Chapter 4

The fortnight following the assembly found the party at Netherfield engaged in many different pursuits. Darcy and Bingley spent all their time going over the estate. For hours they rode over fields, pored over the books, and inspected the house. While the gentlemen were at work on the estate, the ladies of the house had to endure calls to and from their neighbors. Both gentlemen had been quite disappointed that they had had to leave shortly after the Bennet ladies had called, though both for very different reasons.

They had also found themselves attending several dinner parties, four of which the Bennet's had also attended. During these dinners Darcy was quite frustrated as Miss Bingley was his only companion. His proud demeanor and sour disposition had by this time rendered him as an unsocial taciturn man with whom no one wished to converse. Every evening found his name card placed next to Miss Bingley's and as far away from the Bennet's as possible. Although this infuriated the man, the same could not be said of his companion who was always relieved and thankful that she would not have to endure a tedious country dinner among unpleasant people alone. Night after night Darcy sat quietly listening to Miss Bingley's tirades against the community all while trying to catch a glimpse of Miss Elizabeth's eyes and conversation.

On the fourth dinner they attended with the Bennet's, Darcy had finally had enough. Determined to have an opportunity to speak with Miss Elizabeth, who had managed quite successfully to avoid him thus far, and remove himself from Miss Bingley's company, he quietly took note of where her name card on the table was. As the party adjourned into the dining room, he waited until both ladies had seated themselves before switching the names on the cards of their neighbors, placing his name next to Miss Elizabeth's and sending Mr. Long to sit next to Miss Bingley. The confusion and disappointment for all would have been quite comical to Darcy, had Elizabeth not paled upon seeing his name on the place next to hers. Guilt at using his magic to manipulate the evening's events nagged at him, but only for a few minutes until relief gave way.

Delighted to finally have the opportunity to converse with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was oblivious to the seething rage emanating from her. She had known that Mr. Long had been designated as her dinner companion for the evening and had the strangest of feelings that Mr. Darcy had been at fault for the mix-up. Somehow, the gentleman had managed to exchange the name cards without anybody noticing. She struggled to come up with an explanation for the strange occurrence yet failed.

Determined to ignore the man seated to her left as much as possible, she gave the shortest responses to his queries civility allowed and turned her attention to her companion on her right. Before long, Darcy gave up trying to engage her in conversation and once more became the quiet brooding man he had been before. This change in civility though simply angered Elizabeth more. How was it that the man who had insulted her could evoke feelings in her she could not comprehend? Even worse, how could he be so kind towards her one moment while ignoring everyone else around him and the next pretend she did not exist?

Distraught at her abruptness, Darcy finished his dinner solemnly, barely managing to attend to the conversation around him. He had never been so relieved to separate from the ladies after the final course had been served as he was that evening. When the time came for the gentlemen to finally rejoin the ladies, he took up a solitary post in the corner of the room and followed Miss Elizabeth's every movement with his eyes praying that he had been wrong about who she was.

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Several days after the disastrous dinner, Darcy found himself attending yet another gathering at Lucas Lodge. This affair was the largest the Netherfield party had attended since the assembly as Sir William seemed to be throwing the party as a welcome to a recently arrived militia regiment. As a result, Darcy was more easily able to escape notice from those gathered. Chuckling to himself, he was for once grateful for his reserved nature as no one thought his avoidance of others out of the ordinary.

Regardless of his desire to avoid Miss Elizabeth, he felt himself being drawn to her. He was as yet unsure if she truly was Iliana and half hoped she wasn't. He felt awful for having insulted her at the assembly, and had since tried to converse with her in the hopes that he might be able to atone for his slight. After she had brushed him off at the last dinner they attended, he began to doubt he would ever be able to apologize.

Without realizing it, he had wandered closer to where she stood conversing with Miss Lucas and was surprised to discover her addressing him.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

Pleased that she was willing to speak with him, let alone tease him, he decided to reply in like manner. "With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."

"You are severe on us," she replied with an eyebrow raised in question.

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! Always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."

Miss Lucas was persistent however and eventually Miss Elizabeth gave in. Glancing at Mr. Darcy with a grave look she said, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with - 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge' - and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

Darcy watched as she made her way with her friend over to the pianoforte. Although her performance was by no means capital, he found it infinitely more pleasing than most he had heard in the finest drawing rooms in London. Having listened politely to her first song, Darcy began to turn away from the crowd surrounding the instrument for his corner when she began her second song. Upon recognizing the tune, he turned tear filled eyes once again in her direction and stood mesmerized as she began to sing once more.

My lodging it is on the cold ground
And oh! Very hard is my fare,
But that which troubles me most is
The unkindness of my dear.
Yet still I cry, 'Oh turn, love,'
And Prithee, love turn to me,
For thou art the man that I long for,
And alack! What remedy?

'I'll crown thee with a garland of straw then,
And I'll marry thee with a rush ring;
My frozen hopes shall thaw, then,
And merrily will we sing:
O turn to me, my dear love,
And prithee love, turn to me;
For thou art the man that alone canst
Procure my liberty.'

But if thou wilt harden thy heart still
And be deaf to my pitiful moan,
Then I must endure the smart still
And tumble in straw alone:
Yet still I cry, 'O turn love,
And prithee, love, turn to me!
For thou art the man that alone art
The cause of my misery.'*

At one point during the song, Miss Elizabeth looked up from the instrument and her eyes met his. Without faltering she continued to play, not once looking away while he watched spellbound as green flecks danced in her eyes. The moment she ended her song, the green flecks disappeared and her eyes returned to their dull hazel color. Despite the many entreaties to continue playing, she willingly let her sister Mary succeed her at the instrument.

Darcy watched her walk away to rejoin her friend Miss Lucas. Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he continued to watch her as he no longer doubted who she was; for only she could sing their song with such emotion. Blinking back his tears he remembered the first time he had heard her sing it.

He had been studying under Captain Henry Cooke when he had met the niece of Matthew Locke, with whom his master was working with on a composition for an opera by Sir William Davenant. A young girl of merely nine years of age with long flaxen hair, she had taken an immediate liking to the young composing student. Willing to put up with her for the sake of his master, he tolerated her attentions with the impatience of an elder brother. Despite his many attempts to avoid her, she always seemed to find him.

Over the next several years, her attentions became more insistent every time they found themselves in each other's company. Refusing to see her as the young woman she had become, he was taken back one day when he came upon her singing with her uncle while delivering some notes. She had told her uncle a story about a woman in love with a man who did not know who she truly was. Matthew Locke had loved the story so much that he used it as inspiration for a song. Since it was her story that had inspired him, her uncle insisted that she be the first to sing it.

From the moment he entered the Locke residence, he had been drawn to her voice. As soon as he entered the room and saw her, he had forgotten everything except her green eyes which were boring into his own. As she finished the song, the song he by then knew was about them, his memories returned and he began chastising himself for having ignored her all those years; an oversight she quickly forgave. Within a month, however, she contracted the plague, yet again, and he lost her a week later. Their song, however, had never failed to bring him to tears. It was nothing more than her hearts greatest plea throughout their many cursed lives.

So deep in his memories of that past life, Darcy failed to notice Sir William had approached him.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

Surprised at having been addressed, it took Darcy several moments to realize what it was Sir William had been talking about. Apparently while he had been distracted, Miss Mary had been persuaded to play several Scottish and Irish airs so that her younger sisters could dance with the younger Lucas's and two or three offices. Turning to Sir William he said, "Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance." Smiling to himself, he thought of the druids and the complex motions of their ritual dances.

"Your friend performs delightfully," Sir William replied watching Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet as they joined the group. "I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy."

Confused and upset that Sir William had mistaken his comment as a criticism towards the activity he coldly replied, "You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir."

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

Now angry that Sir William was trying to purposefully prove his misunderstood statement wrong he simply said, "Never, sir."

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

Struggling to contain his anger he sneered. "It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it."

As Sir William continued to ramble on, Darcy merely stood there trying to keep his anger in check. He was greatly relieved when Sir William found a more agreeable subject, even if the man was still trying to discredit him.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

Thrilled to have the excuse to dance with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy began to smile until he saw her quickly pull her hand out of Sir William's and look around nervously.

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Struggling to keep a calm facade, Darcy said, "It would be a great honor if you would allow me this dance, Miss Bennet."

"I thank you, sir, but I must decline." Much to Darcy's consternation, she continued to look around nervously, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour." Even though he was much relieved that Sir William had replied instead of himself, his anger once again rose at the thought that the man thought so of him. He had always loved to dance; he was just reserved among company and preferred to only dance with her. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to attend to the rest of the conversation and was quite surprised to suddenly find himself alone as both Miss Elizabeth and Sir William had left to converse with others.

He was not left alone for long, however. Miss Bingley was quick to sidle up to him and began to place conjectures on what he thought of the evening. Wishing to silence her so that her insults would not be overheard, he simply told her that she was quite wrong and that his thoughts were more agreeably engaged on the great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman could bestow.

Wishing to hear that it was her eyes which brought him such pleasure, she was quite upset to discover that it was instead the eyes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. With a small smirk, Darcy spent the next several minutes watching his lost love laugh among her friends and neighbors all while ignoring Miss Bingley's tirade on the inappropriateness of Miss Elizabeth's demeanor and connections.

When he finally retired for the night, he dreamt of the day they first danced together.

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Elizabeth did not know why she had chosen to sing that song, or why it had such an impact on her that night. She had been a young girl when she had first heard it and immediately fell in love with the sad lyrics. They felt familiar, and despite the somber mood of the song, they were comforting. For months she played nothing but that song, much to her mother's displeasure. Eventually Mrs. Bennet had decreed that the song would no longer be allowed in her home. Despite the fact that it had been many years since she had last played it, Elizabeth was surprised to find she still remembered it perfectly.

Even more surprising to her was the fact that despite her will, her eyes were drawn to those of Mr. Darcy's. She watched as tears silently fell from his as he mouthed the words along with her. Confused at both her own actions and his, she was sure she was going mad when she saw in his place a man with Darcy's ice blue eyes but with light sandy hair and a more angular face; a man she was sure she had seen before.

As she finished her song, she was grateful to discover that her eyes were no longer drawn to his and she could finally look away. Unable to bear the beating of her heart, she quickly abandoned the instrument to rejoin Charlotte, yet she could not help but let her attention wander frequently to where Mr. Darcy stood seemingly lost in thought.

When she had been accosted by Sir William as she crossed the room, her stomach began to perform acrobatics as he tried to give her hand to Mr. Darcy. Unwilling to suffer his attentions, as they always seemed to discompose her, she quickly declined his offer to dance. He wrought so many emotions in her that she did not want to be in close proximity of him afraid that they would only increase. As quickly as she could, she made her escape, determined never to dance with him.

That evening Jane came to her room and wished to discuss Mr. Bingley, with whom she was sure she was falling in love. Not wanting to share her confusing feelings with her dearest sister and perhaps ruining her mood, Elizabeth sat quietly listening with a faux smile plastered on her face, thinking instead of Mr. Bingley's mysterious friend.


*"My Lodging It Is On the Cold Ground" by Matthew Locke (1621-1677) The tune appeared in "The Dancing Master" (1665)