Chapter Fourteen
Darcy did not see Elizabeth the next day; knowing it to be the day of the Bingleys’ arrival in Sanditon, he presumed that she would be much occupied in welcoming another sister to Sanditon, and he had no wish to intrude upon what must be a tearfully happy reunion. Instead, he and his cousin and sister occupied themselves with the Knightleys. The friend of his youth provided easy and tranquil companionship, while his bride delighted Georgiana with warm and friendly praise, and teased Richard mercilessly about his intention to woo an heiress over the course of the summer.
As pleasant as this was, the following morning could not keep Darcy and his companions from calling on Elizabeth at the earliest acceptable hour. Lady Parker and Miss Dashwood were with Elizabeth; the ladies were on their way to call upon the Bingleys.
Elizabeth smiled warmly at Darcy as he fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling he had intruded. “You are welcome to walk with us. In fact, we mean to surprise them with a picnic in a couple of hours; Marianne’s excellent Mrs. Jennings is arranging everything. Oh! Georgiana and the colonel must also be invited!”
“They are taking tea with the Knightleys, but I shall certainly send word to them. And if you like, I should be happy to convey you all to the Bingleys’ townhouse in my barouche.”
Elizabeth happily accepted Darcy’s offer and declared that the Knightleys were welcome to attend their picnic as well.
Darcy sent for his carriage and found that he was unusually at ease amongst the ladies, even sharing in their excitement to see the Bingleys and then socialize in a larger group for the afternoon. His comfort lasted until they were on their way in the open barouche, when Miss Dashwood began an interrogation.
“I understand that your courtship is a mere performance, but I must seize the opportunity to practice my skills of inquisition, for surely your attentions, though temporary, must draw her to the notice of other suitors as the summer progresses.”
Darcy shifted in his seat but was reassured by an indulgent smile from Elizabeth. He nodded his agreement to the young lady, who reminded him as much of Georgiana as Elizabeth had predicted. “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”
Miss Dashwood’s line of questioning was an unusual one, which revealed enough of her own character to endear her to Darcy; he felt Elizabeth was happy in her friends and relations, for her stepsister’s inquiries tended more to the quality of his character than his wealth and status.
She asked after his brotherly demeanor toward his sister, his preferences for hosting and attending social occasions, and his fondness for plants, animals, and the glories of nature. Appearing satisfied with these preliminary answers, she inquired about his passions and pursuits.
“What think you of music, of art and literature? Do you attend the theatre? The opera? Concerts in town? What are your favorite poets, composers, playwrights, and painters? On a cozy evening amongst intimate acquaintance, what might you select to read aloud by the fire?”
Darcy answered all of her questions to the ladies’ satisfaction, until he was obliged to admit that he was not in the habit of giving such recitations before a crowd, even a small group of persons well known to him. Miss Dashwood was appalled. “I think it a terrible waste of such an imposing demeanor! Surely any gentleman of such stature and intellect must be a natural orator. Has he never read aloud to you, Lizzy?”
“Not once,” Elizabeth said with mischievous solemnity.
Darcy promised to remedy this terrible deficiency at the earliest opportunity. “As you both seem fond of my dear friend Bingley, who is no great reader, I hope I shall also be forgiven.”
“Mr. Bingley would be quite despondent if I made any quarrel with you in his presence,” Miss Dashwood.
Darcy briefly wondered how Miss Bingley might respond if his present companions were to point out his deficiencies in her presence; fortunately, he was spared her flattery, for she had not accompanied the Bingleys on their journey, and they seemed all the happier for her absence.
Bingley and his charming wife welcomed them warmly when Darcy and the ladies arrived at the elegant townhouse they had rented for the summer. Darcy recalled that Elizabeth had told his sister it was her favorite of the houses along Grand Avenue, and he asked if the Bingleys would give their guests a tour.
“I have never seen the inside before, but I have long admired this house above any other visible from the beach,” Elizabeth exclaimed, linking arms with her elder sister as Bingley led them through the enfilade of rooms on the first floor.
Elizabeth’s excitement proved contagious to the rest of their party as she exclaimed over every charming detail of the parlors and music room, the advantageous view of the sea, the sunlit corridors and cheerfully frescoed walls. The Bingleys were equally pleased with the house, and Sanditon itself.
“I have not been so delighted by a new place since I first travelled to Netherfield! Indeed, I believe I must call this journey even more pleasant, for it has brought joy to my darling wife – and of course we have been promised every imaginable diversion. Breathtaking vistas, culinary wonders, healthful sea-bathing, familial reunions, first-rate society – what marvels await us!” Bingley spread his arms wide as he led his wife and their guests out into the back garden.
Though she could not hope to best her husband’s ebullient effusions, Jane Bingley beamed at her sister. “To see you here, so happy and so valued, shall be the greatest joy, dear Lizzy.”
“Aye, and to see Darcy enjoying himself so well, this is the greatest wonder! You look positively carefree, Darcy!” Bingley clapped him on the shoulder, glancing between Darcy and Elizabeth with a knowing look. “Well, capital!”
“You must prepare yourself for something very shocking,” Elizabeth said to Bingley. “Tomorrow evening at the ball, your friend shall actually scruple to dance.”
Bingley guffawed. “This sea air must be curative indeed! Yes, look how rosy your complexion has grown! Well, Darcy, I hope I shall see you stand up with all the ladies.”
“Certainly those present shall make excellent partners.” Darcy nodded graciously at Lady Parker, Mrs. Bingley and Miss Dashwood. At his side, Darcy could see Elizabeth smile approvingly as he asked for dances from her friend and both of her sisters.
They admired the verdant garden for a quarter hour, ambling along the circuitous path and relishing the tranquil view afforded from the clifftop. At the back of the garden was a small gazebo, and Darcy followed Elizabeth up the three little steps as she stood in the center of the quaint little structure, staring out at the sea and the village that arced along the clifftop. She moved to the edge, leaning on the railing and drawing in a long, slow breath of sea air.
Darcy mirrored her gesture, moving to her side and resting his hands on the freshly painted wooden railing. When he looked over at Elizabeth, there were tears in her eyes. She blushed as he silently offered her his handkerchief.
She dabbed at her eyes, her other hand sliding closer to his as she smiled up at him. “Forgive me – I was overcome by how perfectly happy I am. Jane’s absence has been Sanditon’s only imperfection. I am fond of my other sisters, and Papa and his new wife and son, of course – though I know not what it shall take to persuade them to visit. But to have Jane here, to know that it will cheer my uncle, who is still so forlorn, and to have so many happy events to look forward to…. And is it not exquisitely beautiful?”
Darcy had nearly worked up the nerve to rest his hand atop her own when she raised it in a sweeping gesture at the idyllic landscape before them. He took in the vibrant coastal vista, the air fragrant with the blossoms of the garden and laden with the distant sounds of the seabirds that dipped in the wind over the water. Sunlight glittered on the undulating waves and cast a golden sheen on the colorful pastel edifices along the cliff. Beyond all this, the Tremont Hotel rose above the village like a beacon, as if reminding him where home was. It was where he had met Elizabeth – where he had properly come to know her. And it was all utterly glorious.
“You and Sanditon are one and the same,” he said, feeling his eyes crinkle with affection as his gaze landed back on Elizabeth. “Full of light and energy and warm cheer.”
“My goodness, Mr. Darcy, what a lovely thing to say. I shall cherish that compliment all the more because you do not say it to perform to our usual audience.”
“As I told Miss Dashwood, I seldom give my best performances before an audience.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Tomorrow’s assembly will be just the opportunity to do so. I hope you truly do intend to dance with Charlotte and Marianne and Jane, for I believe gentlemen may be scarce if the guest register at the hotel is any indicator.”
“Of course I shall; I am a man of my word, even if I am no great orator. Besides, it will be an impish sort of delight for me to shock Bingley and Knightley by taking to the floor so often. Like my cousin Richard, they have often wished to see me more sociable and prone to merriment. Our play-acting is the liveliest they have ever seen me.”
“Then I suppose it is an accomplishment of sorts, that I have induced you to such frivolity where they have failed.”
“And it is miraculous that I am so eagerly anticipating an evening of dancing. Do they do anything as scandalous as waltzing here in Sanditon?” Darcy felt the question spill out of his mouth before he could think about it.
“I would only disappoint you if they did, for I do not know the steps. At Longbourn I had my sisters to practice with, but here….”
Darcy spoke softly and extended his hand to her. “Here, I could teach you.”
She placed her bare hand in his, letting out a low gasp as she appeared to recollect that she had stripped off her delicate lace gloves when examining some roses Lady Parker had especially admired. He slowly moved their hands and arms into the correct position, and she stared intently up at him as their position brought their bodies so near.
“This is how we begin,” he whispered, not quite meeting her eye. “I have left enough space between us for you to observe the footwork, but at the assembly I shall hold you closer – that is, I – that is how the dance is done – close.”
“How thrilling,” she said, perhaps a hint of anxiety in her voice.
“You need not be nervous,” he said softly. “The steps are quite simple, you need only relax yourself and follow my lead. I shall start with my right, and you with your left. Three steps in a quarter turn, and then the next step pivots us like so. Now, with your left, three steps again, and then pivot about. And another three, like so.”
Elizabeth’s skirts swirled in a becoming manner that appeared to please her as she gazed downward, watching their feet move in time together. She hummed a tune in triple meter to keep time as she made the steps, less hesitant with every turn. “I feel graceful; I hope I do not look a shambles.”
“That would be impossible,” Darcy breathed, laughing gently as she gained her confidence and began to hum faster. They quickened their movements a little, and he pulled her closer to him. “Can you do it without looking?”
“I think… yes.” Elizabeth tilted her head upward, her lips a perfect o of surprise. Her humming ceased.
It was the first time they had looked at one another since they began dancing, and now they were moving in absolutely magnificent harmony as their eyes locked. And then a wonderful and terrible thing happened to Fitzwilliam Darcy. He was struck by lightning – struck utterly dumbfounded – struck by a most inconvenient and incandescent discovery. He was utterly lost to the love that roared in his heart for the wrong woman – for Elizabeth Bennet.
The best and worst part of it was that he saw all of this reflected back to him in Elizabeth’s shining grey eyes.
He drew her closer, their bodies nearly touching. She stilled, her upturned face inches from his. A few curls had come loose when she had removed her bonnet upon arrival, and they now blew around her face as a warm breeze swirled through the gazebo. Her skirts billowed around his legs and she leaned into him, their hands still entwined.
Darcy peered down at her lips and imagined his arms encircling her. He remembered what it had felt like to carry her in his arms that day in the rain. He had relished the feel of her body, and he longed to do so again. How would she react? The doctor’s elixir had rendered her overly agreeable at Trafalgar House, but she had agreed only to the pretense of courtship. Would she be so agreeable now, or was this but a lark, the ruse an act of friendship – or worse, pity?
It was this disheartening notion that saved him from disaster. Darcy recovered himself and slowly released her, dipping into a bow as he would have done in a ballroom. Had he been obliged to speak, he might have lost all sense of his mission in coming to Sanditon, and even the blackmail that bound him to his purpose; he might have kissed her, claimed her, begged her to end the pretense and return his love in earnest.
But he could not do this, and he was happily recalled to his senses by distant shouting from the beach beyond the edge of the low cliff. Perhaps fifty yards distant, a man on the beach called out to them in indistinguishable outrage. Darcy took a guilty step away from Elizabeth. “I hope that is not your uncle.”
She moved to the end of the gazebo, squinting into the distance as she leaned forward on the railing. “The angle of the light makes it difficult to tell – oh! But it is only Sir Anthony.” She laughed and shook her head. “What a pity it was not Miss de Bourgh! I am sure we made quite a spectacle.”
Darcy had scarcely thought of Anne since nearly being run down in the thoroughfare by Sir Sidney. But Elizabeth was correct, and he ought to hope they would make enough of a spectacle to stir Anne’s envy and break Sir Sidney’s hold on her affections. He certainly hoped it would be soon, for his ruse with Elizabeth had taken a dangerous turn.
“Perhaps we should return to the house; you must be wishing to spend more time with your sister.”
***
Elizabeth removed her arm from Mr. Darcy’s as they entered the parlor, where Colonel Fitzwilliam had joined Mr. Bingley in chatting amiably with Jane and Marianne. As she walked to the part of the room where her companions were seated, she realized they had all positioned themselves with a clear view of the gazebo. Her face burned as she sat with her sisters.
The colonel greeted her warmly. “I should ask how do you do , Miss Bennet, but I can see that your face is flushed from the exercise of walking in the garden.”
“Do not tease her, that is my brotherly prerogative,” Mr. Bingley laughed. “But I shall save it for another time – Miss Lizzy is enjoying the warm weather far too much for me to tease her on so lovely a day. Let us go to the library – there are not many books, but there is brandy!”
“It is half ten in the morning,” Mr. Darcy muttered, but followed his friend and cousin from the room.
Bingley clapped him on the shoulder. “Shall I ask the cook for a piece of toast, too?”
Elizabeth watched him leave, but attempted to conceal that she had done so by feigning an admiration for the wallpaper. “This is a charming house, Jane.”
“Oh, Lizzy, we know you are thinking of Mr. Darcy – forgive me, but I told Jane and Mr. Bingley all about it.” Marianne gave Elizabeth a penitent look.
Beside her, Charlotte gave a playful shrug, as if to say that she would have told Jane if Marianne had not. Charlotte had been quiet and peculiarly observant during their outing, and Elizabeth was sure that her old friend could see right through her. Wild emotions, love and joy and panic, spun in her mind, and at present she was utterly mortified that what she had recently been assiduously denying had suddenly come to pass. Her ruse with Mr. Darcy had begun to feel like something more.
She wished for solitude, time to convince herself that she had only been swept up in the moment, learning to dance so intimately. Instead, her three favorite ladies were staring expectantly at her.
“I should be afraid of being misled by my own sentimental heart, in such an unusual arrangement, but you have always been fond of a lark,” Jane said tactfully. “Are you enjoying the amusement?”
“I am,” Elizabeth said, with what she hoped was a measure of playful nonchalance.
“I thoroughly approve of Mr. Darcy,” Marianne said. “At first I thought him terribly imposing, but he likes poetry and music and Lizzy, which is just what any gentleman ought to do.”
“He likes Lizzy – he considers her a helpful friend – but let us not forget his affections are engaged elsewhere.” Charlotte offered their companions a feeble smile as she looked quizzically at Elizabeth.
Jane frowned and fidgeted with her bracelets. “I rather pity Mr. Darcy. It is true I was shocked that he insulted you the very night I met Charles, but when he visited us last summer, I liked him much better. The poor man has lost his home, which I understand was very grand, and had been in his family for many generations – and then he was jilted by his fiancée! Is it true that she ended the engagement after the fire?”
“I believe so – I am not entirely certain of the timing.” Elizabeth felt her heart sink at the notion that Miss de Bourgh’s defection had been motivated by mercenary intentions. “Her affections certainly appear to be engaged elsewhere.”
“And Sir Sidney – Charlotte, I had thought you liked your brother-in-law well enough to think of him for Lizzy.”
Marianne rested her hand on Jane’s arm, bouncing a little in her seat as if anxious to disparage the man. “Lizzy says he is horrid! And Mrs. Jennings heard that he is always drunk and uncouth, his conduct is often lewd, and that he is a rake and a laughingstock. Just the day before yesterday, Charlotte and I saw him nearly trample poor Lizzy and Mr. Darcy in the street with his reckless driving! Tell her, Charlotte!”
Charlotte gave a heavy sigh. “Jane, he is not at all the man I thought him to be when first I met Sir Thomas. A year ago, I thought him simply a lively fellow, not unlike your excellent Mr. Bingley. I believe he was a better man before his knighthood. Afterward, he fell in with a wild set, racing horses and gambling and – well, enjoying the company of certain sorts of ladies…. And yes, he has grown fond of spirits. I ought to warn you away from him, Marianne.”
Jane wrung her hands. “Is that necessary, if he is courting Miss de Bourgh? Oh dear, and she has thrown over Mr. Darcy for such a man? That must pain him very much. In truth, I think it would be paltry comfort to win her back by means of arousing her jealousy at seeing him happy with another. Would he rather not… simply find that happiness with another?”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and turned away from them, allowing herself a moment to agonize over this very question. She began to wish – and perhaps had secretly desired all along – that Mr. Darcy would see that his wayward lady was no better than the wastrel she had jilted him for, that he would see all that had become so genuine in their performative courtship. Elizabeth wanted Mr. Darcy to choose her.
She gazed out the window at the gazebo and sighed. Charlotte had tried to warn her against this, and Elizabeth had not listened. She had convinced herself that it would be a jape, something to amuse her while she waited for the summer season to begin in earnest – something to take her mind off the pining for Mr. Penny. She was a supreme idiot, for she had once again fallen for a gentleman who had already chosen another.
“Lizzy?”
Shaking away her miserable reverie, Elizabeth offered her sister a smile. “Yes, Jane?”
“What sort of creature is Miss de Bourgh?”
“Can you imagine if Caroline was the granddaughter of an earl?”
It was not Jane’s custom to speak ill of anybody, but her patience with her sister-in-law was strained enough for her to visibly cringe at the thought. Charlotte nodded emphatically. “I believe she brings out the worst in Sir Sidney. Some of her hauteur and unpleasantness might reasonably be blamed on her mother, who is an imperious gorgon only your cousin Collins could ever like. She is fussy and impatient, claims ill health when it suits her whims, and with Sir Sidney she is fawning and forward – she treats most other people with flippancy and contempt.”
Jane sputtered with confusion. “How can that be? Surely Mr. Darcy would not tolerate such behavior in a relation, much less choose that cousin as a bride!”
“If he does not marry her, and she weds Sir Sidney, she shall be my relation ere long!” Charlotte groaned. “But I suppose she must have some redeeming qualities, if Mr. Darcy remains so devoted to her despite her treachery.”
“They have corresponded extensively, and of course they grew up together. He believes that it is Sir Sidney’s influence that has soured her character,” Elizabeth said. She perceived Charlotte’s reaction and swatted at her friend. “ Many couples exchange love letters. But apparently Sir Sidney’s mode of address suits her better, and she is better suited to him. ”
“They are both apparently awful enough to deserve one another,” Marianne said. “And that would leave Mr. Darcy free to marry you, Lizzy! Do not shake your head at me, we all saw you dancing in the gazebo. I was sure he was going to kiss you!”
“Certainly not! The thought never occurred to me,” Elizabeth lied, flustered by the recollection of the moment when she had jubilantly expected the same.
Marianne swatted at her. “How could it not? He is intelligent, cultured, kind, and a very fine dancer. He is our brother-in-law’s trusted friend, and his own sister is fond of you. And he is fearfully handsome! I am sure I hardly knew what I was saying when I first spoke to him.”
Elizabeth was on the point of arguing that she was far too vain to fancy a gentleman who preferred such an inferior creature as Miss de Bourgh, but a fortunate interruption spared her from having to further deceive her sisters and her dearest friend.
***
Bingley’s library was indeed sparsely stocked with books, but more generously supplied with spirits. Darcy abstained, but Richard and Bingley had a small draught of brandy. To Darcy’s astonishment, they managed an entire quarter hour of conversation before the subject of their discourse turned to his recent activities in Sanditon.
Richard relayed the relevant information with a great deal of biased fluff and nonsense that Bingley found vastly entertaining. “Well done, Richard! And so when Darcy refused to act on your advice, you forced his hand after that dramatic scene in the rain? What did Elizabeth do? She must have been a little cross with you.”
“Oh, she has been wonderful,” Richard gloated, raising his glass to Darcy. “She had very gamely agreed to the ruse; from what I hear of her exciting life at the hotel, it is just the sort of shenanigan to capture her fancy, and within minutes of meeting her I could see that she has ample reason to wish some mischief on Anne.”
“And after he insulted her when they met years ago in Meryton! I would have thought her happier to spit in his eye!”
“She does delight in reminding Darcy of his capital offense! Such a lively, witty creature – I would court her myself, in all sincerity – and with much greater gusto – if one of us had enough fortune to make such an alliance practical. Ah, see there – now Darcy shows us how he really feels! That perfected scowl!”
Darcy grimaced as his cousin hooted with laughter and Bingley nodded with a dopey grin. “I have apologized for my words, which she overheard and mocked a great deal, in her charming way. After such a beginning, she has been generous to me and a miracle worker with Georgiana.”
“I ought to have guessed she would be,” Bingley said. “And she is the perfect woman for your little charade, Darcy. She is clever and mischievous, and likes to have her japes and impish amusement. She is too irreverent to be easily cowed by your aunt and cousin, too confident to be dismayed that you prefer another lady, and her heart is not likely to be touched by the romance you pretend at. In nearly two years of our acquaintance, I have never seen her in love.”
Discouraged as he was by Bingley’s certainty in Elizabeth’s indifference, Darcy might easily discredit the dismissal, for he knew what Bingley apparently did not. Elizabeth had been in love before, and it has definitely taken place during the time since Bingley had married her sister.
It could not be said that Elizabeth did not have a romantic heart, knowing what he did, and suspecting that she had confided even more in Mrs. Bevan. But she was also as prone to impudence and mirth as Bingley painted her; indeed, he adored her cheerful vivacity and high spirits. He adored her . But did she see their courtship for no more than the farce they had agreed upon? Or had her sentimental heart once again been touched? Darcy knew he ought to hope for the former, yet his heart ached to know that she returned his inconvenient feelings.
“She is the perfect woman for Darcy, indeed.” Richard grinned at Darcy.
Bingley slapped his knee. “Do you know, I have thought that at least a dozen times since I married Jane! I would hear some amusing anecdote in her letters to Jane and the Bennets, or some expression of her intellectual tastes, and I would think to myself – Darcy ought to have given our Lizzy a chance! What a ponce!”
“What a monumental ponce!” Richard agreed.
Bingley sipped at his drink and then swirled the remainder, thoughtfully turning the glass in his hand. “Say, Darcy, if Miss de Bourgh has thrown you over for this coxcomb, have you considered courting Elizabeth in earnest? You need not think of fortune – Pemberley’s holdings are still doing well, and you have a house in town. The woman who let us this place, Lady Denham, hinted at a willingness to sell, if you wished to remain in Sanditon. You ought to think on it.”
Darcy feared he would think of nothing else for the remainder of his days. But it was impossible when Lady Catherine still wielded the power to destroy Georgiana. He would not sacrifice his sister’s reputation.
“You could be brothers,” Richard cried. “Just what Miss Bingley has always wished for!”
Pity seeped into Bingley’s gaze. “If Miss de Bourgh really prefers this other fellow, even if he is a bit of a lout – well, could your pride even abide such a slight?”
His pride . Darcy nearly choked. His pride had everything and nothing to do with the awful truth, which he dared not admit even to his dearest friend. “I do sincerely believe that Sir Sidney has seduced her mind and made her forget herself. After being confined so long to the tedium of life with Lady Catherine at Rosings Park, she was easily drawn in by the flashy allure of his wild debauchery. She is naive and only wants to be out more in society – and to vex her mother.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, and she will soon grow envious of your courtship and see Sir Sidney for the rake that he is, unlike you, the paragon of righteous virtue.”
It was a paltry defense and Darcy knew it; he was weary from the redundant justification that belied the truth. He had no choice but to win Anne back, whatever his feelings, whatever her flaws.
“But it was your idea, Richard,” Bingley said. “Oh, I see – you merely suggested it so that Darcy would fancy Elizabeth and put aside his attempt to reconcile with your cousin.” Richard only sipped his drink with a smile, and Bingley laughed. “Well, Darcy, I do believe I picked a fine time to come to Sanditon.”