Pride and Precipice

by Lelia M Silver

  Darcy looked like he would dearly have liked to change the subject and remained mute. Lizzy let the silence between them stretch, hoping it would make him uncomfortable. At length, he said, “What type of books do you like to read?”

  Lizzy looked up at him in surprise. “I can’t talk about books while I’m dancing. My head is always full of something else.”

  “The present always occupies you at such moments?” asked Darcy, with a doubtful look.

  “Yes, always,” she said, without really thinking about what she was saying. Her thoughts had wandered from the subject, as was evidenced by what she said next. “I remember you saying once that you hardly ever forgive and your temper is resentful. You are very careful, I hope, as to its being created.”

  “I am,” he said firmly.

  “And you never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

  He frowned at her insistent tone. “I hope not.”

  “It’s particularly important for those who are adamant about never changing their opinions to be sure they are judging properly to begin with.”

  “Can I ask what you hope to gain by this line of questioning?” he demanded irritably.

  “I am just trying to determine your character.”

  “Have you succeeded?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. I hear so many different accounts of you that I don’t know what to believe.”

  He responded gravely, “I can believe you would have heard very different reports of my character. I wish you wouldn’t try to figure me out at the present moment. I don’t think it would reflect well on either of us.”

  “But if I don’t figure it out now, I may never have another opportunity.”

  “I wouldn’t want to suspend any pleasure of yours,” he told her coldly. The dance came to an end and they separated, both dissatisfied with the experience, although not to equal degrees.

  Darcy held Elizabeth with a suitably high regard that his irritation with her was soon forgotten in exchange for a different, more worthy target of his anger. He could never stay mad at her long, not when his heart was filled with such warmth towards her. He could easily fall in love with her, he thought, if he allowed himself to. Fortunately, he had a wealth of self-control, and he did not fear too much for himself.

  It was not long after they had left each other to their own devices that Caroline sought out Elizabeth. “So Eliza, I hear you were quite taken with that George Wickham we met at the café the other day. Your sister has been talking to me about him and asking me a thousand questions. I think the young man forgot to tell you he was nothing more than the son of the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. I would recommend to you, as a friend, to take his assertions with a grain of salt. I know he implied Darcy has used him ill, but I know that to be perfectly false. I do not know all the particulars, but I know Darcy has always treated him with perfect kindness. On the contrary, it was Wickham who treated him infamously and Darcy was not to blame for whatever came between them. I do know he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned and was very glad to hear he would not be here tonight, although he did not prevent him from being invited. I am sorry to have to inform you of your favorite’s guilt, but really, considering his roots, you could not expect much better.”

  “His background and his guilt appear to be the same in your mind,” Lizzy said stiffly, Caroline’s high and mighty attitude irking her. “I haven’t heard you accuse him of anything other than being the son of another man’s steward, and he informed me of that himself.”

  “Excuse me,” said Caroline with a smile that slid toward a sneer. “My interference was kindly meant, but if you choose to ignore it, that is your prerogative.” She stalked away without another word or a backward glance, and Lizzy could only bid her good riddance.

  She sought out Jane, who had taken a brief break from dancing with Charles to stop in the ladies’ room and freshen up. Lizzy checked under the stalls to be sure they were alone, and then pulled out her own lipstick for the pretense of reapplying her makeup.

  She couldn’t help but smile at the happy glow that was diffusing from her sister’s face. She said, “I want to know if you’ve learned anything about Wickham from Charles, but from the look of your face, I’d say you’ve been too busy dancing with him to think of anything else. I can’t say that I blame you. You look positively radiant, and that does more for my mood than anything else would.”

  “I haven’t forgotten about him,” Jane reassured her. “But I don’t really have anything to tell you, either. Charles doesn’t know much about his history, and nothing at all about what happened between him and Darcy. He will, however, vouch for his friend’s honesty and honor, and is quite convinced that Wickham deserves far more reprobation from Darcy than what he has received. I am sorry to say that, according to Charles, Wickham is a very imprudent young man.”

  “Did Charles know Wickham himself?”

  “No. He had never met him before the other morning in Meryton.”

  “So he only knows what he has heard from Darcy. Did he mention anything about the scholarship Wickham was to receive?”

  “He didn’t quite remember the circumstances, but he did say he believed it was left to him conditionally only.”

  “I know Charles is sincere, but you will have to excuse me for not being convinced by his assurances, since he has only had one source for his information. I think I will choose to think of both men as I did before.”

  She changed the subject to one that was more gratifying to each, and one on which they could have no difference of sentiment. Lizzy listened with delight to the happy, though modest, hopes which Jane had of Bingley’s regard, and said everything she could to encourage her sister’s affection.

  They were soon interrupted by some other young ladies come to check their makeup, so they debunked outside, where Charles soon found them. Lizzy watched her sister go off to dance with him with a smile and went off to find her good friend Charlotte, who was around here somewhere.

  Charlotte had seen her dancing with Darcy, and being privy to Lizzy’s feelings about the man, was curious to find out how it had gone. Lizzy barely had time to respond before William Collins came up to them, informing her enthusiastically that he had just made an important discovery.

  Lizzy’s heart dropped to her feet. Whatever he was talking about, it could not be good. She was afraid of what the next words out of his mouth would mean for her.

  “I have found out, by a singular accident, that Lady de Bourgh’s own nephew is in this very room! How wonderful! Who would have thought that I would meet Fitzwilliam Darcy in a ballroom in the middle of Hertfordshire?”

  Lizzy found his interest in Darcy unfathomable and a little odd. But at least he had not asked her to dance yet. She could still be thankful for that. Still, she was worried. “You don’t mean to go up and talk to him, do you?” She didn’t think she could handle any more embarrassment when it came to Darcy. Her mother and sisters did a fine enough job of that.

  “Of course I am!” William said eagerly, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I will have to apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I will be sure to assure him that her ladyship was quite well the last time I saw her. I know he will be pleased to hear about her good health.”

  Lizzy really tried to dissuade him from doing so, she really did, but her best efforts were in vain.

  He just smiled at her condescendingly and patted her arm, making her grit her teeth. “My dear Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of your excellent judgment in all matters within the scope of your understanding.” It went unsaid that he thought this was not within the scope of her understanding. “You will have to allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience. I consider myself more fitted by education and study to decide what is right on this occasion than a young lady such as yourself.”

  With that, he took himself off, leaving Lizzy to watch him with a horrified premonition that this was not going to be good, mixed with annoyance a
t his condescending attitude. She did not like to be treated with so little respect after working hard most of her life to earn the right to it.

  He attacked Darcy- for it could be considered nothing less- who received his addresses with astonishment. He eyed William Collins with unrestrained wonder, and when he was finally allowed to speak, replied with as much civility as he could muster. This did not discourage William from continuing, and Darcy’s contempt only grew the longer his speech lingered. At the end of his monologue, Darcy stared at him, momentarily speechless, and then nodded mutely and walked away.

  William returned to Lizzy and Charlotte, well pleased with his excursion. “I think Darcy was impressed with me and the attention. He even paid me the compliment of saying that he was confident in his aunt’s discernment and that she would never bestow her favor unworthily! It was a very kind thought. On the whole, I have to say, I am quite impressed with him.”

  Lizzy couldn’t do anything but shake her head, speechless, and share a speaking glance with Charlotte. Her friend gave her a sympathetic look and convinced William to take a trip with her to the buffet table, thus leaving a grateful Lizzy to her own devices. Lizzy watched them go with some relief, and then turned her reflections to happier subjects.

  She focused her attention almost entirely on Jane and Charles. She saw her sister happily settled with Charles, perhaps even residing for some time in one of the apartments they had created in the other wing of the house. If she could see her sister in wedded bliss with the love of her life, she thought she might even be able to tolerate his sister, Caroline, despite their earlier spat.

  A glance around the room told her that her mother’s hopes for Jane had taken a similar bent. Although she questioned her sanity while she was doing it, Lizzy skirted the edge of the ballroom to draw near to where her mother was conversing with Lady Lucas.

  She was greatly vexed when she realized her mother was speaking freely, openly, and of nothing else than her expectation that Jane would soon be married to Charles. Mrs. Bennet never seemed to tire of the subject, and kept enumerating the advantages of such a match to anyone she could corner for any amount of time.

  She spoke enthusiastically about his being such a charming young man, about his being so rich, and how promising it was for her younger daughters that Jane was marrying such an influential man. Her younger daughters would have the chance to meet other rich men through Jane’s influence.

  She told Lady Lucas, with great smugness, that she hoped that lady might be equally fortunate, though she evidently believed it to be impossible, and was rather triumphant about that fact.

  Lizzy tried to convince her mother to speak in a less audible whisper, but it did no good. To her utmost vexation, she realized that Darcy stood only a short distance away from them, and must have overheard almost the entire conversation.

  She watched his face with increasing anxiety. At first she perceived only annoyance, but gradually his look hardened, until she could only wonder at what he was thinking. Knowing her efforts were in vain, Lizzy took herself off to find a quiet corner of the room in which to recoup her emotions, only to overhear her sister Mary waxing long and poetic to Caroline Bingley about her hopeful future as an artist. Lizzy flinched as Mary took out a pen and began to sketch a caricature of Caroline directly on the tablecloth. She moved to intercede before her sister could destroy any more costly draperies.

  Catching her father’s eye across the room, she jerked her head toward her sister and accepted his nod with relief. He moved to intercept in her stead, but instead of gently discouraging his daughter, he merely dragged her off by the arm with a loud, “That is enough, Mary,” that caused half the room to turn around and watch them go.

  Lizzy could only be glad her sister didn’t burst into immediate tears at his rough handling and draw even more attention to herself.

  Lydia and Kitty now seemed to find it incumbent upon themselves to make a scene, and as a consequence of drinking too much champagne and eating too little food, began laughing gaily at some comment by Denny and stood up to drag him on to the dance floor. The only problem with that was that by this time their balance was precarious, and in their enthusiasm they overcompensated and skidded into the buffet table, sending a chocolate fountain tumbling on to the floor and its contents spraying against the wall behind it.

  Lizzy didn’t think her family could have done a better job of embarrassing themselves if they had planned it out in advance. She was glad that Charles didn’t seem to notice the humiliating act that played out before them, but she knew beyond a doubt that neither Caroline nor Darcy had missed a moment of the folly.

  She couldn’t decide which was worse, Caroline’s obvious contempt for her family, or Darcy’s stoic silence. The overall effect of the night was too much for her. When she saw William Collins headed in her direction, no doubt to claim the dance she owed him, she slipped away from the ballroom to find solace in another part of the house.

  Having spent so much time at Netherfield Park, she was well acquainted with the maze of hallways and stairs, and took herself off to the one room in the house where she knew she would find comfort and where she would be least likely to be disturbed.

  The library had always been her haven, and it did not disappoint now. She had made sure this room maintained all of its warmth and charm throughout the restoration process, and even though there was no fire in the fireplace to lend to the ambience, she immediately felt a release at being among its confines.

  She wanted to hide, to squirrel herself away from any prying eyes that might try to invade her privacy. Her eyes immediately fell upon the massive desk set near the library stacks. Feeling like a child playing at hide and go seek, Lizzy crawled into the cubbyhole that would house a man’s legs, and let go of the tears that had threatened since she had exited the ballroom in shame.

  She felt an utter fool, and for once, the full weight of her foolhardy relations pressed upon her shoulders. She normally dealt with her silly mother and sisters with equanimity and laughter, but tonight…tonight she could only be humiliated. This project had been her crowning glory, the pinnacle of her achievements, and yet it felt as if it was nothing against the backdrop of her family and their silliness. Who would take her seriously after seeing the spectacle they had made of themselves?

  The rasp of the library door against the floor stopped her hand in the middle of wiping the tears from her face. She pulled her feet back into the small space, hoping whoever it was hadn’t noticed her, and held her breath as footsteps came farther into the room.

  They didn’t stop until they came to rest directly in front of her. Her gaze traveled up, up, up the black trousers and suit jacket until they came to rest on the one face she most did not want to see right then.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy, in the flesh.

  It broke Darcy’s heart to find Lizzy huddled under the library desk crying her eyes out, but this time her tears didn’t paralyze him. Without a word, he crouched down to her level and scooted in beside her.

  She watched him in disbelief, and he couldn’t blame her. He had tried to stay away from her, especially after her impertinent questions earlier in the evening, but it was an impossible task. When he had noticed her slipping away a few minutes earlier, he had not been able to stop himself from following her.

  He had felt her hurt and humiliation from across the room as if he had been experiencing it himself. It was impossible for him not to try to fix it.

  He loved her. How could he not try? He could do nothing less.

  Wordlessly, he turned to Lizzy and tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. Instead, she turned her face into his shirt and wept, sobs wracking her body with an intensity that nearly brought him to tears himself.

  This was his Lizzy weeping. This was his Lizzy who fisted her hands into his shirt and hung on as if her life depended on it.

  He had known from their
earlier conversations that she had her doubts about his character, but some part of her, no matter how small, trusted him, or she wouldn’t be turning to him for comfort. It gave him hope.

  He had tried to resist falling in love with her, but he knew now that it was futile. Lizzy Bennet had stolen his heart and he wasn’t getting it back anytime soon. He had the sinking sensation that it was gone forever. He was lost to her. So instead of trying to keep his distance from her, he began to turn his mind to a new plan, one that would hopefully bring them both happiness.

  But first, the truth had to come out. As much as he didn’t want to tell it, he knew he had to be honest with her about his history with Wickham.

  Darcy waited for her sobs to quiet, relishing the feel of her in his arms and the rightness of holding her. If he had needed any proof that he and Lizzy belonged together, he had it now.

  For a long time, even after Lizzy’s tears had dried up, neither one of them could bring themselves to move. Darcy had no desire to let go of her, and Lizzy was awash in confusion as to how she had gotten herself into this position in the first place. She was even more confused because some small part of her didn’t care that it was Darcy holding her in his arms and that it was Darcy’s hand that was stroking her back comfortingly.

  She should have been mad at him. She should have been berating him for his injustice to George Wickham. But she wasn’t. In his arms, she felt a peace wash over her that had been missing from her life for as long as she could remember. She felt safe, secure, at home. And she really didn’t know what to think of that.

  Finally, Darcy cleared his throat and set her a little away from him. Lizzy immediately missed the weight of his arm around her shoulders and the hard plane of his chest against her cheek, but she couldn’t very well complain.

  He looked at her with serious eyes. “I think we need to talk.”

  She felt heat rising in her cheeks and averted her gaze. “Okay.”

  With a tender smile, he turned her chin with a finger so she would meet his eyes. “You deserve the truth, Lizzy. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, and I aim to give it to you, if you can be patient with me.”