Chapter 9 #2
Elizabeth knew what Miss Bingley was doing, but she would not allow this harpy to degrade her. “My uncle has a home on Gracechurch Street. We visit them often as they are our favorite family members.”
“Do not let Cousin Claude hear that or he will be terribly put out!” said Kitty.
“You are right, Kitty, of course. I should not speak for all of us. I am particularly close to my uncle Gardiner as he is also my godfather, but I am very fond of our cousins as well.”
Caroline was clearly displeased at not achieving her aim and said loudly, “Miss Catherine, would you favor us with a song? The day is so dreary. A little music will be just the thing.”
Kitty smiled and nodded, rising gracefully and moving towards the instrument.
“I shall turn your pages,” said Elizabeth and quickly followed her sister.
“My, she is relentless!” whispered Kitty once they were safely hidden behind the pianoforte.
“I know. Poor Jane. She may have to live with her.”
“Let us hope she lives with Mrs. Hurst.”
There was a slight snort behind them, and they looked at one another, realizing they had forgotten Mr. Darcy’s presence by the window.
“How about this one?” said Elizabeth brightly, holding up a sheet of music, telling Kitty with her eyes not to say anything more in Mr. Darcy’s hearing.
“Wonderful,” replied Kitty, scooting onto the bench.
Kitty played moderately well, and she had a nice enough singing voice. However, the real talent of the Bennet sisters was when they sang together. Their harmonies were of the type only achievable with close relations, and between them all, their range was impressive.
Kitty began playing and Elizabeth stood at her shoulder until it was time for them both to sing, then their voices rose together in synchronicity.
Miss Bingley’s head shot up when she heard them, and Jane smiled proudly while Bingley smiled at Jane.
Elizabeth nudged Kitty, slanting her eyes to Miss Bingley’s angry expression, and they continued with gusto.
Elizabeth only smiled brighter when she noticed Mr. Bingley leading Jane out the side door without saying a word to anybody.
The storm continued into the evening and it was decided the Bennet sisters would have to stay the night at Netherfield.
A note was dispatched to Longbourn and they retired upstairs to dress for dinner in more borrowed clothes.
Elizabeth went to the library first to find a book and told Kitty she would meet her upstairs.
Jane was still off somewhere with Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Darcy finally decided to step away from his beloved window and when Elizabeth stepped into the hall near the stairs, he was waiting for her.
“Good evening, Mr. Darcy.” She was still disconcerted from her earlier thoughts of him and his possible attraction to her.
She could not make him out; they had never spoken much, though she did often find him looking at her.
But they had never had a full conversation, and she could not say she truly knew him, let alone what he thought of her.
“Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy bowed his head and looked at her expectantly.
She waited, and when he said nothing more, she held up the book in her hand. “I was just borrowing a book from Mr. Bingley’s library.”
“Did you find anything of interest? It is woefully understocked.”
“There was not a great selection, but I found something to read.”
He looked at the title in her hand, surprised to see it was in French. “You read in French?”
“As you see.”
“I did not know you spoke French.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Ladies can be educated properly, even in a backwater like Meryton. Good evening, sir.”
She turned to go and Darcy rushed to stop her.
“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I meant no offense.”
“You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy, though I do not see what is so surprising about a gentlewoman being able to read in French. It is 1811, you know. Not the 1500s.”
“Of course. The fault is entirely mine. I was not thinking.”
She nodded, wondering why he constantly insulted her when he seemed perfectly polite, if not pleasant, with everyone else. He was even cordial to Miss Bingley! Thinking there was nothing to add to the conversation, she said, “I will go upstairs now.”
As Elizabeth turned away from him and made her way to the stairs, Darcy followed her with his eyes. Something flashed on her back, above the hem of her gown. He looked closer, his eyes squinting, and unthinkingly moved closer. It was a mark! On the left side of her back, beneath her gown.
So excited was he at the knowledge she was marked that he reached out without thinking and touched the edge of her gown.
Elizabeth spun around to face him. “Mr. Darcy!”
He spluttered.
“I don’t know how you do things in Derbyshire, but here, gentlemen do not put their hands on a lady’s person uninvited!”
Darcy flushed. What had he been thinking? He had not been thinking, of course. He said the first thing that came to mind. “You have a soul mark!”
“Yes?” She looked at him in confusion. “It is common knowledge I have a mark, Mr. Darcy, as I have had it since I was thirteen.”
“So you had a marking ceremony? You were not marked before?”
Elizabeth bristled. “That is correct.”
“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I meant no disrespect. It is just that, I was under the impression that you and your sister Miss Mary were not marked.”
“Mary is not marked, but that was her decision. My other sisters and I are marked. Does that clear it up for you, Mr. Darcy?”
He felt his ears burning under her glare. “Yes, quite. Forgive my clumsiness, Miss Elizabeth.”
She softened a little at his apology and his obvious embarrassment.
“It is forgotten, Mr. Darcy.”
They watched each other in silence for a moment. He looked like he wished to say something, but he did not, so she finally asked, “Why were you grabbing me, anyhow?”
“I wished to see your mark.” He closed his eyes in mortification. Would he never stop saying the wrong thing to this woman?
Her lip quirked slightly. “Why do you want to see it?”
To know if it is a match to mine, he wanted to say, but for once, he maintained control of his tongue.
“I was curious. Forgive me. My actions were unpardonable.”
“I can understand curiosity, Mr. Darcy. It has gotten me into trouble more times than I care to count.”
He smiled ruefully at her and it was her turn to flush. Must this man be so attractive?
She watched him for a moment, then said steadily, as if imparting significant information, “It is a large mark, the largest most have ever seen or heard of.”
“Oh?” He remarked, pleased she was confiding in him.
She raised a brow. “Yes. And intricate, too.”
“Intricate? In what way?”
“That is enough for now, Mr. Darcy. Let us speak no more about what is under my gown.”
She turned and walked up the stairs, her hips swaying temptingly with each step.
Darcy watched her go with a smile, desperately hoping her middle initial was R. Heaven help me.
Elizabeth fell back against the bedroom door and fanned her face. What had she been thinking, taunting Mr. Darcy like that? She did not say such things to people—to gentlemen! What had come over her?
But oh, it had been fun! Wickedly fun, and delicious, and dangerous, and oh so daring.
She should not have done it, but she could not wait to taunt Mr. Darcy again.
“Lizzy, where have you been?” asked Kitty.
“Just getting a book from the library.”
“Have you seen Jane? She has been gone with Mr. Bingley an awful long time. Should we go and find her?”
“I think Mr. Bingley may be coming to the point at last,” said Elizabeth. “Let us leave them alone a little longer.”
When a couple found they were marked, things did not progress in the usual way.
It was often decided they would marry eventually, as it had been done with Jane and Bingley, before the gentleman had a chance to propose properly.
The engagements would be a little longer than usual, and when they felt they were ready, the gentleman would offer an amended proposal.
Having never received one, Elizabeth thought it would be something like “Are you ready, dearest?” but she could not know for certain.
She only hoped that wherever she was, Jane was enjoying her time with Mr. Bingley.
Jane was overwhelmed. Mr. Bingley had kissed every inch of her face and neck, and he was currently nuzzling his nose in the fichu she had painstakingly donned to preserve her modesty.
She ran her fingers through his hair, encouraging him closer, so overcome with feeling that she did not even stop to wonder at her actions.
He was her soulmate. He would be her husband. There could be no wrong between them.
“Dearest Jane, my sweet darling,” he murmured.
“Charles.” Her voice was breathy and quiet, driving the man beside her more than a little mad.
“Jane, marry me, my darling. Marry me soon. I want you with me always.”
She could not think for the way his hands were roaming over her gown, stroking down her hip and over the bare skin of her arms.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He continued kissing her for a few moments before he lifted his head and stared at her. “Did you say yes?”
“Yes.”
“You will marry me soon? Not in three months or six months, but soon?”
“Yes.” She smiled beatifically at him and Bingley let out a great whoop.
Jane laughed at his exuberance.
“I am the happiest man in England!”
She smiled as he straightened her fichu, then looked guiltily at her hair. “I am afraid I do not know how to fix that.”
She felt her head and realized several locks of her hair had come undone from their pins. “Charles! How will I leave this room? Everyone will know what we have been up to.”
He grinned at her wickedly and leaned forward until he could trail kisses up her neck and along her jaw. “You could simply not leave this room,” he whispered. “We could marry this week.”
She breathed heavily, trying to think straight. “As lovely as that sounds, I do not wish for a cloud over my wedding.” She gently pressed her hands against his shoulders, easing him away from her. “I should go.”
Bingley sighed. “You are right. There is a mirror in the corner if you wish to repair your hair.”
Jane put herself to rights in a few minutes, then Bingley peeked out the door to make sure the corridor was empty. “The way is clear.”
She bustled past him, stopping and turning back to give him a quick kiss and a bright smile, then rushed up the stairs, leaving Bingley staring after her with a stupid grin on his face.