Chapter 16
THE HUMBLE MR DARCY
Darcy wondered what to expect as he climbed the steps to the assembly rooms behind Bingley and his sister. Would he at last be able to see Elizabeth, to talk to her…dance with her? Would he be forced to watch her be courted by another man? He knew not whether to hope or fear the evening.
They were late to arrive, mostly because Miss Bingley had tried to the bitter end to persuade them of the delights of a quiet evening at home.
When that failed, she had gone off to be dressed for above an hour and then complained that the carriage was going too fast and making her ill in the stomach.
By the time they arrived, Darcy thought she was fortunate that her brother had not tossed her by the side of the road.
Bingley gave him a significant look over his shoulder, and Darcy immediately knew why. He followed his friend’s gaze.
Elizabeth at last in the same place he was, talking to another young lady. She seemed even prettier than she was the last time Darcy had seen her, and he wondered how it could always be so.
How long must I wait before approaching?
He did not want to seem as if he was charging across the room like a puppy to its mistress.
Bingley had no such reservation, apparently, and quickly strode over to where Miss Bennet sat with her mother.
Darcy watched him go with a smile, and then returned his attentions to Elizabeth.
She was positively enchanting. He knew not if it was the colour of her gown, the warmth of the room, or the anticipation of an enjoyable evening which put the pink in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, but it was captivating.
One almost could not help but wish to be near her, to be considered an intimate of her circle.
He admired her as she made her way around the room, greeting and being greeted, so obviously well-regarded by all whom she met.
Including a young man in country-best attire who appeared to ask her to dance with him. With a start, Darcy realised he ought not to delay further lest he find himself without a dance.
He crossed the room as quickly as he could, given the crowds, to where she stood with two young ladies he believed were the nieces of Mrs Long.
One of them said something to Elizabeth when he was about halfway there, and Elizabeth turned to see him approaching.
She quickly raised her fan and said something to her two companions.
When she lowered it again, her face had hardened, unfortunately, and her gaze had turned very cool.
Her curtsey even seemed begrudging. Well, he had known it would not be easy, had he not?
Happily he remembered the names of the other two without being reminded. Even more happily, they seemed to understand the need for their absence and drifted away soon after the greeting. Elizabeth looked like she might be about to leave him as well, so quickly he said, “It is very good to see you.”
“And you as well, Mr Darcy.” She allowed her eyes to flick towards where Bingley stood beside her sister. “It seems you have compelled your friend to come back to Netherfield.”
Compelled? Darcy gave a slight nod with an even slighter smile. “Bingley and I are both delighted to be back in the neighbourhood.”
A new set began just then, and both she and he watched Bingley lead Miss Bennet into the line.
Elizabeth frowned and sighed. Darcy observed her briefly.
It had not been his plan to lay bare the dispute between them, but perhaps he ought to?
She was not at all pleased to see him and appeared even less pleased to see Bingley and Miss Bennet together.
“It seems as if you disapprove of your sister’s dance partner.”
Elizabeth gave him sidelong glance. “My sister is twenty-three years old and does not require my permission to like a man.”
“I ask only for your opinion on the matter.”
“My opinion is that my sister is too good and too sweet to be subjected to the pain of a capricious man’s fancies.”
Darcy sucked in his breath. “That is not how it is.”
“What else could it be? My sister’s situation, Mr Darcy, has not changed. She is no better a match for your friend now than she was in the autumn.”
“Is that why you think I separated them?”
She rounded on him, ire making her eyes flash in a most beguiling manner. “So you admit it!”
“It would be foolish of me to deny it,” he said calmly. “Fitzwilliam confessed to me that he had spoken to you of it, and I have always believed that a person ought never do anything he would be ashamed to admit to later.”
“If you were less arrogant, less certain that yours was the only opinion that mattered, you would be ashamed,” she retorted. “I beg you would excuse me, sir.”
“I shall not.” Darcy was wondering if it meant something was wrong with him that her evident fury made him want to kiss her with almost unbearable intensity.
“What?”
“I shall not excuse you. I wish to speak to you.”
“I have no wish to speak to you.”
“Please?” He said it with as much contrition as he could.
She drew back, curiosity proving to mollify her anger.
“I beg you.”
She scoffed and raised one brow challengingly. “The proud Mr Darcy begs me?”
“The humble Mr Darcy begs you. Ten minutes is all I ask; then you may go forth and despise me as much as you please.”
She released a heavy breath and looked heavenward for a moment. “I do not have a watch. How shall I know when the promised time has elapsed?”
Silently he reached into the pocket where he kept his own watch, extracted it, and handed it to her. She looked at it, turning it over in her hand and examining it far more closely than he might have imagined she would. “Your father’s?”
“And his father’s before him. Shall we sit?” He indicated some chairs nearby.
She nodded, then they walked the short distance to the chairs. Being that it was early in the evening, most people were still standing and thus did the chairs afford a measure of privacy.
“Your ten minutes begins, sir,” she said after they sat.
“Bingley is not to be held accountable for all that has happened. You know my role in the matter, but you should also know that it was neither fortune nor connexions which induced me. Rather it was a genuine belief that Miss Bennet did not love him.”
“Love?” Elizabeth turned in her chair to look at him. “You want me to believe love, or lack of it, is what drove you to remove him from her?”
“Bingley is my friend. Naturally I want him to be loved by his wife, particularly if it is not a marriage for material gain.”
“Well, it shows what you know. Jane does love your friend. I wish she did not, but she did then and she does still. She has been heartbroken ever since he left in November.”
“May I ask why it is that you are not, then, happier to see them dancing together?”
Elizabeth’s eyes moved to the dancers again, finding her sister and watching her with Bingley until the pattern moved them.
She seemed to be considering his question.
“While I understand there were outside forces conspiring against them, he might have returned to her at any time. You led him away and now have led him back again, and for that I thank you; I am just not sure a man so easily led is truly a man.”
“He has always relied excessively on my judgment, perhaps too much,” Darcy owned.
“That is hardly a recommendation,” she retorted.
“To know why may help you understand the matter a little more. It began while we were at school.” He shifted a little to better see her. “This may surprise you, but Bingley is nothing short of a mathematical genius.”
“He is?” She did not trouble herself to hide her surprise.
Darcy nodded. “He was so far advanced of his peers at school that he was sent up to university very young. I believe he was only fifteen or sixteen—full young and the son of a tradesman. He spoke incessantly of maths, he did not keep a man as the others did, and he was just…eager to be liked. Too eager by half, as my cousin always says. It made the others rather hard on him.”
Thinking of it still made Darcy wince. “There was one night in particular…well, it is not a night that bears describing to a lady, but…I came upon him in a terrible state and brought him back to my lodgings.”
He glanced over to find her intent upon him, her expression rapt and far more sympathetic.
“After that, I helped him as much as I could. I found him a man, made sure he was wearing the right things, encouraged him to be a little less desperate in his attempts to be liked. In the course of it, I found I had more in common with him than I expected, and soon became less an exemplar and more a friend. Nevertheless, you see why my opinions carry more weight than they should. It speaks less to a general defect in his character than to the mode of our friendship.”
“Yes, I see.” She nodded slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I do regret how I judged your sister,” he said. “I surely did not know her well enough to presume to understand her attachment to him.”
“Jane is shy,” Elizabeth said. “It is difficult even for me to know how she feels at times. One thing I do know that she feels—as do I—is that to marry without affection is the most dishonourable thing a woman could do, particularly ladies who—like us—can offer nothing else to a man.”
Emotion swelled in him, too much to know what to do with, but most of all he wished to protest her understanding that she was a lady with nothing to offer a man. “A generous view of things,” was all he could say.
“While we speak of regrets…” She gave him a sort of peeping look, then looked back down at the watch held in her gloved hands, tracing the face of it with her gloved finger. “I owe you an apology as well.”
“Oh?”
“A great deal of my opinion of you has been formed on the basis of Mr Wickham’s tales. I should never have listened to them, but now that I understand what manner of man he is, I am doubly ashamed of myself.”
“I cannot know what he said of me,” Darcy said. His mouth had become sour, as it often did when the word ‘Wickham’ was uttered. “Denied inheritance, I should presume.”
“It would seem you have it in one guess.”
“Wickham’s tune rarely changes. It is wholly untrue.”
“You need not tell me anything of it—it is your own business, of course,” she said quickly. “I only regret that I allowed his tales to prejudice my opinions. I have always believed myself to be discerning of character, but in this case, I seem to have failed grievously.”
“Wickham leaves behind a trail of debt and broken hearts—if not worse—wherever he goes. His lies about me are perhaps the least damaging thing he does.” Darcy debated with himself for a second or two before adding, “No doubt the fact that I was so horrid to you the first time I met you helped his lies seem plausible.”
“Not handsome enough to tempt you,” she said with a laugh, and it seemed her customary cheer had returned, at least in part. “Yes, it certainly did not endear you to me.”
“Allow me to say that nothing could be—”
“Miss Elizabeth, there you are! I had quite despaired of finding you, you know. In fact, I began to believe you meant to abandon me for our dance.”
Unseen by Darcy, another gentleman had come up to them. Darcy knew who he was, though it had been some time since he last saw him. He had not connected him with the gentleman that Mrs Bennet described before but saw the connexion now.
Elizabeth laughed delightedly, as the interloper offered her his hand to assist her to her feet. Darcy rose as well. “And if that was my intention? I suppose you would think I could not own to such a scheme in front of Mr Darcy.”
Sir James smiled broadly. “As lovely as you are, you would hardly wish to appear nefarious, hm? How do you do, Mr Darcy? I am surprised to find you in Hertfordshire.”
“Mr Darcy stays with Mr Bingley at Netherfield,” Elizabeth explained without so much as a glance in his direction.
“Splendid! I only know Bingley a little, but everyone speaks well of him. I am down here with Goddard at Ashworth.”
Ashworth. Was Sir James the reason Elizabeth spent so much time there?
The three chatted politely then, Sir James speaking of his friend’s intention to hold a card party. In the course of it, Elizabeth returned Darcy’s watch to him, and he tucked it back into his pocket.
“We must get to the set,” Sir James told Elizabeth. “Otherwise, we shall have to insert ourselves into the middle of things as they go.”
“Of course.” To Darcy she said only, “Excuse us, sir,” and allowed herself to be led off.
He watched them go and kept his eyes upon them as the dance began, contemplating what he knew of Sir James. His father had died about two years ago, perhaps a bit more. Had a younger brother in the regulars, was wealthy, though not as wealthy as Darcy himself, and amiable. He was well-liked.
It took very little time to ascertain that he admired Elizabeth. Admiration is one thing; intentions are quite another; which one might it be? It had taken him time—too much time—to understand Elizabeth’s true worth, but maybe other men were less stupid than he had been.
He had been slowly walking around the dance floor and paused, hearing Elizabeth’s name. He had gone behind the matrons, and it was Lady Lucas and Mrs Long who spoke, fans hiding their mouths.
“She is going to Ashworth almost daily,” said Mrs Long.
“In my day, we did not chase men all over the county,” said Lady Lucas. “But it seems to be doing the trick.”
“It is not so easy for young ladies these days,” Mrs Long opined. “I see nothing wrong in a lady going after what she wants, and in any case, it speaks well of us all. Our girls here can hold their own against any of these fine ladies in London.”
The two ladies continued speaking, but Darcy had heard enough. He had wondered before, but now he knew for certain: he had a rival.