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.
Chapter 1"Come, Darcy, I must have you dance." Charles Bingley, the newly arrived tenant of Netherfield Park, chided his friend who had accompanied him to the assembly that night. "I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner."
"Bingley, you insisted that I come, and I informed you before we left your home that I would not dance tonight, so leave me be," his friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, stated. "My head aches, yet had I stayed behind, your sister would have insisted it was her duty to stay as well. As that seemed a worse fate, I grudgingly came along, but I told you I was not in a mood to dance."
"Darcy …" Bingley started.
"No, Charles," Darcy cut him off. "Had you 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 you requested, and for no other purpose. Despite her efforts, Miss Bingley will never be my wife, and I will not risk her attempting to compromise me by remaining alone in her company."
"Darcy …" Bingley tried again to cajole his friend.
"No, Bingley, go and return to your latest "angel" and her many smiles," Darcy stated abruptly. "Leave me be to hold up the wall. I will be in a better humor when I have rested and my head no longer aches. I am tempted to call for the carriage to sneak out of this damned assembly and return to your estate and sleep; I would if I thought I could do so without it being noticed."
Bingley grumbled but finally walked away, returning to the blonde woman he had met that night. Since Bingley met a new angel every other month and typically lost interest just as quickly, Darcy rarely paid them much attention.
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 and their eyes met for a moment, 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 have some headache powders in my reticule that might help." As she spoke, she took out the packet and handed it to him surreptitiously.
"Thank you," he said, without really looking at her, he took the proffered powder.
"I did not mean to listen to your conversation," said she, "but I could hardly avoid it either. I do apologize."
"It does not matter," he said, somewhat abashed, but quickly realized he honestly 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 formally introduced. His whispered, "I hope to speak to you again soon, miss," took her by surprise, and she turned to smile at him. Her rather brilliant smile entranced him, making her features very striking. "Perhaps I can entice my friend to introduce us later," he offered as she began to walk away.
"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 had been unobserved by the crowd, particularly by her mother. Looking around, it seemed her mother's attention had been on Jane's progress on the dance floor with Mr. Bingley, so she approached Charlotte Lucas and began to chat about the assembly. Charlotte, who was older than Elizabeth and considered to be "on the shelf" by many in the neighborhood, was a good friend, despite the seven-year difference in their ages.
They spoke teasingly of the dance, and Charlotte remarked on how taken their new neighbor seemed to be with Jane. "He is captured by her beauty, to be sure," Charlotte told 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. You know she is shy."
"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 his interest so he will quickly marry her and secure the future for all of you."
Both women fell silent, with Elizabeth settling for sending a sharp look at Charlotte as she did not know how to respond to such a comment. The song ended, and Bingley and Jane began approaching their location. Starting to feel slightly better for the kindness bestowed on him, Darcy also began to move that way. Elizabeth noticed his approach, having kept an eye on the handsome gentleman since their brief conversation. Jane and Bingley were grinning at each other, and upon realizing others were watching them, both colored slightly. Charlotte and Elizabeth shared an amused look at the pair.
"Thank you for the dance, Miss Bennet," Bingley said. "Here are your friends – would any of you ladies care for a glass of punch?"
All three women nodded and offered a quiet "thank you" as Bingley moved to walk away.
Spying Darcy approaching, he turned back and quickly began the introductions before his friend could decline: "Ladies, might I introduce you to my good friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? Darcy, meet Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Lucas."
Darcy bowed, and the ladies curtseyed. "It is lovely to meet you all," his deep voice murmured. Then, abruptly, he turned to Miss Elizabeth and said in his clear, deep voice, "Miss Elizabeth, are you free for the next dance?"
Bingley looked shocked, given his friend's earlier declaration that he would not dance. Elizabeth hesitated briefly and gazed into his eyes briefly before softly replying, "Not the next, sir, but I am free the one after that."
"Then might I have the honor of your hand for that set?" he asked. Seeing her nod and Bingley's shocked expression, he spoke again as if suddenly aware of himself. "Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas, might I also claim a dance with each of you?"
Both ladies answered in the affirmative, with Miss Lucas accepting the dance that was about to begin while Miss Bennet accepted for the next to last dance for the evening.
When the opening chords of the new dance played half an hour later, Mr. Darcy held out his hand to Miss Elizabeth. Both felt the brief spark of … was it electricity? … when they touched and started slightly. Despite their gloves, each felt the warmth from the other's hand and a brief sensation of … something. Darcy realized it was the same feeling he felt when he saw Pemberley after returning from a time away - a sense of belonging and homecoming. It was an incredible feeling, making him pay closer attention to his partner than was his wont.
"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. "I found myself wanting to become more acquainted with you."
She looked 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. "Was the headache invented to excuse bad behavior?"
"Whose bad behavior, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked. "Could it be someone else's poor behavior that caused my head to ache?"
"Ahh, well, I cannot deny that the actions of others have occasionally affected my own 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 would not 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 when I entered the hall. But I found myself presented with a temporary reprieve, and it has lifted my spirits."
"Hmmm, unwanted attention," Elizabeth laughed. "What a problem to have, sir."
"You have no idea," he remarked dryly. Then he continued, speaking softly, almost to himself, "Surely you heard the gossip when my friend and I entered tonight. Most women see the material things marriage to me could offer them – the grand estate and my income – few would bother to look past that to the man I am. Many, it seems, desire to be 'Mistress of Pemberley' and chase the status 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 being chased."
She looked at him, catching his eye and seeing the sad look contained in it. Their eyes maintained their contact for a moment before the dance separated them.
When they came back together, she offered a whispered apology, "I am sorry the Meryton gossips began to speculate about you and your friend the moment you entered. 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 – my own mother being among the worst of them."
"That is not exactly unique to a country town," he replied, seeking to reassure her. "The mothers of the ton are equally adept at gossip and matchmaking; in fact, many are rather proficient at it."
"Still, it must be difficult to be judged on one's wealth," she asserted, but then added more softly, "… or the lack of it."
They were both contemplative while the dance separated them. 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 and ask, 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 seriously overlooked the library. Will your friend remedy that?"
Darcy laughed, "I have only had a brief glance, but I would agree that 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 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 here to tutor him on the running of an estate since I was trained by my father since I was a boy," he stated. "I inherited my own estate more than five years ago, and he knows the work I have put into managing it. 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 could you possibly know that I have 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 miss him greatly."
He looked at her sharply for a moment, uncertain of how to proceed, and then softened his gaze when he recognized the true look of sympathy in her eyes. Most women would not have picked up so much from his conversation except as confirmation that he was single and wealthy. Few women he had encountered among the ton would have even considered offering sympathy for any loss, much less one that occurred five years ago. He considered these thoughts as they made their way silently through the dance.
Quietly, she said to him, "I am sorry to have reminded you of your sorrows. Do you have other family?" she asked
"A younger sister," he nearly bit out, his mind still in turmoil whenever he thought about her. "My mother is also gone; she died when Georgiana was four."
"How old is she now?" she asked.
"Just fifteen," he replied. "I am more than ten years older than she."
"I am truly sorry for both of you," she murmured. "As much as my mother often 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 young girl on the cusp of womanhood." 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 it carried.
"I imagine that would be a challenge, sir," she remarked. "Having no brothers, I can only imagine how difficult it would be to guide someone if I had no notion of what they were experiencing."
"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 husbands 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 does not 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 what she was revealing about her family to someone she had just been introduced to that night.
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 as openly as we have. By chance …" he hesitated briefly, "by chance, might I claim another dance with you tonight?"
"That will incite speculation and gossip from my neighbors," she pointed out. "My mother will be the worst of all, and she will crow about the forthcoming 'engagement' that a second dance must surely indicate."
"I find myself not caring about the gossip it may raise," he replied, watching for her reaction.
"You will not have to live with it, sir," she said pointedly, then agreed. "If you do not care, then I can bear it, 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 smiles," Elizabeth thought, coloring once again at her thoughts.
When they arrived back beside Bingley and Jane, the four spoke for a time before Jane was claimed for her next dance. Bingley claimed Elizabeth for their dance, and Darcy stood and reluctantly watched them go knowing he would have to until the last set to dance with Miss Elizabeth again. Charlotte was free for this set, so the two of them enjoyed the punch and easy conversation while they watched the dancers.
One person in the room was decidedly unhappy about the turn of events. Caroline Bingley had been rather annoyed when Mr. Darcy told her in the carriage that he would not dance with her, and then to see him dancing with these local women made her quite angry. Charles appeared taken with Miss Jane Bennet, which was bad enough, but Mr. Darcy making a fool of himself over her younger sister was not to be borne. She knew there was no one else in the room as well-dressed or well-suited to Mr. Darcy as she, and no country chit was going to replace her as the future Mistress of Pemberley. As she watched Darcy dance, she was determined to do something to force him to realize it.
Louisa Hurst saw all these thoughts on her sister's face, especially after Darcy began to dance with Elizabeth Bennet. She had repeatedly warned Caroline that setting her cap at Mr. Darcy would never 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 nearby, that they would need to watch Caroline carefully while they were at Netherfield.
"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 would not go amiss while he is here."
"Darcy should not have to go to such lengths 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, despite his obvious lack of interest. I just hope that whatever she does will not ruin the rest of us along with herself."
"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 could let Charles know our plans," 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 returning to Netherfield, and I need you to accompany me."
"I am not leaving until Mr. Darcy asks me to dance," she pouted. "This is his second dance of the night - it would be rude for him not to dance with me."
"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 for him to ask, you will be here long after the assembly is over."
"I will not leave this early in the evening. There are still plenty of dances left," 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 continue to avoid you due to the scowl on your face. Do you really think that will be better than going back to Netherfield early? Besides, Charles wishes to establish himself in this area as the master of his estate, and your behavior will do him no favors."
"I do not want to step foot in that awful place ever 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 so the impression he leaves on these people will hardly be worth considering!"
"Well, then, let us go ahead and return so we may 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, telling his wife, "I told Charles 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?" she thought. "They will have to walk back to Netherfield in the dark. Charles has been so disobliging, and Darcy refused to dance with me. It would serve both right for their ill use of me!" She determined that she would tell the servants to return the carriage to the stables and do so without Hurst noticing as soon as they returned.
Hurst noticed her smile and wondered what she was going to attempt. He did not say anything to Louisa but was determined to watch her closely 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 along the way 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 was obviously surprised by what she said to him. When he noted the coachman heading toward the stables instead of turning it back around toward town, Hurst 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 to the library, claiming 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 than relying on a message. He asked the housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls, where the keys to the guest rooms were kept and for the location of Darcy's room.
Hurst went to Darcy's room, where he found his valet. "Marston?" 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 to block the entrance."
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. Darcy took extraordinary steps to avoid being alone with Miss Bingley, and his valet wondered why the master continued to subject himself to it.