Assembly Hall
Hertfordshire, England
The light in the room, though the dim of candlelight, burned Elizabeth's eyes slightly as she re-entered from the balcony. The noise momentarily deafening in contrast to the quiet from which she just came. It was overwhelming, and it engulfed her entirely.
But only for a moment.
When her vision cleared she was surprised to find her mother speaking with a tall, stately gentleman. His stance perfect as he leaned down to listen to Lady Bennet intently. She watched in stunned awe as her mother spoke animatedly, her face waffling between emotions quickly as she imparted some story upon the stranger. So engrossed in the odd scene, Elizabeth was startled to realize she had made eye contact with the gentleman. His eyes were the flat, cloudy blue of river stones and the sky just after a rain and before the sun had reappeared. They held no warmth.
He watched her gravely, eyes never wavering, as her mother continued rattling on happily. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly and he smirked, humorlessly, bordering on menacing. He started towards her, stalking, not sparing even a glance back to Lady Bennet as she huffed at his rude behavior.
Elizabeth froze.
But only for a moment.
Her sister Lydia, in all her nearly nude glory was dragged past her, giggling wildly, by a rather dashing man in a red coat. The connection broken, she looked to the approaching man with as much defiance as she could muster before turning on her heel before he could reach her.
Elizabeth suspected she knew who the man was and she was not one to balk at a strategic retreat.
She followed her sister and the red coated man through the crowded ballroom until she realized the two seemed to be heading in the direction of the exit.
Now, that was most certainly not going to happen.
It was far too cold and far too barren for them to take a stroll in the small garden lining the assembly hall. Elizabeth marched towards them, intent in her mission but was stopped by her second youngest sister Kitty.
"Lizzie!" Kitty cried and hugged her sister as tight as she could with her very large, very pregnant belly in the way. "I have missed you so!" Kitty went in for a second hug and Elizabeth lost some of the tension in her shoulders.
"I saw you yesterday, sister." Elizabeth accepted the hug and pulled out her handkerchief in preparation for what she knew was coming.
"I know." Kitty's lip quivered. "It is just that it has been so long." Her eyes started to water and Elizabeth handed her her handkerchief. "I have missed you so much. Abby misses you too, I just…" she trailed off, crying in earnest now.
"Kitty." Lizzie said affectionately and brought her in for a sideways embrace before looking around the room frantically, looking for Mr. Lucas, looking for the man who had been following her, looking for her youngest sister who looked suspiciously like she was preparing herself for a mistake.
came first.
"Here, darling, it's your fav- oh, what is the matter Kittydearest?" He had arrived right on time and carrying two glasses of the awful punch his family loved so dearly. He handed one glass to Elizabeth and put his free arm around his wife.
"I… have just… it is just… I have missed Lizzie so and..." she blew her nose loudly and sobered as she noticed the glass in her husband's other hand. "Oh! Is that punch?"
Mr. Lucas smiled wide and winked to Elizabeth over the top of his wife's head.
"She gets tearful the closer we get to her confinement." He patted her belly lightly and she nodded before finishing her glass.
Elizabeth giggled at the couple. "I love you, my dear sister. But I must go find our Lydia." She shook her head and looked back towards the exit. "I saw her sneaking off with an officer."
Kitty scowled and took the glass Elizabeth was still holding. "Go get her, sister. Bring her to me when you find her and I will deliver her a set down."
Lizzie raised her eyebrows high and smiled slowly. This was a very different Kitty.
Mr. Lucas chuckled happily, sounding incredibly like his father. "She is also far more spirited." He looked at her now smiling sister with unabashed adoration and Elizabeth melted for them.
She shook off the welcoming warmth of standing near so much love. She had another sister to either save or thrash and she had yet to decide which it would be.
She squeezed Kitty's arm. "I will return shortly" and turned towards the cold exit her sister had just quit. She saw Mr. Darcy watching her protectively and smiled, as much to herself as to the Duke, the warmth she had so recently lost returning quickly in a rush through her veins.
The garden outside the assembly hall was ill maintained at the best of times and not at all during the fall and winter. Sir William had commissioned the addition just after being knighted but did not think far enough ahead to its continued care. It was through the skeletal remains of shrubbery that she spotted a flash of bright red, giving away the lover's position before their poorly hushed whispers met her ear.
As she neared, the whispers became more coherent, every few words intelligible even from her distance.
She heard a sharp inhale and a pleading, defeated "No" followed by more hushed words and her feet sped of their own accord. When she reached the small alcove, surrounded by bramble, she saw her sister, frowning eyes but her face placid, and the red coated gentleman with a hand running down her stomach. The intimacy of the movement combined with her sister's pleas threw Elizabeth into a blind rage. She ran to them and, with the combined strength of her walker's legs and forward momentum, kicked the man as hard as she could in the shin. If her immediately throbbing foot were an indicator, she hit him very hard.
"Angckhhhh". The red coated gentleman yelled hysterically, turning and throwing a punch before he saw his "attacker". Elizabeth was nowhere near his attempted retribution.
"That is my sister!" Lydia shrieked indignantly before hitting the man with the palm of her hand directly in the nose as he had doubled over from the blow to the leg. Blood began gushing immediately and she stepped back quickly, narrowly avoiding ruining her new dress.
"You hit me!" He yelled to a now giggling Lydia, his voice was made whinier by his clearly broken nose.
"You tried to hit my sister!" Lydia looked to Elizabeth. "He didn't hit you, did he?" She looked like she was more than willing to finish the job had he done so. Elizabeth shook her head and Lydia smiled.
"She kicked me!"
"Volenti non fit injuria, I'm afraid." Elizabeth replied stubbornly.
"What does that even mean?" The N at the end of the word was drawn out painfully before devolving into a whistling sound as air came out of his now obstructed nasal passage.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but was forestalled by the Duke, coming to stand very close to her side. "It means you most certainly chose the wrong women to harm, Wickham." His voice was tinged with anger but he lost it as he looked down to Elizabeth. "You speak latin, Miss Elizabeth?"
She smiled up at him. "I do, indeed. French and Italian as well and I read Greek." At that last His Grace's face held an inexplicable glint. Elizabeth wasn't sure exactly what it meant but it made her entire being tingle.
Mr. Wickham's eyes had gone wide and his lip began to quiver at the first sight of the Duke, incoherent words tumbled from his mouth as they carried on their conversation.
"Wait." Elizabeth just realized what the Duke had called the blubbering, bleeding man before them. "The ?" The tall man moved closer to her and nodded, inclining his head slightly to the side but now not taking his eyes from Mr. Wickham.
"What are you doing here, Your Grace?" The last was said in as much a sneer as he was capable of giving but it failed to strike any sort of chord as he had yet to fully calm himself and his voice was pitched higher in fear.
"Your Grace?!" Lydia had a knack for shrieking. "He is a Duke?" She didn't wait for an answer and pulled her dress down further in the front before mechanically batting her eyelashes.
"Lydia!" Elizabeth admonished.
Lydia looked surprised for a breath before honestly blushing. "Sorry! Force of habit." She shrugged and pulled her dress back up to its intended position, covering far more than before.
"Lydia, go inside and retrieve Jane and the man hovering near her, please." Elizabeth didn't take her eyes off the bleeding Mr. Wickham but she saw her sister start to complain before stopping herself and moving to do as she asked.
There is still hope for that girl.
In the time it took for everyone to understand the situation, Wickham had regained some of his seemingly normal, cocky demeanor. He narrowed his eyes at the Duke's protective stance.
"You think to protect a lady from me?" He huffed a laugh haughtily. "Does she know what they call you? Huh? Cold Heart, isn't it? Does she know they laugh at you and your bird of paradise for a sister?" He tried for a mocking laugh but it sounded far too nasally to be anything but humorous.
Elizabeth was so near the Duke, she felt his entire body go rigid, his slight intake of breath audible to her for her nearness. She moved to surreptitiously squeeze his hand. She meant for a small show of support but he held hers fast, not letting go when she tried. She did not push him to.
"What I know" Elizabeth started angrily. " - and I do apologize, I left my handkerchief with my sister or I would offer it to you. You are rather a mess, I'm afraid." She smirked to him, annoyed with his taunting of her Duke. "But, what I do know is that this man" she inclined her head towards Darcy. "is the most honorable man of my acquaintance and the only one I would want with me in a tight situation." She raised her eyebrows to Wickham. "Whereas, I caught you molesting my sister after she pleaded for you to stop." She forced down the bile that rose in her throat at saying the words out loud and went instead for a mocking smile. "The same sister who has, I am quite certain given the horrific swelling, broken your nose." He started to say something but she cut him off. "That is what I know." She stepped forward menacingly. "And that is what matters. Now." She turned to the Duke who was wearing the oddest expression. "I believe this man has some information you and I need. How shall we go about obtaining it?" She winked to Darcy who's bewildered expression softened at her before hardening when he looked up to Wickham.
"Shall we see what Richard has learned while in Spain?" His voice was very nearly breezy, a sharp contrast to the stranglehold he had on her hand.
"I learned quite a lot, Cousin, would you like a demonstration?" The Major General sauntered up to the group, Jane in tow. For all his bravado, he looked back to Jane, a brief wave of sadness flowing down his face. She smiled sweetly to him and patted his hand in a gesture Elizabeth felt looked very much like comfort. In a move reminiscent of what his cousin had just done, his eyes warmed before hardening when he looked back to Wickham. "It has been a long time, Wickham. I see you have changed very little."
"Did they finally kick you out of the military, Fitzwilliam? You look pathetic out of red, it must have been the uniform all along."
"Ahhh, but I am just hunting. A wolf in sheep's clothing, nothing more." He smiled to Wickham who's taunting was only serving to make himself lose his cool.
"I am not afraid of you." He turned to the Duke, having to turn his entire torso to see him with his hand still holding his nose to curb the bleeding. "Or of you, you fools. You are both too soft and weak to-." Both men surged forward but it was too late, Wickham slumped down to the ground, out cold.
Jane's reticule rolled to the side of his face.
She looked just as surprised as the three sets of eyes turned on her. "I - I didn't mean to - he was -" She stopped sputtering when the Major General smiled at her affectionately and stood straight, chin raised. "I did not appreciate his words. You are the best of men." She looked to them both and nodded defiantly. "There is a skein of yarn in my reticule, we can tie his hands and feet with it and have him moved to wherever you deem appropriate." Three jaws dropped in unison. "What?" She asked innocently. "You have to come prepared!" She pleaded and three smiles split across three surprised faces.
This had become quite the night.
/
Elizabeth smiled to Jane as the warmth from the crowded ballroom chased away the last of her shivers from being out in the cold night air for so long. They had arranged for the Duke and the Major General to get Mr. Wickham back to Netherfield where they would hold him until he awoke and were able to question him further. She shook her head and widened her smile at Jane. Her sister was constantly surprising her and Elizabeth loved it more every time.
"Why are you smiling at me, Lizzie?" Jane whispered under her breath.
"What else is in your reticule, Jane? I could use a good book while I sit this dance out, do you have any poetry?"
Jane blushed a deep red and tried valiantly to hide a smile. "It is not my fault I am prepared, sister." Her blue eyes turned to Elizabeth with a sly look. "And, no poetry." She looked straight ahead and smiled to someone walking past before looking back to her sister. "It is a novel, if you must know."
Elizabeth laughed happily. Her sister was becoming far too adept at her new defiant stance. It was glorious.
Elizabeth was wrapped up in the joy that was her family so she missed, entirely, the crowd parting before her as the Duc made his way methodically to her. Her smile, indicative of her entire being, deflated immediately as she looked forward to find the tall gentleman standing before her, a sneer marring his otherwise handsome face.
"Mademoiselle." He bowed before her, and in a bold, attention gathering move, began to introduce himself. "I believe we have not yet been introduced, I have met your entire family" He looked at her pointedly as he emphasized the words. "but not you. Would you do me the honor?" He held out his hand and the glint in his eye was pure glee. He was happy to have cornered her, happy to taunt that he now knew her entire family - which was false but she did not feel the need to correct him. She froze as all eyes around her turned on the scene before them. The faux pas had clearly been calculated to minimize her chances of denying him a dance. It would only serve to bring more attention to herself. He was a Duke, he could get away with flaunting societal norms but a lowly country lady could not get away with denying him.
She grit her teeth, hard, every nerve ending firing simultaneously as her mind swirled with escape plans. She had been in far worse situations, in far less public places but this felt more dangerous than all of them combined. She opened her mouth hoping against hope something would come out which would extricate her from her predicament before a deep voice came from behind her.
"I apologize, Your Grace, but Miss Elizabeth promised me her last dance." He placed a possessive hand on her waist and pulled her tight to him. "Did you not, my dear?" Mr. Darcy had just gone far beyond the Duc's faux pas, far beyond propriety and well into a full public compromise and Elizabeth didn't even notice, so overwhelming was her relief.
"I believe you did, dearest." The endearment fell from her mouth naturally, easily, without conscious thought. Mr. Darcy's gaze heated as he watched her, then took her by the hand, nodded triumphantly to the Duc and led her to the floor.
They stared at each other, gazes locked, ignoring the low rumble of the crowd around them as the gossip and indignant outrage played out. A slow smile spread across Elizabeth's face as the contrast between the situation she had been prepared for and the feeling of warmth and safety and sheer joy she was experiencing now hit her hard. She was safe. She wasn't alone to deal with every problem she faced by herself. Not anymore.
"I could embrace you right now, Mr. Darcy." The happiness inside her swelled in her chest, nearly painful in its enormity.
"I would not be opposed to such an action, Miss Elizabeth." He smiled down to her and, as though it were possible, her heart ached further.
"Thank you." She said quietly. "How did you return so quickly?"
He shrugged. "Richard can take care of the… transportation. I didn't want to leave you alone with him." He nodded in the direction of the Duc.
"You are making a habit of coming to my rescue." She said quietly as they joined hands in time with the dance.
"This rescue is not without its consequences, Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth's eyebrows drew together, creating a confused line between them. "You don't think he will retaliate over a dance, do you?" She began looking around the room for the Duc only to meet the eye of everyone around her, gawking. It took her slow brain, drunk on happiness, far too long to realize what had just happened. Her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth.
Five years. Five long, hellish years she had snuck around London, breaking into homes, posing as scullery maids, hiding behind curtains and, even once, under a bed, and never once had she had her reputation tarnished.
She was ruined.
Tears swelled in her eyes, all her previous joy crashing to the floor.
"Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy whispered.
She looked back up to him, her mind occupied mourning for her reputation, replaying all the hard work and extra effort she had made previously to keep it intact and untarnished.
"Marry me." The soft words less a question and more a plea. Elizabeth found herself caught in the roiling storm of his eyes and nodded slightly. Even in her current, dumbfounded, state she knew there were far worse fates than being tied to a man she trusted with her life.
She should have known his next move would have been to pick her up bodily, his tall, lithe frame molding her to him perfectly but, damn, if it didn't take her by surprise. A laugh escaped her lips as she watched his face glow with happiness, the sound cut off quickly by his lips gently touching hers. Her small intake of breath seemed to echo through the crowd as gasps and shrieks and even a few chuckles surrounded her.
He looked up to the crowd, a conqueror looking over his peoples, and proclaimed loudly. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet has just made me the happiest of men. Congratulations are in order" He smiled down at her. "I have found my Duchess." His smile was wide and happy and completely unaware of the words he had just said out loud.
"Duchess?!" She heard her mother screech above the hum of the crowd. "Did he just say Duchess?!" She couldn't see but she could imagine her mother pushing her way through the crowd to get to them and confirm the Duke's words.
Elizabeth groaned and rolled her head forward to rest on His Grace's chest, closing her eyes and trying desperately to wish herself elsewhere.
This was the loveliest of nightmares.
/