A Sense of Obligation

by Rose Fairbanks

  “Everyone in the area was very welcoming and kind. Caroline wishes to remain in London for Christmas but I had thought it would be quite nice to celebrate at my own estate, perhaps invite my closest family and friends.” Bingley let out another sigh.

  Darcy was growing alarmed. He had no desire to return to the area. “Are you certain you wish to host such a large party again so soon? You hosted a ball just over a week ago. You would not want to overexert yourself or Miss Bingley.”

  Bingley’s brow furrowed and then his face lit up in amusement. “I am certain Caroline would perform any task to impress the Master of Pemberley.”

  Darcy groaned and walked to the sideboard to refresh his port. “Did you not already accept the invitation to Lady Tennyson’s ball?”

  “Yes. Caroline is desperate for me to meet Lady Tennyson’s niece, Miss Howe, again.”

  “She is quite lovely and has a good portion.”

  “Her hair is too dark.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I believe you admired her hair and more in August.”

  “And her eyes are too small unlike...”

  Bingley did not need to continue, and Darcy took a large sip. Blast the Bennet sisters and their eyes! The eldest had very large and perfectly blue eyes. Elizabeth had the most expressive and intelligent eyes Darcy had ever seen, a beautiful shade of brown that could turn nearly emerald green as well. Even the youngest daughters and the mother had a special twinkle in their eye. Yes! That was an important recollection—the younger sisters and the mother!

  “Bingley, I know you are quite attracted to Miss Bennet, but you did promise to use this time in Town to consider other ladies and all the consequences.” Darcy had privately vowed to do the same.

  “Yes, I know. But what is consequence to affection?”

  Darcy took another gulp of his drink and then decided to refill his glass and offer more to Bingley.

  “The match would be lacking in all important ways.”

  “It is just like you to think money and connections are all that matter.” Bingley appeared to be teasing, but Darcy still felt a bit offended.

  “I do not mean only money and connections. You desire affection, perhaps even love, but you will not gain that with Miss Bennet.”

  Bingley looked sharply at Darcy. “What do you mean?”

  “Her heart is not easily touched.”

  “She enjoyed my attentions!”

  “She has a very easy way with everyone, quite a serene countenance. Do you truly believe she treated you differently than others?”

  “I cannot believe her to wilfully deceive me.”

  “Did she declare sentiments?” Darcy was aghast at the idea. He had thought at least Miss Bennet and Elizabeth capable of proper behaviour.

  “No, but surely she could see my intentions, and she made no move to discourage me.”

  “You are very amiable. She most likely thought you were engaging in an idle flirtation while visiting the area.”

  “You do not believe she has expectations of me?”

  “Have any of the others?”

  Bingley looked sheepishly at him. “I...no, their feelings were never attached, as you well know after this summer.”

  “And did Miss Bennet truly seem different than the other ladies?”

  Bingley looked from the glass in his hands to Darcy’s face and back to his glass. “I think you had better pour me another glass.”

  *****

  6 pm

  “She never loved me. None of them have,” Bingley bemoaned and sloshed the wine in his glass.

  “You are quite young and so amiable you cannot see those who would scheme against you.”

  “I ought to be more like you. Or how you used to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Since we have returned from Hertfordshire you have danced nearly every dance at every soiree, accepted every dinner invitation, and talked with many ladies at each outing. Everyone is full of gossip that you mean to finally take a wife!”

  Darcy grimaced. The last thing he needed now was London’s gossips after him. His friend laughed at his scowl.

  “Well, so it was until three nights ago. Then, you only danced half the evening and wanted to leave early, and have refused to go anywhere since. What has happened?”

  Darcy sighed. “Nothing has happened. I have agreed to go to the next ball with you.” He motioned toward the billiards table, “Please, let us enjoy our game. More port?”

  *****

  7 pm

  “I’m a catch aren’t I, Darcy?” Bingley asked bleary-eyed.

  “Of course,” Darcy replied, quite a bit more in command of his faculties.

  “Not like you, though.”

  “What?”

  “Pemberley! You’ve got Pemberley!”

  “Yes...too many want me for my estate.”

  “And your uncle, an earl!”

  “You are a fine catch, Bingley.”

  He grunted. “And I’ll prove it at Lady Tenley...Tenson...”

  “Tennyson.”

  “Lady Tennyson’s ball. I’ll be irresistible.”

  “Certainly.”

  “And you too. Maybe Lady Elizabeth Harkin for you?”

  Darcy scowled at the name. No Elizabeths. And she was blonde. “No.”

  “Your cousin Miss de Bourgh then?”

  Darcy choked on his port. “Good G-d, no!”

  “What do you want then? More money? Ties to the royal family?” Bingley laughed and then snorted, causing him to laugh all the more. “I know, love!”

  Without thought, Darcy whispered quietly to himself, “No. I will never find love again.” He peered at his glass with distrust. Where had this sudden understanding come from?

  Bingley had not heard Darcy speak over his own laughter. “What did you say?”

  “I will never marry for love.”

  “Right. Too silly for you. We must be dignified. We must not laugh.” Bingley tried to affect Darcy’s scowl. “No more love for me! No more angels!”

  Sighing, Bingley laid his glass aside. “I’m off to bed while I can walk up the stairs.”

  “Are you certain? It is still very early.”

  “Yes, but I have had little rest in over a week.”

  Darcy only grunted as his friend exited. Willing the voice in his head taunting him with declarations of love for Elizabeth Bennet to silence, he drank another glass of port before an idea of sheer genius struck him. Ten nights with little sleep plagued his ability to think clearly. Then, in a flash of inspiration, THE plan came to him. Writing a letter of sorts to Elizabeth, confessing his affections would clear them from his mind. He would even keep the letter to remind himself of all the reasons he could never marry Elizabeth Bennet.

  *****

  The following morning, as he finally comprehended where this ultimate, brilliant plan had led, Darcy ruminated on all the plans that had inexorably brought him to this impasse. Darcy had always firmly believed in planning, it was part of his very essence. He knew how to make arrangements and carry them through with authority.

  He planned to merely advise his friend, Bingley, on his leased estate in Hertfordshire and recover from his troubles of the summer. He soon realized his budding attraction for an impertinent country miss and so he planned to keep his distance. But when he was thrust into her company against his will, he sought to find fault with her. And when he found her entirely charming and bewitching, he schemed to leave the country forthwith.

  Upon noticing Bingley’s attachment to the very lady’s sister, and not perceiving the affection reciprocated, he planned to extricate his friend. He even realized the plot held the added benefit of never again needing to face Elizabeth’s fine, captivating eyes. Bingley would give up the lease and never marry a Bennet. Darcy need never visit Hertfordshire again, need never come into Elizabeth’s company on a visit to his friend’s estate, nor see her in Town as Bingley’s new sister. Yes, it was a succession of very well-considered, if incre
asingly desperate, stratagems.

  Darcy shook his head again. He should have realized it could come to this when things went decidedly against his plans. He did not plan to admire the young lady whose beauty he had early withstood, whose manners were not fashionable, and who had connections in trade and the most vulgar family in the kingdom. He most certainly did not plan to fall in love with her. He should not have been surprised that, after leaving Hertfordshire, he could not cast out Elizabeth’s teasing words and lovely face from his mind. He never planned to think of her day and night with increasing levels of distraction—even with a distance of twenty miles and the passage of ten days between them.

  Before he met Elizabeth, Darcy could not remember the last time he was able to admire a lady as more than a dance or dinner partner. At this point, he could scarcely recall another lady’s name. He should have known better than to assume his plans regarding Elizabeth Bennet could ever succeed; Elizabeth’s appeal defied logic!

  Yesterday due to the tension of feigning disinterest for several hours, and a bit more drink than usual combined with a severe lack of sleep, he was impressed with the prudence of his next scheme—writing Elizabeth a letter declaring both his love for her and all the reasons why it was impossible to ask for her hand would surely banish her from his thoughts.

  Upon completion, instead of burning it, he planned to keep it to remind himself of his resolve. He immediately left the library and ignored the unease he felt over his decision. He would keep to his resolve. He had hoped writing the letter would give him instant peace, but he was confident reading the words again on the morrow would be beneficial. Although he retired to his chambers, sleep did not come easily. It was not until waking that morning that he realized he had a nagging fear that he sealed the unblemished final draft and addressed it out of habit. And now it was missing from his desk, clearly having been sent with last night’s mail.

  Now came the culmination of all his designs. There was nothing to be done for but write an express to Mr. Bennet, travel to Hertfordshire and initiate plans to marry Elizabeth Bennet. Her reputation would be damaged by his letter, and he was nothing if not honourable.

  Darcy leant forward, rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his palms. He took a deep breath in, then slowly exhaled and brought his head up. He could not help the broad smile from appearing on his face. He was to marry Elizabeth Bennet!

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you goes to Jim, Candice, Linda, Rosie and Sarah for their invaluable help with early drafts. Thank you to my irreplaceable editor, Anna Horner, and to Betty Madden and Zoe Burton for proofreading. To my author friends Elizabeth, Leenie, Rosie, Sarah and Zoe that always were willing to hold my hand, nothing can take your place in my heart.

  Thank you to the countless other people of the JAFF community who have inspired and encouraged me.

  Last but not least I could never have written, let alone published, without the love and support of my beloved husband and babies!

  About the Author

  Rose Fairbanks fell in love with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy thirteen years ago. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, she also met her real life Mr. Darcy thirteen years ago. They had their series of missteps, just like Elizabeth and Darcy, but are now teaching the admiring multitude what happiness in marriage really looks like and have been blessed with two children, a four year old son and a one year old daughter.

  Previously rereading her favorite Austen novels several times a year, Rose discovered Jane Austen Fan Fiction due to pregnancy-induced insomnia. Several months later she began writing. A Sense of Obligation is Rose’s fifth published work.

  Rose has a degree in history and hopes to one day finish her MA in Modern Europe and will focus on the Regency Era in Great Britain. For now, she gets to satiate her love of research, Pride and Prejudice, reading and writing....and the only thing she has to sacrifice is sleep! She proudly admits to her Darcy obsession, addictions to reading, chocolate and sweet tea, is always in the mood for a good debate and dearly loves to laugh.

  You can connect with Rose on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog: http://rosefairbanks.com

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