Author's Note: This begins the same way as another story on here The Food of Love. I wrote this first, and then I came across the opening bit of dialogue later and started writing again, going in an entirely new direction.
"Come, Darcy, I must have you dance." Charles Bingley, the newest tenant of Netherfield Park chided his friend. "I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner."
"Bingley, you insisted I come tonight, and I informed you before we left that I would not dance," his friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy replied. "My head aches, yet if I had stayed behind, your sister would have insisted it was her duty to stay behind. Since that seemed the worse fate, I grudgingly came, but I told you I was not in a mood to dance."
"Darcy …" Bingley started.
"No, Charles," Darcy cut him off. "If you had told me there would be a dance tonight, I would have delayed my departure from London until tomorrow. I am here to help you learn to manage an estate, as requested. Your sister will never be my wife, despite her many efforts, and I was not going to risk her compromising me by staying at Netherfield. You know she would have tried if we both had remained."
"Darcy …" Bingley tried again.
"Go, Bingley, return to your latest 'angel' and her smiles." Darcy stated abruptly. "Leave me be to hold up the wall. I will be in better humor when I have rested, and my head no longer aches. I am tempted to call for the carriage and attempt to sneak out of this damned assembly and return to your estate."
Bingley grumbled but did finally walk away, returning to the fair-headed "angel" he had met that very night.
Darcy had not noticed the lady sitting just behind him and had not attempted to whisper, as Bingley would have never been able to hear him over the music. So, when he glanced around him, the two sets of eyes met for a moment and each colored slightly, clearly aware of the conversation that had been overhead.
"I am sorry your head aches," Miss Elizabeth Bennet said softly, standing and moving infinitesimally closer. "I know we have not been introduced, so forgive me for speaking, but I do have some headache powders here in my reticule that may help." As she spoke, she took out the packet and handed it to him surreptitiously.
"Thank you," he said, without really looking at her, but he took the proffered powder.
"I did not mean to listen to your conversation," said she, "but I could hardly avoid it either."
"No matter," he said, somewhat abashed to realize he truly had not minded that she overheard.
She started to walk away, mindful of the impropriety of speaking to the gentleman when they had not been introduced. His whispered, "I hope to speak to you again soon, miss," took her by surprise and she smiled at him. He was entranced by her rather brilliant smile, as it made her features much more pleasing.
"Ask your friend to have my sister do the honors when their dance is over," she threw over her shoulder as she continued to walk away, hoping the brief tête-à-tête was unobserved by the crowd, particularly by her mother. Looking around, it seemed her mother's attention was solely on Jane's progress on the dance floor with Mr. Bingley. She found her good friend Charlotte Lucas and began to talk about the assembly. Charlotte, who was older than Elizabeth and considered to be "on the shelf" by many, was a good friend, despite their difference in age.
They spoke teasingly of the dance, and Charlotte remarked on how taken their new neighbor seemed to be with Jane. "He's captured by her beauty to be sure," Charlotte remarked to Elizabeth. "If she wants to catch him, she will need to encourage him."
"Catch him?" Elizabeth cried. "Is he a fish to be caught? Surely you would not truly expect Jane to behave in such a way."
"Marriage is a chance regardless," Charlotte returned. "Better to know as little as possible of your potential partner in life before securing him. Longbourn is entailed, which makes an advantageous match that much more important for you and your sisters. If he is interested, she should show that she returns it, so he will marry her."
Both women fell silent, with Elizabeth sending a sharp look at Charlotte as she could not respond. The song ended, and Bingley and Jane were approaching their location. Darcy, feeling slightly better with the kindness bestowed to him, also began to move their way, which Elizabeth noticed of the corner of her eye. Jane and Bingley were both smiling at each other, and upon realizing they were being watched colored slightly. Charlotte and Elizabeth shared an amused look at the couple.
"Thank you for the dance, Miss Bennet," Bingley was saying. "Here are your friends – would any of you ladies care for a glass of punch."
All three women nodded, and Jane offered a quiet "Thank you," as Bingley moved to walk away.
Spying Darcy approaching, he turned back, and said, "Ladies, may I introduce you to my good friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? Darcy, meet Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Lucas."
Darcy bowed and the ladies curtseyed. "It is lovely to meet you all," his deep voice murmured. Abruptly, he turned to Miss Elizabeth said in his clear, deep voice, "Miss Elizabeth, are you free for the next dance?"
Bingley looked shocked, but Elizabeth demurred slightly and lowered her eyes, before softly replying, "Not the next, sir, but I am free for the one after that."
"Then may I have the honor of your hand for that set?" he asked. Seeing her nod and Bingley's shocked expression, he asked again, as if suddenly aware of himself. "Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas, may I claim a dance with each of you as well?"
Both ladies answered in the affirmative, with Miss Lucas accepting the coming dance and Jane Bennet the next to last for the evening.
Half an hour later, the opening chords of a dance played, and Mr. Darcy held out his hand toward Miss Elizabeth. Both felt the brief spark of … was it electricity … when they touched. Despite the gloves they both wore, they each felt the warmth from the other's hand and a brief sensation of … something. To Darcy, he realized it was the same feeling he felt as when he saw Pemberley after returning home, a sense of belonging and homecoming. It was a wonderful feeling.
"Thank you for agreeing to dance with me," he whispered, as he led her toward the line.
She smiled up at him, "I thought you did not mean to dance tonight?"
"I did not, yet somehow could not help myself after our brief conversation earlier," he admitted, with a quirk of his lip that might have been the beginning of a smile.
She looked back at him archly, contemplating how to respond as the dance separated them for a moment. When it brought them back together, she asked gently, "Is your headache better?"
"Remarkably so," he admitted, with that sardonic half-grin again.
She looked back at him archly. "What the headache invented to excuse bad behavior?"
"Who behaved badly, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked. "Could it be due to someone else's behavior that causes my head to ache?"
"Ahh, well, I cannot deny that at times, the actions of others have affected by disposition – particularly some members of my own family." Now it was her turn to quirk her lip at him. "And a time or two I have developed a sudden headache to avoid an uncomfortable situation."
"So," he arched a look at her, "are you prone to this sort of dissembling?"
"Dissembling?" she cried. "You wouldn't be attributing to me what you are doing yourself."
"No, my head honestly did hurt earlier," he said gravely. "Between avoiding unwanted attention and … ah … worrying over another situation, my head was aching, rather badly. But I found myself presented with a temporary reprieve and it has lifted my spirits."
"Hmmm, unwanted attention," Elizabeth laughed. "What a problem, sir."
"You have no idea," he remarked dryly. Then he continued, speaking softly, almost to himself, "Most women see the material things marriage to me could offer them – the grand estate and my income … few bother to look past that to the man I am. Many, it seems, desire to be 'Mistress of Pemberley' and chase the status that it would bring." He frowned, glancing at her as though he had not meant to say that part out loud. "I am merely tired of the chase."
She looked at him, catching his eye and seeing the sad look contained in it. Their eyes maintained their contact for a moment longer, before the dance separated them.
When they came back together, she offered a whispered apology, "I am sorry the gossips even here have speculated about you and your friend. Unfortunately, my mother and the other ladies here will speculate and talk about any single men who enter the neighborhood, as we seem to have a shortage of available gentlemen in our town. As soon as you appeared tonight, several mothers sought to claim you for their unmarried daughters."
"That is not exactly unique to a country town," he said, seeking to reassure her. "The mothers of the ton are quite adept at gossip and matchmaking as well; in fact many are rather adept at it."
"Still, it must be difficult to be judged solely on one's wealth," she asserted, but then added more softly, "… or the lack of it."
Again, the dance separated them, and they were both contemplative. As they came back to each other, she offered a lighter topic, "This topic is much too deep for a dance, sir. So, I will change it. How do you like Netherfield Park, Mr. Darcy? It has been some years since I have been there, but I remember it being a lovely home, although the previous owners overlooked the library. Will your friend remedy that?"
Darcy laughed, "The library has been very neglected. I am not sure that Bingley or his sisters will do much about that particular room, although I will admit, I will encourage him to do something about the neglect, if only to aid me during my stay here."
"Are you here to offer advice on the furnishing of the rooms then," she asked lightly.
"Bingley asked me to come to tutor him on the running of an estate," he stated modestly. "As I inherited mine more than five years ago and had been taught by my father to do so. Bingley hopes to eventually purchase an estate and Netherfield was ideal for learning it."
"How good of you to help," she mused, then added, "I am sorry that you lost your father at such a young age."
"Wha…" he faltered. "How did you know that I lost my father?"
"You said you inherited five years ago and spoke of him teaching you in the past tense," she stated clearly. Then more softly, she added, "and your eyes when you spoke of him were sad, as though you missed him greatly."
He looked at her sharply, uncertain of how to proceed. Most women would not have picked up so much from his conversation, except that he was single and wealthy. Few women he had encountered among the ton would have even considered offering sympathy for a loss five years ago. Again, as the considered this thought, neither spoke for several more moments, as they made their way through the dance. Each time his eyes sought hers, he noted the true sympathy in them.
Quietly, she said to him, "I am sorry to have reminded you of your sorrows. Do you have other family?"
"A younger sister," he almost bit out. "My mother is also gone; she died when Georgiana was four."
"How old is she now?" she asked.
"Fifteen."
"I am truly sorry for both of you," she murmured. "As much as my mother sometimes pains and mortifies me, I cannot imagine her or my father being gone from my life. Nor can I imagine how difficult it must be to have the responsibility of caring for a much younger sibling. My sisters are all close to my age, but I cannot imagine being responsible for them. It must have been much more difficult as not only did you have to see to her, but you also had the care of your estate and your tenants dropped upon you as well."
"I share her guardianship with my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam," he hesitated. "Neither of us are all together … certain when it comes to raising a teenage girl." Darcy was still astounded that this woman seemed to think of his estate not in terms of its wealth, but in terms of the responsibility.
She laughed. "Miss Darcy is, what, at least ten years younger than yourself?"
He nodded. "Closer to 12," he said.
"I imagine that would be a challenge, sir," she remarked. "Having no brothers, I can imagine how difficult it would be to guide someone if I had no notion of what they were going through myself."
"Tell me of your family, Miss Elizabeth," he said, abruptly changing the topic. "You have a mother and a father, and I have met your older sister."
"I am the second of five daughters," she offered with an arched brow. "My father's estate is called Longbourn, which is adjacent to Netherfield Park. You met, Jane, the eldest of us, and then there are Mary, Catherine, and Lydia after me. My mother has declared us all in desperate need of husbands as quickly as possible, so all five are out at once. Lydia is far too young to be out, at just barely 15, but Mama would not hear of her waiting and Papa simply chooses to follow the path of least resistance." Her tone at the end was equal parts bitter and mortified.
"Why do you all need husband as quickly as possible," he inquired with a question in his eyes.
She threw him a look, but when he appeared genuinely interested and not challenging, she sighed and said, "Papa's estate is entailed. None of my sisters may inherit, so a distant cousin will instead. Mama constantly bemoans the entail and worries that when Papa, who by-the-by is perfectly healthy, dies, this cousin will throw us out into the hedgerows to starve."
He looked surprised, "Have you no other family?"
"Yes, an uncle here in Meryton, who is a solicitor, and my uncle Gardiner is in trade in London," she said, continuing to watch him to see how he responded to this news. "Both have assured Mama they will take care of her and us when and if the time comes, but Mama doesn't hear it. I think she prefers to view herself as ill-used due to the entail."
"But you said your father is well?" he asked.
"Yes, he is hale, but Mama is … she prefers to … oh, I do not know how to explain this," she said. "She fancies herself nervous and does not deal well with things she does not understand. I am sorry … I should not be saying any of this to you." Her face turned scarlet as she realized the things she was revealing about her family.
The dance was ending. He took her hand and placed it on his arm as he escorted her back to her sister and his friend. "I am glad you confided in me," he said quietly. "I enjoyed speaking to you as we did. By chance …" he hesitated briefly, "by chance, can I claim another dance from you tonight?"
"There will be speculation and gossip from my neighbors," she pointed out. "My mother worst of all and she will crow about the forthcoming engagement."
"I find myself not caring about the gossip it may raise," he replied, watching for her reaction.
"Then neither do I, but I will have you know the only dance I still have open is the last."
"Perfect," he said genuinely smiling at her, revealing his dimples. "He is beautiful when he smiled," Elizabeth thought, coloring once again at her thoughts.
When they arrived beside Bingley and Jane, the four spoke for a time before jane was claimed for her next dance. Bingley asked Elizabeth to dance, and Darcy stood and watched them. This pattern continued through the rest of the dance. Darcy did not dance again until the next to last, which he danced with Jane, and then, finally, it was time for him to dance with Elizabeth again. Since Bingley was also to dance with Jane, the four of them proceeded to the dance floor and stood next to each other as they finished the night.
One person in the room was decidedly not happy. Caroline Bingley had been upset when Mr. Darcy told her in the carriage that he would not dance with her, and then to see him dancing with those Bennet girls made her even more furious. Charles appeared quite taken with Miss Jane Bennet, which was bad enough, but Mr. Darcy was making a fool of himself over her younger sister was not to be borne. She would do something to fix them both, she thought to herself. She knew that there was no one else in the room who was a well-dressed or as suited to Mr. Darcy as she was, and she would not allow some country chit to replace her as the future Mistress of Pemberley.
Her sister Louisa Hurst saw all these thoughts on her sister's face. She had repeatedly warned Caroline that setting her cap at Mr. Darcy was never going to bear fruit. She and Charles had both told Caroline that Mr. Darcy would never offer for her, but Caroline ignored them all. Louisa whispered to her husband who stood near her that they would need to watch Caroline carefully while they were here.
"You may want to speak to Mr. Darcy and warn him," Louisa told her husband. "He has told Charles before that he would not offer for her even if she was compromised, but he should be careful anyway. Perhaps advise him that having his valet sleep in the same room wouldn't go amiss while he is here."
"Darcy should not have to do that to avoid her," Hurst replied. "Charles needs to send her away."
"I am afraid he will not do that until after she has done something to ruin herself," Louisa worried. "Nothing we have said to her has kept her from repeatedly throwing herself at him.
"Let us start by taking her back to Netherfield before she does something we will regret," Hurst suggested. "Perhaps you could feign a headache?"
"If you can let Charles know?" Louisa said to him. "I will collect Caroline. Let him know we will send the carriage back for him."
Hurst moved closer to the dancers and motioned to Charles to join him when he could. Louisa moved to Caroline and told her, "I am not feeling well. Mr. Hurst and I are going back to Netherfield, and I need you to go with me."
"I am not leaving until Mr. Darcy asks me to dance," she pouted.
"He told you in the carriage, after your many hints, that he was not going to dance with you tonight," she advised. "If you are waiting on him to ask, you will be here long after the assembly is over."
"I will not leave," Caroline stubbornly refused.
"If I leave, you will stand or sit here alone for the rest of the evening," Louisa pointed out. "You will not bother speaking to anyone and they will avoid you due to the scowl on your face. Do you really think that will be better than going back to Netherfield early?"
"I do not want to ever step foot in that awful place again," Caroline complained. "I am returning to London tomorrow, and you will all have to join me there. Charles cannot possibly stay here without me!"
"Well, then, let us go ahead and return so we can begin packing," Louisa complied.
Both women headed toward the front of the building. Louisa requested their carriage to be brought around while they retrieved their wraps.
Hurst joined them as the carriage was being called. He told his wife, "I told Charles that we would send the carriage back for him and Darcy."
Caroline smiled in the darkness. What if the carriage did not go back for them? They would have to walk back to Netherfield in the dark. Charles was always disobliging, and Darcy had refused to dance with her. It would serve both of them right for their ill use of her that evening. She would tell the servants to return the carriage to the stables.
Hurst noticed her smile and wondered what she was going to do. He did not say anything to Louisa but was even more determined to watch to see what she would try.
At Netherfield, Hurst got out of the carriage first and then handed out his wife. Caroline refused his hand when offered and followed behind them slowly. She dropped something and stopped to pick it up, calling to them to go on ahead of her. Hurst continued but kept watch to see what Caroline would do. When she thought they were inside, she spoke to the coachman who showed surprised at what she said to him. The coachman headed toward the stables instead of turning it back around toward town, and Hurst just looked at his wife and told her what he suspected.
A moment later, Caroline came inside looking very pleased with herself. The three separated – the ladies to their rooms and Hurst claimed he needed a drink before bed. He snuck out a different door and went to the stables. There, he saw the horses being unharnessed and the carriage put away. He sighed and asked a groom to saddle three horses. He told the groom to ride one and lead the other two to the assembly rooms to await Bingley and Darcy. He hoped they wouldn't mind riding back – it would be far better than the walk that Caroline had clearly intended.
That task complete, he realized he might be better off speaking to Darcy's valet himself that relying on a message. He asked the housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls, where the keys for the guest rooms were kept and for the location of Darcy's room.
In Darcy's room, he found the valet. "Marston, is it not?" Hurst said to the man.
"Yes, sir," the valet replied. "What can I do for you?"
"I have not spoken to Darcy yet, but it may be in his best interest for you to sleep down here rather than upstairs." Hurst stated bluntly. "Caroline is in a fury, and I worry what she may try."
Marston smiled blandly. "I appreciate the warning, but Mr. Darcy had already asked that I do just that, and I already have a cot set up in the dressing room. Most of the time, when we stay in a home where an unmarried female lives, Mr. Darcy requests that I stay close. However, since the last time your family was at Pemberley, any time we are in the same house as Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy not only locks all the doors and has me sleep near, but he also moves furniture in front of the door."
Hurst grinned at this. "Good man, Marston. I am glad to know Mr. Darcy has you watching out for him."
"Good night, sir," Marston replied impassively. He knew why the furniture went in front of the door. Obviously, Hurst had not heard that story, but he knew Bingley was aware of it. Darcy took extraordinary steps to avoid being alone with Miss Bingley, and a part of him wondered why he continued to subject himself to it.