Chapter Fourteen
Mr Darcy and his valet stood looking at each other for several moments but Sampson could tell his master's mind was no longer in the room. All of a sudden, Darcy snapped out of the waking nightmare he had been experiencing and stalked over to the brandy decanter. He did not even bother to pour it out into a tumbler, he simply lifted the crystal bottle by the neck, raised it to his lips and took three large gulps.
The vision that had so vividly danced through his head was not of a life trapped in a marriage to Caroline Bingley, but of the consequences his rejection of her could have on his chances at winning Elizabeth's hand. He had previously thought passingly about how pleasant it would be to always have her with him, had not corrected Richard when he spoke of the matter, but until that moment had not been able to admit to himself the full truth of the situation. Elizabeth was the only one he could picture a long and happy life with, the only woman he could see himself married to.
How would she react though, if he were perceived to be responsible for the ruin of another young lady? His Elizabeth was kind and generous, even to those who did not always deserve such treatment. For goodness sakes, he had not actually realised she disliked him at first as she delivered her set downs with grace and a smile. Would she understand? If Miss Bingley did in fact attempt to compromise him that evening, would Elizabeth forgive him when he failed to step up and secure her reputation?
Still holding the decanter, and continuing to forgo a glass, Darcy leant back against the desk and indicated for his man to tell him what he knew.
"Some of the footmen have been comparing notes on the mistress of house's odd behaviour this evening. One of them had heard it from a maid that Miss Bingley looked to be jamming something into the library door lock shortly after the dancing had begun. Another, the one who delivered you my note, Jacobs, he was instructed to inform you that an express had arrived and been placed in the library for you.
"Jacobs was the one who brought this to my attention, sir. He thought it sounded suspicious, especially as no one could confirm that a rider had arrived. I have briefly inspected the door and it has been tampered with as the maid claimed. Unfortunately, I have not been able to verify if the letter is real or if I recognise the hand of the person who wrote it. Miss Bingley had already entered the library before I had the opportunity.
"Damned woman!" Darcy cursed under his breath before taking another swallow of drink. "I need to speak with Bingley."
"Of course, sir." Sampson replied then quickly exited the room.
By the time Bingley arrived a few minutes later, the decanter had been abandoned on the desk and Darcy was pacing in front of the fire.
"You look dreadful, my friend. What is the matter? Your man would not tell me a thing." Bingley said by way of greeting.
With equally matched bluntness, Darcy responded, "You recall my conditions before agreeing to join you in Hertfordshire, do you not?"
"I suppose I do, you asked not to be left alone with my sisters." Bingley could see the fury on his friend's face and realised he must have failed at the task something awful. "I know I have been negligent with preventing such, especially when Miss Bennet has been present, but I shall try harder. I swear it."
"The other condition, Bingley. The part where you agreed that no matter what happened here, I would not be required to marry your sister."
"Oh, Lord. What has she done? Is she alright? Are you alright?" Bingley looked around the room in panic as if expecting his unmanageable sister to materialise.
"It has not transpired, thankfully." Darcy all but spat the words out. "Sampson alerted me to the danger, though your sister is lying in wait for me in the library as we speak."
Bingley looked at the door which connected his study to his oft forgotten library, but a hand reached out to stop him before he could make a move towards it.
"Think carefully before you confront her, Bingley. I have not even told you her plan, though she will deny it, I am sure. You must know what you intend to say before you go in there. I already know how I will respond to her, but I do not have to live with her."
Bingley did not wait for further information but, with the warning ringing in his ears, led the way through the adjoining door and into the library. He did not need an explanation; he trusted his friend far more than his sister.
Caroline had positioned herself on a sofa close to but out of the immediate eye line of anyone entering the library. When she herself had entered, she had closed the door to, leaving it open just a fraction so that the lock she had just compromised would only prevent her target from leaving rather than entering the room.
As she waited for Mr Darcy to arrive, she decided to make her appearance more enticing, so she shimmied the neckline of her dress lower and pushed down the shoulders. It was entirely indecent and she would have to fix it quickly once she had been seen by the imminently arriving Charles and Sir William. Originally, Caroline was only going to have her brother discover them, but she was not certain that he would not be persuaded by Mr Darcy to pretend the event had not happened. Therefore she conspired to have her sister request the presence of both gentleman, at the supposed behest of Mr Hurst, in the library a quarter of an hour hence. By which time, Darcy should have arrived, the door locking behind him, and their discovery and compromise revealed.
Just as she was beginning to get frustrated with her longer than anticipated wait, and resolving to dismiss from service the footman she had tasked with delivering the message, Caroline was startled by the opening of a door – although it was not the door she was expecting to open (and until that moment had not known existed). Miss Bingley, who very rarely ventured into any library, was unaware of the connecting door which joined the room she was occupying with the study, or of who could be coming through it.
Mr Darcy's impending appearance through a different door would be for nothing if they were not truly alone and trapped together, he would be able to leave before witnesses arrived. She desperately hoped whoever was there would leave quickly so she could jam that door before her target arrived.
"Caroline? Are you in here?" She cringed at the sound of her brother's voice. She knew she could not easily send him on his way or plausibly explain why she was hiding in a room she rarely entered during her own ball. As quickly as she could she fixed the top of her dress and went in the direction of her brother's voice. She was dismayed to find Mr Darcy also present – her goal for the evening slipped away from her almost instantly.
"Hello, Mr Darcy, Brother." She said as she greeted them both with as much sweetness as she could muster – which was still not very much at all.
"I was hoping it would not be true. Oh, what am I to do with you Caroline?" Bingley muttered to himself as he turned on the spot and rand his hands through his floppy fair hair. Even in the dim lighting Darcy could see Miss Bingley's complexion pale.
"You have lost me, brother. What has you in so fraught a state?"
"I told you before we came here to put ideas of Pemberley out of your mind. Yet here you are, looking to ruin yourself in pursuit of that very thing."
"Ruin myself? Charles you entirely misunderstand!" Miss Bingley cried, panic rising in her voice. "I simply slipped away from our wearisome neighbours – they can be so tedious and I required a few moments sanctuary. That is all. There is nothing ruinous in that. Nothing suspect." She added with a hint of desperation.
Whilst neither gentleman could doubt the lady's poor opinion of her neighbours, they also both found it highly unlikely that Miss Bingley would consider a dark, musty library to be her ideal sanctuary.
Deciding to put a swift end to the potentially endless back and forth between the siblings, Darcy asked, "I was told a letter had arrived for me, have you happened to see it, Miss Bingley?"
Even as she replied in the negative, her eyes betrayed her when they flickered to a side table near a curtained window. He was surprised is existed, maybe Miss Bingley was an opportunist rather than a schemer. As he picked it up and turned it over several times in his hands, Darcy inspected the handwriting, the seal and the paper quality. The latter two were too generic to give clues as to the author's identity, but the handwriting was more helpful.
It was clear that it belonged to a woman, but he did not recognise it as one of his relatives – the only women who would have been permitted to correspond with him without risk of reputational damage. He now suspected Miss Bingley had written it herself, or at the very least gotten her sister to. Without a word he handed the still sealed envelope to his friend, who confirmed his suspicions with the thunderous look he shot his sister.
Darcy saw his friend take a large intake of breath as he prepared to tell Miss Bingley just how foolish she had been, but he once more raised a hand to stall him. Turning to Miss Bingley himself he said, "Madam, I do not know what game you think you are playing but you shall not succeed. The unfortunate truth is that my reputation shall survive whatever plan you try to bring about, but yours may not."
Caroline felt sick. She had always understood that Mr Darcy would be a difficult man to catch but he was also widely accepted as a principled man. She had not expected him to be as blunt and cruel as to deny out right the possibility of assisting her with an honourable marriage. She tried to find the words to say in response but was, for once, lost for them.
When Miss Bingley did not respond, Darcy continued, "It appears your brothers warning failed to hit its mark, but hear mine. There is no rule or law that states I must be the one to rescue you and your reputation from a situation that I was not a knowing or willing participant in, Miss Bingley. There is no way to say this tactfully, and for that I am sorry, but I will never ask for your hand in marriage. No matter the circumstances, you will not become my wife." Darcy felt a twinge of guilt for his frankness when he saw the tears pooling in Miss Bingley's eyes but he did not try to soften or mitigate his message with additional explanation.
Before any further words could be exchanged, Sir William Lucas flung open the door and walked gaily into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. Miss Bingley recoiled at the sound of the lock clicking into place; something the latest arrival did not catch, but the other two gentlemen in the room saw plainly.
"Ah, Mr Bingley! There you are. I was told by Mrs Hurst that her husband wished to speak with us both here in the library, though she could not find you. I suppose you had already received the message and came here ahead of me." Looking around Sir William failed to pick up on the tension in the room and cheerfully continued with barely a pause for breath, "Mr Darcy are you to join us also? Miss Bingley what a charming ball you have put on for us all, Meryton has never seen something so splendid in all my years here I am most sure of it. Where Is Mr Hurst then?"
"It would appear that our meeting shall have to be postponed, Sir William. Unfortunately, it seems that Mr Hurst has succumbed to the effects of the single malt." Bingley replied. Lying was not in his nature but seeing as his brother-in-law had indeed passed out drunk on a sofa some time ago there was some truth in his response.
Without mentioning the compromised library door, Darcy steered Sir William in the direction of the connecting door and back towards the card room. Bingley followed closely behind, and after throwing the unopened letter in the fire, attempted to distract the man from the odd circumstances with talk of organising a hunting party.
The gentlemen left Miss Bingley standing alone in the middle of the library, her scheme in tatters and her emotions running high. Mr Darcy had misjudged the tears forming in the ladies eyes however; she was not sad or heartbroken at her loss of a husband. She was seething at the loss of the title 'Mistress of Pemberley', and when she had collected herself fifteen minutes later and walked back into the ballroom that anger almost boiled over as she observed her Mr Darcy dancing with that country chit, Eliza Bennet.
After a few minutes of conversation with Sir William, Darcy could take it no longer; he needed to be in Elizabeth's presence. He needed to hear her laughter and allow her to remind him that he was still free to choose his own bride.
When Lizzie had noticed Mr Darcy approaching she had thought to herself that she had never seen him anxious before. She distinctly remembered how angry he had looked when he saw Mr Wickham that first time, how bored he appeared during afternoon calls, but she did not think she had ever seen the uneasy expression that was etched on his brow at that moment. After a brief bow he asked her to dance and, without even looking to see if her father was nearby to disapprove of them, she accepted. Something had obviously happened to put him in such a state and he had sought her out for comfort; she did not think she could deny him anything if it would help him.
As the pair took their place in the line Darcy marvelled at the glow the candlelight gave to Elizabeth's rosy skin. She was a balm to his sour mood and with every step of the dance, each smile given or touch of her hand, he felt himself slowly relaxing.
When they were a little less than halfway through the first dance of the set, Elizabeth could take the quiet no longer, "This is a fine piece of music, is it not, Mr Darcy?" After a paltry reply Elizabeth pressed on, "Come, sir, we must have some conversation. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, that would draw more attention to us than not."
"Very well, Miss Elizabeth," he replied with a hint of a smile that had been missing from his face before until then, "enlighten me with what you wish to be said, and I shall say it."
Elizabeth laughed easily at the remark but decided to take the opening as a more serious invitation than it was in all likelihood meant. "Will you tell me what business pulled you away from supper so promptly and must have been so disconcerting as to settle a dark cloud over your head since your return?"
Darcy did not wish to lie to Elizabeth but was unsure what he should tell her. It would be unkind of him to expose Miss Bingley even though he was confident the knowledge would not go further than Miss Bennet at the most. Instead, he opted for revealing a consequence of what had pulled him away rather than lie outright. "I must return to London tomorrow."
Despite her earlier demand for conversation, Lizzie was disheartened by the turn theirs had taken and struggled to find a response. They remained silent until the end of the set but as Darcy was walking Elizabeth back towards her friends, she paused and asked, "Does it have something to do with the things Mr Wickham has been saying about you?"
Darcy coloured and answered with a brisk "No." After a pause for further consideration he added, "I do not know, I have not heard, what that reprobate might be claiming has happened in our shared past, but I beg you to be cautious with the trust you place in his word. I have a long history with him and he is the worst sort of troublemaker."
"You need not fear there, sir. Though he has easy manners and has made many friends in the neighbourhood since his arrival, he has too many claims which oppose my own understanding for me to readily accept his version of events." Elizabeth desperately wished to add that she would happily listen to Mr Darcy's side of the story should he want to share it, but the look on his face told her she should not. Instead, she asked, "Must your departure be so sudden?"
Their walk around the edge of the ballroom took them past an open door at that moment. Without thought, Darcy steered them through it and out onto the terrace. It was well lit with lanterns and there were several couples scattered about sat on benches. Darcy manoeuvred them towards a low stone wall, away from prying ears, in the hopes of affording the pair some measure of privacy.
"I am afraid so." He said when they had stopped, "Something has happened and I must leave as soon as possible."
Darcy saw the sadness in Elizabeth's eyes then. It flooded him with heartache and joy in equal quantities. He rejoiced that she, too, was reluctant to have their growing connection interrupted, but he hated that there was nothing he could think to offer as immediate relief.
As the two of them stood quietly looking at one another, Darcy reached out his hand. With it hidden between their bodies and the low wall he let his fingers brush against Elizabeth's. They were both wearing gloves but he allowed his imagination to remove them; based on her rising colour, his companion was following a similar line of thought.
Lizzie was unsure what to say or do, but there in the dim light, the evening felt magical. She tried to put out of her mind Mr Darcy's impending removal from the neighbourhood and allow herself to enjoy her time in his company. As she was forcing herself to commit the heat of Mr Darcy's hand through their gloves to memory, Elizabeth realised he was trying to speak.
The rare but endearing hesitation in his speech had returned so she tried to smile encouragingly at him as he said, "Would it – That is, could – What I mean to say is – If it is agreeable to you, I would like very much – When you are next in London, may I call on you at your aunt and uncles home?"
Darcy was nearly blinded by the beauty of Elizabeth's wide smile. With a nod she replied, "I would like that."
When the guests were departing at the end of the evening, both Darcy and Elizabeth knew they would not be soon retiring to bed. Darcy knew he must speak with his friend before he left Netherfield and Elizabeth was certain her talk with Jane about Mr Collins could wait no longer. As the Bennet family stood waiting for their carriage, the pair exchanged glances from across the entrance hall. Neither were pleased that their farewell could not be more public, but both contented themselves with knowing the parting would only be temporary.
I loved reading your comments hoping for Mr Collins and Caroline to be forced together - as you can see it's not happened but it's a great idea. They would both be well punished in that match up I think. If I didn't already have plans for both characters I might have gone with it.