Caroline Bingley frowned at her reflection in the looking glass. She looked rather pale today, washed out. Her lips were pressed firmly together in a line and her eyes shot daggers at her own image.
How could her fool of brother marry that Bennet girl! It was insupportable. She simply would not have it. She turned her scowling gaze from the mirror to the window. The country view was horribly wild, she thought. She could not imagine how a view of trees and grass could be preferred to that of rooftops and expensive brick houses packed tightly together in the city. She would leave the country as soon as possible. And she would bring her brother with her, without a wife.
She turned her dissatisfied scowl on her ladies' maid who was standing stiffly in the corner of her room; quiet as if she were there, but close at hand to instantly do her lady's bidding.
"Sarah," crooned Caroline, forcing her lips into a smile. "I am in a horrid mood."
"Your brother's approaching wedding," answered the perceptive Sarah.
"Exaclty. It must not take place. It would be unseemly to have him marry a woman so beneath him."
"Yes ma'am," agreed Sarah without even a shake of her head, a bat of her lids.
Caroline sighed. "He will not give her up easily. I fear he is completely besotted."
"Yes ma'am."
"I fear I shall have to stoop to trickery, deceptiveness."
"Yes ma'am."
"Your assistance will be necessary unfortunately. So will the assistance of your…" Caroline was quite aware of the fact that her ladies' maid was in the midst of a rather intimate affair with a young, strapping footman. She eyed the girl. Right height, right hair color… that's all that would matter. "I will pay your intimate friend and you enough money to marry if that is what you wish."
Sarah understood her mistress, though not completely, as the scheme that was forming in Miss. Bingley's mind was not yet clear to her. "What is it you wish me and Jos to do, Miss. Bingley?"
Miss. Bingley's grin was vicious. "Only what you are already doing already."
Elizabeth peeked into the drawing room, hoping Mr. Darcy would not be in there with his friend and her sister. She did not wish him. She did not think she could face him, knowing what she did.
But she was being silly. And she always counted on herself to be the last to act silly. It was simply not one of her traits. Laughing at herself and steeling her spine, she confidently pushed the door open and smiled at the room's occupants. Of which Mr. Darcy was not one. Strangely, she felt more disappointment that relief, but she ignored the compulsion to mull over her own feelings in favor of focusing on the couple with golden heads bent close together, sitting close to the window.
"Jane," she said happily. "Mr. Bingley, what have you done with my sister? She should be upstairs in bed, but I find her ensconced up on a couch in here? How, pray tell, did she come to be so?"
Bingley flushed and pulled himself upright in his chair, further from Jane who was reclining on a nearby couch, her ankle propped on a stack of pillows and covered modestly by a thin white blanket. "I carried her here Miss. Bennet. She admitted to being tired with her sick room, and I thought the library would be a nice change."
"How very attentive of you Mr. Bingley."
"Elizabeth," spoke Jane, "Father has agreed to let Mr. Bingley and me marry by the weeks end!"
"Indeed!" exclaimed Elizabeth, feigning surprise. "But… however will you manage that, sister?" Jane and Bingley gave her confused looks. "You cannot stand in front of a church to be married if you cannot stand at all!" Both Jane's and Bingley's faces fell, their bodies draining of their joy before Elizabeth's very eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Bingley!" exclaimed a distressed Jane. "How did we not consider such a thing! How could we, I especially, have forgotten my own infirmity?"
"Surely there is something we can do to fix this matter. Though… I would wish to do nothing to impede your healing." Bingley, frowned and scratched his head at the base of his neck, deep in thought. "We must simply wait until your ankle is healed, and you are well again."
Jane looked crestfallen, having been the own downfall to her impetuous wedding plans. Seeing the pained expression on his fiancée's face, Bingley quickly assured her that a slight delay would be nothing whatsoever. They could endure it.
"No," spoke Elizabeth defiantly. There shall be no delay. A happiness as great as yours should not have to wait for complete fulfillment! Come Jane," she said, moving closer to the couch and extending a hand. "Put your good foot on the floor and keep your injured foot raised. Lean on me for support." Jane did as she was told, never once wincing in pain. Elizabeth and Bingley both searched her face for signs of distress and were rewarded by the complete lack of them. "Is there pain, jane, any pain at all?"
Jane hesitated before answering. "It… feels funny," she replied, "But there is no pain."
"It feels funny?" questioned Bingley. "Then you should lay down again at once."
"Yes, yes," agreed Elizabeth, "But… perhaps if you rest for the entire week, until the day of the wedding, then even that funny feeling shall pass when you stand. You could stand on one foot, and use a wooden crutch. Or if you prefer, Mr. Bingley or I could be your crutch. We can hem your dress so that no one sees you standing on one foot alone. What do you say," she asked, smiling at the both of them. "Is it a plan that could save your impetuously laid wedding plans?" Her smiled turned gentler and her gaze rested on her sister. "Will you do this Jane, or do you think it is not a wise plane. We will not implement it without your approval." She knew Bingley would approve of anything that aided him in marrying Jane as soon as possible."
Jane smiled tentatively. "Yes, that appears to be a wonderful plan indeed!"
"Capitol!" exclaimed Bingley. "Simply marvelous! You are a wonder Miss. Bennet. For saving our wedding, I am yours forever." His smile was warm and lighthearted and Elizabeth returned his smile in like.
I wish only, Mr. Bingley, she thought, that you would not warn Mr. Darcy against me. Her eyes darkened as her smile continued, but then, buoyed by the thought of her sister's happiness, sparkled quickly once again as she turned and left the happy couple to their own whispers and musings on love.
Darcy had managed to avoid Elizabeth all day, and had been grateful that Jane had decided to take her dinner in her room and that Elizabeth had elected to join her. He had needed to avoid her, to think out his overwhelming attraction for her. He had at first doubted his feelings, believing them to be only because of Bingley and Hurst's revelations in the garden. But no, they had been there before. They had been there before even his annoyance with her. He knew now, after long deliberation, that he had antagonized her and steeled himself against her simply because he was drawn to her. And he had been sure she had not felt the same. He had not yet been rejected by any woman of his acquaintance, and shied away from being rejected from the one woman with whom acceptance would mean all to him.
Truly, he had done a miserable job of convincing himself of his own dislike, for he could not keep himself away from Elizabeth the night before at the masquerade. He had not been able to stop himself from leaning close to whisper in her ear when it quite simply had not been necessary.
He smiled at his reflection in the full-length mirror. "Baxter," he inquired of his valet, "The green jacket, or the blue?" His dark coloring favored the green, which he wore, but he knew the blue would emphasize the strength of his shoulders. Baxter brought forth the blue jacket as Darcy began to hum. He had never heard his master hummed before. But he also had never seen Darcy plan out his wardrobe the night before he would be wearing it. It was most unusual behavior for the young man, but Baxter did not question it. Darcy held the blue coat up next to him, considering both suits in the mirror's reflection.
"Darcy?"
Mr. Darcy jumped and turned to stare at Bingley and Hurst who stood in his open doorway, grinning stupidly. "That," cried Mr. Hurst, "Sounds like the song of a man in love!"
"Could it be?" questioned Bingley. "Surely love has not made the stern Mr. Darcy his fool!"
"Be gone! The both of you," exclaimed Mr. Darcy. "I am no fool! And certainly not for love!" He realized that he would have to tame his mouth to his heart before he could reveal his heart through his words.
"Perhaps not a fool for love, but a fool for a certain lady," prompted Bingley. Darcy would have answered him scathingly had not their teasing banter been interrupted.
"Brother, Mr. Hurst," spoke Caroline from down the hall. I wish to speak with you." As she approached the door, she glimpsed Darcy as he removed his green jacket, tossing it onto him bed. She stopped dead in her tracks to admire the man in his shirtsleeves.
"Caroline. Caroline! Caroline!" yelled Bingley. "What is it you wish to speak of?"
"It is a matter of grave importance. You must all drop your current occupations and follow me." She included Darcy in this sentiment, hoping he would not pull on the blue jacket his valet held before following her and her brothers. Indeed, she almost wished her brothers would not follow at all. Just Mr. Darcy…
But this train of thought was not conducive to her current ends, though they might be conducive to a very desirable end.
"Is it that terribly important, Caroline," asked Hurst.
"Do you still intend to marry Miss. Bennet, Brother," she asked of Bingley.
"Of course!"
"Then you will all want to follow me post haste." With these words, she turned on the spot and flounced down the hallway. Hurst and Bingley exchanged looks of acquiescence. And began to follow Caroline.
"Will you come, Darcy," asked Bingley over his shoulder.
"Hm?" said Darcy whose mind had already flitted to other thoughts, "Oh, no, I do not believe I will." He studied his reflection. The blue, definitely the blue.
The moon was high and full and cast a bright glow over the garden. Hurst and Bingley trotted to keep up with Caroline, running into her as she came to a sudden stop behind a tree. The bows hung low and concealed them from sight.
"What are we doing out here, Caroline?" Hurst had no patience for his sister in law's foolishness.
She turned her gaze from house and stared stonily at the two men close to her. "Bingley, brother, you will not like what I have to show you, but I fear you should know this, if you are to marry Miss. Jane."
Bingley looked at his sister in confusion. "Know what?"
"My ladies' maid confided in me this morning that the footman who she had been seeing… shall we say… intimately has spurned her affections of late."
"What," boomed Hurst, interrupting, "does a maid's love life have to do with Bingley's wedding?"
"Patience, Hurst," snapped Caroline, "I am coming to that. There is a reason the footman in question has turned from my maid. He has found another. He has found a lady he believes will marry him and elevate his status; make him a great country gentleman."
"What are you saying, Caroline?" growled Bingley, not knowing quite where this was going, but feeling acutely that he did not like it.
"I am sorry, Charles. But the lady is Miss. Jane. And I am afraid that the footman's dreams of social elevation are quite possible. For if Miss. Jane is carrying his child, she will have to marry him. Unless," Caroline hesitated, noticing the almost lethal glint in her brother's eyes, the way his fists were clenched tightly against his sides. "Unless she meant to marry you, and raise the footman's child as your own." She fell as silent as the rest of the garden, casting an immovable stoniness over her features, awaiting Bingley's reaction.
"You go too far Caroline. I know you believe the Bennets to be beneath us, but I thought you liked Jane." His voice was cold and emotionless, his face impassive.
"I did, poor brother. And I would not have believed my maid had I not seen… had I not seen that." She pointed through the tree's low hanging branches and towards a small rectangular window on the second floor of the house. Jane's window.
Caroline wasted but a minute on the tableau above her. From the back, the woman being passionately kissed in the window was most certainly Jane. If she had not known better herself, she would have been fooled. The scene would be believed. She did not doubt it in the least. She turned her gaze quickly towards Bingley, and was quite delighted by the reaction that suffused his features. Anger, disbelief, confusion, and hurt all played about his eyes and lips, emotions fighting for prominence in his face.
Jane was cheating on him with another man. Jane… was a… a loose woman. A whore.
His heart was crushed, ground under the hard heels of Caroline's shoes.
Wearing the blue jacket, Darcy exited his bedroom that morning in nervous anticipation. He would not be able to avoid Elizabeth this day. He would see her at breakfast in a minute or two, and he looked forward to smiling at her brilliant eyes instead of scowling at them.
"Mr. Darcy," spoke a shy voice from behind him. It was Elizabeth's voice. He had never thought her shy before, but her tone of voice could not be mistaken. He knew the reason for it, and rejoiced.
"Yes, Miss. Bennet?" he asked, turning to face her. She peeked out from her sister's room, her hair pulled back, but messy. Her eyes still held signs of sleep, but he knew their groggy depths held sparks waiting to be rekindled.
"I was wondering if you would do me a great favor." She bit her bottom lip and looked at him pleadingly.
"Anything you ask, I will do."
She smiled shyly and him, and he realized the smile wakened her eyes, and he exulted at being able to produce such a phenomena. "My sister would like to join us downstairs for breakfast. I was going to get Mr. Bingley when I saw you and thought that… perhaps… you could carry her down." Elizabeth bit her lip once more, and pulled on a curl at the nape of her neck.
"I will," answered Darcy, wishing it were Elizabeth and not her sister he would be holding in his arms. If Bingley saw, he might very well call him out! But if Elizabeth wished it, he would do it.
Jane was light, and blushed prettily while thanking him profusely for his help and conveyance. But he barely heard a word, for his mind was on the lady who walked beside him, not the one he held. He set the eldest Miss. Bennet down on a settee in the breakfast room and chose a seat close to Elizabeth's. However, he was not able to inquire of her sleep before Bingley came into the room, followed closely by Mr. Hurst and Caroline.
"The carriage is ready to take you home. Maids are packing your belongings this very instant." he spoke coldly, looking at first Jane then Elizabeth. His back was as straight as steel and his shoulders were set defiantly. All of the amiable charm was gone from his face. The Bennet sisters look startled, and it was Darcy who spoke first.
"What is this about, Bingley? Miss. Bennet is in no condition to be moved. You know the doctor said not to put her in a carriage!"
A muscle in Bingley's jaw twitched as he shifted his gaze to his friend. "She will stay under my roof no longer. If you wish Miss. Elizabeth to stay, then let her, but her sister will leave immediately."
"What is the meaning of this Bingley! That is no way to treat a woman you wish to make you wife in a few days time!" Darcy was incensed for the Bennet girls. As soon as he had made up his mind to liking them, Bingley had to completely change his. In his mind, Bingley's was the greater sin, for he was mistreating the woman he intended marriage after he had already professed his love. Darcy had only mistreated the object of his affection before.
"You would not marry a lady who was not a maid, Darcy, do not think that I will!"
"What!" exclaimed Elizabeth and Jane together. "You dare to slander her honor!" Elizabeth stood and stalked toward Bingley. "Speak plainly Mr. Bingley, for I would know why you speak so meanly!" She was yelling now, and Darcy rose and pulled her away from the man she was glaring daggers at.
"Look how she blushes at my accusations! You do seem the innocent bride! But you are not!" Jane could not speak, she could not speak, she was sure the words spilling from her intended's mouth must be part of some horrid nightmare. Bingley turned his rage on Darcy and Elizabeth. "She knows the heat of a luxurious bed!" His eyes were wild and spit flew from the corner of his mouth as he threw the accusation forth.
"What do you mean, Bingley," spoke Mr. Darcy sternly, holding tight to Elizabeth's arm when she moved to throw herself at the offending gentleman before her.
"I will not marry an approved wonton!"
"What have you done, Bingley! How could you yourself defile a woman before marriage and then refuse to marry her? Indeed, to ruin her yourself and then cast her aside!" Darcy was furious now, and pushed Elizabeth behind him to confront Bingley himself.
"Not me! I did not touch her! I never thought of betraying her maidenhood with temptation!"
Jane finally found words, saying, "Did I ever tempt you sir? I did naught but love you with my eyes and heart!"
"Oh, Miss. Bennet! You seemed the very epitome of innocence! But your betrayal is in your false appearance. You have been found out!"
"Hurst," said Darcy, "Why do you let the boy speak so? Still his tongue!"
"I do not trust my own voice and judgment. I, who helped bring about the connection of my brother in law to a common strumpet!" Hurst remained in the doorway, impassive, silent.
"Proof!" demanded Elizabeth. "What proof do you have of these hateful, damning words?"
"Answer me this question, Miss. Bennet," replied Bingley, focusing his gaze on Jane. "Who was the man you were with last night in your room?"
"What man?" asked Jane in distress, tears spilling from her eyes. "I do not know of any man! I was with Elizabeth while I ate, and then alone. I was alone last night!"
"No, you were not! Mr. Hurst, Caroline and I saw you. YOU! With a man, in the window of the empty bedroom next to your own." He spat out the words, hurt and anger emblazoned on each one.
"No, no Charles, it was not me, I swear it, I swear it!" She could not stop her tears now, and Elizabeth clung to her while she sobbed unheeded in front of all.
"Do not address me so informal, madam." Bingley turned his back, glad she was hurting as much as he, but not able to look upon her pain. "If all love is as yours, I will never give my heart again. Beauty is naught to me now but falsehoods and betrayals. Your supposed virtue and goodness the biggest trick of all." He fell silent as he placed his hand on the door handle. "Leave my house," he said.
The door opened and Bingley left with Hurst and Caroline in tow. Mrs. Hurst looked shocked and confused as she stiltedly lifted herself from her chair and left after few failed attempts at speaking. Darcy turned to the Bennet sisters behind him to see that Jane had fainted. Elizabeth held her closely.
"Jane, Jane. You must wake up. All will be well. I promise. Wake up, Jane, please wake up." She was holding back tears and knew she had to get her sister away from this house and back home before word spread quickly to her parents on the gossip line of servants.
"Slap her," ordered Darcy, kneeling down near the settee.
"What?"
"Slap her. We must wake her and get her in the carriage. It is the only way."
Elizabeth saw the truth in this and bit her lip lightly before pulling back her hand and hitting her sister on the cheek. She had never hit her sister before. Not even when they were children. Jane awoke with a startled cry and wild, darting eyes. When they fell on Elizabeth and Darcy, new tears began to spill.
"I will take you to the carriage, Miss. Bennet," explained Darcy softly. I will escort you home." Both girls assented to Darcy's plan, and Elizabeth went upstairs to check on the maid's progress in packing their belongings as Mr. Darcy carried her sister to the waiting carriage. The packing was not done, and Elizabeth sent the maids from the room in a sharp voice that was obeyed immediately. She pulled a shawl from the window seat and turned to drop it into her bag but could not move her legs. They buckled beneath her and she fell to her knees in front of her window, dropping her numbed face into her palms and taking deeps draws of breath. Large drops spilled out between her fingers and dampened the cushion on the window seat she had laid her head on.
She felt a soft touch on her shoulder. "Elizabeth," came Darcy's deep voice, "Have you cried all this time?"
Elizabeth lifted her head and stared out the window, barely registering that Darcy's hand still rested on her shoulder. "Yes. And I do not believe I will stop just yet."
"Please…do. I do not wish to see you weep."
"It does not matter."
"Elizabeth, I do not believe your sister guilty of the crimes that have been flung at her. She is innocent."
"Thank you for your confidence, sir." She laughed a laugh devoid of happiness and humor. "But it is not confidence I need. I need only a man who will right this wrong. Such a man would have my eternal gratitude."
"What can I do Elizabeth? Is there a way I can show you friendship in this matter?" His fingers flinched on her still shoulder, and he kept himself from pulling his fingertips higher and into her hair.
"There is a way, but I fear there is no friend."
"There is me."
"It is not your problem, Mr. Darcy. You have no reason to pull my good Jane's name from the depths of filth it has been thrown in." She still stared out the window, her body motionless and cold beneath his hand.
"But it is, and I will. Elizabeth… dearest, loveliest Elizabeth… I do love nothing in the world so much as I love you. Is not that strange?" He did now move his hand to her cheek, pulling it up and down her smooth, tearstained skin.
"As strange as me saying that I love nothing so much as I love you. No, do not believe me… but I do not lie!" She stood abruptly and leaned in close to him, placing her forehead on his chest. "Oh! I do not know my feelings at this moment! I feel only hurt for Jane!"
"My Lord, Elizabeth! You do love me, I know it!" He wrapped his arms fiercely around her shaking body and thrust his face into her shoulder.
"Do not swear if you should be lying, Mr. Darcy," she said softly into his jacket, putting her hands against his stomach and pushing away from him.
"But I do not fear of lying when I swear you love me, and I will kill the man who swears I am lying when I say I love you!" He reached after her turned back but she flinched out of his grasp.
"Then you do no lie?" she asked as she turned and faced him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"No. I protest from the depths of my heart, I love you!" His words were calm and gentle now, and he let a small satisfied smile grace his lips. It was freedom just to say it, to let her know, to assure her of his devotion.
"Then I am sorry, Mr. Darcy."
"Sorry for what? You have done me no wrong, sweet Elizabeth."
"I have questioned your words, your feelings, when I have been all morning on the verge of telling you the very same." She now dropped her gaze to the floor, shuddering a deep breath.
But Darcy would not have it, lifting her chin to bring her gaze even with this own, he spoke. "Do, Elizabeth. Do tell me what your heart would say."
"Only… only that it loves you so completely that there is no part of it left to protest."
He pulled her into his arms and sighed the contented sigh of the loved. "I will do anything for you Elizabeth. That is what I thought when you asked me this morning if I would perform you a favor, that I would do whatever you asked of me. And I will, dearest. You have but to ask it of me."
Elizabeth remained silent, horrible thoughts churning through her head. When her voice finally gave voice to thought, they caused Darcy to pull away from her. "Call Bingley out. Challenge him." Her voice was steady, her body calm for the first time since she'd collapsed to her knees in front of the window.
"A duel? With my friend? No, Elizabeth, not for you, not for the wide world." He turned his gaze from her to the window. Clouds had gathered low over Netherfield, blocking the late morning sun. Rain would come. He could hear the faint grumblings of thunder in the distance.
"Then you deny me." She turned towards the bed and stuffed the shawl she still clutched in her hand into the bag there. She pulled the bag closed and strode towards the door. "Goodbye Mr. Darcy."
"Elizabeth! Wait!"
"No, I must leave and get Jane to Longbourn."
"Do not leave upset with me," he pleaded, holding onto her upper arm and pulling her towards him.
She pulled her arm from his grasp. "You lied, Mr. Darcy. You said you would do anything I asked of you. But you refuse. I must assume you lie also when you say you love me."
"He is my friend, Elizabeth," he argued with her, dropping both arms dejectedly to his sides.
"And he has wronged my sister most grievously! My father will not be able to force the man to marry Jane, and Bingley would surely kill him in a duel, leaving us all out in the cold, passed over by a cousin we've never met! Who is there to defend Jane's honor but I? And I am not a man! I am not allowed to do what men are, what you are! If I were a man, I would defend her." Her words rose louder and louder as she talked, her face red with rage until her words died suddenly. The next she spoke, her voice was calm and cold with defeat. "But I am not a man. I do not have a man's facilities and privileges. And there will be no one to defend poor Jane." She opened the door to the room and stepped one foot out before Darcy stopped her.
"Wait," he said softly. "I do love you. I do."
"Do not tell me. Show me." She did not look at him. In truth, she did not feel completely as if she were being fair to Mr. Darcy. But the anger in her heart overrode the feelings for the man she loved. In the heat of rage, she did not care how much it might hurt Darcy to have to run his friend through with a sword.
"You are quite sure this is what you want? There is no other way?"
"None whatsoever. There is nothing else I want." But you, added her heart, but she ignored it.
Darcy sighed deeply and turned away from her. "Then I will challenge him. I will go to him once you and Jane have left, and tell him I am leaving Netherfield for an inn in the village. And… and that he must pay for the slanders he has spoken, the young girl he has hurt beyond repair." He took her hand and raised it to his lips, lingering longer on his soft skin than he should have. "Go to your sister, comfort her. If you have left anything, I will bring it by on my way to the village today. Everything will be all right. I swear it. When you think of me, know that I take your pain upon myself, and endeavor to lessen it.
Elizabeth, who had been staring down the hallway the entire time, pulled her eyes toward his and bit her lip. There was such confusion and pain in her glance that Darcy was almost glad when she pulled her hand from his and walked away without a single word.
Asterisks are taken almost wholly or partially from the much ado text. However, I realized once I started writing the exchange between Darcy and Elizabeth, that this was so wonderful, I did not want to over change it at all. If it is not direct quotation in this part, then the conversation follows the same pattern. Everything there would have had an asterisk beside it, so I left off using them.
This line is taken from the movie Ever After. It was just screaming at me to go there. I had to use it.
