Darcy's Charade

by Meghan Parrish

  Chapter Eight

  "Certain people must regard you as an excellent marriage prospect. They would even go so far as to pursue you in order to...win you...for their husband."

  Darcy twisted a bit of thread in his fingers before responding sarcastically.

  "If you must know, I was referring to myself as a bachelor. Marriage, in the eyes of society, would redeem me. A wife would, without doubt, reform me. And although as a single man I am cast in the role of one who has gone beyond the pale, as far as wedlock is concerned, I believe you are quite right—I am seen as an excellent marriage prospect."

  There has to be more to it than that, she reflected.

  Unmarried men were not chastise by society. The single state was not sufficient—nor was sowing a few wild oats. What had he done? How had he managed to shock people? Was it something really evil? Or had it merely been his arrogance on display?

  She couldn't ask him, that was plain enough. The mood he was in at the moment, he would simply throw her out of the carriage and that would be that.

  They traveled in silence for a mile or so. Then Darcy spoke. "You certainly have not been told much about me, have you?" he demanded seriously.

  Elizabeth went as stiff and straight as a fireside poker. "No," she informed him. "And I would not have listened if I had been."

  "What?" he questioned, horrified.

  Elizabeth smiled. Well, that had shaken his composure! Serve him right for trying to patronize her!

  "Frankly," she announced, "from what I have seen, if one judged every person they met on what the vicious gossips had done to their reputations, one would have no friends at all."

  Darcy stared at Elizabeth for several seconds.

  "I prefer to make up my own mind about these things," Elizabeth interrupted.

  "You could land yourself in a great deal of trouble by doing that."

  "I could land myself in a great deal of trouble by not doing that," she retorted. "Are you going to tell me why Miss Bingley is determined to marry you?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it bores me."

  Elizabeth pouted at this, but made no comment.

  By now they had reached the the city border, and as it was late, Darcy decided that they should stay overnight in the next inn they reached. The only suite of rooms available in the hostelry was one which incorporated two bedrooms, one in the main part of the building which Darcy took for himself, and the other in a sort of annex, which Elizabeth had.

  To get to her bedroom, Elizabeth had to go through Darcy's. As she did so, later that night, he handed her a little bolt.

  "It fits in your door," he remarked.

  Elizabeth glanced at him, bewildered. "Do you think I shall need it?" she queried.

  "Definitely."

  "Why?"

  It had seemed such a pleasant inn in such a sleepy gentle town. What on earth could she want to put a bolt on her door for?

  "To keep away unwelcome visitors," Darcy informed her.

  Elizabeth's eyebrows raised. Surely he was not referring to himself.

  She had taken her plainest gowns with her, good, sensible, sturdy, long-lasting garments. Compared with Caroline Bingley's exquisite, extravagant, elegant, ultra-fashionable wardrobe, her own attire was very dull. Mr. Darcy was simply implying that she looked sufficiently ravishing to inflame the passions of some other stranger—never him.

  Elizabeth's bewilderment increased.

  "Miss Bingley must spend a great deal of money on her apparel, wouldn't you say?" she inquired.

  "Yes."

  "Doesn't it make her lovely?"

  "In a superficial way, I suppose." Darcy frowned disapprovingly and then gazed at her quizzically.

  "Do you believe that clothing makes women beautiful?" he queried.

  "I have been told it is so," she replied.

  "Ah."

  "And what does that significant sounding ah mean?"

  "That it isn't true—at least not as far as I am concerned."

  "Oh?"

  Elizabeth's interest and her curiosity were aroused.

  "For me," Darcy explained, "a woman is either desirable or not, as the case may be. What she is wearing at the time—if anything—doesn't matter a jot."

  Elizabeth felt her color rising. "I see," she responded primly.

  "Good night, Miss Bennet." He laughed at her discomfiture.

  "Good night, Mr. Darcy," she returned quietly.

  "Don't forget the bolt!"

  No. I won't forget that, Elizabeth thought grimly as she fixed it in place. Wretched man!

  * * * *

  The following morning, both Darcy and Elizabeth were in high spirits. They came down to breakfast together, enthusiastically discussing the next leg of their forthcoming journey to London.

  Suddenly Darcy's face darkened. "Damn!" he muttered. And then, more audibly! "I thought we had lost her."

  Elizabeth glanced in the direction he had been looking. Though she could not see Caroline herself, the latter's gray and black carriage was unmistakable.

  "Oh, dear," she remarked.

  "A nuisance, is it not?" Darcy commiserated. "You will have to put off your plans for a while, I'm afraid."

  "Pardon?" Elizabeth questioned.

  "I'm asking you to continue to protect me from that fiend," he clarified, "and that means postponing whatever it was you intended to do once we reached London."

  "Oh. For how long?"

  He shrugged. "A week or two at the very least," he said casually. "Perhaps even a month."

  "Oh," Elizabeth mused.

  She had a feeling that her mother, and especially Mr. Collins, would not approve. She could almost hear them lecturing her, "Didn't she know that a single woman traveling unchaperoned with a single man was bound to cause comment?"

  Yes, she did, but she was pretending to be his cousin, which should stifle any gossip.

  But for how long?

  As long as necessary. Well...it would be all right unless they ran into one of his real relations.

  And then?

  And then...

  Let them remonstrate, Elizabeth decided.

  She liked this. Mr. Darcy may be overbearing at times, but she had enjoyed every minute of it so far and there was no reason why she should not continue to have fun. She was going to go with him. Besides, she wasn't hurting anyone, was she?

  A small voice inside her warned her that she might well be hurting someone besides herself—Jane.

  "So you want me to stay with you," Elizabeth stated, "to see you do not get into any dark secluded corners alone with the terrible Caroline Bingley."

  "Precisely," Darcy replied.

  "I shall do my best."

  "Thank you."

  As he uttered the word, Caroline, who had by now entered the dining room where they were having breakfast, caught sight of him.

  "Ah, Mr. Darcy!" she cooed, sweeping across the floor towards him and fluttering her eyelashes. "How delightful to see you! How did you know I was staying here?"

  As on previous occasions, Mr. Darcy rose to his feet and bowed low.

  "I regret to have to disillusion you, Miss Bingley," he returned.

  "Oh?" Caroline inquired, taking her gloves off and making as if to join him.

  "I had no idea you proposed to stay here," he explained. "My cousin and I arrived here last night. We were just about to leave."

  Caroline's smile of triumph faded as she became aware of Elizabeth's presence.

  "We meet again, Miss Bennet," she said unenthusiastically.

  "So it would seem," Elizabeth agreed. "How do you do?"

  "How do you do?" Caroline answered automatically.

  "Did you have a pleasant trip?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Yes, thank you. And you?"

  Elizabeth could not help smiling at the way in which the courtesies were being dragged out of Caroline.

  "Absolutely delightful!" she gushed. "I am having a wonderful time."

>   "How nice," Caroline responded, insincerely. "And where are you going from here?"

  "Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth informed her, emphasizing his name, "is taking me to Darcy House."

  "Really?" Caroline's interest was not feigned.

  "Yes. I have never been there and Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth continued, "is indulging me. Don't you think that is sweet of him?"

  Caroline's eyes flashed. "Extremely," she made herself concur. She turned to Darcy. "I had no idea you could be so generous," she added.

  Darcy's face was as black as a thundercloud. "If you will excuse us," he returned. "I believe our carriage is waiting."

  "Of course," Caroline murmured, standing aside to allow him to pass.

  Darcy held out his hand to Elizabeth, assisted her to rise and preceded her as they left the dining room. When they were out of earshot, he rounded on her.

  "Why on earth did you tell her where we were going?" he demanded angrily. "Don't you realize she'll follow us there?"

  "Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth pointed out, "If Miss Bingley is determined to follow us, she will do so whether or not I mention where we are going."

  "She might not..."

  "Anyway," Elizabeth cut in before he could proceed, "she might not believe me, and then she might wander off on her own looking for you in the wrong places. Who knows?"

  Darcy looked at her, his eyes brightening. "What a clever prospect," he declared. "Do you believe it will work, though?"

  Elizabeth shrugged. "Probably not."

  Chapter Nine

  But alas, it did not. Later that day as they arrived in London, Caroline caught up with them. It was a cool, but sunny day. They were driving towards Darcy House, which Darcy had prepared a room for Elizabeth, blissfully unaware that they had been observed.

  Caroline's sharp eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Darcy and Elizabeth as their carriage wound its leisurely way through the city. They behaved as if they were not strangers, but had known each other all their lives.

  "I'm going to put a stop to this!" Caroline resolved aloud.

  "Hello!" she called out to them. "Good afternoon! How nice to see you!"

  Darcy's smile faded as he acknowledged Caroline with that distant, formal politeness which Elizabeth was beginning to associate with his displeasure.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Bingley," he said coldly.

  "Good afternoon!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What a surprise to see you here."

  Caroline, looking absolutely stunning in a lilac and white velvet ensemble came closer.

  "Didn't I say I was coming to visit?" she inquired innocently.

  "No, you did not!" Darcy almost snapped the words.

  "I could have sworn that I did," Caroline responded.

  "But you didn't," Elizabeth stated.

  "Didn't I? Ah well. No matter," Caroline returned.

  "I intended to visit Darcy House and then go on to visit my sister in Grosvenor Square."

  Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy replied to this and after a brief pause, Caroline went on. "When I saw you here I simply had to say hello," she remarked.

  "Of course," Elizabeth murmured.

  "Naturally," Darcy growled between clenched teeth.

  Caroline forced a laugh. "Would you like to hear something amusing?" she asked.

  "Yes, please," Elizabeth answered. "What is it?"

  "Only that when we first met I was under the impression you two had only just become acquainted," Caroline answered.

  "We had," Elizabeth confirmed, "in a manner of speaking."

  Caroline was skeptical. "And yet when I saw you a moment ago, you seemed...not at all strangers," she noted slyly. "You behaved as if you knew each other very well."

  Elizabeth spotted the innuendo. In an instant she knew what Caroline was hinting at and she was confident she could deflect the thrust.

  "We are related," she reminded Caroline, "and in my experience relatives know each other instinctively. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Darcy?"

  "Yes. Exactly," Darcy concurred.

  "How nice for you both!" Caroline exclaimed sarcastically.

  Elizabeth ignored the edge in the other woman's voice. "Yes, it is wonderful!" she declared.

  Caroline tapped her foot impatiently.

  "What sort of trip did you have into London?" she inquired.

  "A pleasant one," Darcy answered.

  "Pleasant?" Elizabeth echoed. "It was more than that. Tell her the truth now, Mr. Darcy. We have had a marvelous journey so far, haven't we?"

  Darcy's lips twitched. "It has certainly been more interesting than I had anticipated," he allowed.

  The intimacy in his voice was noticeable. He seemed to be sharing a private joke with Elizabeth and he exhibited a degree of closeness towards her from which Caroline was barred.

  "It has been fantastic!" Elizabeth cried.

  Darcy took her hand and kissed it tenderly, astonishment played across the faces of both ladies.

  "I am glad you have enjoyed yourself so much," he murmured.

  Elizabeth smiled warmly at him in response.

  Caroline pursed her lips as she watched the scene. She was having difficulty in suppressing her desire to scratch Elizabeth's eyes out. That this plebeian, this plain little upstart, should succeed where she had failed! It was insupportable!

  "You must find London quite a change from—oh, dear, how stupid of me!" Caroline paused and laughed deliberately. "I have forgotten the name of the little village you said you came from, Miss Bennet."

  "Meryton," Elizabeth supplied promptly. "The same little village where your brother now resides."

  Darcy only barely managed to choke back his mirth.

  Caroline gasped with rage. The tables had been neatly turned on her and she had fallen into her own trap.

  "But you are right, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth continued, unruffled. "London is very different from Meryton. It is so much larger, for a start."

  "Definitely," Darcy commented.

  Caroline ground her teeth. She saw that she was not getting anywhere and since she did not relish the prospect of being hoist by her own petard a second time, she excused herself saying that she had an appointment.

  "We shall not keep you," Darcy returned.

  And Caroline was chagrined to see that he parted from her with alacrity.

  "Sorry she's gone?" Elizabeth questioned, observing that Darcy's eyes were on Caroline as she rode away.

  "No!" Darcy exclaimed with feeling. "I would rather face an entire enemy battalion on my own than endure her company for ten minutes," he answered.

  "Why were you looking at her then?"

  "I was thinking."

  "Of what?"

  "How many dresses have you brought with you?"

  "Three. Why?"

  "I thought so. In that case, we must get you some new clothes as soon as possible."

  "Whatever for?"

  "Because I feel it is necessary."

  "Nonsense!"

  "It is not nonsense."

  "What's wrong with the ones I have?"

  "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

  "Then I see no reason to purchase new ones."

  An arrogant grin played on Darcy's lips. "Do you intend to leave me to my fate?" he inquired.

  "I don't follow you," Elizabeth returned.

  "Are you going to desert me? Leave me defenseless against the attacks of that woman?"

  "No," Elizabeth assured him. "But I do not see what that has to do with my having new clothes."

  "How can you protect me from Caroline's wiles if you do not have the—er—proper equipment?"

  "I do wish you would speak plainly, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth exclaimed in exasperation. "I really cannot understand you!"

  Darcy surveyed her thoughtfully. "I have never been good at explaining myself to others."

  "You must practice, sir," Elizabeth grinned at him.

  "My days and nights are spent in the social whirl," he reminded her. "I am invited to balls, soirees, and dinners. You know the
sort of thing?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you must also know that one cannot go to a grand ball in London where most of the women will be attired in the best dress, in a gown which is not only old, but which you were wearing yesterday."

  "I don't see why not," Elizabeth retorted stubbornly. "My wardrobe is perfectly adequate, thank you. I do not need any more."

  Darcy appeared to surrender. "As you wish," he said. "I merely wanted to spare you the embarrassment which those delightfully simple little dresses of yours would bring you."

  Elizabeth glared at him. Conceited man!

  "However," he continued, "if Caroline's catty comments and the snide remarks of the other women won't worry you, by all means put on your rustic outfits whenever we go out together."

  Elizabeth's mouth curved down. She was no stranger to high society. She knew perfectly well the unkind words which would be whispered if she arrived at a ball or a dinner attired in one of her "sensible" ensembles.

  "I cannot afford new clothes," she stated bluntly.

  "But I can," Darcy pointed out.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I shall pay for them. You need not worry."

  Elizabeth was scandalized. But how could she refuse his offer? She certainly could not pay for new dresses out of her own pocket.

  "You are most provoking, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth declared.

  "I?" Darcy asked.

  "Yes, you!"

  "That is debatable."

  "No it isn't. You know very well that I cannot go out with you wearing a dress like the ones I brought with me. You’ve maneuvered me into a position where I have to say yes."

  Darcy nodded. "So you accept my offer?" he queried.

  "I have no alternative—and you know it," she stated.

  His lifted his head with pride, and made no further comment.

  "But I don't like the idea," Elizabeth added.

  "You have made that perfectly clear, Miss Bennet," Darcy told her.

  "I am sure I should not consent to this."

  "Obviously not," Darcy agreed complacently. "You ought to have struck me full in the face while shouting at the top of your voice."

  "Should I?"

  "Definitely," he proceeded in the same slightly mocking vein. "It is hardly the sort of suggestion that a lady should permit a gentleman in my position to make."

  Elizabeth sighed with exasperation and decided that the only way to stop him baiting her was to change the subject.