The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (29 page)

Bingley had been gazing silently at Jane, trying to discern her mood. He stood as well. “I think I will join you. It
was
a long carriage ride. Miss Bennet, will you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

Jane readily assented and the four of them set off. Once outside, the two couples split apart by tacit agreement, although Bingley gave Elizabeth some anxious glances to reassure himself that she welcomed Darcy’s attention. Elizabeth led Darcy to the roses that neither had any interest in. Knowing that they were still in view of the house, Darcy turned his broad back to the windows, shielding Elizabeth from view entirely. Then he took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

“How I have missed you! The hours passed so slowly.” He said heatedly.

She nodded agreement and gave him a heart stopping smile. “I hope we never have to be separated like that again. But I am very happy you are here now.”

“I am as well. Apparently I am arrived in time to prevent you from committing bigamy. Mr. Fenton told us that you are engaged to him.”

“He said that?” Her hand flew to her mouth in dismay. “That fool!” She stamped her foot as embarrassment gave way to anger. “I- I- refused him yesterday, but he would not accept it. He thinks that my mother’s approval is all that is required.” Her eyes met Darcy’s. “I am so sorry, William, for any pain it caused you.”

“I must admit that his announcement came as something of a shock. And poor Bingley was afraid I would die of a broken heart right there in the drawing room. But then I almost burst into laughter. After all, the whole situation is entirely ridiculous.”

Elizabeth returned his smile. “It is humorous. The man droned on about his house and his horses and simply would not believe me when I told him no!” She gazed up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I had thought that being married would mean I would receive no more offers of marriage. How silly of me!”

“Well, madam, I do hope that you will not expect to receive more proposals during our marriage,” he said with a smile.

“I do not know. I am accumulating quite a collection of them. Perhaps only one or two a year would suffice,” she said flirtatiously. “If you do not mind, sir?”

The playful expression on her face was too much for Darcy. “I must object quite adamantly!” He pulled her behind a tree, kissing her as thoroughly as he had wanted all day. She returned his kisses with equal passion. When they stopped, gasping for breath, Elizabeth said, “I am afraid we must return to where we are visible from the window or my mother will come seeking us – or worse, send Mr. Fenton.”

He gave her one last kiss and then they strolled out from behind the tree. She took his arm and they walked about as if admiring the flowers, but the only beauty that held Darcy’s interest was his wife’s. She sighed, “I wish I knew what to do about Mr. Fenton. He would not listen when I told him no – and I cannot reveal the one reason which would discourage him permanently. A more sensitive man might notice my partiality for you, but I am certain he is blind to it.” She shuddered. “I hate to think what he has been saying in Meryton. Soon the entire neighborhood will believe I am marrying him!”

Darcy felt a surge of anger toward Fenton for causing her any distress, but then he thought of a solution. “My love,” he said with a wicked grin. “Leave this to me. I am happy to be of service to you in this regard.”

“What do you plan to do?” She asked, returning his smile.

“You shall see,” was all he would say. They spied Jane and Bingley standing near the entrance to the garden and walked over to join the other couple. Soon they were engaged a humorous conversation about Mr. Fenton’s misconceptions. Even Jane, who never thought ill of anyone, had to admit that the man’s failure to accept Elizabeth’s refusal made him somewhat ridiculous. In that moment, it was all Darcy could do to avoid revealing the truth of his relationship with Elizabeth.

Jane soon admitted to being chilled, so she and Bingley returned to the house. Darcy was loath to relinquish Elizabeth so quickly and she was happy to delay facing the odious Fenton, so they walked to the far side of the garden, admiring the late summer flowers. They were holding hands and conversing quietly with their heads bowed when Darcy spied Fenton emerging from the house. Darcy immediately placed his arm around Elizabeth and gave her a light kiss. It was not the thorough, deep kisses they had enjoyed earlier, but it was unmistakably a kiss. After they separated, Elizabeth glanced at Fenton, who was frowning over Darcy’s liberties with his “fiancée.”

“William, what if he says something to my father?” Elizabeth asked.

Darcy replied to her, but gave Fenton a long, steady look. “I have a plan, my love. You go into the house. I must converse with Mr. Fenton.” Elizabeth was curious as to what the plan entailed, but she went to the house without another word. Before she entered the house, she turned back and saw Darcy sauntering over to where Fenton stood near the roses.

Elizabeth joined Jane and Bingley in the drawing room and, after a few minutes, Darcy also arrived, but volunteered nothing about his conversation with Fenton. Unable to contain her curiosity, Elizabeth ventured into the hall, ostensibly in search of her mother.

Surprisingly, Fenton had already departed, but her mother was standing the hallway, wringing her hands in agitation. She rounded on her second oldest daughter when she emerged from the drawing room. “Oh, what did you do? Mr. Fenton says he was too hasty! He says he needs to talk to your father about the engagement, but did not want to do it today. What happened?” Mrs. Bennet fluttered around the hallway. “Oh my poor nerves! Things were going so well. What did you do to put him off? Did you have a row? Perhaps there is still some hope of repairing the damage!”

Elizabeth replied truthfully that she had not spoken to Mr. Fenton at all in the garden and that his behavior was a mystery to her. Returning to the drawing room, she wondered what Darcy could possibly have said to him; however, there was no opportunity for a private conversation.

All too soon the sun was growing lower in the sky and it was time for the gentlemen to leave for Netherfield. Elizabeth and Jane walked out with them to their carriage. Bingley and Jane soon fell to murmuring to each other. As they stood on the sweep of the drive, Elizabeth turned to Darcy. “What did you say to Mr. Fenton?”

Darcy gave a small smile. “I merely reminded him that he did not have your
father’s
permission to marry you and that he should not be so quick to announce an engagement without it.”

“That cannot be the whole of your conversation! What did he say about the kiss?”

“We did not discuss it directly, but he realizes if he tells anyone about the kiss, your father will say I have to marry you. I do not believe he has given up hope of you, but now he knows there is competition. So he shall be more discreet in his courtship.”

“You, sir, are diabolical!” Darcy merely grinned. “Of course, what I wish is not for him to be discreet, but to leave Hertfordshire and never return, but we cannot have everything. He will soon learn he cannot compete with you.”

His eyes shone brightly as he kissed her hand and murmured, “It is my pleasure to discourage other men from proposing to my wife.” The kiss sent a thrill down Elizabeth’s spine, turning what could have been a flippant statement into an endearment.

Too soon the men had said their goodbyes and climbed reluctantly into the carriage. Elizabeth walked with Jane back into the house, their feet crunching on the gravel of the drive. She missed Darcy already.

By the time dinner had ended, Elizabeth had had enough of her mother’s harangues. She took tea to her father in his study, hoping he would offer her temporary shelter. Her exasperated expression made him smile as he put down his book. “At least your mother knew better this time than to ask me to advocate for Mr. Fenton. She knows I would never attempt to compel you against your will.”

“I know, Papa. I appreciate it – that you trust my judgment.” She sighed in frustration. “I just wish Mr. Fenton would stop his visits. Today, he told Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley that we are engaged!”

Mr. Bennet laughed despite the chagrin on Elizabeth’s face and she found herself wishing he did not see everything as a source of humor. He shook his head. “I would hope Bingley had the sense not to believe such a tale. And who cares what Mr. Darcy thinks? His opinion of you is already so low.”

Elizabeth winced at this sentiment, but recognized an opportunity to discuss her change of heart as she seated herself in a chair opposite her father’s desk. “Actually I believe Mr. Darcy improves upon further acquaintance.”

“Truly, Lizzy?” Her father regarded her skeptically over the top of his glasses.

“Yes. I saw him in Paris and he was quite amiable. He danced with me at a ball and invited us to see the sights with him on a number of occasions.”

“Indeed? Well, he must have found the society in Paris somewhat thin to stoop to visiting with someone who is only tolerable, eh?” His smile invited her to share the joke.

“I do not believe that to be the case,” Elizabeth attempted to display all the earnestness she could muster. Not for the first time she wished she had been less vociferous in sharing her previous opinions about Darcy.

However, she recognized a losing battle when she was faced with it. Her father’s eyes were drifting down to the book open on his desk. He never had a long attention span for this type of conversation, and clearly it had been exhausted.

“I will leave you to your book.” He nodded absently to her and she left the room, hoping she had made a little progress in changing her father’s opinion of Darcy, but recognizing how far they still had to go.

The next day, Darcy and Bingley joined the Bennets for luncheon. Elizabeth knew her mother had only invited Darcy because she could not politely exclude Bingley’s guest. Nor, clearly, did Mrs. Bennet suspect his regard for Elizabeth because her mother seated him as distantly from her as possible. As they sat to eat, Darcy gave her a hopeless look and she rolled her eyes in sympathy, but there was no recourse.

Frequently when she glanced up from her meal, she observed Darcy’s eyes on her and knew he experienced the same longing she did. His eyes held so much love and desire that Elizabeth thought surely he had betrayed their secret to the others. She did notice Bingley’s eyes traveling from Darcy to her with raised eyebrows, but no one else seemed to pay them any mind.

After luncheon her mother retired to rest her nerves and Kitty and Mary left for a visit to Maria Lucas. In the drawing room Darcy managed to secure a seat next to Elizabeth, but her father was on the other side, so they dared not attempt any form of intimacy. By now Elizabeth had an almost palpable sense of yearning for his touch and reassurance and, from the glances he bestowed on her, Elizabeth was certain Darcy was feeling the same.

She was surprised that her father was still with them in the drawing room; most days after luncheon he had already retreated to the library. Why had he had decided to stay?

Her consternation increased when her father addressed Darcy, “Mr. Darcy, I did not realize until recently that you had encountered Lizzy in Paris.” A careful glance at her father’s face suggested to Elizabeth that he had a deeper purpose behind seemingly casual questions.

Darcy inclined his head. “I did have that pleasure. We met quite by chance at a ball.”

Mr. Bennet turned his attention to his second daughter. “Well, I realized that we have heard very little of your trip to France and your daring escape,” her father said genially, but she sensed the hint of steel in his tone.

“I have hardly had an opportunity to discuss it,” Elizabeth responded. “The whole household has been in a bit of an uproar since I returned.” Although Darcy and Bingley knew of Lydia’s situation, she felt it would be indelicate to refer to it in front of her father.

“The only news we had of the Gardiners was that you had to leave in a hurry without their company and that you were detained for a time at the home of a friend because of an illness. There must be more to the story than that.” He was regarding her sharply. Elizabeth felt a flutter of panic; this was neither the time nor the place she would have selected to share these facts with her father.

“I shall tell you another time,” she demurred. “I do not wish to bore everyone with such details.”

“Come, come,” her father smiled. “Do tell. I daresay we could all do with a little diversion.” Elizabeth wondered if he suspected Darcy’s role in her misadventures. Her conversation with him the previous day must have piqued his curiosity, but she was uncomfortably aware that it would be difficult to relate the story without giving the impression that Darcy had compromised her reputation.

“Yes, Lizzy, tell us,” Jane said quite innocently. “I would like to hear more of your travels. I am certain they were very interesting.”

Elizabeth realized she could not avoid telling the tale and rapidly reviewed which portions she could relate and which she must omit. Her eyes darted to Darcy and he shrugged slightly as if to say, “Might as well.”

“How did you escape the city?” Her father’s tone was casual, but his eyes were unusually intent. “Did Mrs. Radnor arrange for transportation?”

“Well…she attempted it, but few carriages were available. Everyone was trying to leave Paris at the same time. Nothing was available for hire,” Elizabeth admitted, knowing what was coming next.