Falling for Mr. Darcy (10 page)

Mr. Darcy could not believe his ears! He was about to ask for that very dance from Miss Elizabeth when interrupted by Mr. Collins’s ridiculous speech and then thwarted by the precipitous request Collins made to his cousin. Mr. Darcy was now contemplating the very great pleasure that murdering a clergyman could bring.

Elizabeth schooled her face into one of apathy and responded with a low voice that did not disguise her frustration to everyone except the man to which it was leveled. “Thank you, Mr. Collins. It would be my pleasure.” The last was said through clenched teeth and she looked away immediately.

The atmosphere in the room was stilted for a moment as people either were still stunned by the abrupt speech by Mr. Collins or by the cold tone of Elizabeth’s reply. Mr. Bingley collected himself first and turned towards Jane in a request for her hand for the first set as well. At this, previous conversations resumed, and a delighted Mr. Collins again turned to speak with Jane and Bingley.

Elizabeth’s delight in the upcoming ball was significantly reduced after the request from her cousin. Determining to find some enjoyment in the evening, she turned towards Mr. Darcy, hoping to encourage him to continue where he left off before her cousin once again interrupted them. “Mr. Darcy, I apologize for my cousin’s intrusion. I believe that you were saying something?”

Mr. Darcy was startled out of his irritated thoughts by the pleading eyes of Miss Elizabeth. He sighed as he was calmed by her look. He felt a wave of compassion for her as he could see the delight she once had discussing the ball had dimmed. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you are correct. I was hoping, that is, I was preparing to ask if you would permit me to dance a set with you. As you are engaged for the first set, perhaps the supper set?”

Elizabeth was pleased that he chose the supper set as it indicated to her that he would want to continue in her presence into the meal. Feeling contented again, she smiled at him in response and accepted his hand for the supper set.

“And Miss Elizabeth, if you are not already engaged for the last set, may I apply for that one as well?

Elizabeth was stunned that he would request two dances right away and felt the compliment, as she realized he had never before asked any other lady of the neighborhood to dance. She blushed as she responded with a soft chuckle, “You are most fortunate, sir, for I am not engaged for that set either. I would be most delighted, sir.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, thinking with pleasure about their upcoming dances until, with relief, Mr. Darcy noticed Mr. Collins stand and thought,
finally, he is leaving!
But it was not to be, and to Mr. Darcy’s horror, the clergyman approached him and began to perform a very low bow so near to him that he had to lean back in his chair to avoid a collision. Elizabeth noticed the shock and surprise on Mr. Darcy’s face and once again felt embarrassed by the behavior of her relations. Mr. Collins rose from his bow and began to address Mr. Darcy.

His excitement was evident as the skin at his neck began to flap side-to-side. The low bow had dislodged a few strands of his greasy, combed-over hair, causing them to fold outwards from his head and protrude stiffly above his ear into the airspace beside his head. He rubbed his sausage fingers together as he spoke with a severe reverence and the small movement caused the hair flap to bob in the air. “Mr. Darcy, sir, forgive me for not paying my addresses and respects before now as it has just occurred to me that you are the nephew of my most esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Had I realized earlier, you may be sure I would have been most attentive in my discussions with you, and it is my pleasure to assure you that your aunt was in the best of health four days ago, sir.” With this, he bowed again, dislodging a few more strands of sweat-soaked hair from their place.

Elizabeth was shocked to hear Mr. Darcy thus accosted and even more amazed that he had not mentioned his connection to Lady Catherine when her cousin first introduced himself and mentioned her. She wondered if the sort of treatment he was now receiving was the reason. She smiled in amusement and was the recipient of a look of feigned reproach from Mr. Darcy before he turned to her cousin.

“Mr. Collins, I thank you for your assurances as to the health of my aunt.”

“It is my pleasure, Mr. Darcy. As you may know, I am often in the presence of your aunt and your elegant cousin Miss de Bourgh. It is indeed a treat, a pleasure, to be acquainted now with another of that illustrious and most noble family. In fact, if I may be so bold, I congratulate you and wish you well on your future nuptials to your cousin Anne. You are, sir — and in this I share the opinion with your aunt, her ladyship — taking away one of England’s finest ladies.”

Mr. Darcy drew in a long breath and held it.
I cannot believe he has presumed to bring up the ridiculous engagement with Anne!
Darcy was furious with the parson and even more so with his aunt, who was obviously making public statements that he would marry his cousin. He had tried to dispel her of this notion as neither he nor his cousin was inclined towards marriage to the other. He also knew with absolute certainty that it was not the favorite wish of his mother as his Aunt Catherine always claimed.
She just will not give up! The audacity of the woman!
Mr. Darcy was beginning to feel his anger cause him to lose composure when he looked over to Elizabeth and his heart stopped. She had grown pale and was looking down at her hands.
Oh no! What must she think now?
He was humiliated that she would think he was trifling with her.

Elizabeth, upon hearing the news that Mr. Darcy was engaged to his cousin, was struck dumb. Feelings of foolishness flooded her awareness as her disappointment became acute.
I should not have allowed my feelings to run away like this.
Three days before, she would have cared little for the news that Mr. Darcy was engaged to another woman. She did not want to think about why it bothered her so much now and, instead, berated herself for trusting his recent, easy affections and for allowing them to creep into her heart and color her feelings towards the man. She knew he was above her in society’s station, and she felt embarrassed for having forgotten that and allowing something akin to hope to take root in her heart. She looked down at her hands on her lap and tried to still them as they began to tremble. Suddenly, the air in the room became too stifling for her, and she stood abruptly to excuse herself.

Mr. Darcy could see strong emotions playing in her eyes, but he could not get his mind to work quickly enough to forestall her, so he watched her leave in a state of disbelief. A few minutes later, he heard her go out the front door. He looked towards Bingley, who responded with a look that indicated he did not understand what just happened. Jane looked concerned; having not heard Mr. Collins’s speech, she did not know why her sister left so quickly. It was at this point that Mr. Bingley reluctantly made his move towards taking his leave. He addressed Mrs. Bennet, the rest of the ladies in attendance and Mr. Collins on behalf of himself and Mr. Darcy, and the two gentlemen left the house.

Upon their exit, Mr. Bingley turned to his friend. “Darcy, what the devil happened in there? I saw that silly Collins come up to you and say something, and then you looked like you were going to commit murder; Miss Elizabeth looked as if she was going to be sick, and then she left.”

“I cannot talk about it now, Bingley.” Mr. Darcy was about to mount his horse when he heard a noise from around the side of the house. “Bingley, give me a minute. Go on without me, and I will catch up with you shortly.”

Bingley looked questioningly at his friend but shrugged and kicked his horse into movement, turning it towards the gate. Mr. Darcy waited until he could see his friend pass through the gate and then walked slowly around the side of the house. In the distance, he spied Elizabeth sitting on a swing attached to a colossal oak tree. She had her back to him, and she was kicking the ground with her slippers as she rocked back and forth. She looked so young and fragile with her shoulders slumped against one of the ropes. He realized he had never seen Elizabeth look vulnerable. She always had a strength about her that made her seem impenetrable. He took a few silent steps towards her, closing the distance between them.

Elizabeth sat on her childhood swing trying to curb her swaying emotions. She went from extreme disappointment, to anger at Mr. Darcy’s attentions, to frustration with herself for setting herself up for an obvious fall. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard a familiar voice call her name softly.

“Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy’s voice caught as she stopped her movements on the swing and stiffened at the sound. When she did not turn to acknowledge him, he closed the distance and began again. “Elizabeth, I do not want to assume the reason for your hasty departure. It does pain me, though, to see you upset. I can explain about what your cousin alluded to —”

At this, Elizabeth stood and turned quickly towards Mr. Darcy with her anger rising. Interrupting him, she said, “Pray, Mr. Darcy, stop. You owe me no explanation, and I ask that you do not address me in that familiar way. You have not the right nor my permission to do so.”

Her eyes were ablaze with her anger towards him, and her mouth set in a grim line. She stood erect with her shoulders back in defiance, and her hands grasped tightly to the ropes of the swing. Her knuckles were turning white with the strength of her hold. There was a slight breeze that caused the delicate coils of hair near her temples to tremble slightly. The entire image caught Darcy as irresistible.
She is so beautiful!
Her appearance caused feelings of scalding delight in him, even as he felt acutely the pain of her anger. He could not help himself from drinking in her beauty enhanced by the display of passion. He tried to pull his mind back to attend to her words, and he was properly taken aback by her biting remarks. He knew he should not address her as he did but it was beyond him not to. A pain shot through him as he saw the turn of her features; the sweetness that was becoming familiar to him was absent.

“Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I am sorry to have upset you. I will leave you now if it is what you wish, but I must beg you to be allowed to say one thing before I go.”

“I do wish it, sir.” She spoke firmly, but even though her voice was still cold, she felt the strength of her resolve falter at the gentleness in his voice.

He bowed slowly in acknowledgement of her request for his departure. Straightening to his full stature, he looked at her face and waited until her eyes met his before speaking with a firm but tender tone, “Miss Bennet, I will have you know that I am neither by honor nor by inclination bound to marry my cousin.” With that, he bowed again and said only, “Good day, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth could not tear her gaze from him as she watched him turn and walk slowly out of the garden. His words had touched her. With one sentence, he had set at ease many of the troubling thoughts that had begun to burden her heart. She began to hope again that, by wanting to clarify this fact, he was essentially making a sort of declaration to her about his feelings. She did not think that she was prepared to make a similar declaration but did not want to see him leave with her anger still in the air.

“Mr. Darcy!” she called out to him.

Mr. Darcy stopped at the sound of her voice and hesitated a moment. He was glad to hear her call him back as he had begun to feel an acute sense of loss, but he could not tell from the tone of her voice whether she was still angry with him, and so he turned slowly. He said nothing and tried to keep his face impassive as he looked towards her. Her face was softened, and the tension in his chest lessened somewhat at the sight. He watched as she nodded her acknowledgement of his previous statement and gave him a small smile. The tension fell away completely as he heard her sweet, soft voice address him.

“Good day to you, too, sir.”

He smiled softly at her and bowed again before turning to leave the garden. Elizabeth watched until he disappeared around the side of the house and heard his horse’s hooves leave the courtyard before she turned and sat back down on the swing.

Chapter 4

Curled up with a book of sonnets in her father’s library, Elizabeth tried once again to escape the chorus of her family’s voices in other parts of the house. It was still raining, and the north-facing windows of the library took the thumping of the downpour, creating a relaxing hum throughout the room. It had rained heavily since the day after the gentlemen had stopped by Longbourn to extend their invitation to the ball. Everyone was excited about the event, not the least of whom was her mother, and the poor weather only intensified her agitated vocalizations as she dictated this and that for each girl’s preparation. Although it was not specified, Mrs. Bennet was certain the dance was held in honor of her sweet Jane, and she was determined that all her daughters were to look their best. Mr. Collins was still eagerly courting Lizzy, and the news that the officers in Meryton were invited to the dance rounded out her hopes for the evening for the rest of her daughters. As the fevered pitch of her mother’s voice seeped into the stillness of the library yet again, Elizabeth looked up at her father in the chair opposite her near the fire.

Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes and lowered his head to his book. Elizabeth pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and drooped lower into her chair in escape. She loved being in the library. The scents of leather, aged paper and her father’s cigars filled her senses with calm and comfort. It was a place in which she rarely had to behave as dictated by society. Even now, she did not sit up properly as a lady ought. She tucked her feet beneath her in the giant, leather armchair, dropping her slippers haphazardly on the floor. Sitting with a most unladylike posture, her shoulders hunched forward and her head leaning against the wing of the chair, she could comfortably escape into the peace of a book. It was
her
chair: the one Mr. Bennet always allowed her to use, sitting opposite to its twin near the fireplace. Mr. Bennet sat in the other with his legs propped up on an ottoman.