Waking to Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Novella

by Leenie Brown

  “And so, we must practice,” she whispered in return, lifting her eyes to his once again. She had not meant to make him feel uneasy, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel decidedly unsettled.

  In response to her comment, he smiled a genuine smile of pleasure. A small dimple on his right cheek caught her attention and nearly made her drop her gaze again. Those nerves that were merely flutters in her stomach marched up to flutter about her chest, causing her to slow her breathing.

  “Indeed, we must practise,” he agreed. “Would you care to direct me in which direction to turn the conversation? Weather, I am afraid, has already been canvassed.”

  Elizabeth’s brows furrowed. “There are music, books, various far off places, news.” She tapped her lip with a finger as she thought of other possible topics of conversation.

  “Books,” said Mary, peeking up from the novel she was reading. “One should always know what a gentleman thinks of books.” She placed a ribbon in her book to mark her place. “Take this one, for instance. It is a novel from a circulating library. Do you find it appropriate for a lady to be reading such a thing?”

  “You are reading a novel?” Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise. Mary did not read novels, did she?

  Mary nodded. “Mr. Collins thought it dreadful that a lady should read such a thing, so I decided I must prove him either right or wrong.”

  “And have you?” queried Darcy. He was finding this Mary to be more and more to his liking.

  “I have, and I believe he is, unsurprisingly, wrong. I have not succumbed to any want of reason for having read it.” She shrugged. “It is merely a tangle of intrigues. Any lady with half a mind and a reasonable understanding of propriety must plainly discern it as such. There may even be much to learn about the human condition through careful examination and discussion of the text.”

  “But that is the concern, if there be one, with such books,” said Darcy. “A lady must own to having the ability to examine, discern, and discuss.”

  Mary nodded her agreement. “Owning to the possession of such skills is not looked on favourably by some, and I fear by condemning the books, rather than exposing them to open discussion, the matter is made more severe, for many a lady will read them in secret and suppose them to be of greater value than they are.”

  “I had not considered it as such,” replied Darcy, Mary was indeed a surprise this evening. He would certainly look forward to her visits.

  Mary shrugged. “The real danger comes in not thinking about this or anything else. To believe without questioning is to be blindly led. One must come to her beliefs in a sensible, carefully considered fashion rather than hopping about as a grasshopper from thing to thing.”

  Elizabeth considered what Mary had said. “Is that why you read the books you do? To verify that what has been said about them is correct?”

  Mary nodded. “I do. I never believe without proof.”

  Elizabeth felt a pang of reproof at such a statement. Had she adhered to such a philosophy, she might not have listened to Wickham, but for all her love of reasoning, there were times that her emotions overcame her sense. “So the sermons and the scriptures are to prove the parson is not in error?”

  Mary nodded. “And the various other books are to be able to listen with some understanding to the things spoken of at gatherings. The gentlemen rarely notice my presence, so I have had many opportunities to discern which men are admirable and which are not.”

  Elizabeth blushed. “I must confess I had not considered why you read sermons to be for that purpose.” Indeed, it seemed there was much she had not considered about her sister.

  “You thought I wished to impress some parson and become his wife?” Mary asked it with a slight laugh in her voice.

  “You do not wish to marry a parson?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Most certainly not!” declared Mary. “I should have to be pleasant to a great many people that I find loathsome. I would prefer to marry an honest gentleman with a modest income.” She rose to pour the tea that had arrived during their discussion. “A small circle of friends, a home, and children to teach, that is all I require.”

  “You shall be a credit to whoever is fortunate enough to catch your eye,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “Indeed,” agreed Elizabeth, looking carefully at Darcy. There was a softness about his features again. He was at ease — and with her sister.

  Mary smiled knowingly as she handed a cup to Darcy. “If a gentleman ever realizes that he has caught my eye.”

  “Ah, so there is a lucky fellow?” Darcy asked with a raised brow.

  The tease took Elizabeth by surprise. Darcy was not only at ease, but he also seemed completely unguarded. She could not keep the pleased smile from her lips.

  “That, I did not say,” said Mary coyly as she handed a cup to her sister.

  “From the glow of her cheeks, I dare say there is,” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “But fret not, I shall not tell Mama or press you to speak more on the subject unless needed to save you from our cousin.”

  “Oh,” said Darcy, taking a sip of his tea, “I was at the ball long enough to hear a story about Mr. Collins.” He smiled at the surprised looks that both sisters gave him. “I do not gossip, but your father requested I relay this tale to you, Miss Elizabeth. He thought you would find it quite diverting, and he thought Miss Mary would find it to be a relief. I gathered that your mother is still attempting to match Mr. Collins with one of her daughters?”

  Both nodded and waited eagerly to hear the story.

  “Mr. Collins has found himself obliged to be engaged,” began Darcy, drawing an exclamation of surprise from both Elizabeth and Mary. “A Miss King was hurrying between stores looking for this and that in preparation for tonight’s festivities, and in her dashing about in an attempt to procure what she needed and avoid the drops of rain, she darted in front of Mr. Collins, who was busy enlightening Sir William on the elegance of Rosings. Mr. Collins, it seems, is as elegant on his feet as he is in his speech and before Sir William could put out a hand to stop him, Mr. Collins walked right into Miss King. She stumbled backward into the wall of the milliner’s shop. Mr. Collins also stumbled and was unable to stop his forward movement until he was pressed up against the same wall with Miss King as a cushion between him and it. Sir William would have attested to the whole incident being nothing more than an unfortunate accident, but then, Mr. Collins, in attempting to extract himself from his present predicament, made it appear worse to those who were passing by the scene. A button on his sleeve caught the edge of her fichu.” He smiled and sipped his tea.

  Mary’s eyes grew wide. “Was it Mrs. Long and Aunt Philips who were passing by?”

  Darcy nodded. “It seems they did not wait for Sir William’s explanation of the situation, and their cries of alarm drew attention. And so, Mr. Collins found himself in the somewhat awkward position of asking for the lady’s hand while trying to untangle her fichu from his sleeve. The matter, I understand, was agreeably settled and Miss King will soon be Mrs. Collins.” His smile faded. “Their story, however, was not the only one I heard being shared. ”

  “My aunt?” asked Elizabeth softly.

  He nodded. “Which brings me to what we need to discuss.” He swallowed the last of his tea. “Our marriage.” He dared not look at her. She had been favourable to him at the cottage, but she had had three days to think.

  Mary rose. “I am not needed,” she said. “It would be better for you to discuss this alone.” She gathered the cups and left the room, leaving the door partially open.

  “I am sorry,” Darcy began. “If there had been any other way for you to receive help…” His voice trailed off.

  “You do not wish to marry me,” said Elizabeth with a nod. The words unexpectedly cutting deeply into her heart.

  “No.” His response was quick. “I am only sorry to have forced you to accept me. I know I am not what you wished.” He gave her a quick sad smile before continu
ing. “Before you stumbled into that cottage, I was preparing to leave Netherfield. I told Bingley it was to be with my sister, which was not untrue, but was also not entirely honest. I knew that if I remained here and continued to be in company with you, my heart was in danger of being irrevocably lost to you.” He took her hand. “I was not wrong. You have my heart. I only hope to one day have yours.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “You love me?”

  He nodded again. He had also had three days to think and to discuss some of his thoughts with his friend. “I do. I have tried not to, but Bingley assures me that my assessments are accurate, and I do love you.” He wished to lift her hand to his lips as he had done that day in the carriage, but he did not. “That you do not return my affections is understandable.” He rose. “I believe we are friends?” He looked at her in question. She nodded, and he continued. “Friendship is not an unstable foundation for marriage.” He looked to her again for confirmation of the fact. “I believe ours shall be a good union. We are well-matched.” His head swayed from side to side as he continued. “Perhaps we are not as well-matched in standing as some would prefer, but that is of little matter. They shall respect you as I do, or they will be cut from my sphere. You will be my wife and as such must have a higher priority.” He smiled at her. “At least that is how I see it. I cannot say that all will agree. While our marriage may be good, life will not be without its difficulties. I have explained to you about my relations.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “You have.”

  “I have written to them about my choosing to marry.”

  “Choosing?” She returned his amused smile with an equally impertinent one of her own.

  “I could have allowed Bingley to tend you,” he said, returning to her side.

  “But he loved Jane,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, there was that,” he admitted taking her hand again. “However, my heart had begun to betray my well-ordered resolve the moment you wandered into the cottage in confusion. It would not have allowed Bingley to tend you. Even then, though I did not know it, it had decided on you.”

  She shook her head in amazement at his declarations. Part of her wished to return them, but she was not entirely certain that in doing so she would be being honest with either herself or him. She knew him to be a good man – the very sort she would wish to marry — and she enjoyed his presence and found herself treasuring the small kind things he did, but an appreciation of character, gratitude, and enjoyment were not love.

  “I have also written to my solicitor, and he expects me in town by week’s end. Bingley has matters to attend to as well, and we will be leaving on Thursday. What you and I must decide before I leave is when we should like the wedding to take place. I do not wish to wrench you away from family and friends before you are ready. However, the longer we wait, the more room we allow for mischief on the part of my Aunt Catherine.” He watched her draw in her bottom lip and furrow her brow in thought. “You do not have to tell me this instance. Bingley and I will call tomorrow to bid our farewells.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. What was that aching in her chest? And why did tears sting her eyes at the thought of his leaving? “Will you return before the wedding?”

  He felt her grip tighten on his hand. “That depends, I suppose, on when the wedding is to take place. I know Bingley will be returning, and I would, no doubt, be invited to return with him. I had intended to bring my sister to Netherfield for Christmas, but knowing Wickham is here, I will not require her to come unless she is willing.”

  Elizabeth nodded sadly. She could not – would not – expect him to subject his sister to the presence of Mr. Wickham, nor would she expect him to be absent from his sister at such a time of year. “Of course,” she agreed.

  “We will marry by special license, so there is very little to restrict us in time or location. The decision is entirely yours.” This time, as he watched her bite her lip and blink rapidly, he did not resist the urge to kiss her hand. “Are you fatigued? Shall I leave?”

  She shook her head. Her body was weary and her mind troubled, but she could not bring herself to ask him to leave.

  And so he did not until after Mary had returned, he had read from each of his books, and Elizabeth’s eyes had fluttered closed for the third and final time. Then, with a bow to Mary and whispered farewell to the sleeping Elizabeth, he departed for Netherfield.

  Chapter 9

  “Lizzy,” said Jane coming into Elizabeth’s bedroom. “You must take a turn around the garden with me. Mama is about to drive me to Bedlam between talk of wedding breakfasts and dinner parties.”

  While thanking Mr. Bingley for his excellent ball and bidding him farewell early that morning, Mrs. Bennet had been struck with the notion of a dinner party in honour of her daughters and their beaus. And so, an invitation to dine at Longbourn had been made and accepted, and Mrs. Hill had set to preparations while the weary dancers were still in their beds. Things were well-in-hand, but still, Mrs. Bennet fluttered about guaranteeing that all was done to her specifications. And when she was not checking on Mrs. Hill’s work, she was wondering aloud about wedding clothes and cakes and pastries. Her daughters’ weddings would be an event that all Hertfordshire would remember for some time. Surely, no other young lady of their acquaintance would be so well-situated. Such rich, handsome men! Such connections! Elizabeth had feigned a headache and retired to her room half an hour ago.

  “The air will help your head,” said Jane with a smile. “You do not wish to be indisposed when Mr. Darcy arrives.”

  “As you well know, my head does not hurt. I just do not have your patience.”

  “I have run out of patience, Lizzy. Please, help me, or I shall become cross and disagreeable,” Jane begged.

  Elizabeth laughed. “You are nearly incapable of becoming disagreeable, my dear sister.”

  Jane took Elizabeth’s pelisse from the wardrobe. “Today, I am quite capable. Where is your warm scarf?”

  There was obviously no answer that Jane would accept aside from a positive one, so Elizabeth donned her coat and wrapped her warm scarf about her neck. Jane was only a moment getting her things and then, the two sisters descended the stairs together.

  “Where are you going?” called their mother from the sitting room as they passed the open door. “Elizabeth is not to exert herself too much. She has only just recovered from a sore throat.”

  “She is dressed warmly, Mama.” Jane smiled and spoke sweetly, and was it not for the tightening of her grip on Elizabeth’s arm, Elizabeth might have been convinced that Jane’s emotions were as peaceful as her expression. “We will not stay out long, and Mr. Sheppard did say that a small amount of exertion would be beneficial. Besides, the air will help Lizzy’s headache. You do not wish her to be ill and unable to attend dinner.”

  Her mother’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, we must not have that. If she is not there, who will speak to that disagreeable man?” She shuddered slightly. “Why you should choose such a dour man over your cousin, I still do not understand. Mr. Collins was such a friendly man. So talkative and obliging.”

  “Mama,” Jane scolded. “Mr. Darcy is a fine gentleman. There is nothing wrong with being quiet.”

  “But he is so,” she wrinkled her nose, “serious. He smiles too little.”

  “He is very pleasant,” said Mary. When her mother turned narrowed eyes towards her, she added, “and he reads very well. You should have heard him reading Shakespeare last night, Mama.”

  “I am not interested in your opinion, Mary. If you had gone to town as I had asked, it would not be Mary King that would be mistress in my place one day. It could have been you. At least your sister had sense enough to throw herself at a gentleman of fortune when dashing my hopes. You shall end up an old maid and have to take some horrid governess position. I shall not have enough to keep both you and me in a proper fashion.”

  “Mama,” Jane scolded once again. “Mary is young, and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will be able to place her in the
way of many good matches.”

  Mrs. Bennet snuffed at the thought. “Kitty and Lydia will be married before Mary. She is so,” she wrinkled her nose again, “serious.”

  “Mary, will you join us?” asked Elizabeth. She could not leave Mary there to suffer more of their mother’s disappointment. Elizabeth had endured such lectures enough to know that no one else deserved to bear them. She also knew that without Jane present, Lydia would join her mother in disparagements, and Kitty would cough nervously but say nothing to help.

  Mary rose.

  “Oh, I am certain I cannot spare her. There are things to be made ready,” protested Mrs. Bennet.

  “Things are well-in-hand, Mama. Besides, if Elizabeth should stumble or suddenly need assistance, I would not be able to both stay with her and seek help.”

  The thought made their mother’s eyes grow wide once again. “Yes, yes, you are right. If Elizabeth is foolish enough to get a headache on a day such as today, she would be foolish enough to stumble. Mary, go get your things and be quick. You mustn’t leave Jane alone with Elizabeth for too long.”

  Jane sighed.

  “Thank you,” mouthed Mary as she slipped past them and hurried up the stairs.

  “I shall ask Mr. Darcy if she can come with us,” said Elizabeth as she and Jane left the house. “She and Miss Darcy might become friends, and I would not miss Hertfordshire so much.” She looked back at Longbourn. “Three weeks?” she asked.

  Jane nodded, a delighted smile spreading across her face. “Unless you care to marry sooner.”

  “If Mama continues as she is, I might insist on traveling to town with Mr. Darcy.” She sighed. “Not that I am in a hurry to marry.”

  “I am happy for you,” said Jane softly. “Mr. Darcy is a good man.”

  “I know he is,” said Elizabeth.

  “Then why do you sigh?”

  “He loves me, Jane.”

  Jane stopped walking and took her sister by the shoulders. “He told you?”