Alone with Mr. Darcy: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (17 page)

Darcy ignored him.

***

Mrs. Collins welcomed him to her sitting
room with a resigned look. “You are very persistent, Mr. Darcy.” At least she
did not sound annoyed.

He decided to meet her bluntness head on.
“You are my only conduit to Miss Elizabeth.”

“Nonsense. You could simply ride to
Longbourn and ask her father where she is. But of course that interest might
lead to questions you do not wish to answer and expectations you do not wish to
meet.” The barbs were back.

“I have already tried that, and he refused
to tell me. I also attempted to call on her sister in London, but she had
already departed from town.”

Clearly he had surprised her.
“Interesting. I had not heard Jane was planning to leave town, but no matter.”
She eyed him with calculation. “But if her father will not reveal her
whereabouts to you, why should I?”

He should have said nothing, but her clear
implication of dishonorable intentions on his part had stung. “He has some
agenda of his own. He said if Elizabeth wanted me to know where she was, she
would have told me herself. He did not suggest how she might have been able to
accomplish that feat.”

Mrs. Collins smothered a giggle. “That is
Mr. Bennet for you. Always inclined to do whatever is least expected.’

“I do not find it amusing.”

“I suppose not. Forgive me; I was not
laughing at you, but at Mr. Bennet’s mischief.”

He accepted her apology with a nod. “May I
inquire if you wrote to Miss Elizabeth?” He had been unable to ask her the
previous day owing to the presence of both Richard and Mr. Collins, and it had
been gnawing at him.”

“I did, but even if she replied to me the
instant she received it and rushed her reply to the post, I could not possibly
hear anything before tomorrow. I could hardly justify sending it express, after
all.”

Darcy counted days in his head. “She
cannot be too far away if a letter can get there in a day.”

She laughed aloud. “Very well, now you may
be certain she is somewhere in Southern England. You should have no trouble
tracking her down with that information.” For once her response did not seem to
have an edge.

After gazing at her for a brief moment,
Darcy allowed himself a slight smile. “I have to begin somewhere.”

“There is every reason to believe she will
not reply immediately. She has many other things to do besides writing to me,
and it might be weeks before I hear anything.”

How well he knew it! That was one of the
thoughts which had haunted him, along with the temptation of telling Mrs.
Collins what he had done for her sister in an effort to convince her to reveal
Elizabeth’s hiding place. “Unfortunately, there is little I can do about that,”
he said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I shall not put you through the
trial of having to call here every day in hope of news. We should have a
signal. I know – if I hear from Lizzy, I will leave a handkerchief half
way out this window. If you do not see a handkerchief, then I have not received
a letter. Will that suit?”

“What if your maid sees the handkerchief
and removes it.”

“Then I shall put it back and instruct her
to leave it there.” This time she definitely did smile.

***

For the next few days, Darcy found excuses
to pass the parsonage frequently, even during a succession of rain. Once he
called on Mrs. Collins simply to reassure himself he had not missed the
handkerchief. Apart from discovering that lady had given over her hostility towards
him in favor of being amused by his desperation, he learned nothing.

It was intolerable. Any one of these days
might put Elizabeth beyond his reach forever. She could be marrying another and
spending their first night together as man and wife. Those images tortured him,
yet he was helpless to do anything about them. He was at Mrs. Collins’s mercy.

Finally he could bear it no longer.
Fortune, in the guise of his aunt, was to bring the Collinses to Rosings for
dinner, where the group setting could allow more opportunities for private
discourse. He could only hope Mrs. Collins would take pity on him this time and
reveal Elizabeth’s whereabouts. If that did not work, he would throw his
scruples to the wind and send for Stanton. It was beyond improper to send
someone to spy on the Bennet household, to ferret secrets from the servants and
to attempt to charm the information out of Elizabeth’s heedless younger
sisters, but he was desperate.

His new resolve inured him to Lady
Catherine’s stream of advice and Richard’s teasing as they awaited their
guests. Finally Mr. and Mrs. Collins were announced. Precisely on time, of
course, but Darcy felt as if he had been waiting for hours.

And then he saw her.

Elizabeth Bennet floated into the room
behind Mrs. Collins, wearing that teasing smile he loved so much. Mrs. Collins
introduced her to Lady Catherine as the dear friend from Hertfordshire she had
mentioned to her ladyship a few days previously. Richard had already put
himself forward for his share of the introductions by the time Darcy’s feet had
unfrozen from the floor. 

He stepped toward her tentatively, as if
she might disappear if he moved too quickly. She had not noticed him yet.

Mrs. Collins said, “And of course you are
already acquainted with Mr. Darcy.”

The color drained from Elizabeth’s face as
she turned to look at him. She took a step backwards, her eyes wide. Then,
remembering herself, she gave the slightest of curtseys and said coldly,
“Indeed, I am acquainted with him.” Then she turned her back to him.

This must be what it felt like to take a
bullet in the chest, a stabbing pain spreading in waves and threatening to
engulf him. It was the one possibility he had not truly believed to be
possible, that, as Mr. Bennet had said, she wanted nothing to do with him.

She was standing stiffly; he could tell
that even from his position behind her. This meeting must have taken her as
much by surprise as it had him. Why had Mrs. Collins chosen not to warn her
friend of his presence? He wondered under what pretense she had lured Elizabeth
here.

Perhaps her reaction was nothing more than
shock and dismay over meeting him so publicly. She would not wish to draw
attention to their connection. That must be it. Why would she suddenly despise
him when two months ago she had been lying sweetly in his arms and returning
his kisses with a burgeoning passion? It made no sense.

Determined, he strode forward and took the
vacant seat closest to her. She made no acknowledgment of his presence,
continuing to attend to Lady Catherine’s current recitation of her great
wisdom. He waited until his aunt’s attention turned to Anne, then said to
Elizabeth, “I hope your journey was not a difficult one.”

Slowly she turned her face toward him, her
expression sober. “My
journey
went smoothly.” She did not need to add
that her arrival was not as happy.

He could not help himself. “I do not
understand,” he said urgently. “Why are you upset with me? Did I do something?
I assure you, if I have offended you, it was not purposeful.”

She bit her lip. “It is not so much what
you did as what you did
not
do.”

“What do you mean?”

Crossing her arms, she asked, “Did you
receive my letter?”

What did that have to do with anything?
She had not seemed angry in the letter Stanton had brought him. “Yes.”

“And you spoke to my father?”

So she already knew he had traveled to
Longbourn. “Yes.”

She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes
blinking rapidly. “You do not even try to deny it,” she whispered. “Then there
is nothing left to say.” She turned back toward Lady Catherine in an obvious
dismissal. 

His hands were trembling. What had
happened to his sweet Elizabeth? He could think of nothing in her letter to
account for any distress, much less something of this magnitude.  Fearing
his agitation would be visible, he rose and crossed to the window where he
could ignore the rest of the company as he wrestled with this unexpected agony.

He heard footsteps behind him but did not
turn. They were not her footsteps; he would have recognized them. “Go away,” he
said.

Richard held out a glass of brandy. He
must have gone to the dining room to fetch it. “You looked like you needed
this,” he said quietly. “Now I will leave you in peace.”

Darcy stared down at the glass, then took
a long sip of it, letting it rush past his tongue so it burned his throat. This
was going to be the longest evening of his life.

***

“Darcy! You are not attending to what I am
saying,” snapped Lady Catherine.

“My apologies. My thoughts were
wandering.” Wandering straight to the parsonage along with the just-departed
guests.

Richard said, “He is tired, and it is my
fault. I sent him the wrong direction on his ride today and it took him hours
to return.”

Why had his cousin concocted that little
story? Not that it mattered. The only thing that did matter was discovering why
Elizabeth had changed so drastically towards him.

It did not help that his gut wrenched
every time he remembered her cold looks. He had tried twice more to approach
her after dinner, but fared no better, unless one counted the stilted polite
conversation when others were watching.

“I
said
, do you not think Anne was
in very good looks tonight?”

Fortunately, no thought was required for
his response. He knew better than to agree with any compliment to Anne unless
he wished for a resumption of the discussion of their fictional engagement.
“Pardon me, madam. I did not notice, but no doubt you are correct.” He had said
some variation on this hundreds of times.

What could he possibly have done to offend
Elizabeth so badly? He had never seen her behave in such a cold manner to
anyone, even if she had no fondness for them. Had she attempted to brush him
off, or said something witty, then turned away, he could believe her to be
indifferent to him or to hold him in some dislike. But she was not indifferent.
She was furious.

Richard silently replaced his empty brandy
snifter with a full one. That was the third time his cousin had given him
brandy this evening. Obviously
he
realized something was wrong, even if
their aunt did not. Richard might tease him mercilessly over minor issues, but
when it came to a real problem, he was as steady as the Rock of
Gibraltar. 

How soon could he decently make his
excuses? He needed to examine Elizabeth’s letter. There had been no reason to
bring it to Kent, but like Elizabeth’s hair ribbon, he found it impossible to
leave it behind. Now he was grateful for the impulse that made him bring it.

He had to find out what in it was the
cause of Elizabeth’s disturbance of spirits. Obviously he must have missed
something despite his repeated perusals of the letter. He would find out what
was amiss, and he would fix it. That was all there was to it.

When a light knock sounded on Elizabeth’s
door, she knew who it must be. “Come in, Charlotte,” she said resignedly. 

Her friend – or perhaps she should
call her a former friend – slipped through the door. Clad in a nightgown
and cap, she looked younger than her eight and twenty years. “I thought it only
fair to give you the opportunity to berate me in private. I did not miss the
looks you have been casting in my direction all evening.”

“And you deserved them! Charlotte, I
cannot
believe you did this to me! Could you not have allowed me to make my own
decision on whether I wished to see him, or at the very least
warned
me?
That was one of the worst moments of my life!”

“Would you have come, had I told you he
was here? Or agreed to meet him?”

“No, I would not! And it should have been
my
decision!”

“Had I thought you would be reasonable on
the subject, I would have told you. But your letters made it clear you never
wished to hear his name again. I was not happy to see him here either, but it
soon became clear to me there is some sort of misunderstanding here. And
completely apart from your wishes, not to mention those of your father, he deserves
the opportunity to state his case to you.”

“Or do you take his side because he is
Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s nephew?”

“Lizzy Bennet, that is quite uncalled for!
If you knew Lady Catherine in the slightest you would be aware the
last
thing she would desire would be to give Darcy the opportunity to marry anyone
beside her daughter.”

“He has no intention of marrying me. And
if not for Lady Catherine’s sake, then
why
? And pray do not tell me how
fortunate I am to have earned the attentions of such an eligible man.”

“Very well, although it is true.”
Charlotte paused and sat down on the bed. “If you truly wish to know, the
reason I sent for you is because he is quite violently in love with you, and
his inability to find you was causing him a great deal of pain. If you do not
wish to marry him, all you need do is say so. There is no reason to make him
suffer for lack of an answer.”

“Did you not hear a word I said? He does
not wish to marry me, and I told him quite clearly where to find me. He
chose
not to find me.”

Charlotte rubbed her hands over her face.
“This is where I cannot agree. I have watched him for more than a week, and he
has been at his wit’s end, begging me to reveal your location, and when I
refused, pleading with me to write to you and tell you he wished to speak to
you. I cannot believe a man of such pride would go through such an act if he
already had the answer. Why would he be so worried about the scandal if he did
not care about you? If he did not want to marry you, why did he go to Longbourn
and ask your father where he could find you? An odd step indeed for a man with
no interest in matrimony!”

Elizabeth clenched her hands into fists.
“I do not believe it. He did not go to Longbourn. My father would have said
something to me. But that is not the most damning part. How could he even know
of the scandal if he did not speak to my father in London and receive my letter
from him? He is not in contact with any of our circle. They would not even know
how to reach him.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Yes!” She was not, in fact, completely
certain, but Charlotte seemed to have missed the point that, whatever game
Darcy might be playing now, he had not come to her assistance. 

“He says he went to your uncle’s house as
well and asked to speak to your sister, only to be told she had left London.”

Shaking her head, Elizabeth said, “That is
ridiculous. Jane is still there.
I
was there. He has made up the entire
story. I do not know why he is playing this game, or what it is he wants.
Surely he knows I would never agree to anything less than marriage.”

“If you would simply talk to him, perhaps
you
could discover the answers! Lizzy, do not let your stubbornness stand
in the way of your future happiness. You did not see his face when I told him
you were contemplating marriage in the near future.”

“Oh, pray tell me you did not! How can I
ever face him? I cannot bear having him know a husband had to be found for me.
It is humiliating!”

More gently Charlotte said, “Have you
agreed to marry him?”

Elizabeth blew out a long breath. “I told
him I would give him my answer on my return, but we both know I have little
choice in the matter.”

“Do you think you could be happy with
him?”

She shrugged. “I do not know. He is amiable enough,
but the way he looks at me makes me nervous. As if I were a possession he was
clever enough to obtain, and that he knows he has the upper hand because I have
to marry. I do not like the idea of being in his power, but I see little
choice.”

“You may have a choice. Will you listen to
Mr. Darcy?”

“You do not know what you are asking,
Charlotte. I will not be his fool again.”

“Well, I know better than to press you
when your mind is made up, but I think you are making a mistake. But he was not
the only reason I wished to speak to you.”

“What else?” Elizabeth said wearily.

The words began to tumble out of
Charlotte’s mouth. “Truly, Lizzy, you cannot know how glad I am that you have
come, quite apart from the matter of Mr. Darcy. I have longed not only to see
you, but to hear more of what happened to Maria. All I have had is tidbits of
information in letters from my mother, and no doubt most of the worst left out,
and it is difficult not to know the entire story.”

Elizabeth spread her fingers on her knees.
Just what she did not want to think about – Mr. Darcy’s efforts on
Maria’s behalf. “I do not know how much I can tell you, as I left Longbourn
only a fortnight after you did.”

“But you were there, during the worst of
it. What happened?”

“I did not see her myself, though I heard
from several people how she appeared on High Street after the blizzard,
disheveled and in deep distress. Your mother kept her secluded at Lucas Lodge
after that, even after Mr. Chamberlayne offered for her. It did nothing to
quell the gossip, since he had been stranded in town with everyone else, and so
it was well known he was not among those who compromised her. I was glad for
Maria’s sake when I heard he was to be transferred to Norfolk.”

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “Poor Maria! It
is such a strange case, and I cannot make it out at all. My mother wrote that
Chamberlayne must have been in love with her all along, but I had never seen
him show the least interest in her. He was always amiable, but he never flirted
with her. He told Maria openly he had been given money and a promotion in
exchange for offering for her, and she assumes it was our father who did it,
though he denies it. Had it been him, he would have owned it to us privately,
but it does not seem the sort of thing he would do. His idea was to send Maria
away. But who else could it have been? I even suspected your father, but I
doubt he could spare the funds.”

Elizabeth was not about to reveal the
answer to that question, not with Charlotte already taking Mr. Darcy’s side.
I
have cleaned up George Wickham’s messes more times than I can count, but I can
do nothing for her if I do not know her name.
“It would not have been my
father. Whoever it may be, I am grateful he did it, and I hope Maria will be
able to find happiness in her marriage.” Even if her gratitude was grudging.

“She misses home terribly and finds
Norfolk depressing. I try to write her as often as I can to ease her
loneliness. It seems all of her friends from Meryton have broken off the
connection.”

“Even Kitty? I am sorry to hear that.”
Elizabeth had been fortunate, since her closest confidantes had been Jane and
Charlotte, and neither of them had cast her off when the rumors began. She
would have to speak to Kitty about writing to Maria. “Is her husband treating
her well?”

“Apparently so, and that raises an even
more curious question. I have no reason to think Chamberlayne would have been
unkind in any case, but it seems whoever arranged for his proposal also agreed
he will receive fifty pounds per year so long as Maria is happy and
well-treated. And
that
is something my father certainly would not think
to do.”

Mr. Darcy must take the task of cleaning
up Wickham’s problems very seriously indeed – and had considered the
possibility that a man bribed to marry Maria could easily desert or mistreat
her. But if he did so much for Maria, whom he did not even know, why had he not
honored his word to her?

The pain in her palms made her realize she
was digging her fingernails into them. She would never understand Mr. Darcy.
And despite her sympathy with Charlotte’s concern over Maria, she would not be
in a hurry to forgive Charlotte for putting her in this position.

***

In the morning, Elizabeth opened the
wardrobe and stared at her trunk. It would not take long to pack it, since she
had not fully unpacked it the day before owing to the need to be prompt for
dinner at Rosings. Had she known whom she would discover there, she would have
asked to remain at the parsonage instead.

The worst part was how her heart and her
body kept betraying her. When she had realized Mr. Darcy was in the same room,
her first impulse had been to throw herself into his arms. The urge to be near
him, to touch him, gnawed at her all evening. And her heart wanted nothing more
than to forgive him, to believe this had all been a terrible mistake and he was
still willing to marry her. And according to Charlotte, he was.

But even if it were true, being willing
was a long way from wanting to marry her. Now matters between them were even
more unequal than during the snowstorm, because she had been fool enough to
fall in love with him. If she did marry him, all the power would be his, and
she would be devastated when his interest wandered from her, as inevitably it
would.

Her father had been faithful to her
mother, but that had been more a matter of his lethargy than anything else.
Finding a mistress was too much work for him to be willing to undertake it. It
would be no trouble at all for Mr. Darcy; all he would need was to crook his
finger and women would come running to him.

Elizabeth bent forward over her knees as
nausea roiled her innards. No, willingness to marry was not enough, tempting as
it might be to accept the scraps he would offer.

And
why
was he suddenly willing,
anyway? He admitted to receiving her letter and speaking to her father, but had
done nothing about it. Then, on his arrival at Rosings, he became suddenly
anxious to see her, but not anxious enough to travel to Cheapside to do it.
Charlotte’s argument fell apart there. He had received her letter so he knew
where she was. Had it been merely for his convenience he had wanted her brought
here? For that matter, if it was beneath his dignity to go to Gracechurch
Street, why had he not tried to send for her himself long before he saw
Charlotte?

Charlotte. That must be the answer. As
long as he felt safe from gossip tainting his good name, he had not pursued
her. Then he had come to Rosings and discovered there was someone who could
expose his behavior; a woman whose husband could not be kept quiet for an hour
with a leather gag, much less for the rest of his life, a woman who had nearly
lost a sister to scandal and would thus be doubly protective of her friend in
the same situation. From his point of view, Charlotte would have every reason
to expose him. And abruptly he had reverted to wanting to marry her.
Willing
in this case meant
barely willing
.

Poor Charlotte, knowing nothing of her
father’s call on Mr. Darcy, had misinterpreted his distress as violent love
when it was nothing more than fear for his good name. And Charlotte claimed she
was not romantic!

Elizabeth picked up her brush and began
tugging it through her hair, wishing it were as easy to make a decision as it
was to yank the brush through a tangle. It hurt for a minute, and then it was
done. But what was she to do about the tangle which was Mr. Darcy? And why did
she have to remember how he had combed out her hair in the cottage, then kissed
her neck?”

Her first impulse, leaving Kent, was not a
solution. As long as he feared his secret would be exposed, he would come after
her. Charlotte had been right about one thing, though, which was she had to
tell him her choice directly. If he proposed and she refused, no one could say
he had not done the honorable thing. Then she could return to London, but she
still would not be free. She would have to marry Mr. Hartshorne to quell the
scandal. He would never break her heart, but he also could not provide her a
home in her beloved countryside. She would be trapped in London forever, with
only an occasional excursion to remind her of what she had lost.

Or she could accept Mr. Darcy’s proposal
and face the heartbreak of a lifetime with a man who had no respect for her,
but at least it would be a life of ease and provide the freedom to travel. He
presumably would not care if she wished to stay at Longbourn when he was in
London. In fact, he might be happier that way, free of the responsibility of a
wife who was an embarrassment to him.