I'm so sorry to all who have been patiently awaiting this chapter! I have been moving house and job so life has been crazy. I'll hopefully pick up the pace soon and we'll be back to normal. I'm going to make a very serious attempt to get chapter ten up this weekend to make up for it too! Wish me luck! And please, please review, nothing is more of an inspiration than knowing that there are people out there reading my ramblings and actually taking pleasure from it! Happy birthday to the woman who has been checking so consistently for my updates, I'm sorry I couldn't get this to you sooner. And to everyone who has been so kind as to review, you have no idea how much it truly means, thank you!
Now, without further ado... (please review!)
Chapter Nine
Jane directed her glance away from the long mirror in the modistes, her cheeks blushing an innocent rosy red as she stood in her stays and chemise whilst the shop girls tugged, plucked, pricked and preened the material and herself. "This gown will be exquisite once we make these final adjustments, Mrs. Bingley. Oh, to have such a model of perfection to dress, it is a blessing indeed, you shall be heavenly," came the voice of Mrs. Williams, the owner of the establishment. Elizabeth certainly did not disagree that Jane's figure was quite perfect but she did wonder if Mrs. Williams joy in dressing her might portend from the size of Mrs. Bingley's account in the modistes as opposed to that of her proportions.
"And you Miss. Bennet," the modiste said, seeking Elizabeth's eyes in the mirror instead of turning to face her, making Elizabeth feel quite like a child caught doing something she ought not. "Shall be regal, for your beauty is more striking and your figure lighter but pleasing, I think," Mrs. Williams stated in a tone which was more mater of fact than seeking to flatter. "In fact," said Mrs. Williams, now turning to face Elizabeth as she walked closer, "please stand, Miss. Bennet." Elizabeth did as she was bid with an internal sigh of resignation. "Yes, I believe we can in fact do much with this, it is your neckline and sleeves which make you appear so slight and I recommend better stays also," she said as she lifted one on Elizabeth's arms to examine her sides, making her feel a little like a horse being reviewed before a sale. "Mary, please see to Miss Bennet's measurements and procure appropriate stays before you begin the gown," commanded the woman to one of the shop girls.
~oOo~
"Mrs. Bingley," came a voice from the door to the modistes as Jane and Elizabeth were preparing to leave. "How pleasant it is to see you," said the woman as her eyes roved over Jane's length in quick assessment. "Mrs. Avery, the pleasure is mine, I hope you are well?" Jane said in curtsey. "May I introduce you to my sister, Miss. Elizabeth Bennet? Lizzy, this is Mrs. Avery, she is one of Miss. Bingley's friends."
The woman, a Mrs. Avery, eyed Elizabeth with a cursory glance and then gave a very practiced looking smile. "Miss. Bennet, a pleasure," she said as she gave a shallow curtsey. "And you, Mrs. Avery," Elizabeth said with a pointed look as she examined the woman in return. Mrs. Avery then gave Elizabeth one last sweeping glance before returning her attention to Jane, whereupon she confirmed that Jane would be attending some one or other of the balls or soirees forthcoming. She did not move from the centre of the shop floor causing the sisters to step around her after bidding their adieus.
"Lord! I wish fashion would not be so fickle, if it would only choose a design and stay that way," Lizzy sighed as she and Jane fell into their respective seats in the carriage. "Then we should never have to spend so very long poring over patterns and then being tucked and sewn into ridiculous lengths of fabric, not to mention being coerced into such contraptions as stays!" She continued, tugging at the newly acquired stay she now wore. "Honestly, such paraphernalia is laughable," she finished as she began laughing with her sister.
"You will not say so for long, Lizzy, even you cannot deny how beautiful you looked with all those silks around you. And that contraption," Jane said pointing to Lizzy's bodice, "is highly flattering," she laughed shyly.
"You will forgive me if I argue that it's merits are too few to trounce it's... disadvantages," Elizabeth replied as she twisted slightly in the corset. "Though I shall grow accustomed to it, I'm sure," she conceded before a mischievous smile tugged at her lips and she added, "besides I am to appear 'regal' and I doubt that a royal should wear a bodice from Mrs. Phipps shop in Meryton," she laughed.
By the time the carriage delivered the women back to the Bingley residence it was late in the day leaving enough time for a short respite before dinner. At the dinner table they discussed the days events, including the impromptu meeting with Mrs. Avery, this seemed to draw Charles' attention, "when did you first meet Mrs. Avery, Dearest?" He asked his wife. "With Caroline, a fortnight after we arrived, she came to call with some ladies," Jane's melodious voice said.
Mr Bingley could quite easily imagine who the rest of the ladies were, knowing the caliber of person his sister had a tendency to befriend, and he did not like the idea of Jane being tied up in such a group. Mrs. Avery nee Swift, up until six months ago, upon the event of her betrothal, was one of the many 'eligible' young ladies his sister approved of for him, she had a fortune of fifteen thousand pounds and not one connection in trade. She was also one of the biggest flirts Bingley had ever had the misfortune to endure for an entire evening and a unscrupulous gossip, she and Caroline Bingley were, no doubt, fast friends. "My dear, I don't wish to dictate with whom you associate, nothing of the sort, but there are some ladies who are... who may..." He struggled to find the words as he cast about for the most politic way of warning his wife against the gossips." Elizabeth could see him floundering, she had already formed her own opinion of Mrs. Avery and, now knowing her to be a friend of Miss. Bingley's, she had a good idea of what Charles wanted to say. She saw him floundering to find the least offensive words and decided that a straightforward approach from her may prompt him along, "I did not care for Mrs. Avery at all," she stated frankly. "Lizzy!" Jane gasped. "She is far too pleased with herself Jane and disapproving of all else and she doesn't hold back on making those opinions known, if I'm not much mistaken," she said lightly. "Lizzy, it is very wrong of you to say, Mrs. Avery is a friend of Caroline," Jane said as she gave an apologetic look at her husband. Mr Bingley grabbed his opportunity, "actually, dearest, Elizabeth is not mistaken, I must admit, though she is friends with Caroline, she has a rather...viscous streak which I would hate to see turned on your kind nature." He took Jane's hand and smiled sheepishly at her. She looked a little shocked by the directness of the statement but conceded to take care around the woman and her friends in future, this seemed to appease her husband as he turned to look at his sister Elizabeth with a gratuitous smile. He was feeling rather confident about this season.
~oOo~
Elizabeth sipped her tea in the oversized sitting room with its extravagant and rather overbearing furnishings, Jane was serene and smiled prettily whilst Caroline peppered her with assiduous compliments and Mrs. Hurst looked as bored as ever, looking up to smile and nod when Caroline asked for her agreement on some one or other of Jane's perfections. The other three or four ladies of the ton, Mrs. Hursts other callers who, if truth be told, had come to call in order to catch a glimpse of the new Mrs. Bingley, were more or less the same; they wore the same style and cut of dress, their coiffures were elaborate and their jewels excessive. Caroline Bingley was attempting to build favour with Jane enough so that she could remain in her brother's good graces, he would soon be be hosting balls and soirees with his new wife and Caroline would be a prominent guest at all the events if her life depended on it.
She could not quite bring herself to show so much deference for Elizabeth, even if she was Jane's dearest sister. She saw this as quite the opportunity to give Eliza Bennet the set down she so rightly deserved, in front of all the 'accomplished' ladies of the ton. If Hertfordshire was where Eliza Bennet was at her best on the battle field of wits, then London was Caroline Bingley's hunting ground. Caroline's best, however, was not all she thought it to be in the face of the 'country miss' whom she had assured all her friends was quite the hoyden.
"Miss Eliza," said she, not willing to address her as Miss. Bennet for the sheer pleasure of pretending indifference. her mouth was smiling but her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. "How do you find London thus far? No doubt it is quite a change from your usual society." She said, sending a sidelong glance in the direction of the fashionable ladies Mrs. Hurst had paying call. The attention was drawn to the pair, as Miss Bingley had intended. She had her audience. "'Tis a change from Hertfodshire undoubtedly," Elizabeth replied, cautiously.
"Oh yes, quite so. Wouldn't you agree that it has a certain caliber which little towns and counties are devoid of?" She said in with a conspiratorial air.
"It certainly has it's... differences to the country," said Elizabeth, still waiting for Caroline to pounce. For Jane's sake Lizzy had agreed to try to form some semblance of a 'friendship' with Caroline, but that woman was determined to make it difficult.
Caroline Bingley smiled an acidic grin and looked intently at Elizabeth, before she straightened and, regarding Elizabeth with a look designed to show sympathy, but conveying more triumph, said "oh my dear Miss Eliza, do not worry yourself, your country manners differ greatly and lack certain finesse but you will manoeuvre yourself suitably I am sure." At the titter from the group of 'fashionable ladies' Caroline couldn't resist continuing and said, "in fact, I feel that since we are..." She began, "practically related" she said with poorly hidden disgust, "it is quite my duty to guide you." She finished giving her most charitable look, one which made her seem in no small amount of pain. Caroline would be only too happy to enumerate the faults and failings of Miss. Elizabeth Bennet, whether she intended to give instruction on improvement remained to be seen.
"You are too kind Miss. Bingley," said Elizabeth in a tone which conveyed no sincerity, and then, with a sly and subtle smile she said, "what would you recommend? What is the fashionable attitude amongst young ladies of the ton at present?" She said, a knowing lilt to her voice.
If Miss. Bingley were not revelling in the attention and triumph of her conquest, she may have noted how uncharacteristic such a question was from Elizabeth, but, not being particularly astute and giddy from the idea of putting Eliza Bennet in her place she did not and said, "why Miss Eliza, you surprise me! I would have thought you at least knew the fashionable style of comport!" She cried, unable to stop a small laugh of triumph from escaping. But of course I should expect naught from Merytons society rooms to mirror that of London." She smirked and the women beside her exchanged looks of shocked amusement. "Well, my dear Eliza, you have found a most informed advisor in me, I am quite up to date on all the fashions of London and Paris too." She said and then smiled as if the compliment had been payed her by an outside source. "The current style in which to present oneself is indifference," she said as if she had just revealed the answer to one of life's great mysteries. "A lady must not show too much interest or inclination toward anything or anyone yet still address all the civilities, she must appear languid yet still show her figure to its best advantage, it is quite an art you see Miss. Bennet." She said, glancing at the other women.
Elizabeth laughed slightly at this, "it is, then, fashionable to appear bored and take no pleasure from the excitements the ton has to offer? To be so indifferent that you appear to be longing to be elsewhere? I rather wonder at any bodie's bothering to show up, surely it would be the height of indifference to simply forget to make an appearance and later make no apologies." She said, her eyes shining with mischief.
Caroline's smile faltered for but a moment before she said, "oh dear me, I quite forgot how you do enjoy exuberance, your wild rambles through the countryside are quite the proof of that. I suppose you may not understand it being of the nature you are, you may quite forget that I said anything at all. Worry yourself not about the fashionable attitudes, I'm sure your country manners will have their charm somewhere." She said, now rather tactlessly as she sneered a little more openly.
Elizabeth simply smiled, "oh no, I thank you, Miss. Bingley for your advising me. I will have no trouble at all, if I ever find myself in London society rooms and feel the need to appear fashionably bored, I need only think of you." She said succinctly before she sipped her tea and looked away. Caroline Bingley, red in the face and a look of murderous indignation in her eyes, drew breath as though she were about to breathe fire. Elizabeth, more out of pity than anything else, decided she would elaborate her statement in order to save the poor lady some embarrassment and said, "your advice, that is... of course." The amendment caused Caroline to bite her tongue, quite literally it seemed as her face began to look sickly and pained. The group of ladies to Caroline's right tittered and whispered about the development as they regarded Miss. Elizabeth somewhat warily. Caroline's face fell and took on a crimson hue as she heard the laughter at her expense and she looked as though she might say something but Mrs. Hurst, sensing her sister was very likely about to embarrass them all, took her wrist and drew her into conversation on an upcoming ball.
Elizabeth, who had avoided even glancing at Jane for she knew only too well the look of uncomfortable embarrassment she would be wearing, turned now to see her sister. Jane was blushing and looked to be embarrassed on behalf of all persons present. "Forgive me Jane, I do not think I have to ability to bear your new in-laws with equanimity let alone the good grace you do," she sighed. Jane looked at her disapprovingly but with a certain smirk underlying her features as she said, "it was very wrong of Caroline to put you in that position, Lizzy." Elizabeth saved her laughter for later when she and Jane took their leave, for now, she would acquaint herself with the 'accomplished' young ladies.
~oOo~
The following day the Bingley household was inundated with a consecutive flow of deliveries from milliners and modistes as ribbons and silk poured through the door. Despite all her protests against standing stock still as she was pricked and pinned before a mirror with ridiculous lengths of the finest silks and fabrics wrapped about her, Elizabeth could not deny that the gowns, shawls, gloves and various other items were exquisite and well worth the cost and time. Elizabeth lifted a length of silk ribbon from the box and let it slip between her fingers, it was the finest she had ever beheld and she watched it flutter from her hand back into the neatly arranged array of lace, velvet and Charmeuse satin. She laughed at the thought of what her mother would have to say when she returned home with such exquisite items, no doubt she would extol on the beauty of the lace and then deem it too good for Elizabeth, the girl who was so determined to remain a spinster. That, of course, was a falsehood, or at least a stretching of the truth, she had no design or desire to avoid marriage, she simply refused to go about it the wrong way, for the wrong reasons or, worst of all, for the wrong gentleman. If her mother had her way she would be Mrs. Collins right now, she shuddered at the thought. If it was a choice between that and a life as a spinster then she could only see the option of 'old maid' as a blessing. No, she could not find it in her to regret refusing Mr. Collins, if anything she regret having even had the opportunity to do so. She laughed at her own musings then, shaking the thoughts from her head, she called for her maid to help her dress for dinner.
The next morning she and Jane paid call to her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch street, they stayed for lunch whilst Bingley was at his club and left after securing the Gardiners promise to join them the following Friday for dinner. Elizabeth was beginning to grow accustomed to life with the Bingleys; she had her own time and her own private rooms and made a point of giving Jane and Charles time alone whenever they were both unoccupied. She would walk in the mornings through Hyde Park, though it could never replace her dear lanes and fields at Longbourn, she wrote letters, read more than she would have dreamed she would ever have time for and, quite surprisingly, she made a valiant effort to improve her skill at the pianoforte. She continued with her Latin studies, though she had to buy some less than accurate books as her new brother's library was rather lacking and found herself correcting the works more than anything else. All this, however, proved to be enough to keep her thoughts focused on light topics; the books she had read, the stitch she was learning or how long it may take her to master a particularly difficult section in a piece of music and then . She let her mind be consumed by frivolous topics and bored into submission because she was still acutely aware that, if allowed, her musings would eventually turn to topics which she didn't wish to dwell upon, those subjects which she had sought reprieve from. A letter from Charlotte one Tuesday managed to put her into contemplation on these exact topics, she had been writing to tell her about life as a Collins and living under the patronage of Lady Catherine De Bourgh. The depiction of her life could not but turn Elizabeth's mind to considering how she would have borne such a situation, she could only imagine what Mr. Collins considered a marriage if his proposal was anything to go by, and could feel herself physically recoil from the idea of not only sharing a home with the man, but sharing his bed. She shuddered violently and then placed the letter back into her reticule, she sat on a semi-secluded bench in the park, her mind drifting from the present as her attention was drawn back to more palatable points of her friend's letter. She could not help but feel sorry for Charlotte, no matter how much she insisted that she was 'quite content' it was clear that she was becoming increasingly aware of the folly in her choice.
Her mind, given free reign for a time, naturally drifted to other topics she had been avoiding; she was content at present to simply pretend that the past few months had not occurred, that Lydia was being silly and ridiculous at home, not Newcastle, that she and Jane were still together at Longbourn and that her mother and father were equally unchanged. There was something unsettling about the amount of variation which had recently occurred and if she were honest it was because of the change in her, or lack thereof. She was no longer so certain of herself; after her trusting Wickham at face value and then being confronted with the truth of his profligate ways, her confidence in her discernment of character was shaken. After her father's indolent attitude convinced him to snatch up the opportunity of a reprieve from Lydia no matter the possible consequence, her faith in him was crushed. After a sickening display of 'love' from her odious cousin, her hopes at love or even felicity in marriage were dampened severely, not to mention Lydia's disgrace lessening her chances further. And now she didn't even have Jane to truly confide in, not like they used to, there would be no more late night conferences held in each other's chambers, she was no longer Miss Jane Bennet of Hertfordshire, Elizabeth's eldest sister and best friend. No, she was Mrs. Bingley of Netherfield Park and Elizabeth could not complain in the face of her sister's long desired and much deserved happiness. She smiled slightly as she looked out of the park in the direction of the street to the Bingley's townhouse and sighed. There was a decidedly great amount of change around her and it certainly had an effect, but she could not help but notice that the lack of change for and to herself was enough to at least irk her. She was most certainly not idle by nature and found no pleasure in perpetual peace and quiet as her father did, her stagnant situation was beginning to bother her and then and there she resolved to either find or devise distractions so as to keep her recalcitrant thoughts from straying back to such melancholy musings.
Elizabeth managed to fool herself into thinking that by facing such thoughts she was brave, that she had come to terms with what had been bothering her, eating at her and plagued her for so long. But it was, of course, a farce. For what she would not acknowledge, was that there was something, or rather someone, who played upon her mind more than all else, someone who, by some twisted design of fate, he had become irrevocably entwined with her life since that abominable night in Meryton's assembly rooms. In truth, he was never far from her thoughts since Jane and Bingley's wedding, since she had insulted him so thoroughly, but was in fact an enigma which she questioned so frequently that it was no longer odd or even noticed. He had been such a constant presence for so many months now and so involved with the major events of recent that it was difficult to think of anything and not think of him. She had resolved to apologise and extend the olive branch the next time they met, she could only hope that he would accept it and not throw it back in her face as she had done to him, though, if perfectly honest, she rather hoped that they would not have the opportunity to make peace at all. It seemed, however, that fate had different ideas and with its rather sardonic sense of humour created such an opportunity sooner than either party would have expected.
~oOo~
Darcy prowled his private sitting room and stalked to the fire whereupon he kicked one of the protruding pieces of wood with a newly polished shoe. His valet winced as he saw his work dusted with soot and ash and cleared his throat as he approached Darcy with his dinner jacket in hand.
"Thank you. You may have the rest of this evening off, I'll see to myself tonight," Darcy said graciously.
"Very good, Sir," was all the reply to be heard before the valet removed himself from the room with a practiced stealth.
Darcy stared at the flames before him as the valet left the room, "so this is to be the grand re-entry. Ha! Into what? Polite society? The great reunion with my peers and dear old 'friends'," He sneered as the thoughts rushed through his mind of the kind of social engagements he knew to expect and the sort of personage he would be confronted with. After he had been so properly humbled he refused to look down on people who were worthy of consideration, he had seen his error on judging a man by his pocket book or social position but in doing so he changed what he saw as worthy. He had always judged a man by what he could achieve and what he did with his time and by this decided on how much he would trust said man. However, he had made a fatal error in his judgement concerning to what degree he would know this man, a man could be a tenant on his land, John Phelps, for example, a hard working man with a good heart who had been at Darcy's aid whenever needed for business about the estate, he was intelligent and discerning but kind to all and eager to work. This was the kind of man to be trusted and trust him he did, associate with him? Never. This was where he had gone wrong, he knew countless numbers of men who were 'beneath him' because of their circles in society but who he counted among some of the best men he knew. In fact he had actually been audacious enough to consider his friendship with Bingley an act of condescension on his part, of course he rid himself of this idea after a few months in Bingleys jovial company, but he had thought himself rather charitable at the beginning. He laughed a mirthless laugh at his musings, kicking the fire further as he rested his forehead against his fist which was pressed against the mantle. After realising just how few of his 'social equals' he actually held in high esteem for their character and not there status and connections Darcy began to list the names of those outside of his own social sphere who he considered worth knowing and was rather surprised to find the list rather extensive. He made a new resolve then and there; he would not be coerced into acquaintanceships with people who he could not abide simply because they had matching bank accounts or a trivial title before their name. This, however, made his efforts to re-acquaint himself with peers and persons of his social 'ilk' rather unappealing. Oh, he could not condemn them all for simply being rich, just like he couldn't look down on John Phelps for being poor. No, he would go into society and see his fellow man for the person they are then choose to know them or not, and damn their social status.
He stood a little taller upon recalling his resolve, he had always felt ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers; he had not the talent of conversing easily with those he'd never seen before. He found he was inept at catching their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as often seen done. He would not perform to strangers or pretend to be vastly interested in everyone and everything, he would never be a Bingley, but he would make the effort to know those worth knowing.
Darcy may not have pulled himself very far out of the hole of perpetual misery but he certainly had begun making efforts to avoid subjecting anyone else to his petulance. Richard had been back time and time again and it had taken the disarming honesty of his sister to pull him from his spiral into an early demise. He was decidedly ill-prepared to venture back into society, he had barely left the house these past weeks save for business and family demands. He and Georgiana had managed to share more and more time together and began to heal what rifts had been wrought by his neglect, they spoke more and more openly now and he was deeply grateful for it. He shook his head, feeling a little lighter at his thoughts of Georgie, before he sighed and left the room.
~oOo~
Elizabeth sat before her dressing mirror, the young maid Jane had appointed her was discussing the various styles she was best at as she animatedly described the methods she used. Elizabeth listened politely before she demurred and insisted that her usual style would suffice but at the instant look of disappointment on the young girl's face she spoke again. "Well, perhaps something new wouldn't hurt. What would you recommend, Sophie?" The maid smiled and grew twice as animated as before her disappointment. Elizabeth laughed, rejoicing in the young abigail's enthusiasm.
After an hour's deliberation and dressing Elizabeth was ready with just enough time to assess the work of the girl. She stood before the long mirror of her dressing room in an elegant dinner gown, it was one of the first purchases she had made; it had a flattering cut to it and was of a very fine material, it was a pearl white with a deep green overlay of sheer fabric which separated at the front to display the beautiful pale silk beneath. Her ribbons were a pale gold satin and complimented the gold thread which Sophia had woven through her locks and her hair was styled in a way which complimented her face without over being overdone, in short, she looked beautiful. She laughed at her reflection, she looked every inch the lady, perfectly primped and dressed for an evening entertaining guests, she looked just like the women she had laughed about who's first concern was their appearance, followed closely by their pin money. She thanked Sophia again before the now beaming and very proud maid left her alone. She then turned back to examine the woman in the mirror, she tilted her chin up and turned her head from side to side as she assessed herself. She was rather pleased, she had to admit, Sophia was talented and had done well with her hair and dress, she looked rather well, she conceded. She took one last look at her face and, upon deciding that her hair actually looked too perfect, she freed a few curls from the nape of her neck and just above her temple. She laughed at the result as she immediately recognised her own self now in her less reserved state and then left to find Jane. Both Mr and Mrs Bingley were on the landing; Mr. Bingley was leaning in close to his wife who stood just outside of her door and whispering his appreciation of just how stunning his Jane looked. Lizzy laughed to herself and decided to descend the stairs alone before the guests arrived.
She let her hand travel down the grain of the dark wood on the banister as she kept her eyes fixed on her ivory satin slippers, a warm, contented smile lifting the corners of her pretty mouth and her freed curls dancing about her face and neck. There were few sights in this world which could make her happier than seeing her dearest sister so radiant and blithe and her own pleasure in it was evident upon her face as she made her way down each step.
A footman stood at the front door as he took the gentleman's hat, coat and gloves, "I will inform Mr Bingley of your arrival, Sir, if you would like to await him in his study, Mr. Darcy," the footman intoned. Darcy stood stock still, he'd arrived a few minutes early, hoping to speak to Bingley before the rest of the guests arrived, walking through the door which was held open by the footman, he removed his hat, coat and gloves, handed them over and then looked up. He had looked up automatically, there was no noise or sight which prompted it, he simply had and what he was presented with was a sight even his vivid imagination could not conjure up. She walked deftly and silently as though floating, her dress trailed ever so lightly on the step behind her as she descended, giving a fleeting glimpse of her small ankles and soft satin slippers. His eyes travelled up where the fabric rested close to her curves and its colour gave a brilliance to her skin, a pale gold ribbon wrapped around her small waist and drew the eye. Her long, slender neck was caressed by the dark curls which escaped the elegant hairstyle as she bent her head forward to look down at the stairs. Her face, that beautiful, sweet, wonderful, witty face he had missed so acutely was graced with a pink tint to her cheeks and a small, secret smile played upon her perfect lips. He was entranced, nothing could have pulled him from his stupor at that moment, he wasn't even vaguely aware of the footman giving him directions. In that moment he felt a host of emotions wash over him, drowning his senses; fear, lust, disbelief, hope, despair and, most prominently, love. Unequivocal, indisputable and completely irreversible love.
"I will inform Mr Bingley of your arrival, Sir, if you would like to await him in his study, Mr. Darcy," the footman repeated, a little self consciously. Elizabeth's head flew up at the sound of the name, he heart raced and her breath caught, if she were less of a lady she had a few choice oaths which would have suited the situation well. She wasn't prepared; she had thought she would have time to think of something to say, something which would make having to spend time in one another's company bearable. But what could she say, she didn't know this man, her impression of Mr. Darcy had been false, based on a fictitious past devised by a cad and a slight against her looks, which he had in fact apologised for. No, she did not know the man who her family owed their reputation to but she knew she owed him her sincerest apologies, not to mention upwards of twelve thousand pounds. She stopped short on hearing his name and the hand which was so lightly resting on the banister now clutched it for support, her eyes found his from across the hall and her mouth fell slightly open as she blinked through her confusion.
It was her eyes which broke his spell, he had been taking in every inch of her whilst he knew she hadn't seen him yet and though his main thoughts were quite simply on her stunning appearance, there was the cognizant realisation at the back of his mind which told him she had agreed to see him, she was here and must have known they would meet and yet here she was, willing to be in the same room as him. He didn't care if she was indifferent to him, she would see him, she was willing, or so he thought. But as her head flew up and her eyes found his the look of sheer shock on her features dashed those silent musings in a second with a sharp stab in the chest to verily snuff out any lingering hope. His heart pounded so forcefully that he was sure she could hear it, but, being a gentleman, he shook off his disappointed hopes, his shattered dreams, gathered the shards of hid broken heart and found his voice. "Miss. Bennet, I was not expecting to see you, I... did you... Good evening," he said with immense discomfort before he resorted to a very formal but very safe bow. He wanted to put her at ease, let her know that he hadn't come knowing that she was staying here otherwise he would have never put her in such a position.
She heard it quite differently, unfortunately for them both, and assumed he had not expected her presence and had no desire to see her, how could he after the abominable way she spoke to him? He had every right to hate her, she suddenly felt deeply guilty for being there at all. "I am visiting my sister and Mr. Bingley," she said nervously.
"Yes, quite... and the rest of your family, they are well?" He said as he glanced about, unable to look into her eyes for fear of losing his voice again.
"Yes, thank you, Sir."
"And Mr and Mrs. Bingley, I trust are well?" he said, gesturing to nowhere in particular.
"Very well," she said, finally glancing back at him.
"And your mother and father... they are...well?" He shifted on his feet and cleared his throat as if in an attempt to dislodge sane conversation.
Elizabeth laughed gently as she realised the discomfort they were both feeling, she took a deep breath and came to the bottom of the stairs before she spoke again. "My family are all very well, Sir... Thank you," she spoke the last words conscious of just how much she had to thank him for and tried to convey it and her contrition all at once. The effect was strained and confusing, he looked at her questioningly for a moment and she turned her head to look towards the drawing room door, the ceiling, the floor, the candelabra on the table at the wall, anywhere but him. He noticed her evident distress and felt a sharp pain at the reminder of her distaste for him, it was strong enough to pull his gaze from her and back to the footman who stood beside him. "Would you let Mr. Bingley know I am here, please? I will await him in his study," he said to the man. The footman looked a little confused but the expression was fleeting before he schooled his features and replied the affirmative and went off in search of his master, even after 10 years in service he couldn't quite understand the nonsense of the English gentry.
Elizabeth had taken the short time to recover some of her senses and she spoke abruptly, "are you staying for dinner, Mr. Darcy?" her voice was unsteady.
He heard her distress at the prospect of enduring his company and wanted nothing more than to put her at ease, but what could he say? It was too late to decline now. "I am. Bingley invited me yesterday." He swallowed and gave a cursory glance about the hall. "It has been some months since I saw him and..."
"Of course," She broke in. "He thinks very highly of you," she said quietly. "I..." She began a little louder, "imagine the separation is felt strongly, since you've already told me he doesn't correspond very diligently," She said, smiling self consciously with some of her wit returning. She wanted to tell him that she knew how fortunate Charles was to have a friend like Darcy, she wanted him to know that she knew how lucky her family was that he had been there to help them, but she couldn't. She had only just seen him again and things were already difficult enough, she knew she needed to apologise, but not in the opening conversation, surely?
Darcy was perplexed. One minute she was scarlet red and mumbling whilst she averted her eyes in every direction but his and now she was talking as though they were old friends. He stared at her for a moment, confusion on his brows, before he did what seemed to be the most rational thing to do. He gave a curt bow which was more a nod of his head and then walked through the study door, closing it behind himself.
Elizabeth drew in a fortifying breath as she raised her hands to her temples and then exhaled, throwing her arms out, her eyes seeking to ceiling, she then turned on her heal and made for the drawing room. Throwing herself through the door she grabbed the back of the first chair she encountered and leaned her full weight on it. "Lizzy," Jane's voice came from behind her, Jane Entered the room and took her sister's shoulder. "Lizzy, dearest what is the matter?"
"Oh. Nothing, Jane. I am overreacting... Mr. Darcy has come for dinner and I'm finding it difficult to swallow my pride," She laughed at the last statement as she turned to her sister.
Jane knew many things about her younger sister, some she had learned from growing up with her and some Elizabeth would tell her. She knew that Elizabeth had never held a very high opinion of Charles' best friend but her reactions to him were so very volatile that she was sure she had been excluded from an important piece of information. She was prevented from posing any questions on the subject as the sound of guests arriving disturbed their meeting. "Lizzy, Mr. Darcy is a very good man, just look at what he's done for our family. Please try and get along with him, for my sake," Jane pleaded before she gave her sister's hand a squeeze and left the room to join her already waiting husband to greet the guests.