?”

  “No,” Elizabeth said hotly. “I hate him. I detest the man. I want nothing to do with him. If only there was a way to avoid him.”

  “Here,” Lydia said, motioning to Mr. Denny. “Take my place. I know Mr. Denny would be happy to dance with you instead, wouldn’t you?”

  Mr. Denny bowed. “It would be an
honour Miss Elizabeth,” he said and held out his hand for her.

  Elizabeth smiled at him and placed her gloved hand in his. “Thank you.” She forced herself not to look over her shoulder and see what Darcy thought of her retreat.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Elizabeth was standing by her twin sister who then joined the dance with an officer. Darcy asked, “Would you care to dance again, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked.

  She looked at him for a moment, considering, then smiled and lifted her chin in a familiar way to challenge him. She said, “I think not. Perhaps later.”

  He said, “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, I am fine,” she said carefully. “But I would like some fresh air. The garden, perhaps?”

  She let her words trail off, and Darcy’s heart pounded. “Excellent idea,” he said and offered her his arm. He could not believe his good fortune as she linked her arm with his. Together they walked around the ballroom and to the French doors that led outside. There were a few other guests outside on the lawn, but they were beyond earshot, so he and Elizabeth would have some privacy.

  He led her towards a row decorative hedges, then turned and faced her, taking one of her hands in his. Although there were some lanterns, her lovely face was half in shadows. He said, “In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  She looked surprised and her face coloured charmingly.

  As she stood silently, he poured out his heart to her. He explained that he had loved her almost from the first time he met her, but that he had fought against his feelings because of her family. He knew that her status in life was less than his own and that some of his friends and family would think he was mad to offer for her. “But it does not matter,” he said. “I don’t care about your relations. I don’t care about your mother or your silly sisters. All I care about is you. Please say that you will marry me and make me the happiest of men.”