Chapter 7

Events on the following morning did not proceed as Mr. Darcy had hoped. Baby Charles was having an exceptionally fussy morning, and Elizabeth ate a quick breakfast so that she could help Jane in calming him. Mr. Darcy barely had time to greet her, share a few minutes with her as she ate, and she was gone. He had hoped, as his sister had instructed, to attach himself to her for the entire day!

By the time she came back downstairs, it was mid-morning and a caller was announced for her.

It was the persistent Mr. Clifton.

"Miss Bennet, might you accompany me in walking the grounds of Netherfield this morning? It is a fine day outside, and I can think of no other whose company I desire more."

Mr. Darcy looked on in abject misery as Elizabeth acquiesced to Mr. Clifton's request. True to his word, Mr. Clifton had arrived at Netherfield well before noon, determined to speak to Miss Bennet alone.

For her part, Elizabeth thought it was best to speak to Mr. Clifton one final time so that she might finally impress upon him that her refusal of his proposal was immutable. It was time for her to be as firm as was necessary to convince him that his sentiments, while appreciated, were not reciprocated.

"Should you not take your cloak, Miss Bennet?" Clifton asked.

"No, sir, I do not intend that we shall be outside long." Elizabeth spoke these last words in a loud enough tone to ensure that Mr. Darcy would hear them. She hoped he realized what she was attempting to communicate to him, that she expected her walk with Mr. Clifton to be a short one. When she returned, she would take the first opportunity that presented itself to speak frankly to Mr. Darcy about those past matters that needed to be discussed before they could determine what their mutual future desires were.

Mr. Darcy took no comfort from her words. He was still so insecure in Elizabeth's regard for him that the thought of her spending even five minutes alone with Mr. Clifton was disquieting! Try as he might to appear undisturbed, he could not resist standing at the window, looking outside as Miss Bennet and Mr. Clifton disappeared from view.

Georgiana came up behind him and touched his shoulder. "All will be well, Fitzwilliam. I believe Miss Bennet knows she must be decisive with Mr. Clifton and for this, she must see him alone. Come, brother, standing by the window will not cause her to return any sooner! Better you should think of what you will say to Miss Bennet after Mr. Clifton takes his leave."

I have already thought of what I must say to Miss Bennet.The letter! Darcy remembered. He had not given it a thought since he left Pemberley.
"Georgiana, there is somethiing I must retrieve from my bedchamber," Darcy said. "I will return shortly."

Before Georgiana could question him, Darcy left the room, but his bedchamber was not his destination. He went to the rack in the foyer where his overcoat hung, and reached into the righthand pocket to retrieve the letter.

It was not there. Darcy, to be sure, checked the other pocket, with no success.

I am positive the letter was in my pocket.

He thought back and realized he had not held the letter in his hands since they left Pemberley. Perhaps it had fallen out oh his pocket in the carriage.

Darcy, with a quick look over his shoulder to ensure he was unobserved, hastily set off for the stables.

His stride brisk and determined, Darcy arrived at his destination within ten minutes. The caretaker thought Darcy's request an odd one as one would think he would have sent a servant on such a mission, but he allowed him into the stable so that he might check inside his carriage.

An exhaustive search of the carriage's interior was fruitless.

Darcy, now thoroughly disturbed, began to walk slowly back to the house. Should that letter fall into the wrong hands...or even the hands of the young lady for whom it was written...damn! He was not yet ready to expose his feelings so thoroughly. Why had he not written the letter merely for the satisfaction that came from the expression of his sentiments, then burned it?

And as though matters were not wretched enough, as Darcy made his way through the woods, he was appalled at the sight of Mr. Clifton, in an attitude of total supplication, on one knee before Miss Bennet.

He was far enough away that they had not seen him, and he considered changing direction so that he might not encounter them. He was convinced that Miss Bennet was on the verge of becoming engaged to Mr. Clifton, and he felt powerless to stop it.

But was he truly powerless? Perhaps it was time he found out.

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As Elizabeth had suspected, Mr. Clifton had decided to renew his proposals that very morning, despite his rejection of the previous day.

He dropped to one knee.

"Miss Bennet, I greatly admire you and enjoy your companionship. There are few women of my acquaintance with your wit and sensibility, and it is time I acquired a wife with whom to share my life and good fortune. Perhaps I am not the most romantic of men, but let me assure you I will honour you as my wife and the mother of my children, and you will want for nothing. You have refused me once, but I must ask you again. Will you do me the honour of accepting my hand?"

The man had expressed no more emotion than if he were buying a horse, Elizabeth thought.

"Mr. Clifton. No."

"Miss Bennet, I beg you to reconsider."

"No." Elizabeth deliberately kept her voice as passionless as his!

"I truly hoped..."

"I suggest you do not hope any longer."

"Miss Bennet, would it not be desirable for you to be settled as mistress of a large estate here in Hertfordshire, so near your family?"

Elizabeth decided she would reply no more. She folded her arms and waited.

At last, he was silent.

Mr. Clifton had finally come to the realization that his was a hopeless cause.

If Mr. Darcy had been close enough to hear Mr. Clifton's appeal to Elizabeth and the words she spoke in response, he would have smiled and continued on his way to the house, secure in the knowledge that, with Mr. Clifton conveniently dismissed, the way was clear for him to launch a campaign of love and devotion so compelling that Miss Bennet would be his bride by summer. But Mr. Darcy's turbulent emotions were not conducive to security, and he acted in a way that was not only uncharacteristic, but that made Elizabeth so angry she wished never to see him again.

He was not thinking rationally; all he could think of was that sycophant Clifton on his knees before Elizabeth...his Elizabeth...and furthermore, what reason did he, Darcy, have to believe her opinion of him had improved, beyond the one civil conversation they had had last evening? Clifton had had the benefit of wooing Miss Bennet for a period of weeks, and of not being an arrogant, insulting ass who threw in her face her family's inadequacies! And not only that, Clifton had been a true friend to Charles Bingley, not one who would seek to deny him the woman he loved. In Darcy's lovesick, jealous mind, Clifton, in fact, was looking better and better.

This litany of self-reproach taunted Darcy as he grew nearer to his beloved and the man who sought to take her from him. He could feel the blood rising to his face, his ears buzzing. Unable to remain in control of his emotions any longer, he grabbed Clifton by his cravat and lifted him to his feet.

"What do you think you are doing, man? I do not want you anywhere near Miss Bennet, do you understand?"
"Mr. Darcy, please!" Elizabeth implored, shocked at his behaviour. "Mr. Clifton was..."

"It was quite apparent what Mr. Clifton was doing, Miss Bennet! Last evening you...I...I assumed..."

"How dare you assume anything, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Clifton has been cordial and polite, and your incivility is shocking. I beg you to leave us and return to the house. Your presence is not welcome!"

Darcy, brought to his senses, released Mr. Clifton, who had not said a word.

He put his hand to his forehead in mortification.

"I apologize, Miss Bennet, Mr. Clifton. I will not inflict myself on you any longer. I wish the both of you every happiness."

He bowed briefly and hastened in the direction of the house.

Mr. Clifton turned to Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, if my actions in any way precipitated such an outburst, I sincerely apologize. It is apparent that the gentleman is gripped by an intensity of emotion difficult for me to understand. I envy him his enthusiasm," he said, grimacing as he massaged his throat, where Darcy had clutched him.

"I do not understand you, Mr. Clifton. Two refused proposals, and you appear more resigned than distressed."

He smiled ruefully. "Do not attempt to understand me, Miss Bennet. Just accept my assurances that if anything is lacking, it is on my part and not yours. I will take my leave now."

"Do not leave on my account, Mr. Clifton, or because of Mr. Darcy's barbaric display! I know how much Mr. Bingley values your friendship."

"Do not distress yourself, Miss Bennet. I deeply value Mr. Bingley's friendship, and I will return in a day's time when the situation has cooled. And who knows? I understand Mr. Bingley's unmarried sister will be at the christening celebration, and Bingley has been anxious to introduce us. Again, Miss Bennet, I apologize for the distress I have caused you today."

She stared at him as he left. Had Mr. Clifton just hinted that, having abandoned his pursuit of her, he would proceed to court Miss Bingley, whom he had never even met? Even Mr. Collins had not been as obvious as that!

When Miss Bennet returned to the house, she was alone. She was startled to find Mr. Darcy awaiting her in a grove of trees, a small distance from the house. He stood directly in her way, obstructing her progress.

"You are going to marry him, I suppose."

"Not that it is any of your concern, Mr. Darcy, but as I would not want to see any harm come to Mr. Clifton at your hands, I will tell you that no, I am not going to marry him. I have refused him, not once, but twice. Do you have any other insolent questions you want to ask?"

"Yes," he said, his breath coming hard. "Marry me. Marry me, Elizabeth!"

"That was not a question, that was a demand, Mr. Darcy, from a man who is accustomed to getting everything he wants. No, I will not marry you. There, now you and Mr. Clifton have something in common, you have both been refused twice."

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said, "I have never stopped loving you," and then he pulled her towards him, and with a passion born of a love that had burned inside him for many months, he kissed her.

This, their first kiss, was no gentle caress. His desire and her anger were at odds, and Elizabeth struggled against him, unable to push him away as he held her even more tightly. He did not let her go until he was ready to do so, and then only because he needed to breathe. He stared at her, unable to feel any elation at the triumph of his will over hers, because what he saw in her eyes stopped him cold.

She drew her right arm back and struck him hard, across his cheek.

"You do not love me. You want to possess me, and you never shall. I mean this, Mr. Darcy. We must be civil to each other, as we will stand together as godparents in two days' time, but other than that, we need not speak to each other."

"Elizabeth..."

She did not answer. She turned and walked back to the house, where, pleading a headache, she retired to her bedchamber for the remainder of the day. Darcy watched as she left, then waited a short interval until he himself returned.

Jane and Georgiana received identical answers from their respective siblings when they questioned them as to what had happened between them to cause such a breach in a promising relationship.

"I do not want to talk about it."

Chapter 8

On the day before the christening, Jane Bingley awakened early. A large number of guests were expected today, and she wished to consult with the household staff regarding the arrangements that had to be made. She began to slip out of bed, when a large male hand closed tightly around her wrist.

"Where do you think you are going so early, Mrs. Bingley?" Charles asked sleepily.

"Your sisters, and my parents and sisters are expected today, Charles, and I want to ensure that everything is in readiness."

"I assure you that they will not arrive at daybreak, Jane!"

"There is so much to do, Charles!"

"So much that you cannot spare your poor husband an hour of your time before you steal away, not to be seen for the remainder of the day?" He formed his lips into a most appealing pout and widened his eyes in supplication.

"How you exaggerate, Charles! You know full well that you will see me throughout the day."

"Perhaps, but not in the manner I wish to see you, Jane," he said, smiling suggestively.

"I suppose that I can see to breakfast later..." she began.

"We shall have breakfast in our chambers this morning," he said decisively.

"And the others...?"

"Are not even awake yet," he replied.

"You have thought of everything, have you not?" Jane asked impishly, sinking back onto the bed.

Charles reached for the bell-pull next to the bed, then hesitated.

"Yes. Just one question, though, Jane. Breakfast before, or after?"

"I believe that 'after' will do very well."

An hour later, as the Bingleys finished their breakfast in bed, Charles asked, "Jane, what on earth occurred between your sister and Mr. Darcy? They seemed to be getting along so well until yesterday."

"Charles, I have no more knowledge than you do, but it must be something awful, as Elizabeth refuses to speak of it. I have tried on more than one occasion to question her about it, and she flatly refuses to discuss it."

Charles contemplated his own happy situation, and for the thousandth time thanked the Lord that his wife was such an uncomplicated creature.

"Well, I am sure Darcy did something stupid to cause it! He either made one of his arrogant comments, or disparaged your family, and Elizabeth, to her credit, would not put up with it. I sincerely hope he did not try to force himself upon her, for if he did, I shall have to take him to task about it!"

Jane was shocked. "Oh no, Charles, Mr. Darcy is a perfect gentleman."

"A gentleman, yes, Jane, but perfect? Most emphatically not! If he knew what was good for him, he would tell your sister in no uncertain terms how much she means to him, because she is exactly what he requires to keep his haughtiness in check!"

"They are both of them very unhappy right now, Charles. I do so hate to see it."

"You have done all you can, Jane. It is now entirely up to the two of them."

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Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth managed to avoid each other until lunch, when meeting became inevitable. They positioned themselves at opposite ends of the table, and Elizabeth deliberately sat next to Jane so that she might converse with her sister and not find it necessary to speak to Mr. Darcy. She ate very little, and though Darcy tried not to look at her, he was unable to prevent himself from doing so. He was heartsick at what had occurred the previous day, and he did not know how to bring an end to their estrangement.

Georgiana was so distressed, she considered speaking to Elizabeth herself, but her brother had strictly forbidden it. She was determined, though, that if matters did not improve by tomorrow, she would defy her brother's wishes.

Elizabeth finished her lunch, then excused herself before coffee was served and went into the library. How she longed for a brisk walk outdoors, but the weather was dreadful, rainy and windy, and escaping into the park was not an option.

Caroline Bingley arrived before tea along with her sister and brother-in-law, and the Bennets soon after. Elizabeth then rejoined the party, uncustomarily grateful for even her mother's senseless prattle and Caroline's pointed remarks, because talking to others made it easier for her to ignore Mr. Darcy. Truth be told, she had found herself missing the liveliness of Longbourn as compared to the relative quiet at Netherfield. She joined her parents and sisters in exclaiming over the baby and how much he had grown in the mere seven days since they had seen him last. She stole a glance at Darcy to see how he was bearing up under all the loud chattering and laughter of her mother and sisters, but he seemed unperturbed. Why am I still concerning myself about what he thinks?

She might have been surprised at his thoughts. Elizabeth's large family may have been boisterous, at times to the point of impropriety, but that was far preferable to his own solitude, he thought. He even looked kindly upon Mrs. Bennet, who was almost transformed by her excitement at the birth of her first grandchild. Mr. Bennet, he noted, had abandoned his usual sardonic manner to make faces and odd clucking noises for the amusement of his grandson. Suppressing his own emotions, he thought, had ultimately led to the sort of explosive outburst which yesterday had ruined his chances with Miss Bennet forever.

Georgiana, though shy and far less gregarious than the Bennet sisters, seemed delighted in their company. He had never seen her smile and talk so much to people she had just met. And now, by his actions, he had deprived himself not only of the woman he loved, but his sister of the benefit of an alliance with Elizabeth and her family. How ironic, he thought, that at one time the thought of Georgiana's interaction with the Bennets had prevented him from acknowledging his love for Elizabeth. He had been a fool, through and through.

Caroline Bingley immediately gravitated to Mr. Darcy, rejoicing that any fear she might have had of Mr. Darcy's former partiality toward Elizabeth being rekindled was unfounded. She had been peeved that she had not been asked to be the baby's godmother, as it was she who should have had the opportunity to stand close to Mr. Darcy in church, wearing her finest gown. Interesting, though, that Elizabeth Bennet was deliberately placing herself as far from Mr. Darcy as possible at present.

Being on unfavourable terms with Miss Bennet had not, however, inclined Mr. Darcy to desire to be more intimate with Miss Bingley! Try as she might, Caroline could not get Mr. Darcy to respond in an animated manner to any of her questions or comments. He was polite, and no more.

Mr. Clifton called during tea, and was easily convinced to remain. Caroline's interest was immediately piqued by this eligible stranger, and when her brother made the necessary introductions, she commandeered Mr. Clifton's attention, if for no other reason than to attempt to make Mr. Darcy jealous.

Darcy was gratified to see, at least, that Elizabeth paid Mr. Clifton no special notice and was merely polite in response to his greeting. Mr. Clifton, in turn, had abandoned any hope of winning her affections and did not seem the worse for it. In fact, upon being introduced to Caroline Bingley, he soon conversed with her exclusively and Darcy noted that Elizabeth was undisturbed at this turn of events. She looked at Mr. Clifton no more often than she looked at Darcy himself.

Within 15 minutes of meeting Caroline Bingley, Mr. Clifton had determined that she would be a suitable wife. She was Bingley's sister and well connected, although he would have preferred to marry a gentleman's daughter such as Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Bennet's lack of fortune had been of no consequence to him, since he was himself so well situated. Miss Bingley, he told himself, was reasonably handsome (although the predominance of the colour orange in her attire made him cringe) and seemed pleased with his attentions.

Caroline likewise had decided that as Mr. Clifton was unattached, wealthy, handsome and very fashionably dressed, she would not mind getting to know him better, especially if her interest in him attracted Mr. Darcy's attention. She was pleasantly surprised when Mr. Clifton mentioned her brother's happiness, and how he wished he would be so fortunate in his choice of a bride. No man had ever so openly alluded to marriage with Caroline Bingley before! True, his Hertfordshire estate was not as large or impressive as Pemberley, but as Mr. Darcy seemed pointedly disinterested at the moment in anything save looking out the window, she gave Mr. Clifton her undivided attention.

"Do you have a house in London as well, Mr. Clifton?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he said, "in Belgravia."

Excellent, Caroline thought. Excellent.

"Caroline!" Louisa called. "You have not yet held the baby, come here!"

"Oh, yes, of course," Caroline replied brightly, feigning enthusiasm for Mr. Clifton's sake.

Elizabeth happened to glance in Mr. Clifton's direction while Caroline exclaimed over the baby, and what she saw startled her.

The moment Caroline left him, Mr. Clifton directed his attention toward the divan at the far end of the room, where Jane and Mr. Bingley sat. They were huddled together, oblivious to all others, Jane whispering into Mr. Bingley's ear, and he smiled delightedly as he responded to her comment. Their love and devotion to each other would be apparent to anyone who observed them.

On Mr. Clifton's face was an expression of longing and sadness. It was there for just a moment, and then he recollected himself, and it was gone.

Elizabeth was struck by an alarming thought. Might Mr. Clifton be in love with Jane? Is that why he seemed so determined to marry someone close to Jane and Bingley, so that he might be near her? Convinced now this was the case, Elizabeth felt pity for him. Jane and Bingley were perfectly suited to each other, that was apparent, and how ardently she hoped she might find so perfect a match for herself. Poor Mr. Clifton, to be in love with someone who was so utterly unattainable! Jane was a rare woman, beautiful both inside and out, and any other would be a poor substitute, indeed. Myself included, Elizabeth wryly thought.

At the thought of unrequited love and its unhappy consequences, her eyes were drawn once again to Mr. Darcy. He stood silent and alone near the window, his posture much as she remembered it from his early days in Hertfordshire. They had spoken but little since yesterday's incident in the Netherfield woods, and she knew not what he was thinking. Every time she saw the faint outline of the bruise on his cheek from her angry slap, she felt guilty at having hurt him, despite his unforgivable behaviour.

I am truly beginning to believe that all men are out of their wits! And the more irrational they are, the more inclined they seem to make proposals of marriage to me!

"Such distressing weather," Mrs. Bennet was saying. "So wet and cold, April is such an unpredictable month. I do hope it is fine tomorrow for the christening."

20 April, to be exact, Elizabeth thought. Exactly one year ago today, Mr. Darcy made his first proposal to me at Hunsford!

At the very same moment, the very same thought came to Mr. Darcy, and their eyes were irresistibly drawn to each other.

I will never forget, he thought. The last man in the world she would ever marry, and a year's time has not improved her opinion of me.

Deeply ashamed of his behaviour the previous day, he turned away.

Elizabeth was now certain that tomorrow, after the christening, he and Georgiana would return to Pemberley directly. Mr. Darcy had never really loved her, she was convinced of that now.