Meant to Be: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Andreea Catana

  Elizabeth noticed happy surprise as well as mirth in her sister’s eyes.

  “Oh, dear Lizzy, you know how Mama is. I hope Mr. Bingley is not upset by our intrusion.”

  “He did not appear upset—quite the contrary. Your Mr. Bingley looked genuinely pleased. Strangely, even Mr. Darcy insisted on our remaining. I think he finds a strange amusement in our company, as I doubt he can truly favour our remaining over night.”

  “He is not my Mr. Bingley—stop teasing me.”

  “Well, if he is not, I would venture a wager that he will be soon. However, Mr. Darcy…”

  “But Lizzy,” Jane interposed, noticing the hesitation in Elizabeth’s voice, “if Mr. Bingley does has no reason to object, why do you worry about Mr. Darcy’s opinion? Do you wish his approval?”

  Elizabeth averted her eyes. “I could not care less about his approval. But what Mama did was shameful. Suppose Mr. Darcy guesses her plans and considers us desperate. It is shameful to trap any gentleman!”

  Jane took her hand. “Yes, you are right, but I feel you are troubling yourself too much. Not even Mr. Darcy can suspect that our mother caused the storm on a sunny day.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her sister’s attempt to cheer her and struggled to understand why the situation bothered her. Under different circumstances and with different people, she would have been nothing but amused.

  “So, Lizzy, are we expected for dinner?”

  “Yes…but if I had a good reason, I would not go.”

  “Oh, we cannot offend Mr. Bingley in such a way!”

  “Of course not. Mr. Bingley is too amiable to be deprived of your presence, dearest Jane.”

  “Lizzy! You find amusement in teasing me!”

  “Yes, I do, dearest. Now, let me help you put on your dress the maid just brought. And let us arrange our hair again. We are not only improperly attired for dinner in our daily clothes, but our appearance is somewhat savage. Well—to be honest—mostly my appearance. You always look beautiful!”

  “Lizzy!”

  As they laughed and fixed their appearance, Elizabeth tried to compose herself for what would come. She knew Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would be displeased with them—and likely rude—but she was prepared to be amused by the confrontation. Another person’s presence though—also silent and distant—was reason enough to give her chills.

  “Lizzy, I see you are ready. You do not have to wait for me. Please go ahead and tell the others that I shall be present shortly.”

  “No, no, I think it would be better if we went down together.”

  “We do not wish to make a bad impression by both of us arriving late for dinner. And I do not want to make them wait, wondering what has happened to us.”

  Elizabeth pondered this; still reluctant, she agreed, considering that, if Mr. Bingley’s sisters made any impolite comments, they would surely do so at her entrance, and thus Jane would be protected from their rudeness.

  Elizabeth went to the drawing room, expecting everyone to be there. But the room was empty and silent except for the downpour outside. She returned to the main hall, unsure what to do. As she looked around, she noticed Mr. Darcy on the top of the stairs. He had changed his clothes, and the dark blue he now wore made him look even more imposing; it also softened his features. Elizabeth was reminded of the portrait she had seen in the main hall at Rosings, where the figure of his late father dominated the frame. She shivered as she watched him descend and stop in front of her.

  He bowed. “Miss Bennet.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” she replied with a smile. “I am afraid I am the first one to arrive for dinner. The maid told us the family was gathered in the drawing room.”

  “I believe they are already in the dining room. Please allow me to show you there.” He spoke without taking his eyes off her, and chills travelled down her spine as she nodded, moving to his side.

  “Will your sister not join us this evening? She is well, I hope,” he inquired upon entering the room.

  “Yes, she is well, thank you. She will be here shortly.”

  “I am glad to hear it. Bingley will be delighted.”

  “I trust he will,” Elizabeth answered frankly, turning to meet his eyes Preoccupation was obvious on his face as he added, “I hope Miss Bennet is delighted too…in having dinner with us…you as well…”

  The statement found her unprepared.

  “Your concern is much appreciated, sir,” she replied. “We are grateful for Mr. Bingley’s generous invitation, as well as for your support.”

  “Bingley is as generous as he is amiable,” Darcy said.

  Elizabeth paused with surprise at such praise. What was the meaning of it? “I have not known Mr. Bingley long enough to form an opinion, but I have no reason to distrust your words. I also notice he seems to value your opinion and follow your advice. Mr. Bingley is a fortunate man. He has friends and family who are willing to act on his behalf for his own happiness.”

  Mr. Darcy looked at her intently. Elizabeth expected him to return to his usual distant pose, disconnecting from her entirely; instead, he smiled, joining her in the conversation.

  “I am not certain whether your words favour my friend. In my opinion, a man who allows others to decide for him is not to be admired. But I believe that is not the case with Bingley. He may listen to my advice, but he has made his own decisions for years now.”

  “Again, I have no reason to distrust your words, sir. And I do find it admirable the way you commend your friend’s qualities.”

  Mr. Darcy had no answer, but his countenance became more severe as they approached the dining room. He glanced at Elizabeth once more and their eyes met, then he pushed the door and entered, met by four surprised looks.

  Miss Bingley spoke first. “Miss Elizabeth! I expected you to come with your sister, and here you are with Mr. Darcy again! Should I begin to wonder about the coincidence?” Her joke was too sharp to be amusing.

  “Jane will join us shortly. She asked me to come and apologise for the delay,” she explained briefly.

  “Oh, I was afraid she might be unwell,” Mr. Bingley replied with a sigh of relief. Does she know the way? Should I wait for her in the hall?”

  “Really, Charles, that is ridiculous,” Mrs. Hurst scolded him. “I am sure she is perfectly capable of finding the dining room in a house full of servants.

  Elizabeth kept her temper under regulation. The sisters’ behaviour was worse than she expected. She turned to Mr. Bingley with her most charming smile.

  “That would be very kind of you, sir. Your guidance would be very helpful. Even I had trouble finding you, but I was lucky enough to meet Mr. Darcy who kindly provided me direction and company.”

  “Yes, yes, I will go right away,” Mr. Bingley answered as he hastened from the room.

  Elizabeth took her seat and then glanced around, meeting the sisters’ angry looks, Mr. Hurst’s stern, indifferent expression, and Mr. Darcy’s mirth-filled blue eyes.

  Minutes later, Mr. Bingley returned in the company of a blushing and exceedingly beautiful companion.

  Jane set by her sister on Mr. Bingley’s right, facing Mr. Darcy. For the next hour, the more amiable and talkative Mr. Bingley was, the less so Mr. Darcy became.

  During dinner, Elizabeth saw Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley speaking in confidence, Miss Bingley casting curious glances at Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth was determined not to allow them to lower her spirits and engaged herself in conversation with her sister and their host, slightly troubled by Mr. Darcy’s gaze from the other side of the table.

  The dinner was rich and elegant, and time passed quickly. Mr. Bingley spoke mainly to Jane and Elizabeth—and occasionally to his friend—while his sisters preferred to remain silent, only giving cold looks at both Jane and Elizabeth from time to time.

  When the party returned to the drawing room, Mr. Hurst preferred the company of a bottle of wine while Mrs. Hurst proposed a game of cards that was settled among herself, Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley, and Jane. El
izabeth refused the invitation and asked permission to read a book she found on the table.

  “Oh, you may take it—Darcy read it last night,” Mr. Bingley said. “He also prefers reading to cards, which is rather peculiar. But then again, we are already accustomed to Darcy’s uncommon preferences.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, her eyes inquiring whether she might read the volume, and he nodded his head in approval. She opened it, her fingers trembling slightly, aware that the book had been in his hands a few hours before. A recollection of the previous instance when their fingers had touched became so vivid that the paper seemed to burn her skin.

  “I hope you enjoy it, Miss Elizabeth,” she heard Darcy’s hoarse voice, and her name on his lips—though proper and solemn—sounded strangely different.

  “I hope I will…I am sure I will…I like reading…” She instantly became angry at her childish reaction.

  “Yes, I remember,” he said almost in a whisper.

  “Will you take another book, Darcy?” Mr. Bingley asked.

  “No…I shall use the time to write to Georgiana.”

  “Oh, dear Georgiana! Please tell her I miss her exceedingly and look forward to seeing her soon,” Miss Bingley called.

  “I will endeavour to do justice to your kind words, Miss Bingley,” Darcy answered then turned his attention to the piece of paper.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Bingley addressed her, “what do you usually do in this part of the country in such terrible weather? I understand you are partial to spending time outdoors.”

  Elizabeth was surprised and needed a moment to form a proper answer. “I employ my time reading, playing the piano, or simply enjoying conversation with my sisters and parents—and, of course, wishing and praying for better weather.”

  “And does it help—the wishing, I mean?”

  “Yes, often it does it does. At least, it prevents me from thinking only about what is troublesome with the day.”

  “Perhaps, then, you can wish for this rain to stop, for it almost drives us insane.”

  Elizabeth smiled, sensing Miss Bingley’s words were only meant to offend her. She was not willing to allow Caroline to have her way, especially as she felt Mr. Darcy looking at her.

  “Very well then, I am happy to oblige you,” Elizabeth spoke cheerfully. “I shall make this wish: rain, please stop!”

  Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst remained still, their eyes widened in surprise.

  Mr. Darcy smiled and intervened. “Well, we must have patience and wait a little. No wish ever came true in a heartbeat,” he said with a rarely heard gentle voice before returning to his letter. Elizabeth could not conceal her own smile.

  “Well, are you playing or not? We have wasted a lot of time already,” Mr. Hurst asked with obvious irritation.

  The card game began while Elizabeth engaged herself in reading, trying not to turn her attention too often to Mr. Darcy.

  During the third round of cards, as the conversation at the table became animated, Mr. Darcy suddenly rose from his place and went to the window.

  “I guess your wish turned into a command and became true, Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “The storm has abated.”

  Elizabeth put her book down, hurried to see for herself, and then put her fingers over her mouth to cover her laughter. However, she knew she could not hide her amusement from Mr. Darcy’s eyes, which were sparkling with gaiety.

  “Oh, surely you are joking,” Miss Bingley cried, approaching them while staring outside.

  “Not at all—the sky is clear and the stars are out. Let us have some fresh air,” Darcy replied, widely opening the window to the garden. The fresh, night breeze fell gently on Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she closed her eyes for a moment to rejoice in the sensation.

  “Well, it seems Miss Elizabeth casts powerful spells,” Mr. Bingley said. “The rain has indeed stopped.”

  “Of course, we all know it was only a joke and a coincidence,” Mrs. Hurst interfered coldly. “Any summer rain passes quickly—no spell is needed for that.”

  “It might be a coincidence, but it also might be Miss Elizabeth’s spell. We cannot dismiss such a possibility,” Darcy added, amusement lighting his face. Elizabeth blushed but held his look.

  “Well then, we should be careful about Miss Elizabeth’s wishes. It seems her desires are fulfilled and with the utmost urgency,” Miss Bingley spoke ironically.

  “Then perhaps she should wish for more wine, for I am thirsty.” Mr. Hurst entered the conversation, making everyone laugh except Bingley’s sisters.

  Mrs. Hurst felt the embarrassment of her husband’s words and immediately sought to divert the discussion. “Miss Elizabeth, do you read palms as well? Or cast spells? Have you other special attributes?”

  Elizabeth saw Jane flush at the offence, but she smiled at her reassuringly. The conversation was entertaining and raised her spirits. She enjoyed verbal battle with the rude sisters and felt a strange contentment at having Mr. Darcy’s support.

  “No, Mrs. Hurst, I am afraid not. All my other attributes are boringly common.”

  “But no less charming, I am sure,” Mr. Bingley added, pleased to see Jane’s smile of gratitude.

  “Thank you, sir, you are too kind. Pleasant manners and an amiable character are more powerful than any spell.” Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Bingley while his sisters stewed. She breathed the fresh air once again. “It is rather late; I believe Jane and I should retire. We thank you for a most pleasant evening.”

  As the Bennet sisters retired for the night, arm in arm, Elizabeth turned at the door to look back one more time and saw Mr. Darcy still looking out the window. Miss Bingley moved to join him, but he took a few steps away, and she abandoned the attempt.

  Elizabeth laughed to herself and closed the door behind them. Just as they headed to the stars, a maid stopped them.

  “Miss Elizabeth, a letter arrived from Longbourn a little earlier, but we did not want to disturb you during dinner. I put it on the table in your room. I hope you do not mind.”

  “Thank you, I shall look for it right away.”

  Both sisters hurried to their apartment, eager and worried to read the latest news. Fortunately, the letter was light and pleasant and put their minds at ease for the night.

  My dearest Lizzy,

  I am content to know that you have found shelter at Netherfield against the heavy rain that has arisen unexpectedly. I am afraid your mother had her wish fulfilled, and not by Divine Grace but rather by the cunning employment of pretending at my arrival home that you and Jane had decided to remain overnight. I hope to fetch you tomorrow morning after breakfast. Mrs. Bennet is quite impossible in her attempts to manipulate the weather and me to achieve her goals. I am genuinely concerned about what she might do in such a state. Fortunately, she is upstairs, and I am in the library, enjoying my third glass of brandy. Yes, I know—one too much—but it was absolutely necessary.

  ***

  As soon as the Bennet sisters left the drawing room, Miss Bingley began to speak freely. “I am glad we had a chance to meet Eliza Bennet today. We heard so much about her last night at the ball that we were afraid of missing such a great acquaintance.”

  “Miss Elizabeth is lovely, Caroline,” Mr. Bingley said. “She is just as amiable and charming as her sister.”

  “Oh, Charles, you have allowed yourself to be blinded by your infatuation wih dear Jane. Eliza has nothing to recommend her except the talent she has shown this evening.”

  Miss Bingley looked at her sister, seeking confirmation, and received supportive nods.

  “And she was obviously trying to make a good impression on us—especially on Mr. Darcy. I reckon she is one of those girls who try to portray themselves as a weak woman in order to impress gentlemen. You have observed it, Mr. Darcy, I suppose.”

  “I have not noticed any of these things, Miss Bingley. But I do think that ladies sometimes have a rather rich imagination when it comes to other ladies. Besides, Miss Elizabeth had already mad
e an impression on me when we were in Kent, so no special effort was necessary.”

  Miss Bingley stopped, feeling the full force of his reproach. An awkward pause followed, interrupted only when Mr. and Mrs. Hurst announced that they would retire for the evening. They were soon followed by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and Miss Bingley found herself alone in the drawing room, wondering whether Mr. Darcy might be interested in Miss Elizabeth after all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following morning, Elizabeth woke early. Jane was still sleeping soundly, so she moved quietly to avoid waking her. She drew near the window and opened it; light was spreading over the park, and she leant out to feel the fresh breeze.

  She knew she had to clarify thoughts that had tormented and kept her awake most of the night. The past day had been unexpected with events following surprisingly fast, leaving her no the time to ponder their meaning. She was pleased to see Mr. Bingley’s openly displayed admiration for her sister and Jane’s delight in receiving it.

  However, Mr. Darcy’s behaviour towards her and her own feelings about him confused her terribly.

  Elizabeth noticed her reflection in the window and was bewildered to discover that she seemed changed. There was nothing precise, but she knew her eyes looked different. And her face was pale—perhaps tired or upset or sad. A strange melancholy burdened her soul. How was it possible to feel distressed from a mere visit to Netherfield?

  “It’s nothing! I am such a simpleton! I cannot”—she paused then corrected herself—“I will not allow myself to think beyond what it is in front of me. I have only come here for Jane’s benefit. I have no other interest.”

  She dared not ask nor even answer herself about what Mr. Darcy’s presence meant to her. He was Mr. Bingley’s friend, and as such, she was entitled to treat him with as much civility as such a circumstance and her own conscience would allow. After all, Mr. Darcy had been attentive towards her, even to the point of admonishing the Bingley sisters, and his manners reassured her that she had been correct to put the events at Rosings behind her.

  “Perhaps, we are on the verge of becoming friends, and I should be thankful for that.”