by Tess Quinn
“I must confess that, though the closeness of the hall drove me to seek the air, I am not unmindful of the additional welcome in claiming your company to myself,” said Mr Darcy. “But are you not concerned, madam, for your reputation? Shall I fetch us a proper chaperone to ease your conscience as to my design?”
“Indeed, I take great risk in stealing away with you,” came a light reply from Elizabeth Bennet; “but the greater burden falls upon your shoulders. For if we should be found out, Sir, you would no doubt be obliged to marry me and save my honour, and then where would you be?”
Darcy laughed. “Precisely where I choose to be,” said Darcy, “for all eternity.”
Caroline felt sick at overhearing yet another conversation that could bode no good to her. But even as her limbs became heavy and stiff with dread, she could not but chance to peek around the corner of the wall at the couple. They stood near the stone balustrade, Mr Darcy with his back to Caroline and shielding from view the better part of Elizabeth, who faced him. Caroline could see Miss Bennet’s countenance, though, and the tender look upon it as Mr Darcy reached up a hand to gently lift a loose strand of dark hair from her brow and curl it round his finger.
Drawn against her will, Caroline continued to watch as Elizabeth brought her own hand forward, took up her gentleman’s and, lowering it slightly, placed a kiss upon it before returning her gaze to Mr Darcy’s, an expression of contented joy infusing her features. Caroline struggled not to groan or otherwise give away her awkward position upon witnessing this intimacy.
“Your hand is chilled,” said Mr Darcy, causing Caroline to open eyes she had not remembered squeezing closed, and to behold yet more of the painful scene in front of her. Elizabeth only nodded by way of reply, then smiled at her escort as though they shared a private jest. The full moon which had by now completely cleared itself of cloud cover stood as backdrop to the couple, providing a halo effect around the pair as Mr Darcy slowly bent his head and repaid Elizabeth’s kiss with one lightly placed upon her brow. Afterwards his face remained close as though he would breathe in her essence.
For one awful moment, Caroline believed she might be forced to observe a further intimacy as some natural force drew Mr Darcy’s lips down to those of Miss Bennet; they hovered close while Elizabeth raised her own towards him, each just on the edge of contact. Caroline found herself holding her breath, unwilling to witness this detestable magnetic pull even as she could not look away. She felt a coldness descend that was little related to the temperature of the night.
Finally, after what seemed to Caroline an age, Mr Darcy straightened himself and said, “Forgive me, madam, I forget myself in your presence.” Caroline noted that Elizabeth looked as though no thing required forgiving except Mr Darcy’s control, as he continued to speak. “Shall we return, then, my dear lady? I confess that far greater than my concern at being found to compromise your reputation, is my dread to face your mother’s wrath should you catch a chill and ruin all her careful planning!”
Elizabeth laughed, the sound breaking their intimacy, though an ease of manner still reigned between the two. Caroline noted that though the delicacy of the previous moment had been broken, the couple’s hands still maintained their connexion, Mr Darcy’s long fingers intertwined now with Miss Bennet’s slighter ones at their sides.
“In a moment, yes. But first I would ask something of you.”
“I am yours to command, dear Lizzy.” Even in her misery, Caroline recognized with wry submission the use of that word she had herself introduced in mockery not long before.
“I could not help, Mr Darcy, but overhear something of your converse with Miss Bingley upon returning with her brother from the dance. May I ask what occasioned your admonition to her?”
Darcy looked to the side, disconcertment in his face. He did not speak for a moment before asking a question of his own. “Do you suppose others heard as well? I would not wish to believe our converse to be known generally.”
“No, I am certain it was not. I came upon Miss Bingley directly from behind, and so was privy to your words spent in that direction, but I would swear no others to have had the sense of them. You spoke in a low manner, that very quality being what drew my particular notice as of something you found distasteful.” At Darcy’s continued silence, she added, “Even Mr Bingley who was behind me could not have heard anything of your discourse.”
Darcy released a sigh of small relief and Caroline found herself doing the same in greater measure, even though she cringed to find confirmed that Miss Bennet had overheard.
The pair had turned somewhat so that Caroline saw each in profile now, and she could not help noting that still Mr Darcy held Miss Bennet’s hand. After a brief repetition of Elizabeth’s initial query, Darcy finally replied.
“I should not have spoken so to Miss Bingley,” he said, shaking his head. “It was not my place to do so, but yet I was moved to speech only in the service of my friend Bingley.”
Charles! thought Caroline with confusion, even as Elizabeth mirrored her reaction with words: “Charles? What has Charles to do with it?”
Now Darcy drew his brows together in some puzzlement. “I cannot comprehend your question. For what other reason would I counsel Miss Bingley to make peace with Jane?”
“With Jane!”
“Yes, of course, with Jane. Miss Bingley has determined your sister to be ill-suited to her brother,” – here, Darcy had the grace to look down briefly and a blush rose on his face, just visible in the strength of the moonlight – “and still harbours an animosity towards the lady that can only bring discomfort to Bingley, to Jane, and to all who care for their welfare. And moreover it will not, it cannot bring comfort to Miss Bingley. Better that she attempt to accept your sister and your family, for the peace of all, not least of which for you and me as well.”
Caroline was stunned. She had to fight for breath as she considered the cross purposes of the discourse she had engaged in with Mr Darcy, and its ramifications. He had been talking about Miss Jane Bennet all along, not Miss Elizabeth Bennet. How could Caroline have misunderstood?
Darcy’s confusion deepened as well as Elizabeth began to laugh, his face revealing the opinion that this discourse was becoming all too absurd for him to comprehend. After a moment of sniggering, Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes enlarging as the full import of Darcy’s words assailed her. As suddenly as she began to laugh, it abruptly ended and a look of profound compassion overtook her.
“Oh, Mr Darcy. I fear you have communicated far more in your words to Miss Bingley than you intended.” At his questioning glance, Elizabeth continued. “Miss Bingley, from the look she bore as she scurried away, took your speech as your own rejection of her.”
“What? My own? But…” Darcy appeared totally flummoxed. “Why should I have cause to reject or accept Miss Bingley?”
“Why, indeed! Have you truly not noticed what is so easily visible to all else? That Miss Bingley has had designs on you, on becoming Mrs Darcy? – and for far longer than you have been acquainted with me!” Elizabeth’s face mirrored the amazement of her question.
“Well, no, of course not. I have danced my merry way around that conundrum for near two years! But…” He looked at a loss for thought.
“But?”
“But you and I are betrothed now!” he avowed, as though this simple condition answered all points. When Elizabeth continued to look upon him with a sympathetic, questioning glance, he finished. “Surely that knowledge put paid to any hopes she may have held. It is only logical.”
“Mmmm, logical perhaps, in the mind of a gentleman, a man of honour who does not make promises lightly or deceive his friends. But logic may make itself scarce in the mind of a woman believing herself to be in love and in possession, as she believes, of a good match prospect.”
“Surely not!” he repeated.
Elizabeth smiled, and raised her hand to Mr Darcy’s face, smoothing it gently along his cheek. “My dear Mr Darcy,
how can you be so astute in worldly matters, yet inadequate to understanding the mind of a woman? I shall have to have a care of you in future, I can see.”
“I am not so lacking in discernment as you suggest, Lizzy. I have held off my share of fortune seekers, I assure you, for several years. I cannot believe I have so badly misinterpreted Miss Bingley’s intentions of late. Can you be so certain,” he said with a mischievous smile, “that you do not mistake her out of jealousy?”
“Have I reason to be jealous, Sir?” Elizabeth’s demeanour clearly indicated she knew the answer to her question, but she chose to play Darcy’s game.
“You know that you have not.” She smiled and blushed slightly in spite of her certainty, lowering her eyes as Darcy continued. “I am far too frightened of your tongue when you are cross to try your tolerance!” He laughed as her eyes flashed up to his once again. She allowed herself a smile before returning to the serious nature of their discussion.
“Well, that is as may be, but still it remains that Miss Bingley read your discourse quite differently from your intent.”
Mr Darcy returned to serious disposition as well. “But… Other than the general animosity she has always shown to your family, she has given me no reason to suppose she still carried hopes of a match since her late arrival at Netherfield.”
Again, Elizabeth smiled at him, the curve of her mouth carrying sympathy along with humour. “And did you interpret my behaviour, Sir, upon our first meetings, as that of a woman who would reject the offer of your hand on the first occasion you made it?”
“But I –” Darcy clearly stood at a loss for words. He remained a moment, shaking his head slightly from side to side. Finally, with a chuckle, he conceded the point to Elizabeth Bennet. “No, of course I anticipated no such thing, or I could not have spoken as I did.” He ran a hand over his brow. “And how grateful I am, now, that you did reject me; for I am much the greater satisfied, painful as was the intervening experience, to know that you accept me now from respect and affection.”
“From more than that, you must know – and how grateful am I, Sir, that you condescended to proffer your hand yet again when I had learnt my heart… and humility.” Elizabeth smiled up at Mr Darcy. “But that is hardly germane to our present circumstance.” She laughed and squeezed Mr Darcy’s hand.
Caroline still stood, numb, watching the pair from her protected vantage point and trying to absorb all she had heard. One moment mortified by Mr Darcy’s direct rejection, the next at odds to understand that she had been mistaken in his intent; only to then be forced to concede the evidence before her eyes – that although Mr Darcy had thought himself to be furthering his friend’s cause in speaking as he did to Caroline, yet her initial interpretation was the correct one. There was nothing she could do to damage the affection between this pair who stood before her, that much was plain to see.
She reflected on what she had heard, amazed even in her own current despair to know that Darcy had once been rejected by Miss Bennet before later being accepted. Surely this was his ‘steadfast reason’ for believing Miss Bennet free of mercenary ambitions. Some part of her acknowledged the depth of feeling that would occasion a proud man like Mr Darcy to renew a suit once having been rebuffed. What now was left to Caroline? How would she ever recover from her own defeat?
“What is left to do now?” asked Darcy, and Caroline cringed to hear him speak with different motivation the question she was herself considering. Darcy continued. “How can I apologize to Miss Bingley for my insensate blunder without causing further pain?”
“You cannot,” replied Elizabeth. “You must not.” Darcy looked about to make some objection, but Elizabeth placed a finger lightly upon his mouth to silence him. “I cannot like Miss Bingley, but I have no wish to gloat or to cause her additional discomfort, if only for Charles’s love of her. Were there some way to speak of this with her and correct her impressions without further debasement, I would of course urge you to do so, but none exists. And I am certain you have no wish to cause her embarrassment. You cannot speak of this directly, you know you cannot.”
Darcy nodded. “Yes, yes I know. I will leave it alone, and hope that Miss Bingley comes of her own accord to realize my lack of intention to cause her distress.”
Elizabeth nodded in understanding and cocked her head to one side, a smile of compassion softening her features. “Shall we return to the hall now, before my mother raises an alarm and sends someone to search for us?”
“A moment more, I beg you. There is something I should like to ask you.”
Lizzy’s countenance lit with curiosity in the face of their just-concluded discourse.
“Why have you not told me that mine was not the first offer you received?”
Lizzy’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “How did you --?”
Darcy smiled. “Your mother, by way of Miss Bingley. I understand my future mother-in-law was quite disappointed in your refusing Mr Collins.”
“Indeed, she swore she would not speak to me again in light of it.” Lizzy smiled with an impish wrinkling of her nose.
Darcy’s reaction to this information was not so subtle. He roared with laughter, in between the staccato bursts managing to ask if there was any possibility Mr Collins would offer to him so that he could garner such reprobation, earning like laughter from Miss Bennet.
When the sound had faded from the air, Darcy yet again introduced the topic. “But surely his offer came before mine ever did, and though I find the little man odious and should have had to cause him accident had he gained your support, there is no doubt that marriage with him would have maintained your home. Did you not consider it at all?”
“I did not. I believed then as I believe now, indeed as I have always believed – that only the deepest love could persuade me into matrimony. You know, surely you know… that only the deepest love induced me to accept you.”
Darcy’s answering smile was all any woman could have hoped to see, and Caroline shrank back from witnessing it, in dejection that she had never garnered such a one from this man.
“And now, Sir, I would be pleased if you will escort me indoors yet again. For I am not so well clothed as you to endure this autumn night.”
Mr Darcy lowered his voice and suggested that, were he less of a gentleman, he could conjure some activity to warm them both even in this chilled climate. At Elizabeth’s feigned indignation, they laughed together as Darcy offered the lady his arm.
~~~~~~
Caroline remained in her alcove, heedless of the frigid air, for some minutes after Mr Darcy and Miss Bennet had re-entered the Assembly. A plethora of images whirled into a vortex in her mind without her being able to settle on any one for conscious consideration; until she found centre enough to rouse herself for simple motion. Finally, her joints stiffened from the chill embedded in them, she made her way carefully to the doors, glanced within for a moment to ensure that she might enter without being observed, then made her way towards the cloak room as per the plan she had devised what seemed hours ago.
She was fortunate not to meet with anyone immediately, and had only moments to wait until, having sent a footman to seek Louisa, her sister joined her in the hexagonal entry. It was while awaiting her sister that a violent shivering set in, though Caroline could not separate whether from the acute change in temperature from the cold of outdoors to the candlelit and warmed interior, or from the trepidations that assaulted her at every turn.
~~~~~~
Louisa found Caroline leaning against the entry wall as if only its solidity held the trembling woman standing. She called to the retreating footman to immediately fetch a chair for the lady, before returning her attentions to her sister. She noted that Caroline’s complexion had gone near white as chalk. This combined with the violence of her trembling convinced Louisa that Caroline had suffered a relapse of her earlier indisposition.
“I will send for the apothecary immediately!” cried Louisa, as the footman reappeared with a chair and Caro
line sank to it with relief. “I believe he may be in attendance tonight.”
“No, I beg you,” replied Caroline. “Only secure my cloak for me, to help my chill, and call for the carriage. I need simply to gain my rooms to feel myself again.”
Louisa made to argue the point, but Caroline shook her head violently. In a low voice to her sister, she said “I do not wish to be made a spectacle here, Louisa. Please… the carriage.”
Mrs Hurst acquiesced, comprehending the reasoning; and concern for Caroline uppermost in her mind, not wishing to further agitate the invalid. Though she held some anxiety about the carriage ride home, she would not gainsay Caroline’s choice. She nodded her agreement, then asked if Caroline could tolerate being alone for a moment while Louisa arranged their departure. Caroline closed her eyes, sighed in relief, and answered shortly in the affirmative.
Louisa secured Caroline’s cloak and sent for the carriage to be brought to the entrance, then went in search of the gentlemen in their party. It was only after she had gone that Caroline worried of a sudden that those same gentlemen might feel the obligation to return to Netherfield with her. She was filled with unaccountable relief and gratitude towards Louisa when her sister returned with only Mr Hurst as companion. A moment later, the three were seated in the moving carriage, a rug wrapped around Caroline to add further warmth as their conveyance took them with her gratitude towards home.
Louisa would, of course, have travelled with her sister in any case, something in the younger woman’s demeanour suggesting that she was in deep distress despite her assurances that she was better and needed only rest. Aubrey Hurst had had quite enough of the Assembly, having lost some amount at cards, and had declared himself in need of a good quality whiskey and some light victuals. As useless as he would be in any sort of emergency, yet Louisa was glad her husband was with her for this ride.