by April Karber
! #*! Seeing the darkness settle in around Darcy’s expression, she sought to draw him out again. “The library at Pemberley I’ve heard is remarkable.”
“It is, but again I am biased in saying so. It is the work of many generations, and I take every opportunity to add to the collection.”
“I envy you the opportunity, Mr. Darcy. Pray, what type of books do you find most necessary to your collection?”
“It is difficult to pick one particular genre, however, it is equally as difficult to rule out any particular genre.”
“When a library is as varied as a book shop, it cannot fail to appeal to everyone.”
“Or anyone in any state of mind.”
This statement worked to reinforce her opinion of him, that he was a man of many moods.
Chapter 11 When Jane was again well enough to travel, Elizabeth set about making arrangements for their immediate departure. She had arranged for the Bennet carriage to retrieve them, and that their maid be brought with it to see to Jane’s appearance be tended to after such a long time spent in bed. Elizabeth was so busy, in fact, that she barely had time to worry over missing Netherfield, or rather, one of its occupants. Truthfully, she had spent most of the night dwelling on that fact and had been left with little time for sleep.
Elizabeth ventured downstairs to meet their maid at the door when she heard the carriage arrive, and found Darcy nearby.
“Perhaps while she tends to your sister, you would enjoy a last stroll in the garden? You have been busy all morning.” How he’s changed! What did this kindness mean? She did not let herself dwell on the question for too long. She had determined her feelings for him the night before; they were none other than those involved in a friendship. She did not know him well, after all. In fact, he had just recently been known as a haughty and proud individual, too arrogant to even be introduced to her, so she could not so easily accept this new side of him. Mr. Darcy was not what every man ought to be, but she appreciated his company. His recent alteration had made him more interesting, she realized, and she desired to know him better as she already liked what she so far knew of him. She thought that perhaps this sudden kindness was due to her initial disdain of him. From what she could see of his relationship with Caroline, she was sure that he was bothered by many other eligible women and thought that his dourness was an attempt to ward them away. Since she had so eagerly made it clear that she was not interested in him, perhaps he had lowered his guard because he did not feel threatened. Either way, she was grateful for it, but was saddened by the thought that if this was his true nature, that it would likely remain hidden from the rest of the world. Most of all, she had become quite accustomed to insightful conversation, and she would lament its absence. It would all be ribbons, bows, and lace once she returned home.
“Now I cannot help but notice the abundance of violets,” Elizabeth laughed, looking around her at the flowers once they were outside.
! $+! “I believe even my sister might find it a little too excessive,” Darcy mused, “but she will love to hear about them.”
Elizabeth saw his face cloud over when he mentioned his sister, distracted by his thoughts. She did not know what haunted him when it came to his sister, but she was eager to put him at ease.
“I am exceedingly glad that we have been able to enjoy each other’s company. I’d like to think that we have become friends, Mr. Darcy.” She had wanted to say this, but hearing them tumble from her mouth made them all sound silly. She was nervous, she realized, lest he disagree with her. Did the proud Mr. Darcy have any friends besides Mr. Bingley?
“Friends, Miss Elizabeth?” Is that all? His expression became too serious for Elizabeth’s liking and she regretted saying anything. Darcy did not know whether to feel relieved that he was now unburdened of disappointing her hopes or whether he was disappointed that she felt nothing for him.
Now, she could think of nothing but changing the direction of conversation. “That is, if I am in fact tolerable enough to be considered so.” She narrowed her eyes at him, lest he return to being serious, and she intensified her glare when his expression went from uncomfortable to guilty.
“Madam, I will prove it by begging for the pleasure of your company for two dances at the upcoming ball. That is, if you are not otherwise engaged or inclined.” Why do I feel so disappointed when I should be grateful? If I had any reason to suspect that Miss Elizabeth had feelings for me, I would feel… His mind drew a blank. Would I feel guilty? Why would I feel guilty?
“I am not, and I happily accept,” Elizabeth found herself lost in his dark eyes. Darcy, too, found himself lost in hers, and so did not hear Bingley approaching and attempted to continue. “It has long been since I have considered you one of the most bea…” he was cut off by Bingley before he could finish.
“Miss Elizabeth! The carriage is waiting.” Elizabeth fixed Bingley with a smile and turned to follow him into the house. Darcy cursed silently and caught up to her. She glanced sideways at him, noting his distress.
“Do not fret, Mr. Darcy, you can finish whatever it was you were going to say while we dance. It will not do to stay silent together for a half hour together, we must have conversation.”
“And so you must have laughing, Miss Elizabeth.” He took her hand gently and brought it to his lips, grazing her knuckles for slightly longer than necessary. A great, warm fluttering ran through her entire body, her cheeks pinked, and the spot where his lips touched her skin burned from the sensation.
“Until the ball, Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed and left her. She found herself in the carriage minutes later, not knowing how she got there, not remembering coming in from the garden or exiting the house. All she knew was the burning on her hand, and the beating of her heart.
Chapter 12
! $"! The quiet that fell upon Netherfield upon the Bennets leave was most distressing to two individuals.
“It is such a shame that they could not have extended their stay!” cried Bingley, watching the carriage pulling away from an upper window.
“I do not recall a time before the Miss Bennets stayed her, Charles. It was quite long enough.” Caroline droned.
“Are you quite sure Miss Bennet was well enough to travel?” Bingley asked no one in particular.
“It is a matter of three miles,” Miss Bingley retorted. “Surely if Miss Eliza can manage it on foot, a recovered Jane Bennet can manage it in a carriage. It is a pity that Miss Bennet could not attend to us at meals, I quite favor her company over Miss Eliza’s.”
“How could you say such a thing? Miss Elizabeth was lively company,” Bingley shot back at his sister, causing Darcy to involuntarily chuckle knowing that both brother and sister would have preferred the company of the eldest Miss Bennet.
“What is so humorous, Darcy?” demanded Bingley, but Darcy was not given a chance to answer.
“He was laughing at your attempt to defend Miss Eliza,” Caroline explained on his behalf. “She is a shrewd little thing and nothing like her sister.”
“I quite agree that she is nothing like her sister,” Darcy afforded her, “but she has equally favorable qualities to recommend her.”
Caroline’s eyes widened considerably but recovered soon enough, saying, “Mr. Darcy, you have a dark sense of humor.”
“Well I for one look forward to seeing all the Bennets at our Netherfield Ball,” chimed in Bingley, and further discussion was discontinued.
“I hope it was not too dreadful, Lizzy,” Jane said to Elizabeth once the carriage began down Netherfield’s drive.
“Jane, you are far too concerned for everyone’s sake. I had a lovely time, I only wish you could have spent time with us. I am so glad you’re better, and it is wonderful to be heading home.”
“What of Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked, causing Elizabeth to blush furiously.
“It was a surprise to see Mr. Darcy again. But it proved to be a pleasant surprise, and I hope it continues to be so.”
“That is a relief! I suppos
e you would have been miserable otherwise.”
“I suppose,” Elizabeth smiled and took Jane’s hand in hers.
At Longbourn, time did not pass quickly enough for anyone’s taste, and any task that was taken on, was done so in light of the upcoming ball. Elizabeth and Jane returned home to find that Charlotte Lucas had become quite a permanent fixture in the Bennet household as the constant companion of their cousin. Lizzy still wondered at Charlotte’s patience with the man, but was grateful that the distance the arrangement allowed her would prevent Collins from securing her company at the ball.
There were other visitors as well, lured home by Kitty and Lydia. These were soldiers from the regiment stationed at Meryton, of whom the most frequent visitors were ! $#! young Denny and Wickham. Mrs. Bennet was beside herself with all of the commotion what with the upcoming ball, the presence of Mr. Collins, and the constant stream of soldiers in her home, and so mostly stayed locked up in her room struck with nerves.
So it was decided, or rather naturally happened in this way, that Jane would look after her mother and Charlotte keep company with Mr. Collins, while Lizzy attempted to curb the silliness of her two youngest sisters amongst the company of uniformed men.
Kitty and Lydia, fueled by their attention from the officers, became so trying that Lizzy quite envied the task of Jane, and at times, would have traded Charlotte for the company of Mr. Collins. But Wickham, she soon discovered, was very pleasurable company. He had easy manners, a pleasing smile, and was in every way a gentleman. Elizabeth easily forgot her task to monitor her sisters in his company, and she felt more at ease in his company than with any other before.
During an errand to town one morning, while Wickham was accompanying the Bennet sisters to their destination, Elizabeth noticed Bingley and Darcy exiting a shop they had just passed. Before she could acknowledge them, Bingley excitedly drew Darcy’s attention to them and she saw him stiffen at the sight of Wickham and then retreat back into the shop. Wickham noticed her distraction but did not see Darcy. Elizabeth didn’t know whether or not to trust her eyes.
“Are you alright, Miss Elizabeth?” Wickham asked.
“I am, Mr. Wickham. I wonder, I know that the militia have been invited to the Netherfield Ball, will you be in attendance?” She was not wholly ashamed for hoping that he would seek to secure at least one dance with her.
“Oh, indeed you must come, Mr. Wickham!” squealed Lydia.
“I intend to go, yes,” his answer sent Lydia and Kitty into hysterics, “but I regret being unfamiliar with the host. His name is Bingley, is it not? He must be a most gracious gentleman to have invited so many people he is unfamiliar with.”
“He is indeed,” Elizabeth answered, “but his manners are so easy that I daresay he will be well acquainted with all in attendance by the end of the evening. His sister Miss Bingley and his friend Mr. Darcy will also act as hosts.” She risked a glance at Wickham and saw his complexion turn instantly white at the mention of Darcy. My eyes did not deceive me.
“Darcy of Pemberley?” he choked.
“Yes, are you familiar with him?” she was beside herself with curiosity.
“Indeed, my family has been connected with his for ages. My late father was his father’s steward. We grew up together, Darcy and I.” He slowly returned to his normal self with some notable effort.
“How fortunate you will be reunited then,” she coaxed.
“I am afraid it will not be a happy reunion. You see, I am afraid we have drifted apart since his father’s death.” He looked so sad in that moment that Elizabeth wholeheartedly regretted pressing the subject.
“I am sorry, Mr. Wickham. That is a shame.”
“That is not the half of it, Miss Elizabeth.”
His lively looks returned, he shocked Elizabeth with a terrible story of how his inheritance and prospects were stripped away from him, how he was forced to join the militia as a means of income as soon as Darcy became Master of Pemberley. Elizabeth
! $$! could not but believe the sincerity of the man in front of her. He was indeed harmed, frightened, and haunted by his former master. His claim that it was jealousy that lost him his position, however, she did not quite believe. She had never glimpsed anything of jealousy in Darcy’s character. Pride, yes, ridiculous pride she had viewed. She trusted that Darcy had different reasons for denying Wickham his position, even though she was sure he had no right to do so. She felt for Wickham, he had never been anything but charming and attentive. Now that I know Mr. Darcy better, what am I to make of this story? It could all be true, she realized. Neither man, in truth, did she know well enough to believe.
“Will this affect your stay in the area, Mr. Wickham?” Her voice betrayed her concern.
“His home is Pemberley, he can banish me from nowhere but there.”
Elizabeth shivered involuntarily as his eyes met hers. She found them as open and engaging as his character and expression. Pale blue, shining, and difficult to forget.
Elizabeth sought the solitude of her childhood swing and repeated Wickham’s story over and over again in her head. She felt that something could not be right about it, she was sure that some part of it was left out. When she was not occupied with his story, she was occupied by the lovely memory of his smile and warm blue eyes. Soon, however, the light blue eyes faded into deep dark blue pools with a depth that she had never seen anywhere else before. How could Wickham’s eyes seem so dull in comparison? Why had Darcy’s eyes struck her so?
Darcy paced back and forth in the Netherfield library. He slammed his wrist on the desk. Wickham! Will I never be free of him? Has he not done enough? He could not stand the memory of his walking so close to Elizabeth, and in such a familiar way.
Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts that she did not hear the approach of her cousin until it was too late.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. I am glad to find a moment alone with you,” Mr. Collins preached.
She shuddered as his eyes combed over her figure. She grieved that there was no proper reason she could deny him a dance at the ball in two day’s time, for she was sure that was his aim. She could not bring herself to reply, and so said nothing.
“In light of the upcoming ball, Miss Elizabeth, I would like to secure your hand…”
“I’d be honored, Mr. Collins, of course I’ll dance with you. I’m sure my sisters will be honored as well,” she said it quickly so as to end her agony, but Mr. Collins was taken aback by her answer.
“Dancing, yes, Miss Bennet, but I have a more…permanent question on my mind this morning. I had hoped, well, I would be delighted if you would allow me to introduce you at the Netherfield Ball… as my intended.”
“What!” Elizabeth let her surprise escape before she could help herself.
Darcy remained sick with frustration. The only solution he could live with was warning Miss Elizabeth of Wickham’s character. Surely he would not offer the entire ! $%! story of his dealings with Wickham, that was too personal, but he could at least reveal the account of the man’s debts and gambling. He set off to Longbourn right away, unable to wait.
When Darcy arrived, Collins was well into detailing the kindness of Lady Catherine, his intention of coming to Longbourn to secure one of his cousins as his wife, and assuring Elizabeth that he was not hurt by her refusal at all, as he well understood that ladies do not seek to seem too eager at the prospect of matrimony in order that they maintain their natural delicacy.
Darcy had walked to Longbourn in order to collect himself and regain his calm before an interview with Miss Bennet, but found his attention roused by an argument on the side of the house between the lady and her cousin. Not wishing to eavesdrop, he attempted to skirt the scene and head towards the house, but was forced to hide from view when Miss Elizabeth stood up and began pacing.
“I am not the sort of person that says one thing and means another, Mr. Collins!” “Elizabeth, I did not mean that at all.”
“Mr. Collins, kindly remember
that I am Miss Elizabeth or Miss Bennet to you,
and just so I am made perfectly clear, will never to you be anything else!” Darcy could feel her anger from yards away. If the situation had not been so trying on Miss Elizabeth, he would have rather liked to enjoy seeing Mr. Collins thus put down. He considered stepping between them if things got more heated but did not for a second doubt Elizabeth’s ability to tell Mr. Collins off.
“Perhaps I should have made my intentions clear to you earlier, Miss Elizabeth. I had not intended to propose for another few weeks but with the upcoming ball I had thought it would be a perfect time to make the announcement.”
“As I have said repeatedly, our wishes do not align at all and if you have any compassion, you will never speak of yours to me again.” She closed her eyes tightly and made her way to the house, Mr. Collins in tow, never ceasing his begging.
Darcy watched them disappear into the house and just straightened himself to follow them, albeit a most inappropriate time, when Elizabeth sprang from the house and made her way back to the swing, this time followed by a shrieking Mrs. Bennet and a very stern Mr. Bennet not far behind. Darcy ducked out of sight again, cursing his luck and hoping that he would not be discovered. He attempted to review what it was he wished to say to Miss Elizabeth if he had a chance to speak with her, but was too caught by the conversation between her and her parents.
“I cannot marry him! You cannot make me!” Elizabeth hissed. “You ungrateful child!” Her mother roared. “You will marry him or I shall never speak to you again!”
“Father, please.” Elizabeth asked quietly. Darcy held his breath, unable to stand the thought of Elizabeth being forced into marrying Collins. His chest ached at the thought and he waited for Mr. Bennet’s reply as if his life depended on it.
“Elizabeth, from now on you must be a stranger to one of your parents,” he started.
“Indeed!” chirped Mrs. Bennet and she stalked back and forth.
“For if you do not marry Collins, your mother will never see you again, and I will never speak to you again if you do.”