Chapter Eleven #2
Only when it was time to dress for dinner did Darcy escape Miss Bingley’s greedy clutches.
She had applied every possible method of attack.
She praised his sister, made hints about her brother and Lady Rebecca, and even flirted with Sir Walter and Mr. Willoughby in a transparent bid to make Darcy jealous.
Mostly, she just clung to his arm, and he could not even shake her with the aid of his cousins – both of whom clearly found it all vastly entertaining.
After he was dressed, Darcy entered the parlor he shared with his cousin, hoping they might share a brandy. Richard had company; Bingley and Rebecca were within, already drinking with Richard.
“Rebecca, you should not be on the third floor, in the bachelors’ wing.”
“Why not? I should rather damage my reputation than miss out on all the fun; it is boring, always having everything second hand from Richard. I will not be deprived of having my share of the conversation.”
“Pish, let her stay, Darcy.” Bingley grinned and refilled his glass and Rebecca’s. “She is the only one who ever tells me anything interesting. Is it true you are in love with Elizabeth Bennet?”
Rebecca gave an unabashed smile and shrugged her shoulders. “It is too cruel, leaving him in the dark. But I can see you are uneasy, Darcy. Come, have a drink on the balcony with me, for I wish to speak privately with you.”
Mr. Bingley sputtered in indignation as Rebecca rose from his side and came toward Darcy, but Richard waved a hand dismissively. “Let them conspire, if it will help.”
Darcy begrudgingly followed his cousin onto the small private balcony.
She leaned over the stone railing, gazing out at the dark clouds that gathered over the distant sea, a storm that only heightened his sense of unease.
He stood beside her, brandy in hand. “Mind what you say – we might be overheard,” he said softly, for several of the rooms in this wing of the house possessed small, rounded balconies with stone railings and overgrown trellises.
Rebecca did not lower her voice. “You may recall I was assigned the suite directly below this one – and if Miss Bingley hears of your regard for Elizabeth Bennet, her subsequent apoplexy will spare us her company.” She dropped her voice to add, “She said last evening that taking the air would make her hair grow frizzy – you need not worry. I wish to speak candidly.”
Darcy eyed her warily. “Another trick, like your persuading me to come here?”
“No trick like that.” Rebecca chuckled softly. “I like Miss Elizabeth very well already, and I am fond of you, truly – I would not vex you so much if I did not care for you.”
Darcy sipped his brandy; the temptation to confide, to hear a woman’s view had merit – if he could persuade her to be serious. “If you could put aside your evil humor….”
She held up her hands in a defensive, conciliatory gesture.
“I have the very best intentions, Darcy. You love her very much, I think. I can see a hundred ways Elizabeth Bennet might make you happy, and I believe you might suit her well, if you can manage to woo her properly. You want to, do you not?”
Darcy sighed. “She has been cordial to me, but I do not think she desires my addresses. She seems more inclined to seek friendship, rather than any motive our hostesses may have in mind.”
“You believe that a lady that charming would attend a matchmaking party to find friendship?”
“She has befriended you. And Miss Anne Elliot.”
“Well, and ought you not be her friend, if you are to spend your lives together? It is a fine foundation. Your parents liked each other very well, I recall. Mine never did, and look at me – look at Richard – in matters of romance we are both an unfortunate shambles. You have been given a good example, and you ought to follow it.”
Darcy swirled the brandy in his glass and considered this advice before taking another sip. “I was given good principles, yes – but I suppose I was left to follow them in pride and conceit. I have made an utter mess of things – even you could not manage such a disaster.”
Rebecca gave him a sad smile, then reached for his hand. “If you tell me that you love her still, I promise I shall do everything I can to help your cause – with subtlety, of course.”
He closed his eyes and let out a long, weary breath. Elizabeth’s rejection had been a constant torment since their parting. Writing her that horrid letter had brought him no peace, and he knew he could never have managed what he had intended in coming to Richmond Cove.
“I could never have forgotten her and found happiness with someone new. I ought to be glad she is here, for none of the other ladies present are even half her equal. Yes, I love her still. Indeed, I believe I love her more than I ever did, for my every reflection on her refusal has shown me how right she was to take me to task for my behavior. I showed her none of the affection I felt, I did not even show her my true self. I wore my usual mask in Hertfordshire, and thought my station would be enough to win her. A woman like that cares nothing for rank and fortune when compared to character, which makes her heart more worth the winning.”
Rebecca laughed. “She cannot have known you at all, if she thought you and I – well, perhaps it is promising that she seemed a little jealous.”
Darcy considered how Elizabeth had reacted to his mention of Rebecca during their dance. She did seem to think…. He nearly choked on his brandy. “Good Lord.”
“She may require a lively beau – I fear I can only hope to find one who is out of his wits entirely.”
“She gave me the impression that the Gouldings know of… our dealings… to some extent – and that she will not gratify them in whatever their intentions may be.”
“No woman of her intelligence would pass up a chance at true love and happiness for the sake of thwarting some scheming old ladies – if she did, she would not deserve your good opinion, or mine.”
“In truth, I believe the only real impediment is that she is far too good for me, Rebecca.”
“Oh? You are an excellent cousin and brother, a fair and just landlord and employer, and I know you to be capable of recommending yourself better in company than you have done since we arrived.” Rebecca gave him a devilish grin. “Go on, then, tell me what you love about her.”
Darcy did just that. He spoke of how her impudence had initially beguiled him, her fearlessness as well as her wit.
He had even heard her praises sung by Anne Elliot at the ball; she had shown her new friend great compassion, and cleverly rescued her from some painful situation.
Her relations in trade were far from an embarrassment, and her evident affection for them only made him more desperate to be numbered amongst those she loved so dearly.
He went on at length, growing rather mortified at his own sentimentality. Rebecca listened, showing him more tender compassion than she had ever done in their youth – though she looked rather smug about it.
“Well, Darcy, my advice to you is quite simple. You need only to be your true self around her, for I am certain that will make a better impression. Any young lady would be vastly lucky to be so comprehensively adored! It may be against your character to match her high spirits, but if she is as clever as you say, she may comprehend the merits in a character that complements her own. Show her who you are, and how you feel, and she must surely reflect anew upon her own feelings. Now, come, I believe Richard and Bingley are quite clamoring to know what we are about. I demand you inform Richard that I have given you far better advice than he ever has, especially after his idiotic fishwife gossiping in Kent!”
Darcy finished his brandy, then lifted Rebecca’s hand in his, bowing over it with a great rush of emotion. “Thank you, Rebecca, truly. I am sorry I suspected you of mischief.”
“Mischief? Me? What purpose would that possibly serve?” Rebecca threw back her head and laughed as she led him back into the parlor, and it was not long before they all made their way down to dinner.