Author: Alix James
Category: Other
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Elizabeth nodded in quick understanding. “I am properly forewarned, sir. I do thank you for that.”
“I am glad to hear that you will apply greater caution where one man is concerned,” he said in a halting voice, “but I am more interested to know whether you will bestow your favor on another.” Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her, his brow furrowed in silent hope.
Elizabeth permitted a somewhat broader smile than might have been considered prudent. “That all depends. I should be very put out if this man I favor should not return the sentiment and make me look the fool.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he answered in husky tones, “I would not stand for you to be made the fool.”
When Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived to lead her to the floor, Mr. Darcy was still standing nearby. The way the colonel seemed to examine them as he drew close nearly made her wonder if Mr. Darcy was sending his cousin a silent warning to seek another dance partner. Yet, approach he did, and he spoke cordially to them both for a moment before requesting Elizabeth’s hand.
“And are you occupied this set, Darcy?” the colonel asked. “Or do you mean to skulk about the edges of the room as you usually do?”
“I have no partner, but perhaps Miss Elizabeth might recommend one of her own friends to me,” he answered, without rising to his cousin’s provocation. “Miss Elizabeth?”
She favored him with a warm smile and then scanned the ballroom for someone he might know. “What about Miss King? I believe you have already been introduced to her once, so no formalities are necessary. Poor Mary is not often favored, and I fear she has been neglected for this set. Moreover, she was unfortunate enough to pass the supper set with Lieutenant Wickham, so perhaps a more honest partner for the next dance might not go amiss.”
“If it gives you pleasure, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy replied, “I would ask her for two sets, just to pay her notice.” One last smile, and he turned away, but he tugged on Elizabeth’s heart as he went.
Colonel Fitzwilliam proved both a genial conversationalist and a graceful dance partner. There was almost the quality of an elder brother about him, in the way he jested with her one moment and seemed possessed with all platonic concern the next. It was a lively dance, offering little chance for them to exchange many words, but after some time, she became aware that his seemingly disjointed observations and questions did, in fact, follow a trend.
“Colonel,” she asked at last, “would it be accurate to infer that you are trying to sketch my character?”
He paused a moment for the steps of the dance, but a look of cautious pleasure had come over his face. “Is that not the point of dancing, Miss Elizabeth? Are gentlemen not inclined to discover the inner workings of a lady’s thoughts and personality during these few moments in a ballroom?”
“Perhaps a few gentlemen are inclined thus, but more seek to admire only a woman’s physical appeal or, worse, to inflate their pride by comparing the beauty on their own arm to those claimed by their fellows.”
He laughed heartily. “Whether you know it or not, Miss Elizabeth, you have just placed the last piece of the puzzle for me. Tell me, do you read a great deal?”
She turned about and gave her hand back to him as they walked up the set. “If you mean to mock my taste, you may, but yes. I take great pleasure in a good book.”
“Mock your taste? I do not dare. It was a question of idle curiosity, that was all. A close friend of mine, dearer than a brother, seems to think and act much as you do. Such similarity of mind and temperament is rare, and I fancy might prove the basis of a remarkable and intimate friendship.”
“Indeed? Then I should like to make a friend of this person.”
The colonel turned to face her. “He is already yours, I believe.”
24
It was absolutely necessary the next day that the Bennet ladies should expect to receive their neighbors to discuss all the happenings of the previous night. In preparation for such a call, lists of who danced with whom were reviewed, gown styles were recited, and the intelligence gathered by all the ladies of the house was pooled together into one general impression of the evening.
There was a moment, just as they finished breakfast, when Mr. Collins nearly upset the entire scheme by applying to Mrs. Bennet for a few moments alone with Elizabeth. Elizabeth set down her cup with cold dread creeping over her, but her mother’s response startled her into a heated embarrassment.
“Oh, no, no, Mr. Collins, some other time,” Mrs. Bennet huffed. “Lizzy will be expecting another caller soon, and it is time she went upstairs to dress. Hurry along, Lizzy!” she insisted, although none of the girls had yet stirred from the table.
“Mama, which other caller am I expecting?” Elizabeth asked.
“Why, Mr. Darcy, of course! I declare, if his manner to you last night was not promising, I do not know what is. Quick now, upstairs with you to re-arrange your hair. Oh, Jane, you simply must help your sister, for she looks as if she is just come in from the out of doors!”
Mr. Collins was holding up a finger in bemusement. “Mr. Darcy? I must beg your pardon, my dear Mrs. Bennet, but you cannot have seen what you claim. Why, Mr. Darcy is betrothed! It is perfectly impossible for him to form designs on any other lady.”
“Nevertheless,” Mrs. Bennet said with an airy wave of her hand, “Lizzy is not available to speak with you this morning, Mr. Collins—not until I am assured of how everything shall come out.”
“Mrs. Bennet,” Mr. Collins objected, shooting out of his chair, “I must protest in the most strenuous of terms. You led me to believe that Miss Elizabeth’s hand would be mine for the asking, and now you seek to withhold it on the grounds of one gentleman’s indiscreet behavior toward the lady? A gentleman whom I am assured is already pledged elsewhere? I shall have satisfaction, I declare—”
“Oh, Mr. Collins, I beg you, this is too much for my poor nerves,” Mrs. Bennet sighed. “You must take it up with Mr. Bennet.”
Elizabeth’s ears were hot, and she was trying to hide her face in shame. Slinking from the room seemed the best option, and she rose to slip quietly out when her mother saw her.
“Not toward the kitchen, Lizzy!” she cried. “You will be roaming the mountains if I let you out of my sight. Upstairs with you, and you must remain here today until we know more of Mr. Darcy’s intentions.”
“But Mama, I hardly know Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth argued, though halfheartedly. “I am in no danger of him calling on me after so little inducement.”
“Why should Lizzy get all the attention?” Lydia pouted from across the table. “I had a merry time with Lieutenant Denny at dinner, and I daresay we had far more fun than Lizzy and that stuffy Mr. Darcy. And besides, I saw him leaving Lizzy to go directly to Mary King for two whole dances. How do you know he does not prefer her over Elizabeth?”
“He cannot prefer either of them,” Mary inserted matter-of-factly. “As Mr. Collins has said, if Mr. Darcy is truly a man of honor, he is betrothed to Miss de Bourgh and cannot take an interest in other females. Should he do so, such interest is indecent at its heart. I would caution any woman to reject his advances, if he should make them.”
Elizabeth suppressed a groan. “He is not… never mind.”
“Not what?” Mrs. Bennet demanded. “Not as amiable as he appeared last evening?”
“No, that is not what I was about to say. Yes, he was everything charming, and—”
“A perfect veil for impropriety,” Mr. Collins insisted with a grave shake of his head. “I am sorry for you, Cousin, if you have been misled. Mrs. Bennet, I withdraw my application for Miss Elizabeth’s hand, for a young lady whose insight has thus failed her cannot suit as the companion of my future life.”
Elizabeth did not linger to hear her mother’s response, but she imagined it was far less tear-stricken than it might have been, had her mother not perceived some whiff of interest from another quarter. For her part, Elizabeth felt all aflutter and was secretly more eager even than her mother for her next
encounter with Mr. Darcy.
Late in the morning, the Lucas girls arrived with their mother, and immediately the families interspersed for the most efficient dissemination of the previous night’s gossip. It was generally confirmed that Mr. Bingley was head over ears for Jane, while sources differed regarding Mr. Darcy’s interest—was he smitten with Elizabeth, or was he equally enamored of Mary King, with whom he had danced twice? Or was it possible that he favored neither of them and was altogether more mysterious than previously allowed? And no one could make heads or tails of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who seemed to take an almost professional interest in each lady to cross his path, and never appeared to have his heart touched all evening.
“Oh, bother them all,” Lydia cried. “What about the officers? I think Lieutenant Denny favors me above anyone, but he shall have to work very hard to win my affections from Lieutenant Wickham. Which shall I choose, Maria?”
Charlotte shook her head and gave Elizabeth a significant look. Intrigued, Elizabeth fetched a fresh cup of tea for her friend and took the excuse to change to a closer seat. “Well?”
Charlotte waited for the younger girls to move to a discussion of gowns and music, then murmured low, “You have not heard about Mary King?”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “No…?”
“Maria and Mama do not know yet, because Papa only told me as we were leaving the house. He did not wish to alarm my mother, for he thought it perfectly safe if we all came here together. Also, Maria has been in a state all morning—something about not getting so many dances as she liked, but no matter. Papa did not care to frighten her either, but the fact is, something is afoot.”
“Afoot? Whatever do you mean, Charlotte?”
Charlotte stirred her tea and waited once more for an increase in volume from their younger sisters before she would answer.
“Mary King has vanished.”
25
Darcy could not recall the last morning he had lingered so long in his rooms. Basking in the luster of the previous evening, the only person he longed to speak with was the lady who had illuminated his hopes. That lady, however, would be late in rising herself, and would spend the morning with her family, recuperating. He smiled with a bit of whimsy. It must be exhausting work—dancing in a man’s dreams all night.
He would ride to Longbourn later that day, or perhaps on the morrow when everyone was rested. It was time to have a conversation with Mr. Bennet. For now, he spent his morning in seductive languor, as he sipped his tea, dwelt over his book, and allowed his more amorous thoughts to dwell on his Calypso and her fine eyes. With any luck, she truly would be his soon, perhaps even before Christmastide.
Sometime late in the morning, he recognized Fitzwilliam’s harried knock at his door. Darcy had just buttoned his coat and was about to step out, so he answered readily. Fitzwilliam nearly knocked him down when he burst through.
“Good heavens, man, what is it?” he demanded. “You look as if a dozen men are after you.”
“Ten times worse. Bolt the door,” Fitzwilliam hissed.
Darcy did so, then turned back. Fitzwilliam was pulling at the hair on the sides of his head as if trying to simultaneously scrub the sleep from his eyes and keep himself from bellowing in frustration.
“What the devil?” Darcy asked.
“Lady Catherine. She is here—just arrived from London. She is downstairs demanding to see you even now, and yes, she knows I am here as well.”
Darcy’s stomach dropped. “She did not receive my letter, then. I sent it only day before yesterday. Does she know where Anne is?”
“Not yet, and that is what we must keep from her. You have to get Anne away from here at once. She can marry in less than five days, and then we will be done with it.”
Darcy planted his feet. “I will do no such thing. I will tell our aunt the truth, and if Anne chooses to speak with her, then so be it.”
“Darcy! She is ready to cry compromise, and force you to marry Anne!”
“Compromise? Preposterous! Anne has been chaperoned—”
“A fact that Lady Catherine neither knows nor cares about. I tell you, Darcy, if you do not hie yourself to that cottage at once and take Anne to Plymouth and Mr. Sullivan straightaway, you will find yourself embroiled in a public brouhaha that can only end in a shady marriage between you two. Anne got herself into this. She can bloody well stand a bit of soil on her name if it comes to it, but would you have that for Pemberley? For Georgiana? And if I am not mistaken, your intentions are already set elsewhere.”
Darcy waved impatiently. “Yes, yes, I see. Do you mean you would have me sneak from the house this very minute? Without so much as a word to Bingley or Lady Catherine?”
“I would have you galloping away already if you did not insist on arguing with me. I sent word to the coachman, and your horse is being saddled at once.”
“A horse! I will need more than a horse to carry Anne off.”
Richard caught up Darcy’s hat and stuffed it onto his head. “Already thought of that. I sent word to the livery in Meryton, asking to hire a coach. You cannot go in your own, you know. Now, off with you! I will patch things up with the Bingleys and delay our aunt as long as possible, but I warrant it will not be long. You may have her baying at your heels on a west-bound highway.”
Elizabeth was reclining in the drawing-room with a book when Mr. Collins came back into the house. He had roused himself just as the Lucas ladies were leaving to beg an audience with Charlotte in the garden, and by the smug look on his face, his conversation had yielded the desired result.
She had been cringing in discomfort the whole quarter of an hour. Poor Charlotte, to be accosted by such a man! And though she had hoped for much better for her friend, she knew Charlotte well enough to know that her friend would answer him with practicality rather than romance in mind. Elizabeth’s stomach crawled, even looking at the man, and she raised her book to avoid seeing him. A pity she could not also avoid hearing him.
“I shall go at once to Lucas Lodge,” he was informing the room in general. “There is a particular matter I must discuss with Sir William. Of course, delicacy prevents me from… oh, dear. Oh! Lady Catherine! Goodness me!” His face had gone white, his eyes wide like a terrified hare, and he scrambled from the room after only just remembering to reach for his hat.
Kitty leaned toward the window. “What was that about? Oh! Come and see, everyone! The most enormous carriage has arrived.”
“Carriage?” Mrs. Bennet, forgetting her dignity, raced to the window. “I knew it! And there is the great lady herself, looking out of the window! She is Mr. Darcy’s aunt, is she not? Lizzy, this must be an honor to you—it cannot be otherwise! Run upstairs, girl, and make yourself presentable!”
Elizabeth ran… but she ran for the door.
26
Elizabeth was out of breath when she reached the clearing. She stopped, her hand over her heart as it pounded. It would not do to stumble into the cottage and terrify Mr. Darcy’s cousin out of her wits, and then be so out of breath she could not explain the reason for it all. She collected herself for a moment, then was off again, racing for the cottage.
A familiar face answered her banging on the door. Sarah Long allowed a cautious crack, then her eyes and mouth flew open in astonishment. “Elizabeth! What are you doing—”
“No time to explain, Sarah.” She pushed her friend aside—gently—and forced her way into the inner room of the cottage. There, she beheld a fair-haired woman, perhaps a few years older than herself, who was in the midst of dabbing blood from her index finger. A bit of poorly done needlework lay at her side, and she held her finger as if it pained her.
“Miss de Bourgh, I presume?” she panted. “My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I—”
“Elizabeth Bennet?” Miss de Bourgh blinked, then stood to appraise her. “You are Elizabeth Bennet? Oh, indeed, I see what Richard was saying.”
“Ah…” Elizabeth glanced at Sarah, who merely lifted her shoulders.
“I beg your pardon, Miss de Bourgh, but I came to warn you that not ten minutes ago, Lady Catherine de Bourgh came to my house.”
Miss de Bourgh’s features, already pale, became ghostly white. “My mother? But why?” She drew a long breath and her expression calmed. “It cannot be. Why would she come to your house and not Netherfield? Is Darcy trying to frighten me? Oh! It is Richard, playing one of his jokes.”
“No, no, Miss de Bourgh, I am quite serious. I do not know why she has come, but my cousin is her rector, William Collins. I did not stay to learn what she had to say to him, but she looked greatly agitated, and after what Mr. Darcy told me of your situation, I could not in good conscience stand by without warning you.”
“Collins…” Anne de Bourgh’s teeth clenched, and she cast away the rag with which she had been nursing her injured finger. “That rat! Does he know where I am?”
“No, but he knows where this cottage is, and if he sees me gone, he may think to come here. Come, we must get you away!”
Miss de Bourgh did not budge. “Does Darcy know of this?”
“Mr. Darcy? I cannot know, but what does it matter? If you wish to escape, you must do so now!”
A slow smile crept over the woman’s face. “You would try to help me without him?”
“Only if you will come,” Elizabeth retorted. “Is it so important to you to marry this other man? You may lose the chance, if you do not come away immediately!”
This had the desired effect. Miss de Bourgh gave a sharp nod to Sarah, and at once, they fell to gathering their most immediate belongings. Elizabeth ran outside to find Mr. Brown, and after a hasty explanation, begged him to hitch up his cart to be off at once.
“Wait here,” Darcy ordered the driver. “I will return with the ladies.”