Darcy’s Voyage

by Kara Louise

  “You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley, “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.”

  “Certainly not.”

  “What could she mean by walking three miles in dirt? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum.”

  Darcy stood up and walked to the window, looking out as he fought the rising tide of angry words he wished to lash out in Elizabeth’s defence. But from years of discipline, he was able to reply coolly, “As much as you find her behaviour offensive, I found her devotion to her sister, whom she had not seen in several months, very engaging, and the result of her exercise to be a most brilliant complexion.”

  “I agree!” exclaimed Bingley. “I could not have stated it better!”

  The two sisters continued, however, to disparage the Bennets, their low connections, and their uncle in trade near Cheapside.

  “If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”

  Darcy moved to the door. “I, for one, have had enough of this attack on Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and the rest of the family. They are both fine ladies, and who their family connections are, how they choose to travel around the neighbourhood, and even their decided lack of fashion are not enough to convince me of any poor manners or lack of anything to recommend them. If you will excuse me…”

  Caroline Bingley was left with a most nagging, distressful thought that somehow Mr. Darcy had come under the spell of the Bennets, just as her brother unfortunately had.

  ***

  Darcy returned to his room and remained there as long as he felt that propriety allowed him. Just the thought that Elizabeth was down the hall from him was both a great source of joy and temptation to him. How much he wanted to walk down there now, confess his love, take her in his arms, tell her they were still married, and carry her back to Pemberley… to London… or to his room.

  At length he determined he ought to join the others downstairs. He had finished his book and decided he would stop by Bingley’s library first.

  It was true that Bingley’s library was only a tenth of what Pemberley’s was, but he was confident he would be able to find a book he would enjoy reading. He walked around the room, looking up and down the shelves, picking up a book here and there. He pulled a book from the shelf, noticing the title, smiled, and then placed it back where it had been. He walked to the far wall and stood reading the titles when he heard someone walk in.

  He turned and saw that it was Elizabeth. She stepped in and walked toward the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  Not wanting to startle her, he whispered softly, “Elizabeth.”

  She turned quickly and in response to seeing him, she cried out, “William! I mean… Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy smiled, slowly taking a step toward her, aware only of how beautiful she looked to him. “Do you recall how much I wanted you to call me William or even Fitzwilliam when we were on the ship? Yet you rarely did.”

  Elizabeth looked down, feeling quite shaken. He took another step, bridging some of the distance between them.

  “As much as I enjoy hearing you call me by my given name, I think it would be prudent if you do not call me that while you are here. It might cause some scandalous conjecture by one Caroline Bingley.”

  Elizabeth saw him smile, and his gaze was intent upon her face as he took yet another step toward her. She wondered if he was teasing her, warning her, or simply stating the truth. Her mind refused to comprehend any rational thought.

  Finding it difficult to look upon him standing so close to her, she turned toward the bookshelf, as if to study the titles. “I must admit I was surprised to see you here. I had no idea you were at Netherfield.”

  “You had no way of knowing I would be here.”

  Elizabeth looked down suddenly. She took in a deep breath as her fingers tightly gripped the muslin on her dress once she noticed she had come completely under his shadow, his tall frame blocking the candlelight in the room.

  Sensing the distress she was feeling, he calmly and deliberately told her, “I beg you not to feel uneasy. I only recently discovered you lived so close to my friend Bingley and that you were Miss Jane Bennet’s sister, so I was a little better prepared to see you.” He took another step toward her so that now, if he wanted to, he could easily reach out and take her hand. “Although since I was unaware of when you would return home, your appearance this morning took me by surprise as well.”

  They stood in silence for what seemed an eternity.

  When Elizabeth did not seem inclined to respond, Darcy said to her, “You left our cabin that last night on the ship and did not return. You got off the ship the next morning without saying goodbye. Why?”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. Did she just imagine that his soft voice seemed tinged with a bit of sadness? She knew not how to answer him and turned briefly back toward him, needing to take a deep breath and gather her thoughts.

  “And you conveniently neglected to tell me that you were the owner of Pemberley’s Promise.”

  Elizabeth heard him breathe in deeply. “Yes, that is true.”

  Darcy’s jaw tightened as he saw Elizabeth’s turmoil. There was so much he wanted to say, and did not even know where to begin.

  “How did you find out…?”

  He was interrupted by the sound of very determined strides walking in, and Elizabeth, still reeling from the encounter, only vaguely noticed a dash of orange come toward them. A very audible groan escaped from Darcy as he took a quick step away from Elizabeth, but she took no notice.

  “Ah, there you are, Mr. Darcy!” Caroline’s eyes flashed like daggers at Elizabeth, noticing how close they were standing to each other, and the fact that they were alone together in the library. She was sure she had arrived just in time to rescue Darcy from a most indelicate situation.

  Elizabeth watched Caroline sidle up next to him and slip her hand snugly inside his arm. She kept her gaze upon Elizabeth, who was suffering the effects of being either quite pale from alarm or quite red from confusion.

  “Come, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline adamantly insisted. “We are waiting for you to join us in the drawing room.” She turned to Elizabeth. “You may come along as well, if you like, Miss Bennet.”

  Not wishing to provide Miss Bingley with any further fodder to kindle her speculations and gossip about Elizabeth, Darcy quickly said to her, “Miss Bennet, that book I recommended is on the second shelf there.”

  Elizabeth looked at him with a perplexed look across her face. He simply pointed to the bookshelf behind her and said, “It is the one with the black cover and gold filigree writing. Second shelf, behind you. I think you will enjoy it.”

  Elizabeth watched him walk out with Caroline still possessively holding his arm. She closed her eyes as she considered how quickly he had reassured Charles’s sister that their conversation in the library had been solely for the purpose of finding a book.

  She turned slowly back to the shelf, her heart beginning to feel the slightest tear in the realization he did not wish Caroline to get the wrong impression.

  Her eyes drifted to the second shelf as he had mentioned and was surprised when she did see a black book with gold filigree writing.

  Absently she pulled it off the shelf. Hmmm. Richard III. I read that a couple of years ago, she said to herself, as she opened it. Upon looking at the first line of the book, she gasped.

  Now is the winter of our discontent; made glorious summer by this sun of York.

  She turned back to the now empty door and then looked back down at the book in her hands, the same one she had been reading two years ago in the carriage when she first met him. And now her heart leapt. Certainly he could not remember! Could he?

  Chapter 20

  Elizabeth lingered in the library for several minutes after Caroline walked out with D
arcy. While her heart felt the painful tug at seeing the two of them together, it was at the same time grasping at any hint, any indication, that he might hold tender regard for her.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. Of course he would hold her in his esteem, if ever so slightly! They had a most amiable relationship onboard the ship. They lived for almost a month together posing as man and wife. Well, practically man and wife, Lizzy reminded herself, willing herself to remember the terms of their marriage. Was there any chance that his feelings for her would outweigh any feelings for or previous arrangement he had with Miss Bingley?

  She looked down at the book in her hands and chided herself for even thinking he remembered that day in the carriage two years ago, let alone remember what she had been reading. He most likely just said the first thing that came to his mind when Caroline discovered them in there, and the black book with the gold filigree writing just happened to be this particular one.

  She slowly turned and walked out of the library, compelled more by a sense of right than of pleasure, to join the others in the drawing room.

  When she walked in, she found the whole party at loo and was immediately invited to join them, but she declined, saying she would amuse herself for a short time with her book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

  “Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he. “That is rather singular.”

  “Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else.”

  “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth. “I am not a great reader and I take pleasure in many things.”

  “In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley, “and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”

  “And I would not be surprised to learn that she finds pleasure in helping others, as well,” Darcy spoke matter-of-factly as he kept his eyes tuned to his cards.

  Elizabeth, unable to turn her eyes to Darcy, and feeling all the conviction that she could not look upon him for fear of exposing her aching heart, thanked both gentlemen and turned her attention to the book.

  “Did you find the book I suggested?”

  This time Elizabeth’s eyes shot up involuntarily to Darcy, who had now turned to her, and she felt the revealing warmth of a blush pass over her face. “I… uh… yes, I did, thank you.” She tentatively looked away as she detected warmth and mirth in his.

  “Had you read it before?”

  Her pulse quickened and she felt her mouth go dry at his words. She steeled herself to meet his gaze again, and offered a quick reply, “Yes, sir, but it has been several years, so I do not mind reading it again.”

  He seemed content with her answer and turned his attention back to the game. As she opened the book to the first chapter, she tried to concentrate on the words before her, but she could not. The conversation around the table then turned to Pemberley’s library, and Caroline gushed words of praise.

  Elizabeth listened with amusement to the conversation while feigning an interest in her book. She wished that she could say just how much she had enjoyed Pemberley’s library and how grand it was, but she could not. When the conversation turned to Miss Darcy, Elizabeth found herself looking up.

  Miss Bingley seemed to have intimate knowledge of Pemberley and Miss Darcy. Regrettably, Elizabeth experienced pangs of jealousy that shot right through her. She braced herself as Miss Bingley talked about this young girl as though they were the closest of acquaintances, and although Elizabeth had spent not an hour with the young girl herself, she had a very difficult time believing Miss Darcy would feel as close to Miss Bingley as the woman thought.

  “Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” asked Miss Bingley. “Will she be as tall as I am?”

  “I think she will,” Darcy spoke softly as he looked at his cards. “She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.” When he said her name, he looked up from his cards and lifted his eyebrow, before turning his attention back to his hand.

  As Elizabeth looked down at her book, still held open at the first page of the first chapter, she tried to calm her violently beating heart. If she became so unsettled when he simply mentioned her name, how was she to survive in this household with him?

  The conversation now turned to Miss Darcy’s accomplishments, and Bingley graciously commented about the virtues of women in all their accomplishments. Elizabeth surreptitiously listened as Caroline and Mr. Darcy added their opinions of what made up an accomplished woman. Caroline was resolute that one could not be really esteemed accomplished unless one had a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. When she added to that the possession of a certain something in her air and manner of walking, tone of voice, her address and expressions, Elizabeth stifled a huff.

  “Yes, all these may be important,” added Darcy, “but to all this she must yet add something more substantial: in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading and the desire to learn more about the world by taking every opportunity to travel.”

  Elizabeth was rendered motionless by his words, wondering again of his intent. When she came to her senses and glanced up, she found Darcy’s gaze intently focused on her.

  Miss Bingley was not unaware of the import of his words or the direction of his gaze. “Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “How right you are. But truly, only a woman in the highest circles of society would have the opportunities to avail herself of all those things you speak of.” She slyly looked over to Elizabeth. “For example, one would hardly find a woman in this neighbourhood who would satisfy your description of an accomplished woman.”

  Caroline’s words stirred Elizabeth from her silent reverie and her eyes widened as she understood quite clearly the insinuation of the remark.

  “Why… I would have to object, Miss Bingley!” Elizabeth protested.

  Darcy looked to Elizabeth, recognizing the look of anger and insult written across her face, coupled with a very determined look of wishing to speak her mind. She continued, “We may not have all the advantages one has in town, but we certainly have opportunities that we may take advantage of to improve ourselves.”

  “Perhaps it would not be the norm,” Darcy interjected, “but I do believe one could easily find an unblemished pearl—or two—in a country neighbourhood such as this, if one knew where to look and what exactly he was looking for.”

  Elizabeth’s anger was somewhat appeased by Darcy’s words. He had, at least, stood up for her, and for that she was grateful. If he had remained silent, she could only suppose he agreed with Miss Bingley, and she did not think she could bear that.

  Finally, not making any progress in her book, she stood up and excused herself, saying she wished to check in on Jane and then retire for the evening.

  When Elizabeth walked into the room, Jane awakened. Elizabeth found her to be even more feverish, and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher in the room. Elizabeth secured a blanket for herself, choosing not to sleep in her room, which was next to Jane’s, but to sleep next to her sister in the chair.

  When Jane finally settled down again, Elizabeth sat at the mirror and let down her hair, brushing it vigorously in the light of one small candle. She decided to sleep in her dress, and would change into another come morning.

  Elizabeth slept little, hoping to keep Jane’s body temperature down and encouraging her to drink as much fluid as possible. Jane fell asleep again, the house was very still, and Elizabeth was certain everyone had retired for the night. She soon found herself in need of refilling the pitcher with water.

  She picked up the pitcher and quietly went to the door, opening it slowly and closing it behind her. She walked down the hall, and soon heard the sound of footsteps coming up the staircase and the flickering of a candle could be seen.

  She came to a stop when she found herself face to face with Darcy.

  “Good evening, Elizabeth,” he whispered
softly. “How is your sister tonight?”

  “She is quite feverish. I have used up all the water. I was just on my way down to refill the pitcher.”

  “Let me do that for you.” He took the final two steps up to reach her at the top of the stairs.

  “No, there is no need for you…” She stopped, as did her heart, when she felt his free hand come around hers on the pitcher.

  “Please, Elizabeth. I know exactly where to go to refill it.”

  Looking at him through the flickering candlelight, and having the warmth of his hand securely around hers, she felt a tremor pass through her.

  Darcy could not take his eyes off her, not having had the pleasure for several months of beholding her beauty in candlelit darkness. She was too close for him not to feel the gentle stirrings of admiration build within him, and he thought back to their kiss that last night on the ship, and how much he wanted to take her in his arms again at that very moment.

  Her tiny hand felt so right held in his, but he forced himself to let go and reach up above hers and grasp the handle of the pitcher. “Go back to your sister, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “I shall fill this up and bring it back to you shortly.”

  Darcy took it from her hands and turned to head back downstairs, leaving Elizabeth quite unmoved from where she had stood. If only he would treat me with indifference, it would make it so much easier for me! She slowly turned and walked back down the darkened hallway to Jane’s room. He is too kind to me. She let out a soft sigh.

  Elizabeth sat patiently in the room, waiting for him to return. At length there was a light knock on the door. She opened it, and Darcy walked in, carrying the pitcher of water over to the small table.

  “If there is anything else you need, just let me know. I am across the hall, three doors down.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said softly, her eyelashes covering her eyes as she looked toward the floor.