An Engaging Friendship

by AmyJ

  Feeling self-conscious, Elizabeth hid the pendant with her hand, almost

  wishing she had not agreed to wear it. "I fear it is all people will notice." She could already hear the whispers of "fortune hunter," "upstart," "arts and

  allurements..." Worse, she could not refute accusations of marrying Darcy for his money; it had been the impetus for her acceptance.

  "It was very thoughtful of Mr. Darcy," Jane said, pulling Elizabeth from her self-loathing. "Mama was right. ‘What jewels you shall have!'"

  Her sister's imitation of her mother caused Elizabeth's worries to dissolve into a fit giggles. Before her concerns could return, a carriage could be heard in front of the house, and the girls were being called post haste.

  When Darcy first spied Elizabeth, he was certain she was a chimera sent to

  torment him. Her gown showed her light and pleasing figure to great

  advantage, and her hair was done up in a fashion that seemed to accentuate her very fine eyes. It was not until Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner greeted him, that he was convinced she was real. Barely in control of his faculties, he returned a brief greeting.

  "Will Georgiana not be joining us this evening?" Elizabeth inquired, dismissing the unfamiliar expression Darcy wore.

  "She rode ahead with the Dowager and Mr. Pearce," Darcy replied stiffly.

  Then, regaining his manners, said, "You look..." He struggled for the correct word. How did one compliment a friend on her appearance? "... very pretty, Elizabeth."

  "Thank you, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth replied with false coyness. She greeted Lord Blakeslee, who had already moved to Jane's side. After a gathering of

  cloaks, gloves, and beavers, the party was underway.

  As the carriage neared the theatre, Elizabeth could not help examining the

  crowd, and all of her unease returned. She tried to tell herself that it did not matter what they thought, but to little effect. Before stepping out of the

  carriage, she took a deep breath. Stop acting like such a ninny.

  Darcy offered her his arm, which she accepted with a smile, and felt her

  courage rise. She was not alone, and Darcy would not permit anything

  untoward to occur. She made a point of holding her head high, and almost

  succeeded in ignoring the stares directed towards her as they made their way to the Blakeslee box.

  The moment they reached the box, she was greeted by a warm embrace from

  Georgiana, and relaxed even more. There was a brief exchange of greetings,

  but as the performance was to begin soon, all other discourse was put on hold.

  She was about to invite Georgiana to sit with her, but her future sister was already being escorted by Darcy to a seat beside Mr. Julian Pearce. Certain Darcy would want his sister nearby, Elizabeth was confused by his actions,

  until she realized a more ideal seating arrangement was quite impossible. The others had already claimed their seats, and there were now only two vacant

  chairs in the back row.

  Her disappointment must have shown, because as soon as she was seated, Darcy asked, "Are you comfortable?"

  "I am. I had only thought to sit with Georgiana..."

  Darcy looked over at his sister, who appeared to be exchanging polite

  conversation with Julian Pearce. "She is fine. She has known the Pearces all her life."

  If Elizabeth was surprised by Darcy's cavalier attitude, she did not have a chance to express it. The lights dimmed at that moment, and the curtain rose, indicating the beginning of the performance.

  After the performance and a light dinner at Arryndale, the Gardiners, Jane and Elizabeth returned to Gracechurch Street. Elizabeth pled fatigue and retired before her aunt or sister could draw her into recounting the evening. In truth, sleep was far from her mind. Her spirits were low, and she needed solitude to order her thoughts.

  Once alone, she began to undress, not even waiting for the appearance of the maid to assist her, and replayed the night in her head.

  The evening had not ended nearly as well as it had begun. Something had gone dreadfully wrong; though what it was, she could not say. Darcy had been in a foul mood ever since intermission, even though she had thought things had

  progressed better than expected.

  It was true, the attention of the other theatre patrons was a bit overwhelming, but no one had insulted her directly. There were several cool looks, a number of impertinent questions, and a few suggestive statements, but nothing

  unexpected and no grave insults. If anything, the experience was a bit

  repetitive. The same questions were asked again and again, and she attempted to smile pleasantly while replying with the same inane answers. My father's estate is in Hertfordshire. No, he does not have house in town. Yes, I knew Lady Anne Darcy. I have often been to Pemberley. I play the pianoforte, but only a little. No, I did not study under a master."

  The only break from this ritual was the appearance of Miss Bingley, with her brother and another young lady dutifully following her. With a shake of the head, Elizabeth mused over the woman's boldness and conceit.

  "Lady Blakeslee! Mr. Darcy! How wonderful to see you!" Miss Bingley cried as she made her way through the gathered crowd in the Blakeslees' box. She

  had spared the briefest of glances in Elizabeth's direction, before returning her focus to Mr. Darcy. "It has been an age, Mr. Darcy." Then, turning to Mr.

  Bingley with a coquettish smile, Miss Bingley drawled, "Charles, we really must invite the Darcys over for dinner soon."

  Elizabeth felt Darcy stiffen at Miss Bingley's attention, and then place a

  protective hand over hers. "I had the pleasure of dining with your brother the

  other day, Miss Bingley," Darcy replied, and then nodded to Bingley in greeting. "You remember my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth, do you not, Miss Bingley."

  With a pinched smile, Miss Bingley clipped, "Why of course... May I wish you joy, Mr. Darcy." She seemed to choke on the words. Then, with a forced half laugh, she added, "I must own, I thought it quite a lark when I first heard of it.

  That is until Charles confirmed it." She looked as though she would say something else, but did not.

  "I assure you, Miss Bingley," Darcy said, gravely serious, "it is no lark.

  Elizabeth and I are to be wed in April." The chime of the warning bell had saved them all from further discourse.

  Having done away with the rest of the finery of the evening, Elizabeth rubbed the pendant and chain with a soft cloth and tucked it in its case. She giggled over the remembrance of Miss Bingley's double take and almost feral look

  when she noticed the bauble. For a moment, Elizabeth had feared Miss Bingley might have tried to snatch it from around her neck. Thankfully, it had not come to blows.

  Elizabeth trudged the few steps to the bed and slipped under the counterpane.

  She still did not understand her betrothed's changed demeanour. Was she the only who had noticed it? She let out a frustrated sigh and continued recounting the evening.

  While Darcy had never been comfortable around Miss Bingley, his ill humour

  was rarely displayed in the lady's presence. Then recalling Mr. Bingley's

  behaviour, Elizabeth considered he may have been the source of her betrothed's incommodity. Mr. Bingley had done little more than give a silent greeting

  during the entire exchange; quite the opposite of his usual friendly interactions.

  Perhaps Darcy had mentioned Miss Bingley's visit to Arryndale to Bingley, and their relationship had become strained over it. If that was the cause though, why had he appeared so jovial earlier in the evening? No, it was something

  more than a strained friendship.

  While she understood his discomfort in public, his reticence continued, even in his own home. All through dinner, and coffee and cakes afterwards, he was

  polite, but contributed little to the conversation. She had attempted to relieve the strain of a taci
turn host and shy hostess by trying to make herself agreeable to all the guests, and though it was not yet her role, gave attention to the Blakeslees, as was fitting of longstanding friends of Mr Darcy. Was it possible he was angry at her for her presumption?

  It would certainly explain his coldness when they had said their goodbyes.

  Darcy had kissed her hand, but it was merely a peck; and when he handed her into the carriage, he had turned immediately, instead of waiting to see her secure in a seat.

  Had she been too presumptuous? Was it causing him to regret their engagement? Unable to help herself, she began listing the reasons why it was possible. First there was the attention of the ton, and the increased attention from Miss Bingley. Then there was Colonel Fitzwilliam asking to call on Jane, not to mention Lord Blakeslee's marked attention to her sister. If that was not enough, there was her bold presumption that evening. The icing on the cake

  was the expenditures he had taken upon himself in securing her a new

  wardrobe and a ladies maid. The pendant she wore that night had cost him

  plenty! She felt her stomach lurch. It was becoming too much for him! It would be too much for any person in Darcy's position. She felt a cold shiver as she contemplated how long the engagement would last, and knowing once the

  engagement ended, the friendship likely would too.

  Realizing there was nothing she could do, she closed her eyes and attempted to think on something else, anything else. It was not to be. Over and over, she practiced gracefully accepting his decision, while searching for the right words that might save their friendship. Needless to say, she tossed and turned most of the night, not falling asleep until the early hours of morning.

  The doors to Arryndale House had been locked long ago, and the servants

  dismissed for the night. Yet, in the Master's Suite, a single candle burned, while the master of the house brooded in front of the hearth.

  How? He asked himself over and over again. How did I let this happen? How

  did I not see this coming? Despite his every inclination and attempt at a logical explanation, he had to admit he was in love with Elizabeth. But how had it

  happened?

  When did Li'l Beth turn into Elizabeth? And when did Elizabeth turn into...

  well... Elizabeth. He felt like beating his head against the wall.

  Realizing the futility of those questions, he turned his thoughts to the other questions that had plagued his conscience, like how to protect Elizabeth from the ton? Throughout the introductions during the evening's intermission, he had noticed each and every appreciative look and leer sent in her direction, and he had been powerless to stop them.

  To make matters worse, Elizabeth had returned that bewitching, teasing smile to those men; the one that seemingly dared the recipient to try and intimidate her. Did she not realize how that only increased her desirability? And that not all men were honourable?

  He let out an audible groan at the visceral reaction the mere thought of those pretty lips curled in that manner inspired. He needed to quit thinking of her, and now. He groped around for something else... someone else... a name.

  Wesley. Yes, he would think about his friend. It was Wesley's fault they had been there that night.

  He felt better as desire turned towards anger. It was Wesley's fault Elizabeth had been subjected to such attentions. He was the one who suggested the

  theatre. If that was not enough, Wesley had monopolized Elizabeth's attention throughout dinner and dessert. Darcy's scowl grew, remembering the way the

  two of them had jousted and laughed together. Anger then turned to alarm. If things continued in this manner, he realized, it would only be a matter of time before Wesley realized his error and turned his attention from Jane to

  Elizabeth. Wesley was an astute man, and would have noticed Elizabeth's keen intelligence and sharp wit. Once Wesley began paying her attention, Elizabeth was sure to fall for his easy manner and charm. All women did. Then all would be lost. He would have to let her go; not only because they had given each

  other leave to break the engagement, but also because he wanted her to be

  happy.

  He punched the back of a nearby chair angrily. How had he not predicted this?

  How had he let this happen? He had thought himself quite clever in suggesting Elizabeth spend time in town. This... these feelings... were not part of the plan!

  He needed to get things back on course

  . He took a deep breath and shook out the pain in his fisted hand. He would conquer this. If he fell in love, he could fall out of love. Had he not seen Bingley do it a hundred times? It would just take a little diligence on his part.

  He would quit loving Elizabeth. He would!

  Two days following the theatre, Lord Blakeslee entered Arryndale and knocked on the door to Darcy's study. When he was bid entry, he sauntered in and

  drawled, "I am surprised to find you here. I expected you to be spending all your time with your lovely fiancée."

  A jealous rage surged through Darcy, but he quickly squelched it. "Not that it is any of your concern, but I am trying to finish some business so I can join her for tea." He did nothing to hide his irritation at the interruption.

  "Still brooding, I see. I suppose I might be too if it were my sister enjoying my betrothed's company, while I was stuck with only tedious papers." Blakeslee chuckled. "You do have it bad, ol' man."

  Darcy glowered at him, though the unasked question was visible in the arch of his brow. "Cardwell told me Miss Darcy was out with Miss Bennet. Mother asked me to invite her to tea this afternoon, since Julian leaves for Cambridge in less than a se'nnight."

  "Perhaps something can be arranged for tomorrow, but there is no hurry.

  Georgiana's coming out is not for two years." When Blakeslee shrugged, Darcy stated, "Surely you did not come all this way to issue an invitation to tea."

  "No. I came to see if you were out of your black mood yet, which I see you are not, and to issue you a warning."

  "When, pray tell, was I in a black mood?" Darcy's eyes narrowed, the only indication of his flared temper.

  Wesley chuckled, "The night of the theatre. You sulked through dinner, and then all but pushed us out the door."

  "I am surprised you noticed." Distracted as you were with MY Elizabeth.

  "Of course I noticed; who could not? You barely spoke to Miss Elizabeth, much less anyone else. I do hope you have apologized to her already, or you will be fortunate not to find your tea in your lap."

  Darcy hung his head in shame. "I apologize." He ran a hand through his hair.

  "It was a difficult evening. I... I had not expected so much attention..." When Wesley scoffed, he added hastily, "I meant towards Elizabeth. She is unused to such scrutiny, and I had hoped to spare..."

  "Mother said she seemed to fare well..." Blakeslee eyed Darcy carefully. When his friend said nothing, he baited, "If I did not know better, I would say you were having a lover's tiff." He snickered and held up his hands. "No, I do not wish to know the details, but if is it true, I suggest you make amends. You look wretched."

  If only it was that simple. "I have done nothing wrong; Elizabeth and I are not quarrelling." Then, in an impatient tone, he asked, "Have you any further business? I would like to finish these papers and must leave in an hour."

  "Very well." Blakeslee paused for a moment, carefully phrasing his words. It was a sensitive topic, so caution was required. "How are things between you and Mr. Bingley?"

  "Fine. We had lunch just the other day. Why do you ask?"

  "I saw Miss Bingley at the theatre. She seems to be harbouring a grudge against all the Bennets; she was rather disparaging to Miss Bennet."

  Darcy's jaw hardened. "Miss Bingley harboured deep hopes of becoming Mrs.

  Darcy. What has this to do with her brother?"

  "Mr. Bingley was with her, and did nothing to curb his sister's tongue. He does not posses any ill feelings towards the Bennets
, does he?"

  "Hardly. Why you are discussing this with me? Or have you taken to the gossip rooms."

  "Nothing like that," Blakeslee chortled. "Only a few interesting occurrences I thought you should be made aware of. Despite being the progeny of a

  tradesman, Miss Bingley is more well-known amongst Town than your Miss

  Elizabeth; and if Miss Bingley is as you say, she is most likely making her opinion of the Bennets widely known. And, with the company Mr. Bingley

  seems to be keeping these days..."

  "Company?"

  "Saw him at Watier's the other night, with Greisen of all people, and someone else with whom I am unacquainted." Darcy pursed his lips. Bingley had been merely a casual acquaintance of Greisen's in his later years Cambridge, and for good reason. Greisen's reputation was well known; he was a gambler and a

  rake. "From the look on Mr. Bingley's face, he was a bit foxed and not faring very well."

  "Bingley is his own man, what he does is his own business," Darcy retorted, feigning disinterest. "Unless he acts against the Bennets or myself, it is not of my concern."

  "All the same... You should be wary of him, and especially his sister's company. They could make things difficult for your Miss Elizabeth."

  "I will take it under advisement. Thank you, Wesley." Darcy glanced once again at the clock. "Is there anything else?"

  Wesley shook his head with half chuckle. "No, no... I shall not delay your reunion with your Miss Elizabeth, any longer."

  After Wesley left Arryndale, Darcy quickly finished a last few items of

  business, and then readied himself to meet Elizabeth for tea. Franklin had him impeccably dressed in no time; all that was left was the mental preparation.

  What Wesley had said about the Bingleys intrigued him more than he had let

  on, but his bigger concern was Elizabeth. If his friend and Lady Blakeslee had noticed his grim demeanour the other night, Elizabeth would have too. He

  would apologize, but without explaining the source of his discomfiture. Most importantly, he would remain in control of his feelings. Distant, but friendly, he reminded himself.

  On the way to Gracechurch Street, he made an unplanned stop at a flower cart.