Chapter Twenty Four
Elizabeth peered up at Mr. Darcy, too stunned to be mortified. “Where did you come from, sir?”
“Derbyshire. I thought you knew this.”
She let out a raspy laugh, distracted enough to take his hand. He hauled her to her feet, and left Lady Rebecca to scramble up on her own. “You have come a long way to my side, then.”
“Lady Blanche and I saw you two, ah, quarreling? She demanded that I intervene.”
“We were not quarreling, Darcy – I was delivering her to you. Well, here she is, and she has something of great import to tell you. And as for you, Lizzy – your kind suggestion – I will do as you do – think about that!” Lady Rebecca brushed some grass off her gown and then smugly strode away.
Elizabeth glanced down at her own messy appearance. “There are grass stains on my gown,” she said with a little groan; she was entirely unprepared to speak to the handsome gentleman before her.
“If you wish to change into something clean, I could walk you back to the house. I would be glad to hear what you have to tell me.”
Her cheeks burned; he was so civil and kind, even after seeing her make a spectacle of herself! “I think I would like to put on a fresh gown.”
She belatedly noticed she was still holding his hand.
She dropped it, and took his arm instead.
They walked in the direction of the house, and he waited patiently for her to speak, until finally she summoned the words.
“I had a letter from Longbourn. Colonel Forster’s regiment will quarter in Brighton all summer – they will arrive the first of June.
My sister Lydia had been invited to travel with them, as Mrs. Forster’s particular friend. ”
He slanted his eyes over to her. “And you feel that is… inadvisable.”
“Knowing what I do about a certain lieutenant, yes. My sister has no dowry to tempt him, but she is exuberant and perhaps too indulged. I do not know if she realizes the danger that her own behavior places her in, for I have no doubt any girl at that age might be susceptible to certain… suggestion.”
“And Wickham is a flatterer, to be sure.” Mr. Darcy nodded somberly. “May I be of any assistance to you?”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. I thought to warn you that Mr. Wickham will be in residence nearby. I feared you would wish to leave the area.” She could not bring herself to admit the rest of it, that she wished to warn him that he may encounter her youngest sister.
“You feared that?” The trace of a smile played over lips. “He has already done the worst he can to me, in more ways than one. He has broken my sister’s spirit, and tainted your opinion of me. What more have I to fear from that man?”
“You do not worry he may work some further mischief upon you?”
He made a droll face at her. “He is terrified of Richard. And naturally, my cousin will call upon his fellow colonel when the regiment arrives, as a matter of form. Besides, we shall all be gone a few days later. No, I worry more for your sister.”
Elizabeth’s mouth opened in surprise. She knew not whether to be touched, or offended. “Perhaps the colonel will keep a sharp eye on him, if your cousin gives him sufficient warning.”
“I will be sure that he does.” Mr. Darcy studied her intently for a moment; confusion and hope all swirled in Elizabeth’s chest. “Miss Elizabeth, is there any other way I can be of assistance to you? If it is in my power to put your mind at ease, I will happily exert myself to do so.”
Her hand tightened around his arm, and she looked away so that her bonnet would shield her face from him as a tear slid down her face.
“I am not confident I can sway my father against the scheme. I would certainly never repeat what you told me of your poor sister, much less put it in writing, but without anything to substantiate my apprehensions, Papa will only tease that I envy my sister Wickham’s attentions. ”
She pressed her lips together, determined to curtail her mortifying admission. Her family had given him ample cause to judge them, but still she could not bear it.
Mr. Darcy allowed her a moment to collect herself, then leaned in to draw her eye back to himself.
“It sounds to me as though you are paying the price for your generous discretion. I appreciate it very much; I knew even after you had railed at me that you would never bring any harm upon my sister’s reputation.
But I cannot allow even the chance of your own sister…
I would spare you the anguish of what peril may befall her. ”
Again Elizabeth turned away as tears spilled down her cheeks. “But what is to be done? You shall not convince my father, either, for he will only laugh at you for attempting it. I fear my family were all in agreement with me before….”
“Before you improved your opinion of me?” Mr. Darcy’s voice choked, and he laid his hand atop hers, which rested in the crook of his arm.
“I hope that it has – I believe it has. We have been friendly enough, and even very merry. I believe you at last think me a good man, and a proper gentleman. I only ask that you let me be one.”
He lifted his hand from hers to gently tip her chin so that she would look at him. Tears streaked her face, and her lip curled upward, more a grimace than a smile. “Elizabeth, will you put your trust in me?”
“I do – I will,” she answered him. His fingers moved along her chin to cup her face, and in his eyes she could see the memory of a time when he had longed to hear those words from her.
They were near enough the house that he ought not touch her so tenderly – if Lady Blanche saw! – but Elizabeth held still for fear he would withdraw. And then she leaned into his soothing touch, brushing her face against his palm. “What will you do?”
“You must leave it to me, dearest Miss Elizabeth.”
Her breath caught in her throat at his endearment, spoken as if he had thought it often.
She slowly brought a hand up to the one that rested on her cheek.
“I fear it is cruel of me to think Lydia capable of what I dare not imagine. After my behavior on Shakespeare Night, I wonder you should wish to call me a friend.”
He gave her a sly look, and leaned in to whisper, "You were a marvel. I have never beheld such pure and catching joy. I was hardly on my best behavior – I… I am sorry if I….”
He dropped his hand but remained standing very close to her.
Elizabeth took a step to close the distance a little more, cutting him off before he could say that he regretted kissing her.
“I did not expect it! I was not prepared, when you kissed me, and I am sure I made a very poor job of it – and now you shall think me very flawed indeed, in that regard – perhaps you shall think it a happy escape that you…”
She was rambling, and she abruptly broke off, her lips parting as she peered up at him.
He smiled down at her in a way she had never seen before, full of wickedness and absolute confidence. “And… are you prepared now?”
Elizabeth was spared a monumental decision in answering him, when Caroline Bingley’s voice rang out.
“Ah, Mr. Darcy, there you are. Good Lord, Miss Elizabeth, you look entirely out of sorts! Off to join the other weeping ladies of the house? Well, no matter. I have not entirely forgiven you, Mr. Darcy, but I am sent to fetch you for Lady Dorothea. She has some questions about what you accomplished in London – so kindly on my behalf – and naturally Charles is making a bumbling job of it!”
Miss Bingley was all cruel triumph as she beckoned to Mr. Darcy. If she was angry at him for her brother’s surprisingly stern response to her situation, she clearly meant to exact her revenge, and she clearly took delight in vexing Elizabeth.
***
The next day, Miss Dashwood’s condition had worsened; she was feverish and ill, and a physician was sent for.
Mrs. Jennings and Captain Benwick remained at her side; the latter was greatly troubled, having lost a woman he loved to a similar ailment, and he was determined that Miss Dashwood should be saved by whatever means necessary.
Lady Rebecca was as amicable with Elizabeth as ever after their absurd display the day before; she teased her friend for attempting to make a match between Captain Benwick and Miss Dashwood.
“You will think of anyone but yourself, dear Lizzy. I wonder what you shall do when you run out of guests to meddle with! You are quite fascinated by distractions, and one day you shall find it all very tedious!”
But boredom was not the order of the day, and Elizabeth occupied herself without thinking more than a dozen times about the moment when she had almost kissed Mr. Darcy.
That evening, a great feast was held in the old Tudor hall to mark the occasion of Queen Charlotte’s birthday.
It was like a great banquet of old, with long tables on two sides of the room, and a table laden with desserts and beverages between the two sets of double doors at the entrance.
The center of the room was left open for performers to delight them while they dined on an opulent twelve-course meal.
The merry party had all donned their finest attire to feast on pheasant, suckling pig, mackerel, mutton, and savory pies.
Wine was served in abundance, and the elaborate pastries were almost too beautiful to eat.
Fire spinners, singers, tumblers, and poets all performed for their amusement as they ate, and a fortune teller made a circuit of the room, prognosticating to everybody in turn.
Given that the mysterious woman in colorful attire predicted a splendid love match in nearly everybody’s future, Elizabeth was prepared to laugh it off when she received the same.
Seated between Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Elizabeth was delighted to hear her friend’s fortune told first. The mystically clad woman matched Lady Rebecca’s look of playful incredulity.
“Worry not, my lady. You will kiss a man before the sun next rises.”