Darcy’s Duel (The Bennet and Darcy Chronicles: Short Jane Austen Adaptations #2)

Darcy’s Promise Chapter One

DARCY’S PROMISE CHAPTER ONE

Elizabeth Bennet believed herself to be a woman of firm conviction. She prided herself on knowing her own mind, on resisting the vanities and weaknesses that plagued others, on standing her ground when others might falter.

But tonight, as she sat in the dimly lit parlor of Longbourn, her hands folded tightly in her lap, she realized how verylittle power she truly held

"You must accept him, Lizzy. You must.” Her mother’s voice—so often filled with nervous excitement—was quiet now.Too quiet. "You know I would never ask this of you if it were not necessary." Mrs. Bennet’s hands clutched at the handkerchief in her lap, twisting the delicate lace between her fingers. "But Kitty—she does not get better, Elizabeth. She gets worse.”

Elizabeth’s breath hitched.

Kitty had been ill for weeks. At first, they had all assumed it was nothing more than a lingering cold, but her fevers had grown stronger, her breathing weaker. The local physician hadexhausted his knowledgeand quietly suggested that aLondon doctor—an expensive London doctor—was the only hope left.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "But, Mama," she whispered, trying desperately to steady her voice, "surely, there is another way. There must be?—"

"There is none!" Mrs. Bennet snapped, then immediately pressed her lips together, shaking her head as if trying to gather herself. "Do you think I have not considered every option? We cannot afford it, Lizzy. And Mr. Collins—" She inhaled sharply. "Lady Catherine has offered assistance.”

A cold dread curled in Elizabeth’s stomach.

"Assistance?" she echoed.

Mrs. Bennetnodded, her eyes darting toward the ceiling, toward the room whereKitty lay, burning with fever. "Lady Catherine has agreed to cover the expenses if you become engaged to Mr. Collins. She believes it is a worthy investment in her future parson’s wife."

A terrible silence stretched between them.

Elizabeth felt as if she had beenpunched in the chest.

Lady Catherine—who heldunshakable controlover Mr. Collins, who would one day holdunshakable controlover Elizabeth if she married him—was offeringto buy her sister’s life.

For a steep price.

Elizabeth's fingers curled into fists.

She had always known that her future was uncertain, that as daughters without fortune she and her sisters would have to marry well. But she had always believed she would at least be allowed tochoose.

Now, there was no choice at all.

"Very well," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Bennet exhaled sharply, pressing a trembling hand to her lips. "Oh, my dearest girl, you have made the right choice?—"

"Do not," Elizabeth interrupted, her jaw tight, "pretend that I have had any choice at all."

She rose before her mother could respond, turning away before Lizzie had to see the relief on her face.

She did not wait to hear another word.

She needed air.

Elizabeth had always found theMeryton assembliesto be atolerable amusement, a place where she could dance and laugh, delighting in the absurdities of society.

But tonight,nothing felt lighthearted.

She danced. She smiled. She listened as Jane spoke gently in her ear, reassuring her that everything would beall right. Butshe felt nothingexcept the crushing weight ofher own entrapment.

Every time Mr. Collins looked at her—smug in his satisfaction, blissfully unaware of the sacrifice she had made—she had to resist the urge toturn and flee.

"You are remarkably composed," Jane murmured beside her, ever the careful observer.

Elizabeth forced a smile. "Yes, well. If I must marry Mr. Collins, I shall at least enjoy my last evening of freedom."

But before Jane could respond, a hush settled over the room.

It was the kind of silence that followed something—or someone—of great significance.

Elizabeth turned her head just in time to seehimenter.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with aneasy sort of authority, as if he were accustomed tocommanding a room without effort. His dark hair wasneatly styled, his features sharp and striking, but it was hiseyes that caught her first.

He had a ripple effect—small gasps, murmured names, eyes widening. The music continued, the dancers twirled, but the air had shifted, as if a storm had entered.

The dark man had a friend.

Conversation swelled, so many whispered bits of information.

The other wasMr. Bingley, a handsome man with aneasy charm, his smile effortless as he greeted those near him. But it was the man at his side whocaptured Elizabeth’s attention.

Mr. Darcy, apparently.

She did not recognize the name, but it spreadlike wildfire through the assembly, passed from lips to ears in hurried whispers.

"That is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley."

"Ten thousand a year, at least."

"Very grand connections. His mother was a Lady, you know."

"Yet he is unwed."

"A fine figure of a man, certainly."

Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth had never seen him before. Had never even heard his name before tonight.

And yet,something about him unsettled her immediately.

Darcy’s eyes flicked toward her.

Their gazes locked.

Elizabeth’s breath caught.

It wasonly a glance, but it wasenough.

And then—shockingly, impossibly—he began to walk toward her.

Darcy rarely sought out women at an assembly.

And yet, here he was. He approached Lizzie, everyone’s eyes following. She was left with barely a breath in her, mouth completely dry.

He bowed at her front. Charlotte Lucas did the introductions, and he lifted her fingers to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” She dipped in a curtsey. “Welcome to Meryton.”

He nodded. "You are quite unlike anyone I have ever seen, Miss Bennet,"

Elizabeth, her lips twitching at the edges, tilted her head. "That is either a compliment or an insult, sir. I cannot decide which."

"A compliment," he said, softer this time.

"Do you enjoy dancing, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, mischief in her voice.

"I do not," he admitted. "But I would be willing to make an exception, had circumstances been different."

Elizabeth’s smile faltered just a fraction.

For a moment, just a moment, there wassomething else between them.

Somethingunspoken. Something that should not be there at all, not for an engaged woman.

But then, she straightened. Her expression shuttered.

"You are very kind, sir," she said lightly, but there was something in her tone that told him—she hoped—this conversation was over.

“I understand you are to be married?”

She dipped her head. “Yes.”

“Then I should like to get to know you better under those terms perhaps? You know there is more to do at an assembly such as this than simply dance.” He smiled and with that, she decided more time in his company would be just fine, engagement or no.

She paused. “Too true. And there is no harm in a dance, sir. If it is as you say and you would wish.”

Engaged women danced. Married women danced. And since Mr. Collins danced rarely, she would take her opportunities as they came. She knew there were other reasons, that she had a sudden yearning to stay in this man’s presence. He was the most intriguing, the most handsome and certainly the most notable man of her acquaintance. But she also knew she could dance with him and do no harm, that all would seem innocent.

Even though deep deep down all was not completely innocent. Truth told, she was deeply intrigued by him, but nothing could come of it.

His mouth twitched in amusement and then he bowed, deeply, a form of respect for her which she appreciated. “Would you give me the honor of the next two sets then?”

Her smile broadened. “I would be delighted.”

The music began again.

A waltz.

She laughed to herself. Either the universe was conspiring against her or for her. She had yet to guess. But she would not waste her opportunities.

He held out a hand. “Fortuitous.”

“Indeed.”

He led her out onto the floor.

She stepped easily into his arms, one hand out to their side, the other at her back.

Without another word, they began.

She floated across the floor. He led masterfully.

“You are an excellent dancer for one who declares to dislike it.”

“I find my enjoyment of the activity is reliant completely on my partner.”

“And how do you find this set then?”

He stared into her eyes for longer than usual before responding. “I find I am enjoying it above any other of my experience.”

Her breath caught and she stared back into a deeply sincere expression, into soul searching eyes. How could this be happening! How could she be receiving such marked interest from such a man just hours after accepting a loathsome proposal.

Her eyes caught Mr. Collins waving with three fingers from across the room. She looked away as though not noticing. How indeed could she be engaged to such a man when such another who currently held her in his arms existed in the world?

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