Chapter Fourteen
Darcy
“I t has been some time, has it not, Mr Darcy?” Caroline Bingley’s voice, light and almost too sweet, reached his ear, as her hand, with a slight but unmistakable pressure, settled upon his arm.
Darcy suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He had hoped for a moment’s peace, but it seemed Caroline would see otherwise. “Indeed, Miss Bingley, it has been. Though, I confess, it does not feel quite as long as it may to some,” he replied with a carefully measured indifference, subtly attempting to disengage from her grasp.
“Oh, I’m certain it hasn’t felt so long to you, Mr Darcy,” Caroline continued with a knowing smile, her tone dipped in sweetened mockery. “You’ve been exceedingly occupied, I hear, if one is to believe the gossip circulating around Town. Quite busy indeed,” she added with a slight, yet unmistakable, arch of her brow.
Darcy stiffened, the words pricking at him more than he would have liked to admit. His gaze swept over the room, seeking a diversion, and it landed on Elizabeth. He saw her glance towards them before quickly looking away, her face unreadable but, to Darcy, far too revealing. His heart sank. Of course, it had to be Elizabeth who witnessed this.
“I did not take you for one who indulges in such salacious rumours, Miss Bingley,” Darcy replied, keeping his voice even and cold. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to my wife.” With that, he wrenched his arm free from her grip, the effort far more satisfying than he cared to admit. His marriage to Elizabeth, born out of necessity, was still a shield he could use when needed, and he intended to do so now.
Caroline, however, was not so easily deterred. She pressed on, her voice dropping to a low, almost confidential tone, “Your wife must have found it quite an adjustment, Mr Darcy. I imagine that mingling with such a different class of people must have its challenges, don’t you think? You must have had to make such sacrifices.”
Darcy’s lips pressed into a thin line. He had never been one to tolerate her insinuations, but now, with Elizabeth so near, he felt the weight of Caroline’s words all the more. “Indeed, my wife—who, if I remind you, is a sister to you by law—has adjusted quite well, I believe,” he said, his voice clipped, his gaze steady as he met Caroline’s eyes. How strange it was that both he and his best friend were now married to Bennet sisters. And how unfortunate that Caroline could not find it in herself to be gracious, even in the face of it.
Caroline’s smile faltered only slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on him. “I suppose anyone would adjust, given the circumstances,” she murmured, her words laced with veiled meaning. “But I daresay your wife must feel the weight of her position. The responsibilities of a man like you, and all that comes with it. Especially with such exceedingly common relatives.”
Darcy’s jaw clenched, but he held his composure. “Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Bingley,” he said, the finality in his tone brooking no argument. “I must go.”
He turned, walking swiftly towards Elizabeth, a silent urgency in his step. As he neared her, he placed his hand gently but firmly at the small of her back, the gesture subtle yet unmistakable—a quiet declaration of their unity. Elizabeth, sensing the shift, tilted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she offered him a small, reassuring smile.
Though Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth had not been born of love, it had become something he would not allow to be undone by Caroline’s subtle barbs or past hopes. He would protect what they had—whatever it took.
Darcy almost immediately regretted his decision to stand with Elizabeth though, when he realised the reason she had averted her gaze was more likely because her youngest sister had entered the room. She was giggling and silly, though fortunately, there was no sign of her condition, thanks to the gown. But of course, Darcy and Elizabeth knew the truth.
Darcy frowned, Lydia was far too loud and familiar with everyone involved and acting like an unmarried lady, rather than someone wed and in the family way.
It wasn’t just unseemly, but it felt almost rude towards Bingley and Jane who had invited her out of courtesy and nothing more. Darcy had a dislike for women who only wanted attention and nothing else, and Lydia fell into that category.
“Was your conversation with Miss Bingley pleasant?” Elizabeth said, pulling him from his thoughts. He didn’t look down at her but was subtly aware of the tension in her body.
“It was hardly a conversation and I would not call any part of it pleasant,” Darcy said coldly but truthfully. He could immediately feel her relax, and that gave him a level of comfort for some reason. He was reluctant to talk about Miss Bingley, so he shifted the topic to the youngest Bennet sister who was currently talking to an officer and laughing uproariously at something he’d said, “Was she always this—” Darcy started, trying to find the polite and proper word as he nodded his chin towards Lydia
“Yes,” Elizabeth interrupted.
“I didn’t finish my sentence,” he said with a smile, looking down at her.
“You do not need to, Mr Darcy. You possess eyes that discern well, and you are a capable judge of moral propriety. I know I likely will agree with whatever word you were going to choose.” Elizabeth sighed.
“I am a good judge of moral propriety?” Darcy asked with a surprised laugh.
“When you’re not clouded by your stubbornness,” she said with a smile.
“Well, I am glad you think so highly of me,” he chuckled. Before they could continue though Elizabeth was practically tackled by Lydia who was squealing and making a fuss.
“Oh! Lizzy!” Lydia said with a beaming smile, walking quickly over to the pair of them.
“Lydia, calm down, please, remember you are a married woman!” Elizabeth said, softly chiding her sister.
“Oh Lizzy, do not spoil my fun. Besides, am I not allowed to be excited to see my sister whom I haven’t seen in a year?” Lydia asked with a giggle.
“Well, you had the chance to—” Elizabeth started.
“Oh you know it was the weather that stopped us,” Lydia said, anticipating that Elizabeth would bring up the fact Lydia missed the wedding. Darcy cleared his throat, wanting to calm or end this interaction before the whole ball was derailed by Lydia. Her eyes went to Darcy, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Lydia, please meet my husband, Mr—”
“Darcy! My dear George has told me so much about you!” Lydia said, standing straight and beaming.
“All good things I assume,” Darcy said sarcastically, knowing there would never be a kind word coming from Wickham about him. It was why he had so far omitted the man from his conversations with Elizabeth.
“Oh, of course,” Lydia said with a giggle, but the knowing glint in her eyes showed she was not being truthful.
“And how have you been feeling? Given your condition,” Elizabeth asked, trying to calm her sister down.
“Oh, Mama told you. Or was it Kitty? Hang them! I wanted to tell you myself. It is true, I am …” she lowered her voice “with child, as they say. It has been perfectly wonderful, George has practically been a saint through the whole thing!” Lydia said at a higher volume than was required.
“I am sure… Say, where is Mr Wickham tonight?” Elizabeth asked pointedly. Darcy raised an eyebrow and looked over towards the door. Elizabeth was right, Wickham had not arrived with Lydia.
“He was dreadfully tired after our long trip, he has gone to the cottage Jane provided and is resting. He is rather enjoying it, as dear Jane has sent three servants to tend to our needs. Can you believe it? Our Jane has a house full of servants and at Longbourn we had to make do with Hill and Frances.” She shook her head, oblivious to the fact that she had no servants at all in the modest home she shared with her husband.
“Anyhow, he must rest for we are travelling to Newcastle tomorrow , though since Mama and Papa are not here, I wonder if perhaps we should travel south to visit them, although I must discuss this with George, seeing how I just found out.” She finally took a breath.
Even if he would rather never see Wickham again Darcy could not help but wonder if Wickham was avoiding the event so he wouldn’t see Darcy.
“I see,” Elizabeth said stiffly, evidently feeling similarly to Darcy. Lydia nodded before glancing around the room and seeing Kitty.
“Kitty! I must see Kitty, it has been too long,” she gasped before running over to see her other sister. Her exclamation had been rather louder than necessary, drawing more than a few eyebrows.
“I do believe your sister will be solely responsible for me losing my hearing before my time,” Darcy said, massaging his ear.
“I would like to reassure you that one gets used to her, but alas I cannot tell a lie,” Elizabeth said with a weary smile. At that moment, Bingley walked over to them both, looking slightly more frazzled than he had at the start of the ball.
“I do say, Mrs Wickham is indeed most spirited!” Bingley said with a half laugh.
“Indeed. But that is not a new character trait,” Elizabeth responded.
“I do well know it, I am rather hoping that she will take rest early,” Bingley said quietly.
“As am I,” Darcy added leading Elizabeth and Bingley away from the crowded area and into a corner of the room that was far away from Lydia and Kitty, and any other wagging tongues.
“Perhaps she will mature once the child is born?” Elizabeth suggested.
“I doubt she will, nothing seems to be capable of stopping her. After all, marriage has not made her behave with any more decency than one might expect,” Darcy muttered.
Darcy wasn’t sure why, but coming face to face with Lydia had awoken in him a desire to confront her, for she was still their main suspect and seeing her acting with such disregard for propriety, vexed him. He wished to question her despite telling Elizabeth not to do so, just the day before.
Glancing up he saw Lydia walking towards the officer she had been talking to earlier. The man looked at her and greeted her with a wide smile, kissing her hand which led to a bout of giggles. They fell into an easy conversation and he could practically hear the flirtation in her voice despite being far away from the conversation. He paused. They were very familiar with one another. Indeed, it was clear they were not strangers for the way she’d greeted him had been very familiar. And the way they spoke now, not like two people who’d just met that evening, but who were known to one another further raised his suspicions.
Was he the man from Meryton? Was that why they were so familiar? It was conjecture, he knew but still… After a moment of watching, he saw Lydia leave the room, and towards a hallway. And then, the man followed!
Darcy’s eyes widened. Wickham had been a member of the militia and Darcy knew that he had many friends in the service. Thus, it was certain that Lydia also knew many of these officers. Was it possible that this man and Lydia were familiar with one another? It would be reckless, of course but then again, booking into a room under a name that wasn’t yours was also reckless. Could this be the man who had assumed his identity that night?
“One moment,” Darcy said, pulling away from the conversation and half running out of the ballroom to follow her. The swish of her gown gave away her general location and he followed.
Darcy knew this house well enough, having visited Bingley a few times, but even so he was not an expert on its layout.
Eventually he found his way to the gardens and he pushed open the doors with such force he was amazed that they didn’t break… Alas, instead of catching Lydia Wickham in a romantic tryst with the officer, he found her conversing with her sister Mary. It occurred to Darcy that until now he had not seen Mary Bennet this evening, but if he remembered correctly, Elizabeth’s middle sister did not like the hustle and bustle of balls so probably preferred to stay on the periphery.
“I just do not know what to do about him…” He heard Lydia say to Mary who was nodding sympathetically. “I am convinced he was not tired at all and only pretending to be fatigued. Indeed, he was perfectly well until about an hour before we arrived here!”
Looking across the lawn towards the ballroom doors that he had seen the officer walk out to get to the garden, he could see the man was already back inside, speaking with another guest. Evidently, he only stepped out for a moment before returning to the ball. Darcy felt himself deflate, frustrated this wasn’t the chance he had been hoping for as he went back inside.
In the ballroom, people had paired up to dance. In the middle were Jane and Bingley, looking the picture of a perfect couple. He scanned the room before his eyes landed on Elizabeth. It seemed there were more men in attendance this night than women eager to dance, and yet she had been relegated to the sidelines… Or perhaps the scandal was affecting even this moment. Pushing his pride aside, he calmly walked next to her.
“Oh, there you are, wherever did you go?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I saw Lydia talking rather animatedly with the officer she was speaking to earlier. It was clear they know one another and then they both exited the ballroom at a pace. I was hoping if I could catch her in the act, I could make her confess to everything,” Darcy huffed.
“And? Did you?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes widening.
“Alas no. She was talking to your sister, Mary,” he muttered.
“I am at once disappointed and glad,” she said and looked out over the ballroom. “I wish I could forget all of this just for a little while.”
“Perhaps that can be arranged. I beg the honour of the next dance?”
Her eyes widened a little as she took in his request.
“Mr Darcy, you should really dance with another young lady,” she said, looking up at him. “It isn’t proper for married men to dance with their wives and rob young ladies of their chance to show off their skills.”
“If you could introduce me to a young woman without a partner, I am sure I could dance with them,” Darcy said. Elizabeth looked around and took his point.
“It would still be unusual,” she protested.
“Not so much when we are at a private ball, I am sure Jane and Bingley would forgive us,” Darcy chuckled. “They are dancing together after all.”
“You do not need to burden yourself Mr Darcy, I know you are not fond of dancing,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“No. But you are. And there are no other male partners available right now. If we are going to continue to be civil, I recognise that on occasion, I will need to make sacrifices,” he said stiffly.
“One dance, and I will not subject you to more,” she chuckled, taking his hand.
As the next set began the pair of them took their positions facing each other. Darcy kept a calm expression on his face, trying not to make himself look more displeased than was necessary, but also not expending the energy it would take to force himself to appear joyous. Soon the music began again and they went through the rhythmic steps together, which took Darcy by surprise. Having never danced with Elizabeth before he had not expected her to be capable of such grace. Of course, that was a foolish assumption, as she was the daughter of a nobleman, no matter how low her family standing was.
They continued, and Darcy was soon finding his expression wasn’t forced, and he was able to almost enjoy himself. Perhaps it was the fact he could now relax after a stressful night, or perhaps, deep down, he knew it was something to do with Elizabeth and the manner in which being close to her caused a calmness to descent upon him.
The pair stepped close together, their eyes meeting, and all of time seemed to hold its breath for one moment. Looking down, for once, he did not see her as a woman from a lower status, or a woman who was involved in the downfall of his life. Instead he was much too focused on her features. Had he ever looked at her for a meaningful period of time before? Had he ever just looked into the eyes of the woman he was bound to? He knew it was not possible for him to have done so in any meaningful way before, because if he had, he would not be so transfixed by her eyes in this moment.
He had never seen such beautiful eyes.