Darcy tapped his fingers against the edge of the cup. What should he say?
Elizabeth bit her lip, and suddenly she sat up and looked directly at him with something wild in her dark eyes. “Mama advised me so recently. She did say such matters only matter if you have money.”
Despite Lydia’s presence, he felt as though Elizabeth was telling him something important. His heart suddenly beating faster Darcy said with his stomach clenched, “And do you plan to follow your mother’s sage advice?”
He then looked away from Elizabeth. He’d tried to keep his voice casual and teasing, but didn’t think he had.
Lydia laughed. “Lizzy never listens to Mama, even when she is right. What about you, Mr. Darcy, have you always been respectable? It would be a terrible shame if you have. A man as good looking as you are.”
Elizabeth was now looking at him again, her face very red, but full of curiosity also.
“I… It is not quite respectable to be respectable in my circles. You have heard of how depraved high society is, I am sure.”
Elizabeth kicked him under the table. “Mr. Darcy, that was no answer. If you insist I should not care about being respectable, you’ll satisfy my curiosity.”
He looked back at her. Her face was red, but she leaned forward eagerly biting her lip. What had gotten into Elizabeth? There was something in her eyes. Darcy felt a rush of lust.
“Do tell me.”
Darcy looked down. He felt uncomfortable. “I have…not been respectable.” He looked at Elizabeth again. Something of the glee that was present in her a moment earlier was gone.
She mouthed, “Oh.”
“I think there was nothing wrong in the doing.”
“No?”
“Truly I do not. It, is not a wrong thing. I…”
Lydia exclaimed, “La, do not become missish of a sudden, Lizzy. Of course your dear Mr. Darcy has had his way with women. His cousins didn’t help him practice looking charming so that he could just smile at us.”
“Of course not.” Elizabeth’s voice was flat.
Darcy worried. She’d seemed so promising a minute earlier. Maybe he should have lied? But that would have been absurd, and he would not lie to Elizabeth. What was she thinking? He couldn’t try to explain himself or ask Elizabeth what really bothered her. Maybe it simply was that she liked him very much and disliked the thought other women had been with him.
It was not fair but he enjoyed the thought of being Elizabeth’s first and, perhaps, only lover.
Lydia giggled. “Lizzy is quite prudish. Lizzy, you should go off with a man.” She winked at Darcy. “It will make you so much happier.”
“Do not say such things about me! I am not so uncontrolled as to lose my head. I am still a gentlewoman, just because I…I’ll not throw all that I’ve been taught away. I’m not like you.”
Elizabeth blanched and looked apologetically at Lydia.
Darcy felt a kick in his stomach. She must be saying that to him as well. Surely Elizabeth must realize what he hoped.
Lydia shrugged. “I know you think the worst of me, but I am happily married and you are not. I shall have a child soon, and I don’t live with Mr. Phillips anymore.”
Elizabeth exclaimed, “No! I do not think so ill of you.”
Lydia ignored her and smiled at Darcy. “Mr. Darcy, what do you think of Uncle Phillips and my Mama? I do not understand how Lizzy stands them. It cannot last forever, and then she will need to escape like I did. Lizzy, you’d best find a good man to care for you while you are still young and pretty.”
Elizabeth said, “Lydie, it isn’t my place to judge you. Such matters are between you and providence. I did not mean to say it that way. I just wish to make my own choices.”
“Lizzy does not like to talk about how much she dislikes Mama and Mr. Phillips, but you can tell me what you really think. I do not care.”
“Lydia, please.” Elizabeth’s voice was pleading.
Lydia looked at her. “What I did was quite contrary to what the rich people claim girls should do. I do not care. Besides, they hate me more for marrying a blacksmith than for, what is the term that writer you adore used? The one in the play with the black man?” Lydia giggled. “The beast with two backs. I made the beast with two backs without some parson telling me I could, and I am glad I did. I know you don’t hate me for it, and you can be as prudish as you wish otherwise. It is your mistake.”
“It isn’t a joke. She should be angry at you.” Darcy was surprised by how sharply he spoke. “You hurt your sisters by marrying so low. It isn’t only your own happiness that matters.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You made it far harder for them to marry.”
“No. I could introduce Lizzy to one of Tom’s friends. Lizzy, I really can get you a husband, if you aren’t obsessed with being so respectable.”
“Mrs. Brown, gentlewomen are supposed to marry gentlemen. Substantial persons will not marry the sister-in-law of a blacksmith. Elizabeth told me a suitor of Jane’s left when news of your marriage arrived.”
“He clearly didn’t love Jane very much. Lord, even if she is absurdly old, Jane is better off without such a person. If the rich fops don’t want to marry my sisters because of Tom, such men are useless anyways.”
“People had best marry within their own sphere.”
“Not if you are marrying quality. They are no fun. I wouldn’t marry quality no matter what.”
“It isn’t your right to make that choice for your sisters.”
Lydia shot Darcy a shrewd look. “What, would you have married Lizzy if only she didn’t have a blacksmith as a brother? Is that why you are angry?”
“No. My grandfather was an earl.” As he spoke Darcy’s attention was pulled by the scraping sound of Elizabeth pushing her chair further away from him. Her face was white. “My name goes back centuries. I shall marry into an entirely higher sphere, into my own sphere.”
“La. You won’t have much fun. You like Lizzy far more than whatever rich Miss you will marry.”
Elizabeth said, “Enough. Lydia, nothing more on this topic. Nothing more. Forgive my sister, Mr. Darcy, for…for suggesting such things.”
Darcy began to wish he’d not met her with Lydia. Elizabeth could not have hoped he would marry her, but him saying it in such a blunt way must feel like a slap.
Darcy shook his head. “No. Forgive me.”
“Lydia, since it has been said, I know you did not think about us, about how your liaison would affect us. You should have, but…in the matter of marriage a person should follow their own counsel. It is not a matter of what your family wishes. And if a man will not marry Jane over such a cause, we are best off without him.”
The table fell silent. Darcy sipped at the tea, and then Miss Lydia refilled his cup. He thought it tasted strong and flavorful. He knew there were people who were convinced it was very important to drink only the most expensive tea, but Darcy could not consistently tell the difference.
What was Elizabeth thinking? Darcy was committed to never making a fool of himself over a woman, but Bingley wasn’t. His friend had told him that he wouldn’t mind at all marrying a girl with no dowry. But Darcy knew he wouldn’t marry a blacksmith’s sister.
“Mr. Darcy,” Lydia spoke again, “I really do wish to hear what you think of my family. Jane of course is excessively pretty, everyone thinks that. But what about Mama and my Aunt and Uncle.”
“They do not like you.”
“Hahahaha. Good. I do not like Mr. Phillips at all. And everyone knows Mama is a fool. She spent six thousand pounds in just a few years. I cannot even imagine spending so much money. Even if you eat meat every day and keep two domestics, how is it possible?”
Darcy said, “You can hardly expect an outsider to insult your family.” But then the anger that had been in him since the card party where Mr. Phillips attacked Elizabeth again and again burst out. “I despise him. Mr. Phillips and Mrs. Bennet do not treat your sister a
s she deserves. They do not. Elizabeth, you deserve better. You should find any way to get away, even if it is not respectable. Not marrying a blacksmith but…you must not stay in that house, with that awful man and your mother who blames you for everything which goes amiss. If…if there ever is a way to leave…you must take it.”
Elizabeth exclaimed, “There isn’t! But I am not trapped; I tell you, and I’ve told you, I am not unhappy. I am not. I could never go where Jane could not follow me.”
Lydia said, “You are worth at least three of Jane. I’d never suggest she marry one of my friends. She would never be able to do any work or have any fun. She is too pretty to have fun or do work.”
“Jane is perfect. I shall hear no words against her.”
“La! She is not.”
The front door was rattled open, and the most thickly muscled man Darcy had ever seen stuck his head into the parlor. He was shirtless, and Elizabeth squeaked and hid her face, while Lydia openly ogled her husband. The blacksmith had massive arms that were as thick as many men’s legs and a hairy chest. The skin was red from the heat of the forge, and he had a friendly face.
Seeing them he bowed his head. “Pardon me, sir. Pardon me, Miss Lizzy. Did not expect guests.” He backed away and entered one of the backrooms, presumably to get a shirt.
Lydia grinned widely at him and when the door closed behind her husband, she exclaimed, “See! Isn’t he so handsome? I told you he is brawnier than you, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth’s face was completely red again. Darcy felt a twinge of jealousy, because she’d been looking at the shirtless muscled back. Darcy had a lean figure, from fencing, horse riding, and occasional bouts of pugilism. But he’d never felt small and inadequate in this way. He was a gentleman, but that did not change that he would never be so massively built.
After a minute the blacksmith reentered the room. He wore a linen shirt and the sort of coat richer workers tended to own for funerals and special occasions, but it bulged uncomfortably around his arms. The coat had been clearly made for someone a little smaller about the chest and shoulders than its present wearer.
Elizabeth stood, though her cheeks were still red and said, “Mr. Darcy, may I introduce you to Tom Brown, Lydia’s husband?”
“Of course.”
Darcy slightly inclined his head and shook Mr. Brown’s hand. “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Brown. You have a fine house, and Miss Elizabeth is a dear friend of mine.”
“No Mister. No Mister. No pretense, I’m just a blacksmith, the best blacksmith around for five miles. Tom, just call me Tom.”
“I believe you are the best, I saw the work you did repairing the broken piece on Bingley’s carriage, very fine work.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you. It is an honor. A great honor for you to be in our house.”
Darcy smiled.
Lydia stood next to her husband and kissed his cheek. “He is nearly a lord. Did you know that? Mr. Darcy’s uncle is a Lord.”
Mr. Brown replied, “I did. It is a very great honor for you to be here.”
“You did!” Lydia exclaimed. “Why did you never tell me?”
Darcy said, “I am glad for your hospitality.”
Lydia flirted flagrantly with her husband, who was too awkward with Darcy present to reply properly. Likely he’d not been planning on conversation when he returned home for an afternoon break from the forge. Mr. Brown uncomfortably pulled at his coat, and tried to stretch without tearing the fabric.
Just a few minutes after Mr. Brown arrived, Darcy left with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth’s brother-in-law was definitely a blacksmith.
They walked out of the village a little way. He now was alone with her. He should try to make a case, make things right with her, apologize for…for not being willing to marry her. Beg her to come with him anyways. Explain that they could hide it from Jane. He had a perfect plan.
The sky was reddish as the sun was setting. There were clouds in the distance; it would likely rain tonight or tomorrow. There was a cold wind that cut through Darcy’s heavy overcoat. Elizabeth shivered.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I must run to return to Meryton quickly.”
“I shall call Netherfield’s carriage for you.”
“No, by no means.” Elizabeth shook a finger in Darcy’s face. “It would hardly look respectable to return in such a way.”
They looked at each other; her smile faded.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth, forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Not that I can think. I thank you for being so kind to Tom and Lydia. So you do see now? She may be thoughtless, and a little selfish, but there isn’t an ounce of cruelty in Lydia, and I love her still.”
“I was wrong to say anything.”
Elizabeth took his hand. “There is nothing to forgive. But it is my place to decide whether I am angry at Lydia, and I am not. Oh, you shall leave so soon. It is in December, I believe?”
“Near the start.”
She looked depressed, her eyebrows drawn together, creating a creased line along her forehead, and her lips turned down into a frown. She squeezed his hand. “I shall miss you. I wish I could… I wish we did not need to part. You’ve slipped. You’ve become less…superficial these past weeks.”
She was still holding his hand. Darcy spoke, “Elizabeth. It...it is not necessary that…” He choked with anxiety. She was so devoted to Jane and her friends. She was so innocent.
When Darcy froze, Elizabeth pulled her hand away and held it against her cheek looking towards Meryton. “I must hurry. My aunt has one of her card parties tonight, and I shall have barely time enough to dress.”
She turned back to Darcy, bit her lip, and in a sudden gesture threw her arms around him and embraced him. Then Elizabeth half ran off, the back of her cape flapping in the wind. Darcy watched her leave but the brief feel of her body pressed against his stayed with him.
Blast. Would he always flinch away at the point of asking her?
Chapter 12
The feel of embracing him, and that moment of denial: No. My grandfather was an earl.
She hadn’t even dreamed he would marry her, but the rejection stung. Yet, he was so upset by what he saw of her hurt. Elizabeth had never cared before, but she now wished she was part of his sphere.
Oh, it was foolish, foolish, foolish.
Damn Lydia for saying that. For making him deny it.
Their whole conversation had been so improper. But she’d so wanted to press herself against him for a moment. She wished she could have stayed forever. Elizabeth fantasized about him holding her hand, like he’d held it before, and saying, “I was wrong, about love, about you, about everything. Nothing matters more than happiness and affection. Marry me.”
It wouldn’t happen, but Elizabeth enjoyed imagining it.
Elizabeth had forced away the hurt and was smiling and cheerful when she reached Netherfield. As she hung her outer garments on the coat rack, Mrs. Phillips and Mama eagerly greeted her.
Mrs. Bennet spoke first: “Lord — he was the most handsome and well-mannered gentleman I’ve ever seen.”
“And how he walked — such elegance.”
“Who are you speaking of?”
“Mr. Wickham. A new officer — a friend of Denny’s, when Denny was in London, he saw his old friend and convinced him to enroll in the militia.”
“From your enthusiasm, I expect he shall be an excellent addition to the neighborhood,” Elizabeth replied with a grin. “Jane, did you see this happy creature as well?”
“I did. He has very good features and an excellent address.”
“Am I to meet him? May I hope he comes to your card party tonight, aunt?”
“Yes! And he agreed with a very pretty set of words indeed, he looks forward to acquaintance with the ladies of the neighborhood.”
“And I, as one of the local ladies, am well disposed to look forward to acquaintance with him.”
A half hour later, Elizabeth stared
at the mirror as she rubbed red tint into her cheeks. My own sphere. I shall marry into my own sphere.
But he didn’t deny that he liked her well enough to marry.
She was glad this Mr. Wickham had arrived. Making out the character of a handsome, charming officer for whom she cared nothing at all would be a fine distraction.
Mr. Wickham arrived early for the party. He entered with Captain Denny, and wore his new red coat. With a small flourish he doffed his bicorne cap to all the ladies already present and tucked it under his arm. The line of his trousers fell perfectly straight, and his buttons were polished to a very impressive shine. The uniform of an officer was already very handsome, but Mr. Wickham’s appearance and address was superior to the other officers. A little like how Mr. Darcy was so much more handsome than every other gentleman.
He was introduced to Elizabeth and offered her a handsome smile. It reminded Elizabeth of how Mr. Darcy smiled when she first met him.
Elizabeth smiled back. “My mother and aunt raved about you, I’d thought they were giving you a false account.”
“And now?”
“All hopes dashed. You are as impressive in person as reported.”
“It does not speak well for my gallantry that I delight in dashing the hopes of ladies in that matter. Your lovely sister spoke highly of you and as I believed her, I am only disappointed that she did not speak highly enough.”
Mr. Wickham delivered his reply with an excellent air. Elizabeth said, “I do sincerely hope you shall enjoy our society.”
“It was the promise of such society that convinced me this must be the regiment for me. Mr. Denny is an old friend, and I knew his promise of good company will be fulfilled.”
“You could not have found a finer neighborhood than Meryton.”
Elizabeth went to the table with the coffee and tea. “Mr. Wickham, how would you like your cup?”
“Sugar, two teaspoons, though that you prepare it shall do more than the sugar to make it sweet.”
“That is a sweet thought.” Elizabeth smiled at Wickham and handed him the cup.
He sipped it. “I can taste the care you placed into it.”
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