by Zoë Burton
Within a few minutes, Mrs Bennet could be heard entering the house, her shrill voice proclaiming her triumph in having two daughters so well set. She bustled into the dining room, scanning the tables and interrogating Mrs Hill, to make sure all the arrangements were complete.
Mrs Bennet had experienced a range of emotions upon learning of the engagements of her two eldest daughters. She was overjoyed for Jane. She was completely bewildered by Lizzy’s engagement. There was much she did not understand about it. Firstly, why anyone as rich as Mr Darcy would want to marry her wildest daughter; and secondly, why Lizzy would want to marry such a proud, disagreeable man. Attempts had been made to explain these things to her, but Mrs Bennet was of a mean understanding, and soon gave up her attempts at comprehension and focused on the pin money and carriages Lizzy would have.
She tried very hard to convince the couple to host the family in London for the next season with little success. Elizabeth seemed strangely resistant to the idea. Did she not want her younger sisters to share in her good fortune? How were they to meet other rich men if she did not host them? When she took her concerns to her husband, he merely stated that what the Darcys chose to do was out of his purview. It was really quite vexing! Well, she thought, I am sure I will have more success asking Jane. She is always obedient! I may have lost that battle, but I will win the war! And so began her campaign to sway her eldest daughter to bend to her will.
Following the Bennets into the dining room were the Gardiners. Having witnessed and supervised the reconciliation between Jane and Bingley, and approved the beginnings of the courtship of Darcy and Elizabeth, they were unsurprised at the results. They felt the girls had each made a very good match with the man who perfectly met their needs. They were pleased to have played such an important part in their nieces’ lives. They had already been invited by Darcy and Elizabeth to visit Pemberley later in the summer, an offer they had every intention of accepting.
Other guests began to slowly enter. Following her daughter and nearly the last was Darcy’s Aunt Catherine. She had asked upon her arrival at Netherfield yesterday for an audience with her nephew, his betrothed, and Mr Bennet. She had humbled herself before them, apologizing for her previous actions in attempting to prevent the marriage. Though still angry to varying degrees, the three chose to forgive her after perceiving her sincerity.
Darcy House, London
Early July
“Darling,” asked Darcy as he entered his wife’s dressing room, “are you certain we must attend this ball?”
The young couple had been married for just a week, and had spent every day of that time ensconced in their rooms, enjoying all the activities that married couples everywhere took pleasure in. Not all of their time was spent in bed, of course. They spent time cuddled in front of the fire, reading and talking. They debated a whole host of topics, from poetry to philosophy. They discussed current events. They even shared a bath a few times. All meals were taken in their rooms; no one beyond their personal servants saw them for a se’ennight, until tonight. Tonight, Lady Matlock was hosting a ball in their honour. It was to be Elizabeth’s introduction to Society, and neither was particularly looking forward to it, other than for the opportunity to dance together.
“Yes, my love, we must. Your aunt is eager to present us as a couple, and it truly will lay the foundation for my acceptance when we return for the Season next year.” Elizabeth stood from her dressing table, turned, and looked at Darcy with sympathy and love in her eyes. Tenderly, she asked, “Are you not eager to stand up with me for a set?”
Darcy, reaching her as she stood behind her stool, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her to his chest. “Oh, yes, indeed I am. That is the only reason we are not in bed at this very moment. It will be months before we have another opportunity to dance together. I am eager to show you off to all my London acquaintance.”
Elizabeth laughed and hugged his middle tightly. “At least those still in Town, yes?”
Darcy squeezed her. “Yes, minx.” Leaning down, he kissed her lingeringly. “Mmmm. You are delicious.” He kissed her again, deepening it and losing himself in the feelings the activity elicited.
Elizabeth recognized the danger of continuing on the course they were heading down. “Thank you; your taste is delightful, as well, but we must discontinue before we are so distracted from our goal that we fail to attend. I would hate to disappoint your aunt. She has been so supportive of us.”
Darcy sighed deeply before reluctantly responding. “I know. I am sorry. Come, Sweetheart, let us go now, before I throw you on that bed and forget all about dancing in public.”
Elizabeth giggled into her hand at his words, tucking her free one into the crook of the elbow he held out to her.
Later, at Matlock House, the couple got their opportunity to dance with each other. Darcy was incredibly proud of Elizabeth. She had dazzled most everyone she had met. Her poise, wit, and good humour combined with sparkling eyes and ready smile had endeared her to all who took the time to speak with her. Her beauty and fashionable gown in white and lavender inspired the ladies, who immediately inquired as to the name of her modiste, giving her an opening to begin conversation.
Of course, there were those who disliked her without bothering to get to know her. Some were jealous single ladies and their mothers, others were Peers with set ideas about social expectations. In marrying a lady of lower consequence, Darcy had set their ideas upside down, and they did not respond well. Many understood the significance of the bouquets of dried lilac and lavender that decorated the ballroom, but it did not make a difference to them. Marrying for love was simply not done in their circles. In time, Elizabeth would win over many of these Lords and Ladies, but there were some who would never accept her.
None of this bothered the Darcys in the least. Each felt they had found their soulmate, and the opinions of those so wholly unrelated to them mattered not.
Mr. Darcy’s Love
Acknowledgments
First, I thank Jesus Christ, my Savior and Guide, without whom this story would not have been told. I love you!
I also wish to thank my beta for this story, J. Dawn King, who did a fabulous job, and my writing buddies, Rose and Leenie, who continue to stretch me and keep me on the straight and narrow, writing-wise. You rock!
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Bennet was offended. Her new neighbor at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley, had brought his family and houseguest to the Meryton Assembly this evening, and the guest, a Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, had just now insulted her. Not handsome enough to tempt him, she thought. Just who does he think he is? Rather stuck on himself, isn’t he? He should look in a mirror to see how high in the air he puts his nose. How could he possibly see past the end of that appendage? If he is not careful, he might fall and trip and break it! Seeing her good friend, Charlotte Lucas, standing a short distance away from Mr. Darcy, on the other side, she rose from her seat to share both his words and her thoughts with her oldest companion. Laughing to herself at her own wit, she brushed past the object of her derision. She took no more than two steps beyond him when disaster struck in the form of Miss Amanda Jennings.
Miss Jennings was thirty and quite firmly on the shelf. She was the youngest of her parents’ seven children. Her birth had been a surprise to them. Her next oldest sibling, a brother currently serving in the Navy, was twelve years older. Her only sister had married long ago and had children of her own.
Miss Jennings’ parents tried to do their best by her. She had a come out ball and was presented to the monarch at seventeen. She danced and flirted and truly enjoyed every outing for several seasons. Many men caught her eye during that time, but for some reason, she did not catch theirs. As reality began to set in that she was likely to remain single forever, she began to fall into despair. To deal with it, she began to sip sherry every night. And, when there was an event to attend, Miss Jennings more than sipped. She often awoke the morning following a ball or other gathering with
an aching head and heaving stomach.
On this particular night, she had been at the punch rather heavily. Since it had been several years since she had been invited by a gentleman to dance a reel, she tended to wander the edges of the dance lines, leaving her open to being bumped about. As she wandered past the tall man who was visiting the new occupant of Netherfield Park, she staggered too close to the dancers. One of the enthusiastic participants stepped back into her, sending her careening to the side. She fell, landing on something soft, before bouncing off to hit the floor with a thump. Dizzy at the suddenness of the motion, she closed her eyes and gave into the darkness at the edge of her vision.
~~~***~~~
Elizabeth did not know what hit her. She was walking past Mr. Darcy, smirking at her own joke when she was suddenly pushed from behind, landing in an awkward heap on the floor. Her head bounced off the hard wood, as her left arm twisted and slid painfully. Her body landed on top of it, pinning her damaged limb beneath her. She lay there, stunned, not even able to recognize the voice urgently calling her name and asking about her health.
Events seemed to happen in slow motion. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy had watched in disbelief as the drunken woman had hurtled into Miss Elizabeth Bennet, knocking the young lady to the floor. His shock prevented him from moving at first, but when he realized Miss Elizabeth was herself unmoving, he rushed to her side. It was a stillness borne of injury. As he called her name, rolling her over so he could assess her condition, others began to gather; some to help Miss Elizabeth, others to take care of the cause of the accident. Darcy could see a lump forming on Elizabeth’s forehead, so he deduced she had struck it when she fell. Her eyes were open but unfocused.
“Miss Elizabeth?” No response. “Miss Elizabeth? Can you hear me?” He watched her eyes blink slowly before she first moaned, then attempted to lift her head. “No, no. Do not move. Your family will be here soon to care for you. Rest.” He looked up, trying to see who amongst those gathered might be related to her, when Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennet made their way through the crowd. He heard the blonde beauty exclaim her sister’s name then watched her drop unceremoniously to the floor to chafe Miss Elizabeth’s hands.
“Bingley,” Darcy called to gain his friend’s attention. “Perhaps you might find Miss Elizabeth’s parents.”
“Capital idea, Darcy! I shall do so now.” Mr. Bingley was as good as his words. He rushed away immediately to locate Mr. and Mrs. Bennet.
Turning to Jane, Darcy asked, “Is there somewhere we might take your sister for some privacy?”
Worriedly, Jane responded, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for your consideration. There is a small room across the hall and down a bit that contains a settee she could recline on. Lizzy will be terribly embarrassed to be exposed like this.”
Nodding, Darcy replied, “Do you think she would mind being carried? She is not lucid enough to walk on her own yet, nor is she answering our queries. I would be happy to transport her to the room you mentioned.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, that is very kind of you,” Jane responded. She was worried about appearances, but her sister’s health was far more important at the moment. With her as chaperone and her parents soon to be joining them, she could see that his suggestion was the best option. “On Lizzy’s behalf, I give you permission to do so.”
Immediately, Darcy carefully lifted Miss Elizabeth off the floor and rose with her in his arms. He carried her easily, as her form was light and pleasant. Darcy followed Miss Bennet down the hallway, pausing at the threshold of the room to look down at his burden. He was struck by her eyes and how much dimmer they were at this moment than they had been just a few minutes ago. He began to regret his impulsive words to Bingley, words that rejected her as a dance partner. Such behavior was beneath him, and if his mother were alive and in attendance, she would be beyond disappointed with him.
Moving inside the sitting room, Darcy gently laid Miss Elizabeth on the settee, stepping back to allow her sister space to tend her. He looked around, and seeing a chair nearby, dragged it over for Miss Bennet to sit on. It was at this point that Mr. Bennet entered the room.
Walking quickly to Jane’s side, her father demanded, “What has happened?”
“I do not know, Papa. There was a commotion behind the dancers, and everyone began to congregate there. When I heard Lizzy’s name, I rushed into the crowd and found her lying on the floor, with Mr. Darcy kneeling beside her.”
Mr. Bennet had noticed that gentleman in the room when he entered, and now stood straight and turned to him. “Mr. Darcy,” he greeted, bowing. “Can you tell me what happened to my daughter?”
“Yes, sir, I can. Miss Elizabeth had just walked past me when she was crashed into by another lady. I have not been introduced to this other woman, so I do not know her name, but she is just a little taller than Miss Elizabeth and wore a cap.”
“A cap, you say?” At Darcy’s nod, Mr. Bennet continued. “So she was married or a spinster. That narrows it down very little, I’m afraid. Unless you happened to notice her age?”
“No, sir, but she was wearing a drab color…a shade of green. Olive green, I would say.”
“Miss Jennings! I am sure of it! Did she stagger, that you saw?”
“I am afraid I did not see her movements before the accident, but I do recall hearing that name—Jennings—exclaimed as I knelt beside your daughter.”
“Miss Jennings,” Bennet spat in disgust. “Always in her cups. Now it comes back to haunt us all for allowing it.” He thanked Mr. Darcy, adding, “Your quick action to remove my Lizzy to a quieter place, away from prying eyes is greatly appreciated, sir.”
“If I may, sir, I should like to call on Miss Elizabeth tomorrow or the day after and check on her.”
“You would be quite welcome, Mr. Darcy.” Bowing, the men separated, Bennet to tend his second eldest child and Darcy to return to the ballroom, thinking about all that had occurred in this short time period. As he entered, he was accosted by Miss Caroline Bingley, his friend’s unmarried sister.
“Where did you disappear to, Mr. Darcy?” she asked with a flirtatious smile. “You have missed the excitement!”
“Have I? What excitement was that?”
“Why, one of these darling creatures was inebriated and staggered into one of the Bennet ladies, who promptly sprawled herself all over the floor in a very unladylike manner.” She sniffed. “The residents here are all quite common.”
Darcy held in a sigh at Miss Bingley’s distorted view of the event. It was a habit of hers, a particularly unattractive one, to either twist events to fit her perspective or ignore the facts to suit her purposes. She was even known to make up her own facts, in the absence of any real ones. He knew she was not that different from any other woman of the society he inhabited. He also suspected she had set her cap at him, but this and other of her characteristics ensured he would never offer for her. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of being tied to a shrew like her for the rest of his life. Though he knew it was likely a useless venture, he attempted to correct her understanding of the accident involving Miss Elizabeth.
“Actually, Miss Bennet was not sprawled. She was completely covered, to her ankles, and may have a serious injury. It really is not a basis for humor, Miss Bingley.” He finished his speech with a glare at his companion. He bowed to her before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving her with a quizzical expression.
As he walked away, Darcy worked to keep his annoyance under good regulation. He wondered if he was ever going to find a woman with accomplishments and intelligence who was also kind and sweet-tempered. Miss Elizabeth’s face flashed across his mind.
Chapter 2
The next morning, Elizabeth awoke in pain. Between her arm and her head, she was certain something was going to fall off before too much longer. She tried to move, to roll over to her side in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, moaning as she did. The noise awoke Jane, who immediately asked how she was feeling.
&n
bsp; “Like I was thrown from a horse. What happened to me?”
“Do you not remember? I explained it to you three times last night,” Jane asked worriedly.
Furrowing her brow and searching her memory, Elizabeth could not for the life of her remember what happened to her arm. The last thing she could recall was the Bingley party being introduced to theirs. “I am sorry, Jane, truly. I cannot think what it was.”
Patiently, her sister related the story once again. This continued memory loss concerned her. She would be sure to mention it to Papa and to Mr. Jones, the apothecary, when he stopped to check on Lizzy.
“Mr. Darcy carried me?” Elizabeth was mortified at the thought.
“Yes, but it was better that he did than for you to lay there for all of Meryton to see. Do you not agree?”
Reluctantly, she admitted that to be the case. After a few more questions, she was getting tired once more. Jane helped her sit up and take a cup of willow bark tea, settled her back against the pillows, and left her to rest, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Later in the morning, when she next awoke, Mr. Jones was examining her arm.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes! How are you feeling, my dear?” Mr. Jones had been the apothecary in Meryton since long before the Bennet girls were born and had been taking care of them since their respective deliveries. He was quite fond of them, especially the eldest two.
“I have felt better, sir.”
Mr. Jones chuckled. “I should imagine so! ‘Tis not every evening a young lady is mown over as though she were a field of hay!” After the laughter caused by this statement had died down, he continued, “How badly does it hurt? Are you able to move it at all?”
Gingerly, Elizabeth moved her arm up and down. When he asked permission, she allowed the apothecary to manipulate it himself to get a better idea of the precise range of motion she had.