Feather in the Wind: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Madeline Kennet

  It seemed odd that he was intending to come back when Lady Lucas had described him as discontented. There must be a great friendship between him and Mr. Bingley. Or perhaps he had an interest in Miss Bingley. If he was the man she had liked, then Elizabeth hoped that was not the case. Ten minutes conversation with Miss Bingley had given her a decided distaste for the lady’s company. More importantly, she felt a strong aversion to the idea of seeing her handsome gentleman with any other lady.

  But was he the one? Or had she met some other stranger whom nobody had mentioned and who was long gone by now? Or one who had meant to attend the assembly, but had not been able to go after all. It was perplexing, but now she would have to wait a little longer to know.

  ______

  “You did not miss much by absenting yourself from the Goulding’s dinner,” Miss Bingley said. “It was the usual dull affair with the same people we meet every time we go out in this dreadful place. Oh, but there was one difference. Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth Bennet put in an appearance.”

  Mr. Darcy was astonished by this information. He had not anticipated missing such an opportunity by going to London on the day of the Goulding’s dinner invitation. In fact, he had been content to decline the invitation rather that being disappointed one more time. Somebody had told him that Miss Lucas was still unwell and there was no chance of seeing either her or her friend.

  “Miss Lucas has recovered, has she?” He said this with a deliberate tone of near indifference.

  “Yes. She was quite ladylike, more so than either her mother or her sister. Her manners are like Jane Bennet’s. I think you will like her well enough, which is more than can be said for most of our recent acquaintances.”

  “And what of the other lady?”

  Miss Bingley laughed. “You will not like her at all. Eliza Bennet is the most impertinent girl it has ever been my misfortune to meet.”

  If anybody else had made this remark, he would have been inclined to conclude that he must have encountered Charlotte Lucas in the lane. Miss Bingley, however, was quite capable of considering anybody to be impertinent merely because they expressed an original opinion. And he could imagine that the lady who dominated his thoughts had a great many original opinions. Miss Bingley’s declaration did not exclude Elizabeth Bennet from being the woman he wanted to meet, nor did her approval of Charlotte Lucas’s manners offer any evidence which he thought significant.

  How frustrating it was that he had missed out on the chance to find out at last which of these two ladies she was. If he had any idea that she was going to be present at the dinner, he would have gone to London on a different day.

  The discovery of her identity would only be delayed a short time, he consoled himself. They were attending another dinner in a few days. He would soon know. Only a little more patience was needed.

  Other than her identity, what would he find out? Would she be as delightful as he remembered, or were his recollections coloured by the brightness of that autumn day?

  The Fickleness of Fate

  The time until their next dinner party passed quickly enough. Mr. Darcy was in an excellent mood as he dressed to go out. Tonight was the night. At last. He would meet the lady who had captivated him and find out if she truly was special.

  Elizabeth or Charlotte? Which would it be? And was there any chance that she was destined to become part of his life?

  If that were the case, could he really bring himself to be connected to either the Bennets or the Lucases? Was there a lesser between the two evils? Would he rather have the odd Sir William Lucas as his father-in-law or the talkative Mrs. Bennet as his mother-in-law.

  Whatever was he thinking? How had his thoughts turned to marriage? This was going too far. He only wanted to meet the lady and know her better. Perhaps something might come of it, but there was no reason to get so far ahead of himself at this point in time.

  He tied his cravat perfectly, put on his coat, and went to find out what fate had to offer him.

  But fate was a fickle friend. On arrival, he looked around the room as he had now done on three other occasions. There was nobody in it whom he did not already know. He watched the door as others arrived but did not see any new faces. No Charlotte. No Elizabeth. No answer to his question.

  He wandered in the direction of Lady Lucas.

  “Mr. Darcy, how pleasant to see you again,” she said. “I hope your business in London went well.”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  “It is a pity that you missed an opportunity to meet my eldest daughter.”

  “I heard that she is recovered from her illness. Is she not here this evening?”

  “No. The most unfortunate thing has happened. Her friend, Elizabeth Bennet, has taken ill. Charlotte insisted upon offering the same service which she received from her friend, so she is spending the evening at Elizabeth’s bedside.”

  “How very kind of her,” Mr. Darcy said, struggling to contain his vexation. Was he never to meet these two elusive ladies? Their kindness to each other was not doing him any service. Even worse, it suggested that he had not made any impression on the lady. If she had been as keen to meet him as he was to meet her, then surely she would have let somebody else undertake the duty of attending to the sick.

  But these were selfish thoughts. Their willingness to attend to each other was admirable. It showed a pleasing devotion to friendship and was evidence of good character. Such a lady would be an excellent addition to his family. If he or Georgiana fell ill, they would be well cared for. He imagined those pretty eyes looking at him with concern and delicate hands placing a cool cloth upon his brow.

  Here he was getting carried away again. He admonished himself for being so silly, but unbeknownst to him a small smile remained upon his face for a while.

  “Mr. Darcy seems quite pleased for a change,” Mrs. Bennet whispered to Lady Lucas. “How very remarkable. I cannot imagine why he would be.”

  ______

  Her body ached all over. Under the pile of bedclothes which Charlotte had organized, she still shivered slightly. Her head throbbed, her face burned, and her throat was sore and swollen.

  She gratefully sipped from the glass which her friend held, and weakly fell back upon the pillows. In its feverish state, her mind wandered. She saw autumn leaves falling gently, and then they turned into fluffy white feathers, wafting with elusive slowness. Her hand reached out in an attempt to catch one.

  Charlotte tucked her arm back under the covers, which briefly brought her back to the moment, but then she drifted off again. She saw a handsome face as clearly as if she was looking up at it again. She heard a pleasant voice which was firmly embedded in her memories.

  “Is he Mr. Darcy?” she said hoarsely.

  “What did you say? I could not make it out.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said again. “I want to know who he is.”

  This time Charlotte heard, but she interpreted the remark as curiosity.

  “I see you are eager for an opportunity to observe a man who is said to be so disagreeable. You shall meet him when you are better, assuming that he does not go away, of course.”

  “He must not.” Elizabeth felt this strongly, and her croaky voice rose with agitation.

  “I am sure he will not,” Charlotte said soothingly.

  “If he does I will never know him.”

  “You must rest, Lizzy. You are not making any sense.”

  “But I have to know him.”

  “Then I will tell him to stay until you can meet him.”

  In her confused state, Elizabeth was satisfied by this assurance.

  “I will meet him soon,” she whispered, slipping into a calmer state. She sank back upon the soft pillows and Charlotte placed a cool cloth upon her brow. Soothed by this relief, Elizabeth fell asleep and dreamed of feathers.

  Some Day Soon

  A few days later, Elizabeth was on the way to recovery. The fever had abated, but she still had a slight cough and little streng
th. Determined to attend a gathering at the Lucas’s house that evening, she tried to get out of bed in the morning, but it was too soon. Overcome by weakness, she required Jane’s assistance to get back into bed, where she had to accept that she would not meet Mr. Darcy on this evening. How vexatious it was that he had been absent the one time she had not. She blinked back a few tears of disappointment.

  Charlotte, who had been a frequent visitor of the last few days, came again that morning, and when she realized which of Elizabeth’s sisters was intending to stay home that night, she decided upon undertaking the task herself.

  “I do not think that Jane should miss out on any opportunity to be in company with Mr. Bingley,” she said. “I have no particular reason to mind giving up the entertainment, and we will have a pleasant evening reading together.”

  Elizabeth could not disagree with this plan, and joined her friend in telling Jane that she must go to the party. The offer was gratefully accepted, and even Mrs. Bennet said afterwards that Charlotte Lucas was a very good sort of girl.

  The two friends did spend a good part of the evening reading, but Elizabeth found that her attention often slipped away. She had heard her sisters talking about their hopes of getting up a few dances in the Lucas’s spacious drawing room, and kept wondering if Mr. Darcy was at that very moment dancing. Perhaps he was admiring his partner, absorbed in conversation, or even flirting. Had he ever wondered about her? Or had he forgotten all about their brief encounter and his intention of dancing with her at the assembly?

  He probably had. She sighed.

  “You must be tired of being in bed,” Charlotte said. “It is all my fault for giving you this illness.”

  “I do not blame you, nor do I regret staying with you.”

  “You do not regret missing out on so much.”

  “I am sure we have not missed anything particularly important.”

  “When you were feverish the other night, you were rather disappointed at not knowing Mr. Darcy.” Charlotte laughed. “It was rather amusing, Lizzy. With your particular enjoyment of watching human foibles, you were quite determined that he should not go away before you could meet him.”

  “Was I?” Elizabeth asked, wondering exactly what she had said and relieved that Charlotte had made this innocent interpretation.

  “Oh, you were excessively determined. I had to promise that I would make him stay in the neighbourhood.”

  “Good heavens! How very odd of me. I hope you do not mean that you have said anything to him.”

  “Certainly not. It was not the sort of promise which was meant to be kept. Anyway, I have not met him either. But I can offer some assurance that you will have an opportunity to meet him. My mother tells me that Mr. Bingley intends to hold a ball sometime soon. This should guarantee that Mr. Darcy will remain in the neighbourhood at least a little longer.”

  “A ball! That will be agreeable.”

  “And since you are nearly better, we will both be in attendance,” Charlotte said. “You will have plenty of opportunity to observe all of Mr. Darcy’s foibles.”

  Elizabeth, however, was wondering about the truth behind those foibles. She recalled what he had said about people thinking him proud. At the time, she had dismissed that assertion as impossible, but now it dawned on her that he might have spoken more truly than she had allowed. This could explain why he had been so unpopular. It certainly increased the likelihood that her handsome gentleman really was Mr. Darcy.

  Would he remember her? Would they ever have that dance which they had missed?”

  ______

  Mr. Darcy was watching the flirtatious behaviour of Kitty and Lydia Bennet. The presence of so many officers at the Lucas’s party gave them ample opportunity for practising this skill, in which they were evidently already quite adept. With the sound of their loud voices and excessive laughter, one could barely hear the lady who was singing and playing the pianoforte, but that was not necessarily a bad thing. The performer was Mary Bennet, whose abilities made it preferable not to hear her.

  Unfortunately, he could hear snippets of Mrs. Bennet’s conversation. Enough to understand that she had formed the expectation of Bingley proposing to her eldest daughter, and had not the sense to keep quite on the subject.

  It had not previously occurred to him that Mr. Bingley had any particular interest in Jane Bennet, but now he looked at his friend and wondered what the case really was. He was at that moment talking to her, and there was a look in his eyes which suggested that his heart was engaged.

  This was an unfortunate situation, and Mr. Darcy’s first instinct was to encourage his friend very strongly against such a connection. But then he recalled how easily he might himself have ended up in the same situation. If the lady in the lane had been Elizabeth Bennet, and he had spent the last few weeks getting to know her better, he might now be just as much in love as he suspected Bingley was. In that state, he would have been inclined to endure things which currently appalled him. A depth of personal feeling might steel one’s reserve to anything.

  Even a hint of something to come might make a man more patient than he would be otherwise. With the possibility in the back of his mind of desiring the same connection which did not seem to repel his friend, Mr. Darcy was unusually tolerant. When Lydia Bennet cried out that he should come and join the dancing, he declined, but in the politest fashion. It would not do to antagonize her just in case she should ever be his sister-in-law.

  Soon after this, Sir William Lucas made an absurd observation about dancing being the mark of civilized society. Mr. Darcy nodded a vague sort of agreement and held back a desire to observe sarcastically that even savages could dance. If this man were to be his father-in-law, he would have to accustom himself to this sort of conversation and learn to bite his tongue.

  It did occur to him, however, that the distance between Meryton and Pemberley was an excellent circumstance.

  He smiled as he watched the dancers turning and skipping energetically about, not looking especially civilized, but enjoying themselves, which was the point of the exercise after all. His thoughts turned to that dance for which he had hoped, indeed, for which he still hoped. Some day soon, he told himself. We will meet eventually. Even if I have to stay here all winter.

  Hopes and Speculation

  Elizabeth was sitting upon a sofa, having found the strength to manage the stairs this morning. The effort had been taxing, but she anticipated soon being back to her usual self. In the meantime, she resigned herself to hearing an account of the Lucas’s party, which she had truly been very desirous of attending.

  “I do think Mr. Darcy is settling in,” Mrs. Bennet said. “He has been seen to smile once or twice.”

  Elizabeth wondered what had caused him to smile after all that she had heard of his reserve. Could he have been amused by some pleasantry, or had his smiles been derisive in nature. She had heard it said that he was arrogant and thought himself above his company, but she held hope that this was all a misinterpretation.

  “He spoke very politely to me yesterday,” Lydia said. “I still cannot call him friendly, and he would not dance with us, but he is not quite so disagreeable as I first thought him.”

  “I find him pleasant,” Jane said. “He asked how you were feeling, Lizzy, which I thought very kind of him. He also said he looks forward to meeting you and Charlotte and hopes that you will be in attendance at Mr. Bingley’s ball whenever it happens.”

  “It was very good of him to think of you,” Mrs. Bennet said. “Lady Lucas is hoping that Charlotte will catch his eye. She is excessively disappointed that Maria did not take well with either of the gentlemen. Of course she never had a hope of catching Mr. Bingley. His heart was gone from the moment he set eyes upon Jane. But I will allow that Charlotte might have a better chance with Mr. Darcy. I think a dull sort of girl will suit him very well. And as Jane is to have Mr. Bingley, I will not mind if Charlotte Lucas gets Mr. Darcy.”

  Elizabeth was not pleased to hear Charlotte de
scribed as dull. Her friend might not be particularly lively, but she had a fair share of wit and intelligence. It was not worth protesting, however. At least her mother had generously hoped for the Lucases to have some share of good fortune.

  She wished the same for her friend, but with one notable dissention from her mother. She would be happy to see Charlotte married to any other gentleman in the world, but any hopes concerning Mr. Darcy were reserved for herself.

  It now occurred to her that as Mr. Darcy had not met either her or Charlotte, he must have no idea which of them was the lady he had met in the lane. If he ever thought about her, that was. But he had said that he was looking forward to meeting both of them, which was a hopeful sign. Was it possible that he had been thinking particularly of her even without knowing her name?

  ______

  When he had first come to Netherfield, Mr. Darcy had been uncertain about what to expect in Miss Bingley’s behaviour. He had been prepared to make an excuse for an early departure if necessary, but to his relief she had not excessively thrown herself at him.

  He had felt himself to be the object of her attention a little too often, but there had been nothing particularly intolerable in the situation. Perhaps the prospect of having him around on a daily basis had encouraged her to moderation.

  In the last few days, however, he had been feeling that she was gradually stepping up her campaign. He guessed that she had felt the time slipping by and decided that more drastic action was required. In addition, he and Mr. Bingley were not out shooting as much as they had first been, and he was more at hand to be the object of her pursuit.

  Now his comfort was more often disturbed by her attempts at drawing his attention. He was ready enough to offer a little conversation, which she sought with increasing frequency, but her persistent presence at his side or in close proximity was disconcerting. She would place a hand on the back of his chair and lean over to see what he was reading.