When Mr. Darcy Met Lizzy

by Mary-Anne Seaton

  The frown of displeasure upon the said beauty's face went unnoticed by Sir William as he grabbed her hand and placed it in Darcy's who noticed the frown greatly. Elizabeth drew back her hand as if it was placed on hot coals. She expressed her discontentment to Sir William in some agitation.

  "Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

  Darcy heard the unspoken words that ended her gentle censure- "...least of all, not Mr. Darcy."

  "But I would have asked had he not beat me to it," Fitzwilliam embellished. He knew that every woman liked to be flattered but apparently not Elizabeth. The look she pointed in his direction was so disbelieving that he grinned his contrite.

  "But you did not," she said, "and even if you had, I would still have refused."

  Sir William deemed to intercede on his companion's behalf here to no end but Miss Elizabeth remained uncommonly adamant in her refusal; finally excusing herself most politely. Sir William soon followed suit, granting Darcy respite of the undesired company at long last.

  Lest he be besieged by other unwanted company, Darcy took himself to a quiet corner of the room. There he stood alone thinking again of Miss Elizabeth and what he knew of her when Miss Bingley came upon him. From his concerted effort to remain on his own, he knew that she must have singled him out.

  "I can guess the subject of your reverie," said she to him, standing shoulder to shoulder with him though she was lesser in height.

  "I should imagine not," he chuckled.

  "You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner; in such society," she proceeded to tell him. "And indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise; the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

  Her confidence in her supposition about his thoughts caused him immense amusement in the midst of his boredom.

  "Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

  Never having heard him in such praise of a woman, Caroline Bingley immediately observed her companion's face for signs of seriousness and was flummoxed to see that Mr. Darcy meant his every word.

  "Pray tell Mr Darcy - which of the women in this place has got you so enthralled to the magnitude of quietly meditating about her and singing her praises to me?"

  Mr. Darcy in likewise spirit with which Charles teased his sister proceeded to fearlessly bedazzle her with his reply.

  "Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he announced simply.

  A soft gasp followed his announcement and then: "Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment," she declared needlessly. Darcy could see her surprise written clearly across her dissatisfied expression. "How long has she been such a favourite?" she asked him. And then, trying for some semblance of composure, she added. "And pray, when am I to wish you joy?"

  He decided that Caroline Bingley could destroy a man's peace of mind and quiet meditation at the very chance she got.

  "That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask," he told her in scorn. "A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."

  Her reply if he actually had considered any romantic illusions to Elizabeth, would sufficiently douse them: "Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."

  Caroline Bingley knew that Pemberley was his sanctuary and he hated any mention of anybody intruding upon it. To her words he made no reply, assuming an air of enduring lack of interest. Observing his silence and mistaking it for complacency towards her, Caroline began to paint horrid pictures of his life as from her opinion with Elizabeth Bennet should he get it into his head to propose to her.

  "Why, I can imagine the whole of the family might just move in with her two! They are not so well off in the first place and..."

  She must be unaware that he had stopped listening, offering her only his physical presence- for she hardly paused to draw breath in her one sided discourse.

  Chapter Seven

  Mr. Bennet listened to the chatter of his two youngest daughters with increasing concern for their wit- or lack of it thereof. He was engaged in sorting out the details of the half-year proceedings of his estate- an estate which only yielded about two thousand pounds a year and totally entailed in the absence of male heirs. His wife had failed to give him one to inherit the property and so upon his death, the estate would fall into the hands of Anthony Collins, a distant cousin of his who was also a reverend in a land far away. This would have been quite enough to give a concerned parent of five daughters much grief, but not Mr. Bennet. His general principle of living was to live simply and with no worries and as such he couldn't be overly bothered by the fact that should he fall off the table and die, his daughters would be thrown out on their knickers by his cousin.

  The idle talk of his two youngest daughters distracted him but a moment from his perusal of the papers in front of him and he found himself disbelieving of the ludicrousness of their talk. The talk centred mostly on the militia regiment that recently set base in the neighbourhoods of Meryton. Listening to their unintelligible discourse for a while, Mr. Bennet could surmise that the two silly girls had gathered their knowledge from their visits to their aunt, Mrs. Bennets' sister- Mrs. Phillips in Meryton. The woman's husband was a lawyer; a former apprentice of his wife's and Mr. Bennet's wife's father upon whose death Mr. Phillips took over the trade. The man must have supplied his wife news of the officers acquired through his visits to wait on them while his wife supplied his daughters in turn with a bit of embellishment, no doubt.

  It was no wonder, thought Mr. Bennet, that his two youngest daughters' visit to their aunt's had become increasingly frequent in the past week. So glad he was to have them leave the house to attain some quiet that he had not suspected a thing of their foolishness. Now, all they filled his ears with were officer this and officer that.

  Unable to withhold himself any longer, he commented drily; "From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."

  Their mother, who hitherto was busy making preparations for dinner assisted by Jane and Elizabeth while Mary practised at the piano, turned to him with some measure of offense at his words. "I am astonished, my dear, that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however."

  The girls whom she so willingly jumped to their defence were not as bothered about his remark as she. While Lydia continued her excessive praise of a Colonel Carter, Catherine only appeared mildly disturbed, but otherwise remained silent. Mr. Bennet proceeded to inform his wife that he couldn't be a hypocrite concerning the state of mind of his own daughters. His wife continued to defend the girls while they resumed their childish chatter. He wanted to announce to them all that he doubted any man in his sane mind- least of all an officer in the regimen- would want any of his two youngest daughters for a wife as they had scarce any wit or beauty to recommend them when their footman, Albert entered with a note.

  "A note for Miss Jane," Albert announced and delivered the note to a surprised Jane.

  Most of the correspondence in the house was usually to their father and it was as surprising to them all that she was the recipient of such a fanciful note.

  "It came from Netherfield and the servant awaits a reply," added the footman before he retreated out of the room.

  "My goodness! From Netherfield he said; it can be from none other than Mr. Bingley! I did say he was smitten by Jane's beauty, did
I not?" Mrs. Bennet beamed proudly and bid her daughter haste to read it and tell them all what the letter contained.

  "It is from Miss Bingley," Jane finally announced much to the disappointment of her mother and the amusement of her father. Reading out the content of the letter, it could be gathered that Caroline Bingley had singled Jane out specifically for a day's visit at Netherfield as a result of the men in the house out on dinner with the officers in Meryton. The later news excited Lydia to no end and she complained that she hadn't heard this from her aunt. Everybody ignored her except perhaps Catherine who nodded in distraction at her comment.

  "Can I have the carriage?" Jane asked her father, but it was her mother who replied.

  "No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

  The sky indeed looked dark and heavy with immense downpour. The plot behind her mother's remark was not lost on the household- were Jane to go on horseback and it rained, the Netherfield occupants could not send her home and she would be able to meet with Mr. Bingley whenever he returned from his dinner visit to the officers.

  "That would be a good scheme if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home," Elizabeth observed.

  To this, Mrs. Bennet had a ready reply. She could be incredibly resourceful when she put her mind to it. "Oh! But the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs," she argued most conveniently.

  Jane expressed her worry at this and emphasized the need for a coach to go in, but Mrs. Bennet persuaded upon her husband to agree that he needed the coach more on the farm than she needed it to go to Netherfield in. The case was thus settled that Jane would go on horseback; and the waiting servant from Netherfield was sent off with a message that Jane would soon be upon them at Netherfield.

  Scarcely had Jane rode off away from the house and into the distance when the first drop of rain visited upon the earth and Mrs. Bennet was very much inordinately pleased with her plan. Mr. Bennet in the recess of his mind thought that he could not be made to venture far in obtaining intelligence from whence his two youngest daughters inherited their silliness.

  Jane Bennet was much disposed to turning back for Longbourn as the rain increased in intensity. Although she had thought to take necessary precautions such as an extra layer of petticoat, a full bodice dress, long thick garters and a full brim hat- courtesy of her mother's incessant foreboding of the rain and Elizabeth's gentle insistence, it ill sufficed the cold wind and large rain drops that pelted her from all sides as she rode the horse towards Netherfield. At first, she had delighted in the coolness of the drops and enjoyed the soft breeze that accompanied them.

  The horse, Delilah, was a favourite of hers. Her father's estate did not have too many horses to its credit and those available were mostly used in the farm. Only a few were spared for transportation and this one was Jane's favourite. It was mild mannered, sped with the wind and was really easy to handle. So, she had Delilah gallop over fields and grasses in the rain, laughing joyously at each jump and splash.

  Until the wind took a turn for the worse and the rain began to drop faster and bigger.

  There was such increase in the turn of the rain that soon, the enjoyment was none so good and gradually, the laughter died from her gay lips. In its place was a shivering so bad that she nigh convinced herself to turn back; however, sensibility kept her hands firmly on the reigns- she was halfway near Netherfield already and it would take the same distance to reach back to Longbourn that it would take to proceed to Netherfield. Turning back would mean she had suffered the rain in vain; thus, it was not a desirable option. Moreover, she could imagine that her mother would not forgive her for what she would consider a personal affront to her and Jane so hated to argue with her mother. So she continued to kick the side of the horse, spurring it on towards Netherfield, despite the cold and pains in her hands and back.

  In the recess of her mind, she admitted that apart from the concerted sufferings employed to deliver her to Netherfield without a chaise in the eventuality of the rain, she also would dearly love to see Mr. Bingley.

  "Yee-haw!" she called to Delilah to move faster.

  For what seemed like the longest time in her young years, she came into the view of the house at long last. The house seemed bigger than she remembered to her weary eyes and Jane could swear that there were now two of them.

  As she neared the front door, a footman ran out of the house and forward to her with a parasol. Gingerly, she stepped off the horse, shaking with the cold and almost tumbling into the man's arms.

  "Th-thank yo-you," she stumbled out to the footman.

  Fearing to drip all over the fine thick rug covering the panelled floor of the waiting room, she absolutely refused to go inside the house regardless of the efforts of the footman to make her do just so. It took the appalled appearances of Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to convince her otherwise and this she did with utmost care and regard for the rug.

  "Do not act so, my dear Miss Bennet; make haste so that we can get you out of those wet clothes without delay!" Miss Bingley scolded.

  The sharp words revived Jane to her senses like no hot water could and she sprang up the stairs to the room where she was shown. As she was already expected to arrive in the rain- though in a chaise and not on horseback, none was too surprised at her appearance, but her cold state caused quite a commotion.

  "Rose, do step on those feet and get a bath tub of water to the spare room above stairs this instant!" Mrs. Hurst snapped at one of the maids who jumped to do her bidding as if a whip had been cracked.

  "I must get dry clothes from my room," cried Caroline, "to think I am responsible for your predicament..."

  Jane felt increasingly mortified at the trouble she seemed to cause everyone and it seemed her shivering had a mind of its own; she couldn't stop it to save the worries and commotion despite her best efforts.

  "I am sorry," she kept on murmuring even though those came out in most disjointedly owning to the shivers of her lips.

  "Oh, Miss Bennet," Mrs. Hurst said sympathetically, shaking her head at her.

  At last, after a soak in a hot bath tub of water, a change of clothes and warm tea down her throat, she felt minimally better and able to present herself below stairs to the ladies of the house. Her first step into the breakfast-parlour was announced by a very loud sneeze and then another, followed closely by yet another.

  "Oh dear, I think Miss Bennet had caught a cold," Miss Bingley exclaimed.

  Indeed, Jane thought she had. It seemed her nose listened to Miss Bingley and it suddenly became filled with water. Only then did she begin to feel the tell tale signs of a headache in her temple and she raised a hand to it. It felt hot. She wondered how her temple could feel so hot when she had just been out in the rain.

  "I think the cold would disappear with your company and goodwill," she said decidedly, walking bravely into the room to join the ladies.

  Another round of sneezing, worse than the first, called her a liar to her face.

  "I am afraid that this will not do," Mrs. Hurst declared. "I will suggest that you retire to bed under heavy blankets to ward off the cold."

  "I will have the maids put up a fire for you too," Miss Bingley added, leaving the room at once to do as she said.

  "I hate to be so much trouble," complained Jane.

  "Such nonsense!" dismissed Mrs. Hurst. "You did not plan the making of the rain nor would you know of its imminence even if you tried."

  Jane silently thought about her mother's predictions and connivance that she took the horse instead of a chaise and knew that she had earned what she deserved by acting so.

  As she was led up the stairs a second time, she found herself wishing that she had not acted so rashly and at the same time, hoping that her illness would be gone soonest. Were she to see Mr. Bingley, she detested to see him in a state of malady for she was afraid that he might surmise that she was a sick
ly woman which couldn't be further from the truth.

  Chapter Eight

  "Sometimes, it is best that one sees the road before embarking on a journey to the unknown," Colonel Forster was saying while chewing around a mouthful of salmon.

  The entire dinner table of soldiers, Charles Bingley, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Mr. Hurst murmured their agreement to the sentiment expressed so wittily; well, all with the exception of Mr. Bingley. Charles Bingley was preoccupied with watching the colonel with the fascination of an ardent admirer. Anyone of the occupants on the large table who deigned to glance in his general direction would notice the attention he fixed upon the colonel; so intent was he on his study of the man. What such observer would fail to recognize was that it was hardly the colonel's uniform, ridiculously bent moustache or even the intelligent words that fell off the man's crooked lips that caused this rapt attention from Charles Bingley. Rather, it was the fact that to Bingley, Colonel Forster was achieving a feat he hitherto had thought impossible through his eating habit. Before, Bingley could never imagine that conversation could be made around a mouthful of food, but the colonel had just demonstrated that it was something of a possibility.

  Watching the colonel talk around his food without choking was perhaps the most interesting thing Charles Bingley had done the entire afternoon. Unlike his friend, Darcy, who seemed to have genuine interest in the happenings around the states; and his in-law, Mr. Hurst, who was replete with so much food that he could only nod and murmur in consent to everything under discourse, Bingley saw no reason to muster up false interest in the conversation flowing about the table which centred majorly on wars around the globe and the unrest in Great Britain. He doubted if any of the gentlemen noticed the rain falling outside.

  He would rather endeavour to imitate the colonel's habit, and thus, see for himself how possible the feat was. Scarcely had he shoved a rather large morsel of bacon into his mouth when the officer seated next to Darcy on his right side addressed him.