A Fortunate Compromise (Sweet Standalone Pride and Prejudice Variations #6)

Chapter 18

The invitation was duly sent and quickly accepted, though to several of those concerned, time passed rather slowly until the day the meeting was to take place. On that evening, Bingley could be found pacing in front of the hearth in the parlour. “They are late,” he said in dismay. “I do hope the rain will not have made the lane impassable.”

Darcy chuckled under his breath. “I daresay there is nothing that could not be overcome with such a short distance for the Bennet family to travel. Indeed, you could send the footmen out to construct a bridge if it were necessary.”

“Could I? I suppose I could!” Bingley’s face brightened.

“Though I do not imagine it will be required,” Darcy added.

“Charles, do calm yourself,” Miss Bingley said, rolling her eyes.

The only dampener on the evening would be Miss Bingley’s presence. She had returned from London with the Hursts the day prior, only to find that the whole house was in the throes of preparations. Miss Bingley had not been pleased to learn of the dinner to be given for the Bennets. By that time, however, the invitation had been sent and accepted long since, so there was little she could do but complain.

Darcy had been looking forward to the party since he last saw Elizabeth. Yet anticipation was not unmixed with trepidation. He could not help but wonder what sort of impropriety the younger Bennet sisters, and even Elizabeth’s parents, might subject them to that evening.

Darcy concealed a sigh behind his hand, not wishing the others to comment on it. Whatever would be, would be. He was determined to overlook anything short of real misconduct if it meant he could be near Elizabeth.

Their host was much more sanguine. Indeed, he seemed not to have the slightest of apprehensions. Of course, Bingley had barely noticed anything that had been amiss at the Netherfield Ball, besides the incident that had brought Darcy and Elizabeth together.

“I do not understand why you have to hold a party on the second night I am home. It was a very strenuous journey, and I could do with some rest,” Miss Bingley whined.

“By all means, sister, if you are tired, you need not stay. Go to bed and rest, and you will be better in the morning for it.” Bingley pinned his sister with a fierce stare. “I will convey your apologies to the Bennets and I am sure they will understand your absence.”

Miss Bingley’s mouth thinned into a knife-sharp line. “I did not say I was too tired to attend.”

“Delightful! Then I am sure you will be your usual charming self for our guests this evening, and assist me to make them welcome, as a hostess should,” Mr Bingley said.

Darcy had to bite his lower lip to keep from smiling. Bingley had often been steered by his elder sisters, but he could see in the last few weeks and months that he was growing tired of their needling. He was coming into his own as the man of the house, and Darcy was glad of it.

The butler entered through the open door and bowed just as Bingley was overruling his sister. “The Bennets have arrived, sir,” he said.

“Ah, very good. We shall come out and greet them,” Bingley said. “Darcy?”

Darcy did not have to be asked twice. He followed his friend out to the foyer and stood beside him as the Bennet family was welcomed into the house.

“Mr Bennet. Mrs Bennet. How good of you to grace us with your presence this evening,” Mr Bingley said. He shook Mr Bennet’s hand warmly, and Darcy was glad to see that the elder gentleman seemed to be much more at his ease than he had at the Netherfield Ball. Perhaps they were alike in that way. If Mr Bennet, too, detested large crowds, Darcy could hardly blame him. He could only hope this evening would prove less eventful.

“It is an honour to be invited. Thank you, sir,” Mrs Bennet said, her voice friendly and respectful, if rather high and grating. She gave a short laugh. “You are very kind.”

“Please, do come in,” Bingley said. After a veritable army of footmen stepped forward and took their cloaks, the guests filed into the parlour. Darcy waited for Elizabeth and offered her his arm.

“You look well this evening,” Darcy commented. And indeed she did. His betrothed was a picture of loveliness, dressed in a simple green gown with a cream silk ribbon tied about the high waist.

“You flatter me, Mr Darcy. Strange, I thought you were above such notions,” she teased. “Ah well, I will allow it.”

“Is not a fiancé entitled to a little flattery?” Darcy asked, matching her playful mood.

“I suppose you are,” she replied under her breath. She lifted her gaze to his and for a moment, he could not draw breath. She was overwhelmingly beautiful in her simple elegance. He had been entranced by her loveliness on the night of the Netherfield Ball. But this evening, she seemed to shine with an unassuming inner light that made him want her all the more.

“Darcy?” Bingley said, clearing his throat as he stood at the door of the parlour. “Will you and your lovely fiancée join us?”

Darcy shook his head to clear it, gave a short laugh, and led Elizabeth into the parlour. He led her around to a seat on the settee, then stood beside her as the conversation got underway while they waited for dinner to be announced.

“Thank you for inviting us here tonight,” Miss Lydia said, her hands clasped demurely in front of her.

“Yes, thank you,” Miss Kitty chimed in. He looked at them in surprise. Both girls had spoken with simple courtesy and elegance, far from the silly, giggling manner that Darcy had come to expect. It would not have been too much to say that both the younger Miss Bennets sounded downright poised and controlled. Of course, they were still all smiles, but with a gentility that had been lacking in past encounters.

“It is my pleasure,” Mr Bingley said with a broad smile. “Good friends are always welcome at my home.”

“Has the shooting been good of late, Mr Bingley?” Mrs Bennet asked, and the conversation soon turned to that of hunting and all things to do with outdoor sport. Mr Bingley was all too eager to oblige her by answering questions about one of his favourite pastimes. All the while, Miss Bennet hung on his every word, seeming to lean in any time that he spoke. Darcy wondered why he had not seen it before. No doubt her more subtle tells had been overshadowed by her sister’s behaviour, and even that of her mother. Thankfully, the youngest Miss Bennets had found some measure of restraint.

When dinner was announced, Darcy took Elizabeth aside. “If you will forgive me for commenting on the matter, I should like to say that your youngest sisters are very well-behaved this evening, I must say. Their manners are strikingly improved.”

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “Yes, I am afraid I had a bit to do with that.”

“Oh? How so?” he asked, intrigued.

“I told them they would not be allowed to visit me in London after we are married if they do anything to embarrass me.”

Darcy could not help but chuckle. “And that is all that was needed to bring them to heel?” he asked.

“I instructed them a little in what I considered to be good behaviour, and what would be better avoided, but no more than that. My sisters are most eager to experience all that London has to offer,” she whispered. “I hope you do not mind — ”

“Not in the slightest,” Darcy interrupted her. “Quite the contrary. I am very pleased to see such a beneficial change. You have arranged matters marvellously, and to the benefit of your sisters as well as others.” Darcy hardly knew how to compliment Elizabeth’s cleverness and skill in handling her sisters. She had effected a remarkable change. While some might call it underhanded, the results spoke for themselves. Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia would be the better for it if they could rein in their overexuberance, even to a small degree.

Darcy was seated between Miss Mary and Miss Kitty at the dinner table. He could not help but cast longing glances at his fiancée across the table, but he knew it would do him well to get to know the rest of his soon-to-be relations better.

“You are a great proponent of the pianoforte, I think, Miss Mary?” Darcy asked. “I have heard you play several times—first at the Netherfield Ball and on various occasions when I have come to call at Longbourn.”

Miss Mary’s face brightened immediately. “I do love to play, Mr Darcy. I would not say I am a great scholar of the art, but I am trying.”

“Music is a worthy endeavour. My sister Georgiana is also a great lover of music. Tell me, would you be willing to recommend some pieces that I might purchase for her when I am next in London? Being cloistered away at Pemberley is a frustration to her at times, for she practices and perfects a piece almost as soon as I bring it home. And I confess, I am no musician. I would be very grateful if you could steer me toward some recommendations that a young lady would enjoy.”

Miss Mary’s eyes shone. “I would be honoured to give some suggestions, Mr Darcy.” Her smile was more brilliant than he had ever seen it, and for the first time, he could see some resemblance between her and Elizabeth. “Tell me, does your sister ever play two-handed pieces?”

“I am sorry to say she has likely never had the opportunity. But when she arrives for the wedding, I am sure she would be most eager to try a two-handed piece with you, if you will ask her. My sister is sometimes rather retiring among new acquaintances, but when it comes to music, she would be most happy to oblige.”

Miss Mary turned to her father, telling him the good news. When Darcy looked across the table, he saw Elizabeth watching him. She mouthed a silent “thank you” and gave him a stunning smile. His heart lurched, and Darcy wondered if he really could be falling in love with his fiancée.

Miss Mary returned her attention to him a moment later, and she spoke so animatedly throughout the rest of the dinner, asking questions of him and Georgiana, of the estate and their upbringing, that she seemed almost a different person. Without the sour expression and ill-timed remarks that had previously characterised her society, Miss Mary was a very pleasant dining companion. Perhaps all she had needed to bloom was to be paid a bit more attention.

When dinner came to an end, Miss Bingley called for the ladies to join her in the parlour. Darcy and Bingley exchanged a quick glance. Wordlessly, the two friends agreed to take their after-dinner drinks rather quickly and rejoin the ladies as quickly as possible — before Miss Bingley could do too much damage.

Yet the surprises of the evening were not done. As the ladies were walking out, Miss Mary joined Miss Bingley at the door. “Would you grace us with a song or two on the pianoforte, Miss Bingley? I hear that you study with an Italian master in London.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. Here was an improvement indeed. Instead of Miss Mary going straight to the instrument to showcase her skills, she deferred to another. And while Darcy had no particular interest in hearing Miss Bingley on the pianoforte, perhaps Elizabeth might follow her. He hoped it would be so. While Elizabeth might not be a true proficient, she had a natural musicality and expressiveness he had heard equalled only in Georgiana. The short time before they might join the ladies would surely feel long.

Nor was there much satisfaction to be had in their companions, for Mr Hurst had begun an interminable monologue on the superiority of a ragout over a plain dish. Mr Bennet was listening to him and encouraging him with a crooked smile that amply showed his enjoyment in the absurdity, but Darcy had no wish to join the conversation. Thankfully, Mr Hurst’s loud lecture would at least give him the chance to speak without being overheard by the others. He turned instead to Bingley. “The evening is going well, don’t you agree?”

Bingley gave him a broad grin. “I do indeed. And do you not notice a change in the younger miss Bennets? Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty are much improved from the last time they graced this house with their presence.” Bingley took a sip of his port and set it aside.

“I agree,” Darcy said with a nod. He ought to have known that Bingley would have noticed the improvement. His friend chose not to comment on other’s flaws, but he was not oblivious. “And Miss Mary’s disposition seems much improved as well.”

“Indeed. She talked pleasantly through the whole of the meal, no mention of Mr Fordyce’s sermons at all.” Bingley gave a short laugh. “It is night and day to how she was before. I wonder what could be the cause of such a happy shift?”

Darcy preferred not to speak of the threat Elizabeth had enacted. He could only hope that once he and Elizabeth were married, Mr Bennet would guide the younger girls with a firm hand. As to Mary…

“She seemed happy to be spoken to and acknowledged,” Darcy remarked. Could it really have been so easy? “I suppose Miss Mary Bennet is sometimes a little overlooked. It cannot be easy to be the middle child of five daughters.”

“There is something to what you say,” Bingley acknowledged, raising his glass.

“Each of the other girls possesses distinguishing qualities. Miss Bennet is known as the beauty of the county. Miss Elizabeth has a quick wit and charming sense of humour. Miss Lydia is always gay and lively, as is Miss Kitty. But what does Miss Mary have? She seems to be quite neglected, due to her more serious and thoughtful personality.”

Bingley nodded, looking thoughtful. “Poor girl. It cannot be easy, having so large a family. Not to mention such beautiful older sisters.”

At that thought, both gentlemen glanced up at the clock on the mantle to see how many minutes had transpired. Only three.

They would have to wait at least ten to satisfy social etiquette. Darcy cleared his throat and prepared to sacrifice himself on the alter of social duty. “There is something to what you say, Mr Hurst, but do you not find that ragout can begin to feel rather heavy, if it is served too often?”

Mr Hurst snorted in dismissal. “By no means, sir, by no means. You do not do justice to your fine French cooks at Pemberley when you say so. And if made with truffles, they are all the better. I once had a ragout at my club…” Mr Hurst went on for some time about the merits of a sufficiently rich ragout, but Darcy could no longer bring himself to listen. Judging by the gleam of amusement in Mr Bennet’s eyes, at least someone was enjoying the lecture.

As the minute hand ticked over, Bingley tossed back the last of his drink, while Darcy set his down half-full. They went out to rejoin the ladies and saw that Miss Bingley was at the pianoforte. Miss Mary was dutifully listening and watching nearby, no doubt following her hands as they danced over the keys. For all Miss Bingley’s faults, no one could claim lack of skill as a performer was one of them.

As soon as Darcy came through, Elizabeth hurried to meet him. She placed a hand on his arm, ever so lightly. The gesture sent a thrill through his entire body as she leaned close and spoke in an undertone too low to be overheard. “I wanted to thank you for being so attentive to my sister during dinner.”

He smiled and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I was very glad of the chance to get to know her better. To be honest, I was surprised by how pleasant I found our conversation.”

Elizabeth beamed at him, then looked over her shoulder to where her sister sat. “It is quite remarkable. It makes me think that she only needed to be acknowledged, to have her dreams and aspirations listened to.” She turned again to him, her eyes filled with gratitude. And perhaps something more… “I think you, Mr Darcy.”

“You are most welcome,” Darcy replied. He would traverse the Earth for her if only he could see that look in her eyes always.

When Darcy recalled Elizabeth was not the only person in the room, he looked up and saw that they were being watched by Elizabeth’s parents, as well as Miss Lydia. He reluctantly led her over to the hearth, and they settled on the settee beside each other to engage in the conversation.

“Well, Mr Darcy. Have you and Lizzy set a day for the grand affair?” Mrs Bennet asked when they had been seated.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, but instead of seeing hesitation in her eyes, he saw only uncertainty. “Well —”

“It would not do to put it off too long, you know. Already it has been a few weeks since you became engaged,” Mrs Bennet said sweetly. “I have never believed in long engagements. Did you know Lizzy has picked out the material for her gown? It is already under construction.”

This came as a surprise to him. He looked over at his betrothed to see if it were true. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed, and she had turned away in embarrassment.

It was true, then. “I had not been informed, no. But I am pleased to hear of it.”

“Of course, it is not as fine as anything that could have been procured in London,” Mrs Bennet went on. “But if the wedding is to happen soon, I did not think it wise to travel to Town for the material.”

Darcy cleared his throat. “I believe that anything Miss Elizabeth wears will be most becoming.” It would be more accurate to say he was almost indifferent to what she would wear on their wedding day. As long as Elizabeth was pleased, it would be well enough. Beautiful and elegant as she was, it was not her appearance that took his breath away. It was her spirited nature, her quick wit and refined mind that had drawn him over their acquaintance. And it was her fortitude in the current crisis, the integrity and grace with which she carried herself, that had endeared her to him all the more.

Still, he could not claim to be entirely immune to her loveliness. There were those very fine dark eyes, for example. She could not help but relay what she was feeling through every look. Elizabeth glanced up at him then, meeting his gaze with an unwavering resolve. The corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile at the compliment he had paid her. “I hope you will be pleased,” she replied, lowering her voice as the others moved on to another subject, seeming to forget all about him and Elizabeth.

And that was just as well for Darcy, for he felt that he and Elizabeth were the only two people on earth for a moment. It was difficult to resist the urge to lean forward and touch his lips to hers, shocking as it would have been. He found he could not take his eyes from studying her smile.

“A winter wedding has always been my aim,” Bingley said of a sudden. “To be married while the frost is on the trees, blanketing everything in the purest white — it is the perfect time.” He gave a meaningful glance in Jane Bennet’s direction.

“I quite agree,” Mrs Bennet said. “What say you Mr Darcy? The frost will last for at least a few more weeks.”

Darcy cleared his throat. “I would not wish to share a date before I have discussed it with Elizabeth. I am sure you understand, Mrs Bennet.”

“But of course,” Mrs Bennet replied. She looked at her daughter and raised an eyebrow, no doubt alluding to the importance of haste in choosing the day. “As you have a special license, there is no need to worry about having the banns read. But I am sure you will not keep us in suspense for too long, hmm?” No doubt she thought Darcy might change his mind. But Darcy had no intention of doing any such thing. He would only release Elizabeth from the engagement if she asked it of him.

And even then, I would try to dissuade her. Darcy shook his head at his own foolishness and resolved to stop wool-gathering. With an effort, he turned the conversation to works of literature. When Elizabeth and Miss Mary seconded his attempt, the change of topic was soon established, and the conversation continued pleasantly.

When it was time for the Bennets to depart, he walked Elizabeth out to the carriage, handing her in instead of allowing the coachman to assist her. “It was a wonderful evening, Miss Elizabeth.”

“It was indeed. Thank you for arranging it, Mr Darcy,” she smiled.

He let go of her hand reluctantly, standing back to watch the rest of them climb into the crowded carriage and drive away. He flexed his hand, relishing the feel of the tingles running up and down his arm. That simple touch of their hands made him long for so much more.

He could only wonder if she was still averse to the idea of becoming his wife. When the incident had first occurred, there could have been no mistaking her disappointment — even horror — at becoming Mrs Darcy. But tonight — tonight, Elizabeth had seemed quite different. Was he a fool to hope that she might be softening to the idea? Toward him? No matter how they had begun this adventure, they had come to understand each other very well. If his feelings had transformed from fascination to love, might not hers have changed from dislike to esteem?