Author's Notes: I've been delighted to see both new readers and old enjoying the story! Please, keep the reviews coming. Also, if you see grammatical errors, please, please, PLEASE, point them out to me. I have been working long and hard on this story to get it right, but I'm only one person with two eyes.
CHAPTER 3:
After a rather pleasant evening of good society, the Bennet sisters took their leave. The ladies bid one-another farewell in the drawing room, and the gentlemen escorted the ladies down to the awaiting coach, as was excepted. Bingley lead the way, Miss Bennet's soft hand secured around his arm, and he took leave to press her hand on his left arm with his right, as they headed toward the night. Mr. Darcy, always one for propriety, stood to see them out as well. Glancing toward Hurst and realizing that the man was fully asleep, Darcy realized he would have to escort Elizabeth out on his arm, or risk his very reputation as a gentlemen. Elizabeth seemed to realize this as well, and squared her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full height.
Sitting next to her husband, Eleanor gently nudged John in the direction of where Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet had just stood. Eyebrows were raised in the most subtle of fashions, eight years of marriage making it so that only the two of them understood the meaning behind each other's expressions. The Admiral had also noticed how fixated of the dark-haired beauty his friend had been, but neither he nor his wife were sure what to make of it. Eleanor was content to observe, ladies are notorious for analyzing and speculating on a gentleman's every gesture, and her imagination was already running wild with ideas. John however, was not so keen on that path, and resolved to ask Darcy directly as soon as he returned indoors.
When the gentlemen rejoined the room, the Netherfield party were content to make themselves comfortable in the drawing room, before retiring to bed. John sat in one of the comfortable armchairs leisurely, his legs propped up on a cushioned foot rest. His wife sat in the chair next to him dozing lightly from the drowsy state wine always put her in. Mr. Hurst was now not only fully asleep, but snoring softly from his much beloved seat. His wife and her unmarried sister, still sat side by side, their conversation hushed from the others. Their host sat in the couch across from them stretched out just as leisurely as his brother did. His friend was once again by the window, looking out toward the night.
"So my dear, what think you of the two Miss Bennets?" John asked with a heavy sigh, patting his wife's hand gently.
"They were delightful, truly delightful," Eleanor yawned, rousing herself. "Miss Bennet was such a sweet young woman, and very rarely have I met a lady as naturally lively and good-humored as her sister."
"She played poorly." Darcy said, not turning around.
Caroline snickered in her seat. "Indeed Mr. Darcy, you are too cruel!"
Eleanor rolled her eyes, "The lady herself said she did not play well, and yet we were all instant upon her embarrassing herself. We behaved more poorly than she played. Perhaps when a young-lady says no, she is not always practicing at modesty."
John laughed heartily, taking his wife's hand in his own and bringing it to his lips to kiss. "I wonder, my darling. What exactly were you doing when you said no to me?"
His wife smiled at him with a knowing look, "A lady must have some secrets, Admiral." She said benignly.
A lull in conversation soon followed, and after a few minutes, Eleanor addressed her twin. "Jane Bennet would be a smart match for you Charles, if you are so inclined."
From his seat, Charles Bingley glanced up sharply, but before he could speak, there was an exclamation from more than one person. "Jane Bennet!" cried several voices, most particularly Caroline and Mr. Darcy.
"Yes." Said Eleanor, pulling herself up in her seat, "Charles and Miss Bennet are quite alike in temperament and in manner, from what I can tell so far. There is no denying that she is a dear, sweet, girl, and very beautiful. I understand that the family is not well off, but my brother is at a place in life where, I may say, he should have no fear that the demands of his pocket book out weigh those of the heart. He needs no woman's dowry to be rich, surly!"
"There can be no denying that Miss Bennet is an attractive and well-bred young woman." Darcy said, finally turning to address the other occupants in the room, "But then, you have not met the mother yet."
Caroline and Louisa laughed, while their sister frowned. John smiled, enjoying the spectacle that was about to commence, while Hurst continued to snore.
Caroline spoke, a vicious smirk on her lips. "She has told us," she drawled slowly, "That one uncle is an attorney in Meryton, and the other is in trade...in Cheapside!"
Charles, who had been watching the banter with wide eyes exclaimed, "I care not if they have enough uncles to fill all Cheapside, it would not make her one jot less agreeable to me!"
"However it significantly decreases the Bennet sisters' chances of marrying well. That is the material point, Charles." Darcy said, his voice steely.
John Alcott grinned impishly at his host. "Charles," he began, taking on the airs of a wise father giving a young son serious instruction, "you can forget wealth my boy, and forget connections and beauty as well. There is only one important quality in a wife, and that is broad hips. You want a wife who will be able to bare your legacy. A small slip of a thing is more likely to die in the child bed. You want a wife who will giver you strong sons to carry on the family name. By all means, marry Jane Bennet…her hips seemed wide and her shoulders strong from what I can tell!" Eleanor blushed at her husband's bold speech, and admonished him accordingly. Although the oldest person in the room, he was often times the least mature adult of her social sphere.
"Good God!" Charles exclaimed, "Do I get no say in what I want in a wife, or who I want that wife to be? I hardly suppose so, you lot all have your own versions of the perfect wife selected for me! I think Jane Bennet quite lovely and beautiful, there can be no denying that. I should not be sorry to know her better. But I am certainly not ready at this time to make an offer to any lady of my acquaintance. We shall leave it at that for now, I would have this debate end!"
"You do not like debating amongst friends Charles and you would have it stop." Darcy said, his tone softening.
"Indeed," Charles replied, "debates of this nature are far too similar to an argument, and arguments I abhor."
There was silence for a long while the company mulled over these thoughts. The silence was finally broken when the Admiral addressed the wealthiest man in the room by saying, "Now Darcy, about Elizabeth Bennet."
At the mention of Elizabeth Bennet's name, the entire atmosphere in the drawing room suddenly changed. While discussing the eldest Miss Bennet's merits, (or lack thereof) the mood had been lethargic and almost humorous, but at the mention of her sister, a thick tension hung in the air. The gentleman addressed stood rigidly, his previously impassive face now seemed very cold. Miss Bingley's eyes flashed, and she leaned forward in her seat, unwilling to miss a single word that was said on the subject. Her elder sister, seated next to her, glanced at the raven-haired woman worriedly, while her husband snored on.
Eleanor also leaned forward from her own spot, intent on catching every turn or phrase and inflection that Mr. Darcy uttered. She was equally as interested in his thoughts as Caroline was, but for completely different reasons. The Admiral seemed amused at the ruckus he was causing with a simple question, while Charles looked relieved to have the pressure off of himself.
"Excuse me?" Darcy finally asked, his voice as stiff as anyone had ever heard it.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" Alcott cried, jovially, "Your eyes certainly followed her this evening!"
"John!" Eleanor exclaimed sharply, sensing her friend's utter mortification. "Leave poor Mr. Darcy be, you are certainly talking nonsense."
Alcott laughed, his smile crossing his face from ear to ear. "Now you listen, old friend, and you listen well," he said, ignoring his wife's cry, "I'd say you admire Miss Eliza Bennet, I say you admire her most acutely!"
Bingley grinned, and his twin hid her smile behind her hand. Darcy and Caroline did not look amused at all. "Excuse the contradiction, Admiral, but I have no particular regard for Miss Bennet." He paused, feeling Caroline's eyes hot on his back. He added, "Or for any young lady of my acquaintance."
With this set down, Caroline's eyes flashed brilliantly with anger, and she leaned back into her seat. Louisa glanced toward her sister, and patted her hand lightly, when she thought no one would notice. John did notice, and laughed again, saying, "You will waste your life, Darcy, doing what society feels it is best. You run your own life, govern your own land. You are master of your own fate. You should feel free to admire any woman who pleases you, go hang what your family would say! They are not your keeper, and neither is the Ton!"
Darcy had been growing more and more angry with the conversation as it progressed, but those words cut him to the core. He was master of his own fate, was he not? Why should he let anyone else's opinions dictate to whom he paid his addresses? Had he been letting his Aunt Catherine and other odious relatives subconsciously guide him in his behavior in Hertfordshire?
Before he could reply, Eleanor spoke, her voice very hard. "I am exhausted. Admiral, it is time to retire." She said, her voice making it clear that this word was final.
With a sardonic bow to the company, the Admiral stood, offered his irate wife his arm, and lead her to their respective bedchambers, knowing that he would have to sleep alone that night.
As soon as the pair quit the room, Caroline let the insults building all day pour off her tongue. "What an insolent and crass man our sister has married!" She said to the room, "Eleanor had many suitors and could have married very well indeed! Our sister Beatrice is wed to a baron in Austria-Hungary!"
Louisa tutted and agreed with her sister, and Charles frowned. "The Admiral is a very decent sort of man, in my opinion." He said, rising in his seat. "He may not be the most genteel person, but he treats me sister very well, and he is her equal in wealth, and her superior in consequence."
Caroline shook her head, disagreeing with her brother. "Mr. Darcy, surely you would wish for you sister to make a better match than that!" She cried, seeking a more verbose ally in her feelings than Louisa.
"I certainly would." He replied loftily, only half listening.
"There, you see Charles?" Caroline crowed, "Mr. Darcy does not think that the crippled old sea-captain is a good enough match for his sister, why should you be content with it!"
"Admiral." Darcy interjected, flatly, turning toward his well loved window once more. "She married a crippled old sea-Admiral."
"Even so," Caroline said dismissively, "his rank has not helped his manners! My sister has been brought down by him as well in the years of their marriage. It vexes me greatly. I should be ashamed of the relation, if we were to appear in a public place together!"
"Quite so, my dear," Louisa said, following Caroline's lead, "he would not know how to behave himself amongst our circle."
"The pair of you are quite beyond me!" Charles cried, standing, "The only thing I want for my sisters is their happiness, and the Admiral has given Eleanor an abundance of happiness in marriage! Anyone can see that, as plain as day."
Caroline rose as well, Louisa following in her wake. "We will have to agree to disagree, Charles." She said, knowing that her efforts to persuade him were in vain. "Goodnight brother, Mr. Darcy." Louisa bid her brother and his friend goodnight as well, pausing only once to glance at her husband with distaste.
When the room was empty save for themselves, Bingley clapped Darcy on the shoulder, "I think it is time that I retired as well. Goodnight, old friend."
Darcy smiled at his companion, and bid him goodnight, but did not yet turn into bed himself. The words of John Alcott and of Charles Bingley were haunting him. He thought of how Alcott had told him to stop living life by other's rules, and to admire women where he pleased, and then thought of how Eleanor had happiness in marriage, despite what some members of her family thought of her choice.
He sighed, and headed up stairs, unsure of what to think, and wondering when he would find rest from his thoughts.
o0o0o0o
That same night when the Bennet sisters returned to Longbourne, they were forbidden from going to bed until they had given their mother a full account of the evening's proceedings. They talked in length of the fine meal they had eaten, and described every garment and accessory that the ladies had worn in full detail. They told of their new acquaintances, the Alcotts, and made sure to remark on how Mr. Bingley had placed his hand above Jane's own when he saw them out. With that happy thought for Mrs. Bennet, the pair were finally able to beg exhaustion and head to bed.
As the sisters prepared for sleep, Jane turned toward Lizzy with a happy smile, "Oh I do like the Alcotts, Lizzy, truly!"
Elizabeth smiled slyly at her older sister. "It is a relief to know that Mr. Bingley has one relation of whom he need not be ashamed!" She said, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
"Oh Lizzy!" Jane laughed, "That is not very kind of you. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst have been very kind and obliging neighbors so far."
"Oh yes, I am sure they have been." Lizzy said, climbing into bed, "Jane you can not convince me to like them, I am simply not as good natured as you! You will have to be satisfied with my keeping my tongue in check when around them, for your sake."
Jane smiled at her sister as she brushed her long, blond hair. "Is that even possible, Lizzy?" She teasingly asked.
Lizzy let out a loud laugh, quickly covering her mouth to stifle it, lest it disturb her sleeping sisters. "You know me too well." She replied, smiling sweetly.
Jane stood, and kissed her sister on the top of her dark curls. "Goodnight Lizzy," she said quietly, going to quit the room.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Bingley!" Elizabeth called after her, as she had just reached the doorframe.
Jane turned to her sister with a reprimand, but could not keep a straight face as she tried to check her best friend. The pair soon broke out in a series of long, girlish giggles, unable to contain their merriment. After a hearty laugh shared between them, Jane finally quit the room, and Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.
Despite the late night, Elizabeth awoke early, and in a splendid mood. The rain had cleared, and it was a bright October morning. The air was still somewhat cool, but the birds chirped happily outside of her window. At breakfast, she listened to the nattering of her mother and her youngest sister, Lydia, without complaint. She smiled and ate, and talked with her father.
As the day grew brighter and warmer, Lizzy soon found that she could not bare to be kept indoors all day. She begged leave to go on a walk, and Mrs. Bennet was not pleased with the idea, "You obstinate girl, in all this mud? You will ruin your petticoat, there can be no doubt about that!" she huffed.
After pleading with her father for a brief moment, permission was granted.
"We will set you as far as Meryton, Lizzy." Kitty, the second youngest offered, as she added a new ribbon to an old bonnet.
"Yes, let's call on Captain Carter before he is dressed!" Lydia cried, "What a shock he will get!" The pair of militia-obsessed sisters giggled mischievously.
A plan was quickly resolved on, and soon after Lizzy found her feet taking her toward Netherfield, of their own accord. There was an overgrown and secluded area of little wilderness to one side of the property that she had played in often as a little girl. This particular spot had been a favorite of herself, Jane, and their good friend, Charlotte Lucas, as a prime spot to escape from the lessons of becoming a lady, and read literature their mothers would not approve of. Many novels, especially romances, were hidden in logs and thickets of grass, as well as a journal that the three friends would take turns writing in.
There was something in the air of that lovely autumn day that had Elizabeth in the mood to reminisce, and when she found herself at the grove, she searched in many logs and under several rocks for their journal. Finally finding it held down firmly by a large stone, underneath a bush, yellowed and deteriorating, she found herself delighted. Opening the book, she began to read, laughing aloud at the inventions they had created together in their youth. Elizabeth made herself comfortable on a patch of wet moss, and leaned against a tree. In those moments that last thing she was expecting was company, but company she had.
Without the distractions of the previous day, Caroline Bingley had been on the hunt for Darcy all morning. Knowing that the only place he could escape her was in the great outdoors, he finally ordered his horse ready and had set out to ride across the country side. With the wet, muddy ground, it had been a vigorous, dirty ride for both himself and his mount. They had been riding for some hours already, and Darcy had been very near to returning to the house when he had decided to take a leisurely ride through the trees on the southernmost end of the estate.
He had set out that morning with the full intent of spending as much of his day alone as possible. The last thing he had expected to see was the object of all his confusion, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, seated on the muddy ground, reading a book. He paused in his seat for a long moment, simply staring at her. The lady in question was so enraptured in her volume that she had not heard his approach. The late morning sunlight that hit her skin gave her a glow that he could not tear his eyes away from her. In that moment, he questioned his sanity for ever describing Miss Elizabeth Bennet as "tolerable". The view in front of his very eyes was the most beautiful one he had ever seen.
Finally, he brought himself to speak. He knew that if he did not, his horse would soon whine and give him away. He did not want to be caught staring. "Good morning, Miss Bennet." he said, trying to sound somewhat congenial.
Elizabeth started at his voice, and rose, embarrassed. She dropped into a curtsy and for a moment when her head was lowered, the spell or the morning glow was gone, and Darcy noticed how her dress was at least six inches deep in mud. When she looked up once more, the spell had only increased. The sunlight lit her face, and her bewitching eyes now held flecks of shimmering gold.
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth replied, her brow arching to cover her embarrassment at being seen by him in so unladylike a moment.
There was a small silence, and then Darcy said, "I did not know that anyone frequented this part of the garden."
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth coldly replied, "this has been one of my favorite spots in Hertfordshire since I was a little girl. If you would like me to vacate the premise of the estate, I will be happy to oblige you, however."
From his seat on the horse, Darcy gave a sweeping bow. "No indeed, Miss Bennet. I am sorry to have invaded your privacy. I will not trespass any longer on your time. Please, feel free to explore the gardens to your heart's content."
Elizabeth nodded, unsure of what to say. Without taking any further leave of her, Darcy slapped his reign, and galloped away. Lizzy frowned at his retreating back, unsure of what to make of their exchange, no longer feeling welcome by the lovely piece of woods, she brushed off her skirt and headed toward home.
Meanwhile, Darcy raced back to Netherfield, but could not out race his thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet. They followed him from the grove into his very room, and stayed with him the rest of the day.
o0o0o0o
A week, and then two passed in which the Alcotts had stayed at Netherfield. After being scolded firmly by his wife, John Alcott did not mention another word of Elizabeth Bennet to his friend Darcy; it was a welcome reprieve to that gentleman, for he could not get the lady out of his head. The time passed quickly. Bingley was sure to call on all the principal inhabitants of the area with his sister and brother-in-law so that they could meet all the neighbors. When Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley finally had their dinner with the officers, the Admiral went along, and they spent a long, loquacious night being regaled with tales of battle from the two most war-hardened gentlemen, the Colonel and the Admiral himself.
Eleanor did her best to spend time with her two sisters and try to heal the breach that time had caused between them. Eleanor had never been particularly close with Caroline, or with Louisa, but they were still her family. For their part, the pair did their best to be pleasing and agreeable with their sister, and she went on all of their social calls with them. Since dining with the two eldest Bennet sisters they had been to call at Longbourne three times, and Eleanor grew more and more delighted with their acquaintance all the time.
The mother was something ridiculous, to be sure, but Eleanor could only imagine what her own mother would have been like, had they been a significantly less wealthy family. The two youngest girls had been in attendance only once, and Eleanor wrote both of them off as being young and silly. She could forgive them that easily. The middle girl, Mary, was awfully dour, but she forgave her that as well. The Bennet Patriarch she had yet to meet.
After two pleasant weeks, the first post for the Alcotts arrived in Hertfordshire. There were several unimportant missives from acquaintances in Bath which could be answered at any time. There was one letter from an odious cousin of John's named Penelope, which was answered hastily and with strong words. The most important note was from Emily Alcott, the wife of John's elder brother.
Andrew and Emily had been married some five years, but had been yet to successfully conceive a child. Two times Emily had believed herself to be with-child, and both times had been false alarms. In the past year, Emily had become dead certain that she was barren, and was attempting to have her sister-in-law send little John to live with her and her husband. Eleanor loved her brother and sister-in-law dearly, and though her son was currently the heir to the vast Alcott estate and all the inheritance, the idea of having her child so far from her was terrifying to Eleanor. He was still very young, and in her opinion, there was still a hope that Emily would conceive and carry a child to term. What was worse was that John agreed with his sister-in-law, and thought that sending his son to live in the estate he would most likely inherit made the most sense.
When the letter arrived, they fought on the topic with more vehemence than they ever had before. The older little John grew, the less likely the Admiral was to back down from his side, and the child would be eight years old in less than a month's time. In Eleanor's little room, which until that morning had only been a place of happy times together, the pair screamed at each other with lusty cries.
"What I will consent to, sir," Eleanor hissed, her blue eyes bright, "is that you leave the raising of your children to their mother!"
"They are my children too, and I will not have you baby my sons for the rest of your life! You will not even allow us to visit with my brother and sister as family, to see how John gets on with them! You have to let him go!" The Admiral thundered, his voice reverberating throughout the room.
Eleanor crossed the small space toward her husband, unshed tears shining in her eyes. "You treat my John as if he is already a full grown man. He is a child, Alcott! I am doing nothing that no ordinary mother would not do! I have so few years with him before he is grown, and you would rob me of them!"
John sighed sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I am not trying to rob you of anything, madam. Soon our son will be in school, then university, and then to tour the continent if there is peace by then. I would have him know my brother and my sister before they have passed on! I would have him know and understand what exactly he is inheriting!"
Eleanor scowled. "You would have him know what you want him to inherit, not what he is!" She cried out, "As long as your brother lives, there is still a chance that he may have a son of his own. You, Andrew, and Emily would all give our son a sense of entitlement to wealth and to an estate that is not rightfully his, and he will resent you for it when he grows older!"
John's face hardened. "It is not my fault that Andrew chose to marry a woman who was already a resigned spinster. Emily is already past her thirtieth year. What possible hope does she have of conceiving?"
"Perhaps not as much as a ripe girl of sixteen, John. But plenty indeed! Just because you were content to bed someone closer to a child's age than a woman's does not mean that a woman of Emily's age is incapable of carrying a child." Eleanor glowered.
John stood sharply, his normally swarthy complexion completely pale with anger. His dark eyes stared widely at his young wife, without a trace of humor. "Ellie…" he began quietly, sounding broken, before trailing off.
Eleanor stared at her husband, amazed at her own words. She was so shocked that she could not bring herself to speak, although millions of thoughts raced through her mind in rapid succession.
After a moment of silence, John sighed heavily. Without giving his pregnant wife a second glance, he turned and quit the room. He stood tall, containing his limp as best he could, despite the fact that he had left his cane leaning against the bed.
His wife watched him go with a heavy heart, but did not know what to say to make him stay.
It was a late October afternoon that the Netherfield party was invited to tea at Longbourne. The sun shone brightly, but the first of the winter's chill was truly upon them, and the company dressed warmly for traveling out. Despite their quarrel, Mr. and Mrs. Alcott both decided to attend, as they had already given their word, and did not want to put Mrs. Bennet out. The ladies of Netherfield road inside the carriage, each with their own hot brick to keep them warm for the short journey. Darcy and Bingley preferred to ride, while John road on the top of the coach next to the driver, unable to ride any longer, but unwilling to be cooped up in a small space with his wife, while they were so angry with one another.
Arriving at Longbourne, they found a pleasant enough party inside. The Bennet family was assembled, nearly to their entirety. The lone gentleman of the house was in attendance, making this the first time Eleanor and John were to make his acquaintance. The two youngest of the Bennet girls were not at home at that moment, but were expected soon with two or three officers to come and take tea with them. The only other guests were with Lady Lucas and her eldest daughter Charlotte, quiet, intelligent, and genteel women.
Greetings, and for those who were still strangers, introductions, went around in their due course. Once the social niceties had been properly followed, the Netherfield party fanned out among the room. Charles took Jane's hand and lead her the corner of the room, in order to have a more quiet conversation with the lady. Darcy found a window, and claimed it has his own, staring out onto the Bennet's garden. Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Mrs. Alcott, made their seats on the sofa, facing Mrs. Bennet's armchair. John Alcott was given a chair from the dining room and a footstool to make himself comfortable, and very soon found himself engaged in a lively conversation with Mr. Bennet.
To her own, and Miss Bingley's dismay, Elizabeth found herself standing near Mr. Darcy for a moment or two, while more chairs were brought into the room to accommodate all of the guests. There was a tension between them that was palpable, and it took all of Eleanor's will-power to not turn around in her seat and stare. Elizabeth felt uneasy in her own drawing room standing next to him, but decided that today, her courage would not fail her. As the others were all engaged in various conversations, she turned to her silent companion and said with a teasing tone:
"Does our garden please you sir?"
Startled from his silent reverie, Darcy's head snapped toward the speaker. Since that sunny morning two weeks previously, his head had been filled with nothing but Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Having been part of the calling party to Longbourne only once since that initial encounter, he had been both anticipating this day, this very moment, but also had grown more and more apprehensive as the event drew near. When they finally arrived at Longbourne, he found himself unable to look at her, into those eyes, without becoming lost. Staring out the window had been his only reprieve. Now she spoke to him and he stared at her once again, drowning in a hazel whirlpool. The power she unknowingly held over him both frightened and enthralled him.
"It is a very fine piece of lawn, Miss Elizabeth." He finally said, his voice the very embodiment of solemnity.
The corners of Lizzy's mouth turned upwards, but she refused to fully smile at the proud, severe, gentleman with whom she conversed. Her opinion of Mr. Darcy had at first been very harsh, but she was beginning to believe that he was more than just a proud man; he was a very odd one, almost like a tragic hero in one of the novels hidden in her grove! "Yes, well, we do our best to keep the yard well-maintained, Mr. Darcy." She replied with only a hint of mischief.
Darcy turned his whole body, so as to fully face her. "Your servants are to be congratulated, Miss Elizabeth." he replied, his own tone lightening somewhat.
Elizabeth raised a sardonic brow at her guest. "I will see to it that my father budgets for an increase in salary in the approaching year." She responded, stifling a laugh.
Suddenly, Mrs. Bennet's voice cut across the room to where they stood. She was talking of the newest gossip with an amused Eleanor, and an ever-annoyed Caroline and Louisa. "And I have had it from Mrs. Lounge, whom had it from her niece, and I am not quite so very sure where she had it from, but we have heard that Colonel Foster is to be married! Oh what a shame for my girls!" Mrs. Bennet was saying.
Hearing the shrill tones, Darcy's eyes once more turned toward the window. Elizabeth flushed, embarrassed by both her mother's volume and the nature of her conversation. Her mercenary tendencies were mortifying enough when in the presence of the family alone, to speak so in front of guests was unacceptable.
Eleanor quickly cut her off, her voice full of delighted interest in these people whom she barely knew. "Shame? How so Mrs. Bennet?"
"Well The good Colonel has two or three thousand a year, and I want all my daughters to make good marriages. Of course, you can't always get what you want, "she said glaring at Mr. Darcy's back, "But sometimes we all receive little blessings." She added, smiling warmly toward Jane and Mr. Bingley.
Caroline did her best to keep her composure but could not help but to say, "Mrs. Bennet, two or three thousand a year isn't making a particularly good match."
"And why is it not?' Mrs. Bennet asked, affronted, "My girls are not so lucky as to have dowries you know."
With those words, Lizzy winced slightly, her eyes drifting towards Mr. Darcy's face. Though his expression remained in its neutral, forever impassive façade, she thought she could discern a slight hardening of the jaw. Though Lizzy tried to convince herself that she did not care what the arrogant Mr. Darcy thought of herself and her family, for whatever reason she was becoming more and more mortified by her mother's conversation.
"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, forcing herself to be very brave, indeed. "since you seem to have such an interest in our gardens, perhaps I can persuade you to escort me in a turn about the lawn, so I can acquaint you with our wildlife more specifically."
There was a brief pause after the invitation had been said where Darcy was completely at a loss as to what he should say in reply. What finally prompted him to speak was the sound of Caroline's voice, inquiring to Mrs. Bennet as to what exactly the Bennet sisters were to inherit. Elizabeth was not the only one who was embarrassed by her party.
"That would be a delight, Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy responded, his voice relieved. "Perhaps we can persuade my friend and your sister to accompany us hence."
The pair was prevailed upon to journey with them out of doors, and were glad to accompany their friends. Miss Lucas volunteered herself to chaperone the party, and Miss Bingley seethed at the thought of Eliza Bennet taking a turn in the lawn on the arm of Mr. Darcy, while her sister Eleanor was delighted with the turn of events.
Mr. Darcy, intent on behaving in a gentlemanly manner, took Miss Elizabeth on his right arm and Miss Lucas on his left. Charlotte was all polite conversation with the wealthy gentleman, and attempted to find a conversation for the trio that would be of neutral ground. They avoided a discussion of Jane and Bingley, who had fallen behind quite considerably.
"Where are your sisters today, Lizzy?" Charlotte asked, when she could think of little else to say on the fineness of the weather that day.
"Lydia and Kitty have gone into Meryton to visit my Aunt Phillips," Lizzy answered, uncomfortable hanging onto Mr. Darcy, "They should be arriving soon to take tea with us. I believe they are bringing some officers with them."
Charlotte laughed, a low, pleasant sound. "Mrs. Bennet will be very happy to host them all comfortably."
There was a long pause as they made their way amongst the various shrubs and dying flowers. Finally Mr. Darcy spoke, saying, "There are some officers I have met who I like more than others."
Although unable to subtly meet Charlotte's eye across the broad-expense of Darcy's chest, Elizabeth was sure that her face must have an equally curious expression as her own. Mr. Darcy was always serious, but his speech in that moment had been positively cold.
Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it of speculations regarding the gentleman's behavior, Elizabeth archly replied, "I suppose that could be said of people anywhere, Mr. Darcy."
Briefly lost in his thoughts, Darcy almost started when he heard her voice. She was in the height of her beauty when out-of-doors, and he found that the afternoon light was just as pleasing to her complexion as the morning sun was. There was a light breeze, and they swept the tendrils at the nape of her neck into the air in the most pleasing fashion. Amongst the shrubbery and the lawn, her eyes sparkled with flecks of a rich creamy green, almost the color of jade. Fascinated, he observed her face and eyes for a long moment, and Elizabeth did her best not squirm under his intense scrutiny.
Turning from him and refusing to look at him directly again, the trio walked companionably for some time, making polite conversation. Between Charlotte Lucas's good sense and good breeding, Elizabeth's lively personality, and Darcy's taciturn nature, they were somehow able to make the time pass between them. Elizabeth was glad to have taken both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy out of hearing distance from her mother for some fifteen minutes at least.
Eventually both propriety and the weather eventually had the group return indoors. Elizabeth was reluctant to leave the crisp autumn air for the stuffy drawing room, but did not protest aloud, knowing she was expected inside. When they returned to the party, Mrs. Bennet was still gossiping happily, although thankfully she had moved from the subject of the Bennet daughters' fortunes.
"Lizzy my dear!" Mrs. Bennet called upon seeing her daughter reenter the room, "I am glad you are come! I have news of John Wilkerson, your very first suitor!"
Lizzy could not help but groan somewhat at the mention of that eager young man's name. His family resided on the same street as her Aunt and Uncle in London, and Elizabeth had stayed with their family many times. Any time she was there, he was a most persistent and earnest caller, despite her rebuffs.
Eleanor laughed at Elizabeth's expression and said, "There are few women, Mrs. Bennet, who care to hear about the first man who attempted to woo them! There are reasons, after all, that he was not the last!"
Elizabeth laughed; a light, tinkling sound. Darcy had returned to his spot by the window, but did not look outside, lest he be teased about the gardens once more. Instead he watched her, staring openly at the back of her head, sure that no one would notice him.
"Your mother's conversation has been most diverting and enlightening, Miss Eliza." Caroline said as the lady made herself comfortable amongst them.
One eyebrow slanted upward across a pale brow at the unspoken insult from Miss Bingley. Lizzy felt a flash of anger within her for a moment, but decided instead to make her look ridiculous. Anger and humiliation were responses that Caroline Bingley would relish in, if she hated her so, but being laughed at was not something the lady-in-question would know how to handle. "Indeed, I imagine that it must have been so, Miss Bingley," Elizabeth said, subtly acknowledging her own mother to be ridiculous to the lady, "Mr. Darcy also had many diverting and enlightening thing to share, himself." She smiled politely, and turned toward her mother in conversation, before the lady addressed could make a proper response.
Inwardly, Darcy laughed. Ever since the arrival of the Alcotts to Hertfordshire, Caroline had been especially vicious and crass. They were always elements of her personality, but when not in London, they were magnified, and when provoked by her sister Eleanor and her husband, they were multiplied. To see Elizabeth's turn of phrase toward Miss Bingley delighted him to no end. A woman of her nature needed to set down from time to time, and seeing a miss-country-nothing do it so deftly was a sight to behold.
Pulled from his thoughts, he heard Mrs. Bennet speaking once more. She was addressing Mrs. Lucas, specifically, although she spoke to the room. "He is a delightful young man, very genteel and good natured. I can not understand Lizzy's reluctance to encourage him!"
Mrs. Lucas smiled, and reassured her friend that there was plenty of time for Miss Eliza to make a good match. It went unspoken that her own daughter's time was up, although they all thought it. Lizzy glanced toward her friend, her eyes sparkling mischievously. Charlotte smiled thinly, bearing the knowledge that she was now a certified spinster with forbearance and a good deal of humor.
"You would be quite lucky to have him, Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet hummed, addressing her daughter, "He wrote such a pretty little sonnet for you too."
Eleanor laughed heartily, thinking of the days before her marriage to the admiral. "Indeed, Miss Bennet, a sonnet? How very refined!"
Lizzy laughed as well, and said with a sigh, "I remember Mr. Wilkerson well, Mama, and I remember the sonnet with greater dread."
From his position behind Miss Elizabeth, Darcy spoke before he even realized what he was doing. "Why would that be Miss Elizabeth?" He asked, his voice as deep and solemn as always, "Poetry is supposed to be the food of love."
All of the women seated in conversation, turned toward him, shocked by his outburst. The look on his own face suggested that he too, was similarly effected.
After a brief moment in which Elizabeth regained her wits, she archly replied, "Can not some food spoil one's appetite?"
Despite the argument they had earlier in the day, Eleanor glanced toward where her husband sat with Mr. Bennet. Their eyes met and an unspoken message went between them. The pair was now positive that there was something worth watching between Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy.
"I will concede to you on that point, Miss Bennet." Darcy replied, "But food as a whole generally does more to please than to revolt."
Elizabeth's brow was raised once more, this time in surprise. Although he always spoke so severely, she was almost positive that the gentleman was teasing her. "If it were admissible to contradict a man of your standing and education Mr. Darcy, I would without hesitation, sir." She responded with a mockery of demureness, "Instead, I can only say this. Do we not all have all different preferences when it comes to our food? A dish you favor may be one that I detest."
The corners of his mouth turned upward only the slightest bit, but everyone looking on noticed and were amazed by it, for various reasons. Caroline was growing more and more livid by the moment, and longing for the time when they could quit the Bennet's parlor and return to Netherfield. Before the gentleman could be questioned or teased further, bright gay voices were heard in the hall.
Lydia and Kitty were returned from their calls in Meryton, and as promised had some officers in tow with them to take tea. Lieutenant Denny was a handsome young man, as well as polite and obliging. All of the Bennet sisters thought well of him, but there was a particular attachment between the gentleman and the two youngest girls. Another gentleman was with them as well, looking very fine in his regimentals. He was unknown to most of the party, but a select few knew him very, very, well.
"Mama!" Lydia screeched, full of delight, "Mama, I would like you to meet Mr. George Wickham. Wickham, this is my mother Mrs. Bennet."
While Lydia and Kitty made gay introductions, seemingly unaware of the tension growing all around them, Lizzy looked between Mr. Darcy and this new officer with increasing alarm. Wickham inclined his head toward Darcy in acknowledgment, and Darcy paled, his eyes flashing with anger. Her eyes darted toward Mrs. Alcott, who had grown very pale indeed, and then towards her husband. The Admiral's swarthy complexion and merry eyes were very hard indeed, although his lips were curled upward into a twisted smile.
After the first introductions went around, Wickham and Denny took their seats. Lydia chatted amiably about the gossip she had learned in town to her mother, while the other paid no mind to her. Everyone in the room was looking between the two men with increasing alarm. Even Jane and Bingley grew quiet in their corner to observe the scene.
Just as the awful silence touched even Lydia's lips, Admiral Alcott took his opportunity to speak. "Wickham!" he cried with false merriment, his face turned into a ferocious caricature of his usual good humor, "I haven't seen you since Ramsgate, by God!"
Lizzy was unsure if the room had actually darkened or if it was her imagination, but she was beginning to grow very afraid of the look on Mr. Darcy's face. She exchanged worried glances with her friend and with her favorite sister, all wondering at what exactly was happening before them.
"No indeed," Mr. Wickham replied, his face flushed.
"Mrs. Alcott and I were there on holiday," the Admiral continued, rising in his seat and taking a threatening step forward, "what business brought you there again…?" he inquired, his tone implying he knew the answer.
Lizzy, ever observant, noticed the way Eleanor's eyes snapped upward, toward Mr. Darcy. His hands were in balled into fists by his sides, his knuckles a very pale white. "Mr. Darcy." Eleanor said sharply, her voice cold and severe, "You look remarkably unwell. We should return to Netherfield with all due haste."
The Netherfield party took note of their friend's distress, and departed with due haste. Mrs. Bennet was becoming increasingly cross with her youngest for bringing such a gentleman into her home to scare Mr. Bingley away from Jane, and could not be comforted for the loss of his company. Ranting about her nerves and how her children were determined that they should all starve in the poor house once their father was cold in his grave, she quit the room and retired to her bedchamber.
Mr. Bennet, evidently amused by the turn of events, inquired to Mr. Wickham as to just what exactly had occurred before them in his house. Wickham, ever smooth, told a well fabricated tale of his troubles to the attentive guests. Mr. Darcy was not thought of well by the company, and after he concluded, was declared to be the very blackest of villains by the ladies present to hear it. There were only three listening who had doubts as to the veracity of Wickham's claims. Jane was quite distressed at the idea of any man behaving so very badly, and was determined that there had been some very grave misunderstanding; Charlotte had too much good sense to believe any story told to her immediately; and after the officers quit the house much later in the afternoon, Mr. Bennet reminded his family that Mr. Darcy may yet turn out to be no more a villain than the average rich man used to getting his own way.
From there the family party moved onto more pretty subjects, such as what they thought of Mr. Bingley's latest relations. When Lydia declared Admiral Alcott's wooden leg to be horrid, Mr. Bennet replied, "Horrid you say? I thought I saw a very fine deal of craftsmanship in the gentleman's apparatus. It was a good quality wood, and very well polished at that."
Laughing, the girls returned to their daily chores. It had been a very interesting and exciting day, and listening to their father go on about the stylish body and practicality of the Admiral's wooden leg was a very good way to end it.