A Pemberley Medley (A Pride & Prejudice Variation) (5 page)

She had decided not to tell her family about Mr. Darcy’s interest in her until she was certain he intended to return - which would, unfortunately, likely not be until she learned of his return to Netherfield, if it did indeed occur. She did not want to face the foolishness of disappointed hopes in public, and she knew without the shadow of a doubt that her mother could not possibly keep such news to herself.

Mr. Darcy had been quite clear she was not to expect him before the Bingleys’ return to Netherfield, so it was with no little surprise that only two weeks later she heard Kitty announce the news that he was riding up the lane. She coloured; surely this must mean that his intentions were unchanged, but why would he be returning so early? More importantly, how was she to explain it to her family? She quickly turned her mind to the question of how to most quickly extricate him from the bosom of her family, but had only a moment before his knock at the door.

She waited anxiously for him to be announced, but as she watched the door, she saw Hill leading him past the sitting room. He glanced in for only a moment as he passed, just managing to catch Elizabeth’s eye; his expression was serious, almost grave, as she had known it to be in the past. Her pulses fluttered as she realized where he must be going, and an even deeper flush stole up her cheeks at not only the idea of him speaking to her father, but how her father was likely to receive him.

“Lord, I wonder what
he
is doing here?” asked Lydia.

“No doubt he is passing through, and has a letter or some intelligence of Mrs. Bingley,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him. Why, he is too proud to even stop to pay his compliments to us!” Mrs. Bennet’s delight in pronouncing Jane’s new name was undiminished in two weeks of practice. Kitty and Lydia looked at one another and giggled.

This is a poor beginning indeed!
thought Elizabeth.

“I believe he is here to see me,” she said evenly.

“What nonsense you talk, Lizzy! Why would he come to see
you
? We all know what he thinks of you!” cried Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth shrugged lightly, for all the world as if she did not know the explosion which was to follow her words. “Perhaps, but he did ask at Jane’s wedding for my permission to call on me; and I gave it.”

The effect of her words was most extraordinary; for on hearing them, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. She was not in general backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any of them, but it was many minutes while Elizabeth waited in agony for Darcy’s appearance until she could comprehend it.

Her sisters were not so slow. “Not Mr. Darcy!” cried Lydia. “Lizzy, you must be joking! Lord, he is
so
dull, and we all know of the infamous way he treated dear Mr. Wickham!”

“He is too proud to speak to the likes of us!” added Kitty, laughing at the very idea.

Elizabeth could only hope that their manners would be improved by the time Mr. Darcy was done with her father. She kept a closer eye on her mother, who was still fanning herself and gazing at Elizabeth in shock. She had certainly hoped to have more time than this to acquaint her family with the idea.

Finally the dam broke on Mrs. Bennet’s words. “Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! oh, Lizzy, why did you say
nothing
? Your hair, your gown... but it is too late, we can only hope - Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! I am so pleased - so happy.”

She clearly would have continued for some time in this vein, had not Elizabeth interrupted to say, “He asked only to
call
, no more; and he will no doubt be here any minute. Please, can we speak of something else?”

“Oh, Lord!” cried her mother, fidgeting about in her chair. “Of course he will be here. Mary, Kitty, Lydia - you must go upstairs - no, you must go to Meryton! Yes, Meryton will do - and my dear, dear Lizzy!” She came to Elizabeth and pinched her cheeks to bring colour to them, hardly a necessary task at the moment, and to smooth her hair. “Oh, it will have to do, but why did you not warn me, Lizzy? Such a charming man! So handsome, so tall!”

“There is no account for sending my sisters away,” objected Elizabeth, who could not help being amused as she recalled the same ploy being used on Jane.

“Oh, there most certainly is!” Mrs. Bennet waved her hands at the younger girls, urging them on to a hasty departure.

Elizabeth could only imagine with embarrassment what Mr. Darcy would make of this scene. She hoped desperately that her mother’s effusions would be over by the time he came, though she was also beginning to worry about what might be keeping Mr. Darcy so long with her father. And the implications of what it meant that he was talking to her father was not something she was ready to consider.

At that moment the two gentlemen appeared. Elizabeth’s eyes flew immediately to Darcy, and she was a little relieved by his smile. Not even her worries about her parents’ want of propriety could stop the burst of pleasure she felt on seeing him, and he seemed reassured by her appearance as well.

Her father sent her an amused look, and said dryly, “Well, Lizzy, it seems that Mr. Darcy has ridden all the way from London today to see you.” He clearly anticipated that this would come as quite a shock to her.

“I hope it was a pleasant ride, sir,” she said calmly. “Would you care to sit?”

Mr. Bennet, taken aback, quickly excused himself as Darcy paid his respects to Mrs. Bennet and then to Elizabeth.

It was an uncomfortable moment; Elizabeth had never considered what she might say in these circumstances. She asked after his sister, who he reassured her was in excellent health, and about his stay in town. To Elizabeth’s great relief, her mother luckily stood in such awe of their guest that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference for his opinion. This formal conversation continued for some time, with too much discomfort on the part of the main participants to do more than allow their eyes to meet on occasion, until Mrs. Bennet remembered that she was wanted elsewhere. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the blatancy of this maneuver, but knew there was no use in protest.

Once they were alone, Darcy looked at her with great warmth. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice replete with feeling. She coloured, and dropped her eyes in embarrassment, a pointless effort since he took advantage of the moment to take her hand in his and raise it to his lips. The sensation produced by his kiss seemed to race down her arm like electricity, leaving her momentarily speechless. He asked tentatively, “You have not changed your mind?”

She responded to him with an arch smile. “Not in the last weeks; although we both have reason to know, sir, that my opinions are not entirely unalterable, I do not intend to change them again. But
you
are before your time, Mr. Darcy.”

His smile slowly grew at her teasing. “Before I respond to that, let me ask you this: how long do we have before your mother returns?” He had not relinquished her hand, a state of affairs which she was finding surprisingly distracting.

Elizabeth felt a lurch inside at his words. “We have all the time in the world - were it within my mother’s power, I am sure she would post armed guards at the door to make sure we are not disturbed.” She glanced at him quickly to see how he took this additional evidence of impropriety on her family’s part, but he seemed not in the least displeased.

“You should, perhaps, not have told me that,” he said, but his tone implied quite the opposite. “But I will take the time to answer your question then - I came early because I wanted to see you. I realized that the only reason to delay was so that I could court you without bringing it to public notice, and I decided to risk the possible embarrassment of having you refuse me publicly if it meant I did not need to wait out two very long months.”

“And you decided to begin with my father?” she asked mischievously.

He looked slightly embarrassed. “I thought that if I was to be open about this, I might as well do it properly; so I asked his permission to call on you. He seemed ... quite stunned.”

She coloured at the implied question. “I thought it best not to mention the possibility, in case you were to change your mind.”

“I, change my mind?” he said in a surprised voice. “I cannot imagine why you would think that.”

She looked down. “What may occur in the heat of the moment may not always be what might be wished for in a moment of more sober reflection.”

This comment was met by silence. Finally, in a carefully neutral voice, Darcy said, “What is it that you have wished for in your moments of sober reflection?”

She gave him a sidelong glance with a smile. “Surely, Mr. Darcy, you cannot expect me to answer that question!”

“You have not regretted it?”

With a teasing look, she said, “No, I have not; but I believe I have already told you that, sir.”

His relief was so great that he acted without thought, catching her face in his hand and caressing her lips with his for a mere moment. “Then do not say such things!” He had clearly startled her with his behaviour, and he cursed himself and his lack of self-control.

Elizabeth was experiencing the shock of sensation that came with his touch. It had been all too brief, yet she knew she should not have allowed it in the first place. “What should I say, then?” she asked archly.

Darcy drew in a quick breath. Was she
flirting
with him? If so, he would need to be very careful indeed; he was by no means certain of his self-control when she looked at him like that. Choosing his words with care, he said, “While there are a great number of things I should
like
to hear you say, I think that we both know what you
should
say, and it involves reproaching me for my behaviour.”

She smiled as if at some inner joke. “I cannot disagree, though I would have to admit that I am a few weeks late in saying it.”

He was beginning to see that there were flaws in his earlier reasoning that a gradual wooing, giving her time to truly get to know him, was the best option. “Be careful, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “You do not know how you tempt me.”

Elizabeth had a strong impulse to ask him to tell her just how she did tempt him, but she checked herself, reminding herself of how her liveliness had led her astray with him in the past. She wished she knew what was in his mind; he evidently did not intend to propose to her yet, though he must know from her behaviour that she would not refuse - could not, after allowing him to kiss her, not just once, but several times without protest. Perhaps he was not as certain of his choice as he appeared. He had spoken of the possibility of his embarrassment if she refused him - but was there anything to stop him from changing his mind, leaving her to face the humiliation of being jilted? The very thought was painful enough; she resolved to be less forward, and to remember that he had by no means made a commitment.

Darcy saw her smile fade somewhat, and berated himself anew, realizing that once again he had gone too far. He reminded himself yet again that the behaviour she had permitted during a moment of distress was likely to be unacceptable in a calmer frame of mind. Unfortunately, his desperate desire to taste her lips again was such as to keep countering his rational mind, and that slight contact had not been enough to do more than to whet his need for her.

He was a man torn; he wanted a return of her teasing smiles and flirtatious looks, but he knew how very effectively they would undermine his restraint. “Eliz....Miss Bennet,” he said, “I must throw myself on your mercy. I want.... I would
like
to give you time to come to know me. My ability to be patient, however, is not what it ought to be where you are concerned; and most especially when you are... welcoming to me. You do not know the effect you have on me. Please understand if I need to keep a certain distance in order to maintain a standard of behaviour.”