A/N
If it so Happened - Story 2, Ch 4 and 5
Hope you enjoy. As usual will be waiting for your feedback. Please do let me know your thoughts. A big thank you to all those who did so for the last post. Your encouragement keeps me going 😊
Important NOTE: I will be posting the remaining chapters tomorrow and day after, And will remove the story for publication on 8th Aug, 9:30 AM IST
Cheers
N
If It So Happened
In Mr Darcy's Shoes
Chapter 4
May 1802, Darcy House, London
Elizabeth looked around the beautiful, elegantly furnished room in astonishment. From her grandmother's words, she had thought they would be visiting a place that would not usually be visited by gentlewomen. "This does not look like how I imagined a den of vice!"
Grandmother Bennet giggled. "That is because it is not a den of vice, you foolish girl! This is your future home. Darcy House in London."
"Oh!" Elizabeth flushed, but before she could say anything more, her attention was attracted by a voice full of ennui and insolence.
"So, Darcy, you turned eighteen yesterday and will be soon going to Cambridge. Did Uncle George give you a special birthday gift for the occasion?"
Elizabeth noticed that the young man who was speaking slurred his words, almost as if he was inebriated.
"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Raymore."
Elizabeth gave an involuntary gasp as she turned and beheld a much younger and almost unbearably handsome Mr Darcy. The man was very handsome even now, but in the boy…there was…an innocence…a wholesomeness in his striking countenance that tugged at her heart strings in a manner she would have been hard placed to explain had someone asked.
"Oh Lord!" Mr Darcy's elder cousin shook his head with exaggerated patience, then spoke slowly, as if talking to someone who was mean of understanding. "What I mean, Darcy, is whether he took you to a place where you learn the ultimate pleasure known to man—the pleasures of the flesh."
Elizabeth heard a gasp; she could not tell if it was hers or Mr Darcy's. She could also not tell which of them would appear redder if they stood side by side.
She looked accusingly at her grandmother, who gave a sheepish grimace. "I am sorry, my darling girl! And I warn you that worse is yet to come. Honestly, Lizzy, I was in two minds about this…but I believe, at the end of this you will understand why I decided to proceed."
Elizabeth nodded doubtfully, then turned to face the two men once again.
"… and Father does not believe that this is an education I need right now," Mr Darcy said dryly.
"I always knew that Uncle George was a puritan! But do not worry, Darcy. You have your cousin to guide you."
"That is more a problem than anything else," Mr Darcy muttered, and Elizabeth grinned. It was clear that Mr Darcy did not enjoy the same easy relationship with Captain Fitzwilliam's brother as he did with him.
"Eh? Did you say something, Darcy?"
"No, Raymore. I just cleared my throat."
"Oh… Well, I know you are closer to Richard than me, but I can help you enjoy a great deal more than him. Come with me now, and I shall show you."
"I am sure you can, but I hope you will not mind very much if I do not take you up on this very tempting offer."
"Oh…come on, Darcy…do not be so scared. Your father need not know. By the by, where is he?"
"He has gone to White's to enjoy an evening of cards with some of his friends."
"So…I am sure he would be back very late. Come along then, we shall already be back by the time he comes home." Mr Darcy watched impassively as his cousin poured some port into a tumbler and took a large gulp.
"You may very well be right, Raymore, but I would not like to take the risk."
"Really, it is too bad, the way you are so scared of your father, and also the nonsense he spouts about the 'upright conduct of the Darcys'! I do believe someone needs to tell your father the error of his ways."
Elizabeth giggled at the expression on Mr Darcy's face.
"Oh, and who do you think is most suitable for the job?" Elizabeth was sure that the drunk viscount totally missed the irony in his cousin's voice.
"Why…for you…I am willing to take…er…the bull by the horns. I tell you what, Darcy, I shall…wait here for Uncle George to return and then…tell him how shabbily he is treating you."
"That is very kind of you, Raymore, but I am sure there is no great urgency to tackle the matter today. Why do you want to waste your time this fine evening? I think you should now go where you had planned. You can always come back and talk to Father in a few days."
"No…no…either we go together and…enjoy ourselves, or we both sit here and wait for your father to come back. If you ask me, I would like to wait here. As I said…someone urgently ne…needs to tell…h-him…the…"
"The error of his ways, I know, Raymore." Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy rub his forehead agitatedly and stare at his cousin with a frustrated expression. Unfortunately, the cousin was busy swigging his drink.
Elizabeth chuckled at Mr Darcy's disgusted expression; she knew she should not be feeling amused at his troubles, but she could not help it. However, his next words wiped the smile from her face.
"Very well, Raymore, let us go."
Something twisted in her heart as she recollected where exactly Mr Darcy's cousin had offered to take him and…for what purpose. For the first time, Elizabeth wished that she could hear Mr Darcy's thoughts also, just to know why he had changed his mind all of a sudden.
She stared at her grandmother with dull eyes. "Grandmama, I do not want to…"
"Trust me, Lizzy," her grandmother said before snapping her fingers.
~§§§~
Elizabeth looked around the room she next found herself in. Although the furnishings were gaudy and the decorator seemed to have a special love for red and gold, the room did not have any special characteristics that could identify it as the den of vice it was supposed to be.
The middle-aged, stout woman who was sitting on the sofa was, however, another matter. At first glance, the only thing that struck Elizabeth was the woman's heavily painted face, but as she talked and smiled, Elizabeth decided there was something in her dress and her manner that made her…different from the women she was used to associating with. For some reason, Elizabeth found herself reluctant to dwell too much on that particular aspect.
"Welcome, my lord. Who is it that you have with you today?" The woman smiled at Lord Raymore, then stared at Mr Darcy with great interest.
"Ah, Seraphina, this is my cousin. He turned eighteen yesterday. I thought the best gift I could give him would be to bring him here and let him learn the delights of life."
Lord Raymore no longer appeared to slur his words. The fairly long drive to this place seemed to have cured him of his inebriation.
"You are indeed giving him the perfect gift, my lord." The woman called Seraphina rose from her seat and motioned for them to follow her. "By the time the young man has spent one night here, I am sure he will be eager to accompany you every time you decide to grace us with your presence." Although she was speaking to Lord Raymore, it was Mr Darcy at whom she was smiling lasciviously.
Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy and saw that his face and ears were a bright red. She looked away quickly; strange, unpleasant feelings were coursing through her at that woman's suggestive words. She wanted to leave this place immediately. The thought of what was to come made her feel ill.
"Aha! Here we are. Please come in." Seraphina led them into another parlour that to Elizabeth, at first glance, seemed full of young women dressed in gowns designed to display their charms to the fullest.
"Seraphina, I hope Angela is free to receive me?"
"Of course, my lord."
"Then I leave Darcy here in your capable hands." Lord Raymore patted his cousin on the shoulder. "Just be guided by Seraphina, and you will fare excellently," he said with an amused grin and left the room. It was clear the man was a frequent and familiar visitor to the place.
By this time, Elizabeth had observed the other occupants of the room more carefully. Apart from Seraphina, there were three women in the room. Two of them were striking, voluptuous women, both around five and twenty years of age, wearing diaphanous gowns. One of them was dark-haired, and the other one had golden curls.
It was the third one, however, who was completely at odds with the rest of the room. She was much younger, thin, and delicate, and she had a fading bluish bruise below her left eye. Although she was pretty, there was nothing spectacular about her, including her brown hair. And unlike the other two women, instead of displaying her charms, she was slouching, perhaps in an attempt to become invisible.
Elizabeth reluctantly looked back at Mr Darcy, only to find him edging his way backwards.
"So, Mr Darcy, which one of my beauties would you prefer for your initiation?"
"Um…I have suddenly remembered that I must meet someone urgently…so I shall take my leave now."
Seraphina chuckled, clearly not believing of the lame excuse. "Oh, there is no need to be anxious, Mr Darcy. Daphne and Anne-Marie are both very good girls. They will take good care of you. Just tell me who you like best," she said, clearly meaning the two showy women.
"Oh…I—" Mr Darcy began, but his words were cut off by a painful cry from the young girl, who suddenly cradled her arm and wept.
While Mr Darcy stared at the girl in consternation, Elizabeth understood the reason for her distress. She had seen the golden-haired woman pinch the slouching child, perhaps in a bid to make her stand up straight. Elizabeth was horrified to see fresh bruises on the poor girl's arm.
"I…I would prefer that girl," Mr Darcy suddenly said loudly over the commotion.
"Oh, no…no, she would be of no use to you. She is a green girl. Let Daphne or—"
"No. I want only her." Mr Darcy was adamant.
Seraphina threw up her arms in surrender. "Very well, but if you are not happy afterwards, I shall not be held responsible."
"Of course, madam."
"You! Stop crying this moment," Seraphina coldly ordered the young girl, who tried to comply to the best of her abilities. Then she called out, "Sam, come here at once."
A young man of Mr Darcy's age, dressed as a footman, came hurrying into the room.
"Take her and Mr Darcy to the yellow boudoir, Sam."
"Yes, ma'am." Sam nodded and motioned to Mr Darcy and the nameless girl to follow him.
~§§§~
"Grandmama, let us go back now," Elizabeth suggested a little desperately, but the old lady only smiled and snapped her fingers.
Elizabeth and her grandmother entered the 'yellow boudoir' only moments after Mr Darcy and the girl. They found Mr Darcy standing in the middle of the room looking concerned and the girl sitting on a chair and chanting mindlessly, "Oh, please. Oh, please."
"Will you stop crying if I promise that I shall not lay a finger on you?" Mr Darcy's words had almost an immediate effect, when the girl stopped chanting to stare at him uncertainly.
"What is your name?"
"Peggy— Oh, I forgot! I'm now called Monique."
"I prefer Peggy. So, Peggy, do they torture you here?"
"Well, you could say that, sir. In the three days I've been here, I've been beaten once, starved since yesterday afternoon…and…and that…" She coloured and fell silent.
Mr Darcy went to the door and opened it to peer out.
"Sam?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Can I have something to eat?"
"I'll ask and let you know, sir," Sam replied before walking away.
Mr Darcy went back to the girl.
"Can you help me to escape from here?" the girl asked eagerly, clearly having decided to trust Mr Darcy.
"If I do help you, where would you go? Where is your family?"
Suddenly her eagerness disappeared like the flame of a snuffed candle, and she fell silent.
"Where did you live before you came here?" Mr Darcy asked again.
"With my stepfather."
"Where is he now?"
"Perhaps on his way to Scotland."
When Mr Darcy opened his mouth once again, Peggy interrupted. "Let me tell you the entire story, sir. My father had a tavern in London. He died three years ago. Since my mother found it difficult to manage the tavern on her own, she married my stepfather a year later. Three months ago, she fell ill and didn't survive her illness. My stepfather then decided he'd like to go and live with his brother in Scotland. He sold the tavern and also hired me out as a cook to the new owner."
"What a reprobate!"
Peggy shrugged. "Unfortunately, the new owner wanted…ah…other favours. When I protested, he decided to force the matter. I-I hit him on the head in order to protect myself, and he was angry enough to leave me here in exchange for money."
"Oh!"
Just then there was a knock at the door, and Sam brought in some sandwiches and fruit. Mr Darcy offered the food to Peggy and then stopped Sam as he was leaving.
"I want to leave here with Miss Peggy. Can you help?" he asked the footman abruptly.
"I can, but…"
"But what?"
"I'll take the risk only if I get enough money to leave this place and go back to my village."
Mr Darcy took out his diamond-studded cravat pin and showed it to Sam. "If you let us leave here without detection and arrange for a hackney, this and the shilling I have with me is yours."
Sam's eyes gleamed as he beheld the pin. "I'll be back in a few moments," he said and hurried away.
Ten minutes later he was back with a pile of boy's clothing in his arms. He offered it to Peggy as he asked her, "You've seen the back stairs?"
At her nod, he elaborated. "Once you're ready, come down the back stairs. I'll distract the guard. Once you're in the street, I'll come and take you to the hackney."
"Thank you, Sam," Mr Darcy and Peggy said simultaneously.
~§§§~
"Do you want to see how your beau convinced his father to help Peggy, or should we now go back?" Mrs Bennet asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth gave her a broad smile. "I would definitely like to see that, if it is not too much trouble."
When they reached Darcy House, Mr Darcy was ushering Peggy into his home, and the butler was staring at the urchin in astonishment.
"Mr Higgins, would you please call Mrs Higgins?"
"Yes, of course, sir."
When Mrs Higgins came, Mr Darcy addressed her with a winning smile.
"Mrs Higgins, this is Miss Peggy. She will be staying here a while. Can you make the required arrangements?"
If Mrs Higgins was surprised at such an unprecedented request, she did not show it on her impassive countenance. "Of course, sir."
"Miss Peggy, please do not worry any longer. Mrs Higgins will look after you."
Peggy looked at Mrs Higgins' kindly face. Perhaps she finally realised that she was safe because she suddenly started crying. "Oh…oh…how can I ever thank you, sir?"
"There is no need to thank me, Peggy, just do not cry, please." Mr Darcy smiled at the girl and then motioned to Mrs Higgins.
Once the girl had been led away by the housekeeper, Mr Darcy turned to Mr Higgins. "Please inform me when my father returns."
"Mr Darcy is home already, Master Fitzwilliam."
"Oh! Has he gone to bed?"
"No, sir, he is in his study."
"Thank God!" Mr Darcy muttered and made his way to his father's study.
~§§§~
"Oh, William, you are back! I must confess that I was rather surprised that you had gone out with Raymore." Although the words were mild enough, the look the father bestowed on his son was intense.
"To be honest, sir, I rather surprised myself."
The senior Mr Darcy smiled at that. "Hmm. So, where have you been? If one is allowed to ask."
Elizabeth could actually see Mr Darcy straighten his shoulders before he responded so quietly that she could not make out the words.
"What?" The senior Mr Darcy sprang from his chair. "Fitzwilliam Darcy! Have I not told you that a Darcy does not behave in a dissolute manner, not to say anything of the risk to your health such promiscuous behaviour poses. I am sorry to say this, son, but I am thoroughly disappointed in you."
"I am well aware of what you have told me, sir. I have never done anything that would tarnish the Darcy name, and I did not start today." If anything, the son appeared more disappointed than the father.
"Oh, but then why did you go to that place at all?" his father asked in a confused voice as he slowly sat back.
"To save you the annoyance of being accosted by a very drunk Raymore and being told the error of your puritanical ways."
"Pardon?" His father's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then he burst out laughing. "The impudent pup! I think Harry is much too lenient with his son and heir."
"To be fair to my uncle, Raymore does not listen to half of what he says. He does not have to as he is of age and has his own fortune."
"Hmm. But I am curious to know why Raymore was so solicitous of you today."
"I have no idea, sir. Perhaps he was feeling cousinly in Richard's absence. He came to wish me well on turning eighteen, then enquired whether you had seen fit to introduce me to the…er…pleasures of the flesh."
Mr Darcy senior muttered something that made Elizabeth's ears burn.
"Yes…well…on being told that you were not in favour of…ahem…that kind of education, he decided to wait here in the drawing room, to empty a bottle of your very fine port and enlighten you on your follies, unless, of course, I accompanied him," Mr Darcy said with a sardonic expression.
"Oh!"
"Yes. So, to save you the annoyance I thought to accompany him and then leave when he was too busy elsewhere to notice my absence."
"Ah, so that was your plan. Well, next time do not bother, son. Just ask Higgins to water down the port. Raymore will disappear before you can say Pemberley!"
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam both chuckled. "Oh, why did I not think of this excellent scheme?" He slapped his hand on his forehead, and then slowly his smile vanished. "Perhaps it is as well I did not think of it," he added.
"Why do you say that, William?"
"I…I…could not leave immediately after Raymore went away…and I met this girl…"
"Oh, no!" the senior Mr Darcy exclaimed and stared searchingly at his son. "So, where is she? In the kitchen with Mrs Higgins?"
Elizabeth was delighted to learn that the father seemed to know his son all too well.
"She is a child, sir. A tortured, frightened child, who was consigned to that hellhole by a vicious scoundrel. She has bruises all over her, she was being starved, and I am sure that overly painted, underdressed hussy in red pinched her when I was there. I could not leave her there!"
Even as a smiling Elizabeth wondered what Daphne or Anne-Marie would feel to be so described, her heart turned over in her breast. It was the strangest of moments because she fell in love—in a past where she did not belong!
"All right, Methuselah, there is no need to get so agitated. To be honest, I am rather pleased to see that your desire to save a lame duck burns as strong at eighteen as it did when you were eight."
Mr Darcy looked bemused.
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"That Seraphina woman knows my name, and I have run away with one of the inmates of her house. I…I was not sure if she, or whoever she works for, could cause trouble for you."
"Hmm… Well, you can safely leave the matter with me. By the by, what are we to do with the chit? Employ her somewhere in the Darcy household?"
"She is the daughter of a tavern owner, not really trained for a life as a housemaid."
"Then?"
"I think I know just the thing. Do you remember, sir, we went to Kympton Church just before journeying to London?"
"Yes, I do, William. I am not in my dotage as yet!"
Fitzwilliam Darcy grinned. "Then I am sure you will also remember what Reverend Mason told you. His mother is now too old to manage the household on her own, and he is searching for a companion and helper for her."
"Ah! Of course. You seem to have thought of everything, William, and there is nothing much left for me to do this night. So, I shall bid you good-night with the hope that Reverend Mason has not already found a companion for his mother."
"Oh!"
On the way to the door, Mr Darcy senior paused by his son's chair. "Do not worry, William. Even if the position with the Masons is no longer available, we shall think of something, hmm?"
"Yes, Father."
"And William?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I am very proud of you, son." Mr Darcy senior ruffled his son's hair and smiled before walking away.
~§§§~
"Grandmama?"
"Yes, Lizzy?"
"What finally happened to Peggy?"
"Oh, Peggy married Reverend Mason in the year of our Lord 1804. The Masons are now the proud parents of one son and two daughters."
"Oh…" Elizabeth felt foolish to feel the prick of tears in her eyes at such delightful news. "Oh, how lovely!" she finally managed to say.
"So, shall we go back now?"
Yes, Grandmama!"
"Very well, then."
Elizabeth blinked her eyes and saw Mr Darcy walking aimlessly around…the Meryton assembly hall?
"Grandmama…"
"Just a very small detour, my dear." Even as her grandmother finished speaking, the man leant back against a pillar and closed his eyes.
"Mr Bingley seems very happy dancing with Jane! I always knew any man of good sense and fortune, who came to Meryton, could prefer no one but my beautiful Jane if he has eyes in his head!"
Elizabeth grimaced at her mother's tasteless boasts.
"Hmm. But they say it is the other man, that Mr Darcy, who has the real money and connections. He is the grandson of an earl!"
"Really?"
"Yes, and he is rumoured to have ten thousand pounds a year! I even heard that he owns half of Derbyshire."
"Oh, Lord!" Elizabeth closed her eyes in distress as she watched Mr Darcy's face twist in disgust at Mrs Goulding's loud proclamations.
"He appears quite morose and ill-tempered. Perhaps he is bookish like Mr Bennet and shuns entertainment. In that case, he would do very well for Lizzy. She understands her father's strange humour very well."
Elizabeth defeatedly watched Mr Darcy stalk away from his pillar and take refuge against another one, two pillars down.
Even as the man leant back his head wearily, Mr Bingley came bounding towards him. "Darcy! What are you doing, standing here in this stupid fashion! Come, I must have you dance."
"Oh, no!" Elizabeth's eyes widened in dismay.
"Well, you know the rest, my dear." Her grandmother grinned as she snapped her fingers.
Chapter 5
The journey was now complete, and Elizabeth blinked as her eyes tried once again to adjust to the dim light in Mr Darcy's bed chamber. She looked around the room, trying desperately not to steal a glance at him, as she believed it was an invasion of his privacy.
Aha! We are now feeling bashful, are we? And what have you been doing all through this 'journey' of yours if not invading his privacy?
Elizabeth had no answer for the sarcastic inner voice, so, paying it no mind, she went to the dressing room to accomplish another exchange of shoes. Truth be told, she was not at all sorry that her grandmother had made her step into Mr Darcy's shoes, otherwise she had no way of knowing when, if ever, her anger and dislike of Mr Darcy would have lessened, and that would have been a tragedy. She knew that now, after what she had come to know of him and…perhaps come to feel for him.
Back in her own slippers, she came out of the dressing room and, giving up on what she had now conceded were her hypocritical qualms, glanced tentatively towards the bed. She found Mr Darcy still deeply asleep. But instead of the comfortably covered, neatly groomed man she had seen before embarking on her journey, she found him sprawled diagonally across the bed. He had restlessly thrown off the counterpane so that it now covered only his lower limbs. His hair was also dishevelled and falling all over his forehead. She shivered a little, as the room had started to grow noticeably colder.
"Grandmama?"
"Hmm?"
"You said he would not be able to see me."
"That is right, Lizzy."
Elizabeth boldly went forwards and, after a little bit of a struggle, managed to pull the counterpane back up to Mr Darcy's chin. Then, just before moving away, she stretched out her hand and gently brushed away the silky locks that had fallen over his forehead.
As she moved back, her eyes encountered her grandmother's amused ones, and she blushed hotly. "He must have been feeling cold," she said defensively.
"Of course."
To Elizabeth's relief, her grandmother forbore to ask what Mr Darcy's dark locks had to do with the cold.
"Let us go back to your room, then."
Elizabeth nodded and this time waited calmly for her grandmother to snap her fingers.
~§§§~
That quite some time had passed since she had left her own bed chamber was clear from the fact that only one candle in her room remained lit, flickering weakly. Elizabeth quickly lit a few more, and as she was arranging them on the mantel, she asked her grandmother hesitantly, "Grandmama, are you sure that people with matching soul marks always marry each other?"
"Why, Lizzy, are you still angry with your Mr Darcy?" Mrs Bennet asked in surprise.
"Oh…no…not at all. In fact, I…I believe my feelings have undergone a material change."
"Oh, my Lizzy. As quick to fall in love as she was to fall into dislike." Mrs Bennet smiled wryly and added, "Not that I can blame you. Had I been in your place, I might have done the same, especially if I had known about the soul mark… But to answer your question, marriages have happened like clockwork in four generations of my family. Though this is the first time it has skipped a generation and has passed through the male line. Perhaps it is because I did not have a daughter, so the boon—and I do like to think it is one—has passed to one of the daughters of my only son."
"Hmm…" Elizabeth felt reassured by her grandmother's words, but she could not help voicing her concern. "I asked because I am not at all sure of his feelings. I…I have always believed that he is trying to find fault with me!"
"That is because up until now you have been viewing him through the prism of your prejudices. Not that he has made it hard for you to do so with his rude and haughty conduct. But now that you no longer dislike him, spend some time getting to know him better, and let him get to know you."
Elizabeth flushed at the reminder of her own less-than-exemplary behaviour. But her grandmother had been very fair in her appraisement and she found she could not add much in her own defence.
Mrs Bennet took advantage of the silence to add with a dreamy smile, "In my case also, I came to know that your grandfather was the one meant for me when I accidently saw his soul mark. He was not aware of either the mark or its significance. It was delightful to get to know him. The secret knowledge that I had just added some more pleasure to our courtship."
"Well…I shall try. But…how I behave towards him will depend on how he behaves towards me."
"Naturally, child." Mrs Bennet smiled at how prickly Lizzy was being, despite seemingly claiming to have been through a complete transformation of feelings for her young man.
Suddenly, her smile faltered, and she sighed. She was allowed to help Lizzy only when her granddaughter asked for her assistance. And the way things had been going between Lizzy and Mr Darcy until a few hours ago, Mrs Bennet had resigned herself to helplessly watching her granddaughter spend a sad, lonely year ahead and face many heartbreaks before finally finding her way to her man.
But all of a sudden, some benevolent power had ensured that Lizzy could see the mark on Mr Darcy's forearm and then call her for help. Mrs Bennet had made haste to ensure that at least one obstacle to the young people's happiness was cleared—Lizzy no longer disliked Mr Darcy. However, a second obstacle continued to linger while that young man remained uncertain of his feelings or lacked the will to act on them.
Mrs Bennet was very much afraid that if Frances Bennet continued to act in her forceful, ill-bred manner, Mr Darcy and the Bingleys might just up and leave. And if that came to pass, the old lady had no way of knowing when Lizzy would find her happiness with him.
She sighed once again and added, "The greater understanding of Mr Darcy that you gained tonight should help things to go more smoothly between the two of you, provided you get enough time to know each other and overcome your reservations. However, I am very much afraid, Lizzy, that time is the one thing you young people might not have."
"W-why do you say that, Grandmama?" Elizabeth asked in a hesitant voice.
Her grandmother looked unhappily at Elizabeth. "I am sorry to say it, but if that comes to pass, most of the blame for it would lie on your mother's shoulders. If she continues to behave in that forceful manner of hers, then she could very well drive Mr Darcy to run scared, especially when those conniving sisters are there to fan his distrust of mercenary females."
"Well, he is a fool if he cannot see for himself that it is Miss Bingley who is the mercenary one, ready to get her talons into him!" Elizabeth said in an offended voice.
"Still eager to jump to conclusions, Lizzy? Please, if you will, tell me how many times have you seen Mr Darcy show any inclination towards Miss Bingley?" old Mrs Bennet asked in a disappointed tone.
Elizabeth remembered the many times she had seen Mr Darcy calmly deflect Miss Bingley's attempts to flatter him and his sister. She sighed; she knew she was trying to be contrary only because she was scared of the way her feelings for him had undergone so material a change.
"Um… not many," she admitted.
"Not many?" Her grandmother's voice was hard.
"To be honest, Grandmama, I do not remember seeing any," Elizabeth confessed in a low voice.
"Oh, Lizzy, the fact that Miss Bingley is a mercenary female in no way negates the other fact—that your mother's behaviour leaves much to be desired. For that matter, many times your younger sisters and even your dear Papa have acted in a manner that gives me palpitations!"
Even as Elizabeth pondered the incongruity of spectres suffering palpitations, her grandmother continued, "So, if Mr Darcy gets influenced by Miss Bingley's words, it will be because her words have a grain—or a few—of truth, especially where your mother is concerned."
Elizabeth pursed her lips; she had no way of countering her grandmother. "Mama would not listen even if I pointed out to her the dangers of her conduct. Jane and I both have tried and failed," she admitted dispiritedly.
"No, the only one who could make a difference and whose duty it is to tactfully rein in his wife is your father, and he would not bestir himself," Mrs Bennet said, her words laced with bitterness. Elizabeth coloured unhappily but kept quiet. There was nothing that she could have said regardless.
"When I left this mortal world, things were not so very dreadful. I still had hopes that Thomas and Fanny would work out their differences. But my hopes have all been in vain. Oh, how I wish that I could even once show myself to my son and tell him how disappointed I am in his behaviour."
There was silence in the room, then Elizabeth said wistfully, "How I wish I was free to go to Papa and tell him what you want him to do. Oh!" For a moment, she appeared lost in a memory, then suggested, "How about I tell him that you visited me in my dreams and asked me to pass your message to…" Elizabeth faltered at the astonished expression on her grandmother's face.
"I am sorry, child, but you are letting your emotions run away with you. Just why would your cynical father believe such a tarradiddle?"
"Perhaps because Papa himself suggested the tarradiddle?"
"Thomas?" Mrs Bennet could not hide her disbelief.
"Yes. It happened around the time of your first visit after your death. Papa was understandably melancholic in those days. One day, I found him standing before your picture, and he looked unbearably sad. Coincidently, that very same day you had told me that he was the best son anyone could have. In order to make him feel better, I told him that."
"Oh no! How did he respond?"
"He suggested that perhaps I had had a dream where you said such kind things. I agreed, as on second thoughts, I had decided it was much better to have experienced a dream than to have seen a ghost."
"You always were an intelligent little thing." Mrs Bennet grinned, then asked, "Did he believe you?"
"I would not know, Grandmama, though he did not appear so melancholy afterwards."
"Hmm…"
"Perhaps he will be more inclined to believe me if you tell me something that only the two of you could know. That would at least force him to think if nothing else."
"Hmm…" Mrs Bennet nodded thoughtfully. "Well, there is one thing…" her voice trailed off.
"What is it, grandmama?"
"Your father promised me something the day he came to inform me of his plans to marry your mother. No one knows about it except me and him."
What could Papa have promised? Even as Elizabeth wondered, Mrs Bennet continued to speak.
"Tell him that I am still waiting for him to fulfil his promise. Tell him I am worried his failure could result in much heartache for his daughters. That if he and Fanny do not act like responsible parents, it is likely to send the Netherfield party scurrying after the ball, causing pain all round."
"Ball? Which ball?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.
"The ball Mr Bingley agreed to hold after Lydia's repeated requests."
"But…we do not know that he will act on his promise."
"If he does not, then there is no need for you to dream," Mrs Bennet said dryly.
"And if he does?"
"Then tell your father what I told you," Mrs Bennet said with sigh. "However, I shall ask you not to get your hopes up too high, my dear. Thomas has had two decades to fulfil his promise, and he has not," she finished sadly.
"Perhaps this time it would be different."
"One can only hope. Well, I shall take my leave now. Have some rest, and mind, do not be rude to the boy in the morning."
"Which boy...?" Elizabeth began in mystification, then as understanding dawned, she blushed. "Anyone would think he is your kin instead of me! And by the by, he is the one who has turned rudeness into an art, not I," she huffed.
Mrs Bennet gave a tinkling laugh, then she disappeared with a cheery, "Good-night."
~§§§~
The next morning, after her ablutions, Elizabeth went to check on Jane and found that, unlike on previous days, her sister was up and about, and the maid – Martha – was helping her dress to go downstairs for breakfast.
I am not sure whether it is her eagerness to return home or her desire to spend time with Mr Bingley that is responsible for Jane's enthusiasm.
"How are you feeling, Jane?"
"As you can see, Lizzy, I feel very well. Give me ten minutes, and then we can go down together."
"Shall I take a quick turn in the garden while you get ready?"
"Of course, my dear. In fact, please do not trouble yourself by trudging all the way back up here after your walk. Come directly to the dining parlour. That way, you will not have to hurry through your walk. Martha will assist me downstairs." Jane smiled, knowing full well how much Elizabeth had missed her morning walks in the past few days in order to take care of her.
"Very well. I shall see you soon." Elizabeth left with a wave of her hand.
Unlike her sister, she was not so eager to join the others in the dining room. Oh, when she had awoken, she had been equally keen to go down and perhaps make a new start to her acquaintance with Mr Darcy. But in the next instant, she remembered the manner in which they had parted last night in the library, and embarrassment quickly replaced her enthusiasm.
He must think I am a foolish, nervy sort of woman, to run screaming like a banshee in response to a perfectly generous offer to lend me a book! Oh, Lord! How shall I ever explain my strange conduct? She chewed agitatedly on her lower lip as she stepped out into the garden. Not keen to meet anyone, she decided to walk to one of the further formal gardens that she had not seen being frequented by any of the current residents of Netherfield.
~§§§~
Unfortunately for her, she had just entered the garden from behind a thick, tall hedge when she ran straight into the man she had been hoping to avoid until after she and her sister left for Longbourn later that day.
"M-Mr Darcy!" she exclaimed.
"Miss Elizabeth." He bowed punctiliously.
As Elizabeth stood staring at him in silent dismay, it slowly registered in her mind that, if anything, Mr Darcy appeared more wary and anxious than her.
Suddenly Elizabeth's wit came to her rescue. The poor man! He really is not used to what happened last night. He is more used to women running towards him than away from him, and especially not screaming like lunatics. A giggle threatened to burst out at the absurd thought, and she suppressed it with much difficulty.
"I… I…. Please allow me to apologise for my strange behaviour last night, Mr Darcy. Let me assure you that it was nothing that you did that was responsible for it."
Darcy stared into Miss Elizabeth's contrite and sincere eyes and relaxed for the first time since she had run away from him the previous night. Ever since she had fled from him, he had been racking his brain to discover what he could have done to frighten her so much, but he had come up with nothing.
In the past, when he was being hounded by some of the more persistently annoying society misses, he had tried to comfort himself by imagining a scenario where he could send them running away screaming. He had never thought that his wish would be fulfilled by the only woman he had found entirely fascinating in so many years.
Truth be told, it had been quite distressing. The aloof hauteur that cynicism had instilled in him over the years frequently engendered resentment in those who engaged with him, both men and women alike. He had grown to be unconcerned about it, but seeing someone being genuinely afraid of him had disconcerted him greatly. Thus, it was a great relief to be told differently.
"Ah. I am quite relieved to know that, Miss Elizabeth. If…if you do not mind my asking, what distressed you so much last night?" he asked politely.
Elizabeth was disconcerted by the sudden query. She had been so busy trying to avoid meeting Mr Darcy that she had not even thought to come up with a plausible explanation for her demented behaviour if he decided to ask.
Consequently, she stared at him in panic. "I…ah…I…was shocked when I suddenly came face-to-face with your forearms and the mar—" She shut up abruptly as she realised she had almost blurted out the truth. Oh, Lizzy, how could you? Feeling appalled at how exactly her unfinished thought sounded, she closed her eyes in mortification.
Darcy goggled as he listened to her. After a long silence he managed to ask, "You…were so shocked at seeing my…er…my exposed forearms that you ran away screaming?"
Put like that and in that astounded voice, her words sounded even more absurd and embarrassing than when she had spoken them.
"I…" Elizabeth could only stare at him in silence, trying desperately to come up with something less humiliating and more sensible.
Why did I have to suddenly start caring about what he thinks of me? she thought in frustration. Otherwise, she could have easily done what she truly wanted to do—turn and walk away, maintaining as dignified a silence as was possible in the circumstances. But she found she could not leave without offering an explanation. Especially after making a claim that seemed to have understandably caused no little offence to him.
The confirmation came when he said very stiffly, "Well, I can only beg your pardon for exposing you to such a…ah…monstrosity. I can assure you that it was most inadvertently done, as I had no idea that anyone would be in the library so late at night. You can obviously accuse me of thoughtless assumptions if you so desire."
"Oh, no, no." Elizabeth stared at him in dismay for a long moment. Then she took a deep breath to calm herself and attempted to amend her blunder to the best of her abilities.
"I seem to have made a tangle of my explanation. It is just that...I am not in the habit of seeing young men in a state of…um…such dishabille, and in my discomfort, perhaps I…I… Perhaps my response was a little excessive."
"A little?" Darcy asked in mock surprise, although he could very well understand her discomfort. After all, she had not grown up with boys at home.
Elizabeth gave him a look of pure irritation. "Oh, very well, highly. In my discomfort, my response was highly excessive and…" Elizabeth paused, trying to calm herself.
Darcy's lips twitched as he observed her gritted teeth, but he prudently dropped the idea of teasing her further. His initial upset at her strange confession had dissipated almost immediately as he stood watching her doggedly trying to blunder her way out of the uncomfortable conversation. Thinking over her initial statement, he had soon realised that she had been going to say something else before she clamped her mouth shut. For some reason, she is not comfortable sharing the real reason for her distress last night. I wonder what it could be?
"… but I will have you know that it was not because I found anything…ah…monstrous."
"Oh?" Darcy raised his brow questioningly. He knew it was quite reprehensible of him, but he had begun to thoroughly enjoy their exchange. His guilt at deriving enjoyment out of her discomfiture had become secondary to the pleasure coursing through him at her valiant attempts to be fair to him despite her own unease.
On the other hand, the embarrassing conversation was taking its toll on Elizabeth. "Yes! In fact, rather to the contrary!" she snapped angrily, swallowed hard, and hurriedly glanced away from him.
Feeling stunned at her bold confession, Darcy stood staring at her for a long moment. Only Miss Elizabeth Bennet could pay you a reluctant compliment in this snarling manner and still make you deliriously happy! He looked down at his boots, trying very hard to control his amusement.
Ever since she had come to stay at Netherfield, he had been desperately fighting to protect his heart against the onslaught of the intelligent, articulate, and extremely lovely threat that was Elizabeth Bennet—a kind and courageous woman he admired but believed he could not make his wife due the disparity in their stations. However, to his surprise, he now discovered that it was this strangely flustered, inarticulate, and completely endearing Elizabeth that made him finally stop fighting his inclinations and lose his heart to her.
Perhaps it was also because there was a strange openness in her eyes today. He could not explain it even to himself, but it was almost as if a veil of cold indifference had lifted from her eyes to reveal the warmth underneath. As he stared at her lovely, flushed countenance, he could finally accept that he would no longer be able to let familial expectations and his own reservations influence his choice to love her.
"Well, I can safely return the compliment—I am of course assuming that you meant it as one. For quite some time now, I have believed that you, madam, are the handsomest woman of my acquaintance," Darcy said and gave her a brilliant smile.
Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. At his words, despite the new knowledge acquired from her journey last night, the old hurt and insecurities came rushing back.
"There is no need for you to dissemble, Mr Darcy. We both know, sir, that you do not find me tolerable enough to even tempt you to dance!"
So, she heard my petulant words that day. He had wondered for a while initially but had forgotten all about it when she had behaved with punctilious politeness afterwards.
Now, his blood ran cold at the ice in her heated voice and the hurt in her lovely eyes. And as he saw the veil of hostility come crashing over her eyes once more, he finally understood why they had held that strange aloofness, which he had been too stupid to even recognise before today.
Well, it was time to do what he deserved—grovel!
"Miss Elizabeth, there is of course no justification for rudeness," he began, then clarified his statement carefully. "At least to strangers who have not done you a sliver of harm."
Elizabeth discovered then that even when she was so angry with him, she could still be amused by his eccentricities. Perhaps the indulgence was the result of the secret understanding of him that last night's journey had brought her.
"…and I apologise profusely for my reprehensible behaviour that night with the desperate wish that you can find it in your kind heart to forgive me." He was disconcerted when, instead of replying, Elizabeth stared at him consideringly, and he hurried to argue his case.
"I am not sure whether it will make any difference, but I would like to clarify that I had no intention of slighting you when I uttered those untrue words. I…I was not in the best of moods that day, as I was worried about leaving my sister Georgie in London. It worsened when I heard some annoying gossip, and I was only trying to stop Bingley from pestering me to take part in the dancing."
"So, why did you come to the assembly, if you were not in a position to enjoy the festivities," Elizabeth asked him coolly.
"Because then Miss Bingley would also have insisted on remaining at home to keep me company," he replied seriously.
Their eyes met, and Elizabeth once again experienced significant difficulty in controlling her amusement. "Oh!" she managed to say calmly enough.
"Yes, I could not let my poor hostess give up a chance to enjoy herself because of my sour disposition."
"Oh, of course. H-how kind of you." Elizabeth's voice shook despite her best efforts, and she saw her own smile echoed in his dark eyes.
"So, am I forgiven?" he asked anxiously after a moment of silence.
Elizabeth smiled at him in response. "Well, it seems I can somehow force myself to forgive a man who is such a kind and caring brother." Her smile widened, and she added impertinently, "Especially when he is ever so kind-hearted as to sacrifice his own comfort for the happiness of his equally kind hostess."
Darcy grinned in relief, then looked searchingly at her. He was overjoyed to see the cold veil had again disappeared from her lovely eyes.
"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. It is you who are the kind-hearted one. And I thank God that you are," he said fervently. All amusement had disappeared from his eyes, leaving them warm and strangely intense, and Elizabeth found that her heart had started beating faster.
She cleared her throat and asked, "Shall we go in for breakfast, then?"
He nodded and offered her his arm.
If Jane was surprised to see a smiling Elizabeth entering the dining parlour on Mr Darcy's arm, she did not let it show.
~§§§~
If It So Happened
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