Falling for Mr. Darcy

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Falling for Mr. Darcy Page 15

by KaraLynne Mackrory


  Darcy hid the offense he felt and continued, “Bingley, what about your duty to your family?”

  “Duty be damned, Darcy! My father made his fortune in trade and, although I have been raised as a gentleman, it is merely my money that has bought my acceptance into society. Jane is the daughter of a gentleman. She is everything lovely, pure and beautiful. I’ll be damned if I let some misguided talk of duty to any person or to society keep me from living the rest of my life in her happy companionship.”

  Darcy sat silently contemplating his friend’s words. “Bingley — ”

  “No, Darcy, I shall not let you talk me out of this. I have lived with only my sisters and Hurst as family for far too long. I have spent years in London without meeting anyone who suits me as Jane does. I shall have happiness, Darcy. I shall!” He turned and, patting Darcy on the shoulder, left the room with as much enthusiasm as he had entered it. Darcy was left wishing he had the courage to obtain such happiness.

  Mr. Darcy took out his watch and opened it to gaze at his stolen treasure. He was supposed to be trying to loosen the strings Elizabeth had wrapped around his heart and ignore their tugs in the direction of Longbourn. He was staying out of her presence so that he could figure things out. But his control regarding her was slipping, and Bingley’s happiness was tempting him. He snapped the watch shut and hoped the image of Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes would snap out of his mind, too. He was different from Bingley, his duties not so easily forsaken.

  * * *

  Elizabeth folded her letter and heated the wax with a candle before stamping the seal. She had written her aunt a lovely recital of the events of the Netherfield ball and days following. Jane had asked her to include the news of her courtship with Bingley, and Elizabeth happily accepted the charge. She knew her aunt would be interested, and Jane was much too occupied to write herself — what with daydreaming about Bingley when the gentleman was not visiting and spending time with him when he was.

  Elizabeth took up the letter and tapped it on her writing desk absently as she frowned. Bingley had come nearly every day for three days now since he had begun courting Jane. Although she was happy for her sister, she was beginning to feel a bit of disappointment that his friend had not accompanied him on at least one of his visits. She had not ventured to ask about Darcy as her courage did not extend that far. Mr. Bingley was lively company, and she enjoyed his conversation, which was fortunate as she was often relegated to chaperone her sister and the gentleman.

  However agreeable Mr. Bingley’s visits were, they lacked a certain something that had been there whenever Mr. Darcy had accompanied him. Bingley, although intelligent, was not a great reader, and Elizabeth found the range of topics to discuss narrowed in their ability to challenge her mind. She was disappointed in herself for thinking about Mr. Darcy so much. It was not as though the gentleman was at Netherfield pining after her company. If he had been, he had only to call with Mr. Bingley to secure it.

  Elizabeth, who prided herself in her independence, was beginning to find the feelings of her heart to be rather irritating at times. Falling in love with Mr. Darcy — and love him she did — was stealing her composure. She did not like the assortment of feelings the man caused in her. At one moment, she would feel shivers of joy pulse inside her when he simply smiled, then in the next moment, her natural pride faltered as she worried he did not return her regard. Now, she was sitting there wishing to see him and disappointed that she had not. What has happened to me? Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn does not need the attentions of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley to be content, Elizabeth thought discontentedly.

  * * *

  When Elizabeth carried her letter down to her father’s study to be posted with the rest, she was surprised to see he was not alone. Sitting across from his desk were the unhappy faces of her two youngest sisters and her mother. Elizabeth sensed it was a private meeting and, therefore, just slid her letter on the post tray on her father’s sideboard. She had intended slipping out without a word, but her father’s voice stalled her.

  “Elizabeth, you may stay.” It was less of an invitation than a polite request. She recognized this and, bewildered, took a seat at the side of the room.

  “Papa, did you really have to throw the man out? La! He was only accompanying us home from Meryton.” Lydia’s shrill voice caused Elizabeth to sit back in astonishment at her impertinence.

  “Lydia Bennet, you had best listen very clearly to what I will say now, because I will not repeat myself. You are not to speak so much as two words to the man or go so far as to be in his company. I forbid it. If you do not adhere to my ruling on this matter, you will find yourself no longer out in society and relegated to the nursery again. There will be no balls, no evenings in company, no assemblies — nothing. This goes for you too, Kitty. Do I make myself clear?”

  Elizabeth looked with astonishment, first at the impassioned face of her father, who had never once, thus far, exerted himself in his parental role as to forbid anything of his daughters, and then at the stunned profiles of her sisters and mother. Her interest in the cause for such a display without precedence increased significantly.

  Her mother was the first to recover from her astonishment. “Mr. Bennet, surely you are not serious. Whatever can you mean by telling the charming Mr. Wickham to leave and not ever come back to Longbourn? And to demand Lydia not speak to the man? You try my nerves, sir, with your teasing. I met the man, myself, today in Meryton when he accompanied us home. He is everything affable and such a handsome gentleman. He is an officer, too, you know!”

  Elizabeth was beginning to understand the import of the moment, but she was confused as to how her father had come to the knowledge of Wickham’s character. Mr. Darcy had said he would inform her father about Wickham, but he had not been to Longbourn since before the Netherfield ball.

  “Mrs. Bennet, I can, and I will, decide what persons are welcome in my home, and I will thank you to remember that. Mr. Wickham is not to be admitted here, nor are any of your daughters to be allowed in his company. I assure you, I do not jest. The man is a blackguard, a gamester, and a philanderer of the first ranks.”

  “But how can you know that, Papa? You have only just met him a moment ago! I daresay, he cannot be so handsome and so bad, too,” insisted Lydia, undeterred by the steel in her father’s voice.

  “A gentleman of our acquaintance has known Mr. Wickham his entire life and informed me of his character. I have since spoken to Colonel Forster, and he has confirmed that Wickham already has substantial debts around Meryton. And I will not wound your sensibilities with the rumors of his more personal encounters with more than one member of the serving class in the area.” Mr. Bennet appeared suddenly exhausted and aged as he looked towards his daughters and wife once more. “I have said all I will on the topic, and you know my demands. I will brook no more discussion regarding Mr. Wickham; you are dismissed.”

  Lydia and Kitty flounced out of the room with dramatic wails, followed by Mrs. Bennet, not much more composed. Elizabeth stood to leave.

  “No, Lizzy. Stay a minute, please.”

  Elizabeth went to her father’s side and took his hand in hers. After a few moments of silence, Mr. Bennet directed Elizabeth to her favorite chair by the fire and sat down in his.

  “Elizabeth, I am sure you are wondering why I asked you to stay. I am tired, so I will come straight to the point.” Mr. Bennet then related briefly his encounter with Mr. Darcy. He shared with his daughter an abbreviated version of Wickham’s history with the Darcy family and, excepting revealing the identity of Georgiana, related the attempted seduction and elopement of a ‘near relation’ of Mr. Darcy. “I had planned to make less of a display when forbidding your sisters to be in the company of Mr. Wickham, but when they arrived home today from Meryton on the arms of the man, I wasted no time in informing the gentleman his presence was not welcome now or ever at Longbourn or with any of its inhabitants.”

  “Mr. Darcy warned me to stay away from the man, but I had n
ot thought that he was as bad as that,” Elizabeth said in astonishment at the numerous humiliations and betrayals Mr. Darcy and his family had suffered at the hands of one wicked man. Her esteem for Mr. Darcy rose significantly as she realized the many mortifications he must have endured in exposing his dealings with Wickham to her father in order to protect her and her family.

  “Your Mr. Gent is a good man, Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet said quietly and tenderly as he watched Elizabeth absorb all he had told her. She looked up at her father but could say nothing. They sat there in silence for some time, lost in their own thoughts until it was time to change for dinner.

  Chapter 9

  Mr. Darcy was beginning to think he should have accepted the invitation with Bingley to dine at Longbourn that evening rather than give his excuse of business. Now, Bingley was in the company of the woman who would soon become his betrothed and also Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy morosely drank from his glass. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had already separated to the drawing room after dinner to leave Mr. Hurst and him to a glass of port. Darcy looked at his glass as he swirled the cherry-colored liquid. He frowned as he imagined that, instead of sitting next to Miss Bingley all evening over the never-ending courses of food, he could have been listening to Elizabeth’s sparkling laugh, ready wit and enchanting voice. Maybe she would have played the pianoforte after dinner, or they might have played a game of cards.

  His resolve kept him from accepting the invitation, and instead, he stayed at Netherfield for the evening. After three courses, the assault on his senses from Miss Bingley’s perfume was nauseating. Her endless vitriol about the neighborhood was also irritating. Nor did the constant flattery directed at him help his appetite. ‘Oh, how precisely you cut your venison, Mr. Darcy.’ He groaned out a humorless laugh at the ridiculous attempts to catch his attention. He found that, if he kept his head bent to his meal and merely nodded occasionally to her, he could minimize the stirrings of the air and thus marginalize the onslaught.

  Moments in which he had been ungallant enough to sport with her had brought a little enjoyment to the evening. For example, when he asked for her opinion on the recently discussed Corn Laws in Parliament, her answer caused him to bite his cheek to keep from laughing until he tasted blood.

  “Oh it is infinitely important for one to keep in mind that a varied diet is certainly the most healthful.”

  The memory brought an unbidden chuckle from his lips, and Mr. Hurst, who had dozed off in his chair after the ladies left, sat up and, after clearing his throat rather rudely, proclaimed, “Quite right, quite right,” before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes again. Mr. Darcy covered his mouth, trying to quench another peel of merriment.

  He could not avoid rejoining the ladies much longer, so as if to fortify himself, he drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. When he stood, Mr. Hurst did not rouse at the sound, so Mr. Darcy, with a heavy step, found himself heading alone to the front lines. He slowed his pace as he neared the drawing room doors and signaled to the footman not to announce him. When he noticed the door ajar, he dismissed the footman altogether and stopped to listen to the conversation through the door.

  “Really, Louisa, we simply must stop him. He will connect himself to that family, and then we will all be ruined.”

  “I don’t know, Caroline, the Bennets are unlikely to spend any time in town and are unknown there. I cannot see how, if Charles were to marry Miss Bennet, it would lessen your chances.”

  “Louisa, really. You cannot expect that, with Charles as a son-in-law, silly, improper Mrs. Bennet will keep herself at Longbourn.”

  “When Charles is in town, he usually stays at our townhouse or at Darcy House. He will likely take up his own townhouse if he marries. and you will not have to see his wife or her family if you do not wish it. Besides, I believe he plans to stay at Netherfield much of the time.”

  “Of course I will have to see her, Louisa. Oh, really, you are most obtuse sometimes. Charles is Mr. Darcy’s closest friend. When I marry Mr. Darcy, I will still spend a great deal of time with Charles, and his wife will likely have members of her family often visiting.”

  Mr. Darcy’s posture stiffened when he heard Caroline talk of being his wife. A shudder stole through him, and he nearly walked into the room to make it quite clear that it would never happen. He hated the machinations so many ladies in his sphere of acquaintance used to try to gain his interest. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he waited to hear what else they had to say.

  “I see your point, Caroline.”

  “If Charles marries Miss Bennet, it is more than likely Miss Elizabeth will come to live or, at the very least, visit often with her sister. I cannot think of the discomfort my dear Darcy will have being constantly thrown into her company as I know he quite detests her. Oh, how he will suffer! My only solace is that I shall be there to comfort him.”

  The force of Miss Bingley’s words struck Mr. Darcy full on, and he took a step back and leaned against the wall. Why had I not thought of that? If Bingley marries Miss Bennet — no, when he marries her, as I am sure it is only a matter of days before they become engaged — I will likely see much of Elizabeth. It was with a mixture of pleasure and pain that his mind contemplated that likely result of the marriage. Although Mr. Darcy had acknowledged to himself that he, indeed, did love Elizabeth, he had also come to the reluctant decision that he could not have her. He owed too much to his family, and they expected him to marry a woman of rank and fortune.

  I must be indifferent in her presence if I am to endure living without her. The days since he last saw her at the ball had been torture, but he prided himself that he was surviving it well enough. He only managed to think of her half a dozen or so times a day. If he could survive an extended length of time out of Miss Elizabeth’s presence, perhaps he could train his heart to forget his love.

  Determining his course of action, Mr. Darcy straightened and walked through the drawing room doors. “I am sorry to interrupt you ladies. I came only to bid you good night as I have planned for an early morning tomorrow and wish to retire early.” He bowed his acknowledgement while Miss Bingley gushed her regrets at his retiring early, but turned and left before she could rise from her seat and try to persuade him to remain a moment longer.

  Upon reaching his suite, he pulled fiercely at his cravat to untie the knot as he rang for his valet. He made quick work of the silken fabric, removed his tailcoat and waistcoat and tossed them hastily on the chair in his dressing room.

  After receiving his summons, Rogers entered the dressing room. He frowned at the disregarded garments as he picked them up and carefully folded them.

  “Rogers, pack my things; we leave for London at first light.”

  “Very good, sir. Anything else, sir?”

  “A brandy, please.”

  Mr. Darcy entered his bedchamber and sank heavily in the chair near the hearth. A moment later, his valet handed him the snifter of amber liquid before exiting to begin packing.

  Thinking of returning to London turned Darcy’s thoughts to his sister. It was a balm to his already sinking mood to know that he would soon be there to cheer her up. He had been gone nearly two months, and it was time he remembered his responsibilities. He took a sip of brandy and then threw the rest, glass and all, into the fire. He would bury himself in his neglected business affairs and the entertainment of his sister, and he would forget Elizabeth. He would.

  * * *

  The following morning dawned gray and dreary. Mr. Darcy watched through the window as his valet instructed the footmen in securing his trunks on the carriage. He had written Bingley a short missive explaining his hasty departure due to business. He also made reference to spending Christmas with Georgiana so that he would not be expected to return for many weeks. After pressing his signet ring into the hot wax to seal the letter, he handed it to Bingley’s butler with instructions to give it to his friend when he came downstairs to break his fast.

  Upon exiting the house, he pause
d briefly and looked around him with a heavy heart and even weightier mind. As he entered the carriage, the weather seemed to match his mood; not an hour into his journey to London, it began to rain. Grumbling to himself, Mr. Darcy felt a fissure form in his heart and a last-minute, panicked wish to turn around — to turn around and go straight to Elizabeth. He drew in a shaky breath and reminded himself of his reasons for leaving. They made sense and were sound. The rain pelting the rooftop seemed to be mocking his decision. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block the traitorous weather and was soon lulled into a restless sleep.

  * * *

  When the continued rainy weather turned into the first snow of the season, the inhabitants of Longbourn were forced to remain at home with few callers for several days. With Mary’s wedding only days away, Mrs. Bennet fretted excessively about being unable to go to Meryton to secure the items still needed for her trousseau. Occasionally, Charlotte Lucas would venture to walk the short way to visit Elizabeth, for which she was glad as it broke up the tedious pace of the day and distracted her from the question of why Mr. Darcy had not come for a visit in the week since the ball. He had even declined an invitation to dinner a few days before with excuses sent through Bingley of business he needed to attend. Elizabeth had been disappointed but had also felt admiration for his dedication to his responsibilities.

  Elizabeth could not hide her excitement at awaking after three days of poor weather to see sun shining through her window. It was a beautiful day, and she could see the sun glistening on the blanket of snow. She hummed as she picked out a pretty cream frock with a green sash and did a careful toilette on her hair. After breakfasting, she briefly visited her father in his study to say a cheerful good morning.

  “Good morning to you, too, Lizzy. You seem to be in good spirits this morning.”

  “It is bright and sunny out today. I cannot wait to leave this house and finally get some fresh air. Would you like to come with me on a walk this morning, Papa?”

 

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