Author's Note: I have several stories started and am having trouble deciding which one to write next. I like the idea of this one, and I will be posting here what I have already written over the next week or so. I might post another one too to see which one inspiration strikes on. As always, please let me know what you think about my story! Feel free to follow me on FB or Instagram or to email me directly at .author if you'd like to know more.
Chapter 1 Tuesday, 8 October, 1811
Elizabeth Bennet was standing with her friend Charlotte Lucas when the party from Netherfield entered the assembly hall. She noticed the genial-looking gentleman entering first, accompanied by a woman resembling him, who appeared vaguely familiar, followed by a man and a woman. That woman looked a little like the other two, and Elizabeth surmised the three were siblings.
She stifled a gasp when the last member of their party entered. Immediately she recognised him. He was slightly older than when she last saw him, but there was no question that it was Fitzwilliam Darcy, the master of Pemberley—and the man who had broken her heart four years ago.
Not prepared to face him, she moved quickly, hoping to avoid being noticed by the party entering the room.
"What is the matter, Eliza?" Charlotte asked, her mouth agape, obviously surprised by her friend's sudden action.
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It is nothing, Charlotte. It is just … I met one gentleman, the tallest one, several years ago when I visited Derbyshire with my Aunt Gardiner, and I did not want him to notice me just yet. Help me find a way to ignore my mother's inevitable demand that I join her to meet the guests."
Charlotte wondered about her friend's reaction to a former acquaintance but did not comment. For a brief time, she was able to help Elizabeth avoid her mother's notice, though when Charlotte's mother sent one of her sisters to command her to join her own family, she sent her friend an apologetic look and did as asked.
Immediately, she was found by one of her sisters. "Lizzy, Mama sent me to tell you to join us by Sir William so we might be introduced to Mr. Bingley and his party," Mary said. Reluctantly, Elizabeth followed her and the two moved to where their mother stood.
As Sir William Lucas performed the introduction, Elizabeth kept her eyes down, barely meeting anyone's eyes. When she heard Mr. Darcy's slight gasp of surprise when he caught sight of her, she chanced to look up at him and saw a look of surprise and pain in his eyes.
"Did I hear you correctly, Mrs. Bennet, when you said that none of your daughters have married? I thought I heard from someone that one of your daughters was already married. Or perhaps engaged?" he inquired, looking strangely at Elizabeth. She could not understand what, if any, message he meant to convey, but intuitively knew the question was directed at her, though she could not understand why. She did not have time to do or say anything before her mother replied.
Elizabeth felt herself flush as he continued to stare at her, though he tried to disguise his interest, or so she thought. Neither of them appeared to be paying much attention to the matron's answer to his question. "No, sir, none of my daughters are yet married or engaged. Though I do hope that will not be the case for long," she said, not disguising her hopes to have a daughter well married and pushing the eldest toward the gentlemen. "Perhaps you would like to dance with one of my daughters. My eldest, Jane, is quite lovely and would be pleased to partner with you for a dance."
Elizabeth gave Mr. Darcy a desperate look and shook her head slightly, indicating that he should not ask her. "Not at this moment, madam. I rarely dance and do not intend to do so this evening. I arrived from Derbyshire only this afternoon and came tonight only to aid my friend," he said coldly.
Mrs. Bennet attempted to persuade the gentleman to change his mind but to no avail. Finally having had enough, he abruptly took his leave, causing the matron to decry him as a most rude individual. Elizabeth stared after him for a moment until one of Charlotte's brothers came to collect her for the next dance. She went with him, pleased to be away from her mother for a time and able to attempt to sort her conflicted thoughts. Josiah was several years younger than her and rarely said much, allowing her to think about the events of the evening.
Did he think I was married? Or that I am engaged to another? Why would he believe those things? How could he believe them, for he has not had contact with me since I left Derbyshire? Not even Georgiana wrote to me as she promised she would. Her mind raced as she danced, and she was far less talkative than was her wont. Her dance partner did not seem to notice, though he deserted her as soon as the dance ended.
It was just her luck that her partner left her near where Mr Darcy stood against the wall when the dance concluded.
"Elizabeth." She heard his whisper and felt her heart race still at the sound of his voice. She blinked away tears as she contemplated what they had once been to each other and wondered, again, what had kept him away all these years.
"Elizabeth," he whispered again, sounding nearly desperate. "Tell me, please, are you truly not married? Are you just engaged? Tell me, do you love him?"
"No, sir, or rather, four years ago, I thought myself engaged, but since the gentleman never came for me or sent any news of his intent. As it is, I am no longer certain if I should still expect him to come for me. Or what his purpose would be if he did show up suddenly after all these years of silence." She could not disguise the pain in her voice and the slight catch she could not stop as she spoke the last words.
"What do you mean?" he asked harshly. "I wrote to you; I wrote to your father: I wrote to your aunt and uncle. Time and time again, and I never received a response to any of my letters to Hertfordshire and your aunt and uncle could offer no information. I even visited your home a second time a year later and was told by your father you were on your wedding trip."
"What?" she asked much more loudly than she intended. Fortunately, the music was loud, and so far, their conversation had not garnered any attention.
"We cannot speak here, not tonight," she said after a moment had passed and neither of them had spoken again. "I will walk out in the morning to a place called Oakham Mount. If you ask any of the grooms at Netherfield, they will be able to direct you there. I will be there at sunrise and we can speak more openly."
"Elizabeth," he whispered again, his voice imploring her, and she finally looked up at him. "I have missed you desperately. I do not know what has happened between us, but I have never stopped loving you."
"Nor I you, William," she whispered before flitting away, hoping to avoid her mother's notice. The memory of William was too precious, too painful, for her mother to find out about now.
Darcy continued watching her for several more minutes as he stood against the wall. Memories flooded him from their time together four years ago, followed soon after with additional memories of the months that had followed. Such supreme gladness followed by intense heartbreak. He could not reconcile the two, nor did he understand what could have occurred. Why did she blame him for not returning when he had? So wrapped up he was in these contemplations, that he did not notice another's approach.
Miss Caroline Bingley, his friend's annoying sister, approached him and grasped his arm without invitation. Once again, he attempted to extricate himself from her clutches, but his thoughts and memories made him respond with far less tact than usual. "Miss Bingley, it is inappropriate for you to always be taking my arm when it is not offered to you. My friendship with your brother is the only connection between us; that is all it will ever be. Cease this pursuit of me now." His voice was harsh, but his composure was shot after coming face to face with Elizabeth Bennet after so many years and finding her unmarried. He had so many questions for her, and for her father.
Miss Bingley was shocked by his words, as she believed herself to be ideally suited to become the mistress of Pemberley. She cared little for the man himself, though he was handsome; what she wanted was the wealth and privilege accompanying the Darcy name. Nor did she intend to spend much time at Pemberley after she was wed. She desired to be a respected hostess in Town, giving glittering parties and wearing the finest clothes.
"Mr Darcy, whatever do you mean?" she cried.
"I mean, stop grasping onto me whenever you approach. We are neither engaged nor married, and we never will be. I do not care for grasping women, literally or figuratively, and I do not appreciate you attempting to create an illusion of closeness that does not exist."
"Mr Darcy!" she cried again, this time louder and garnering attention.
"Be quiet!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "I would prefer the people of this town to think me a rake or a cad than to be subjected to your machinations. Cease speaking now."
When Miss Bingley looked into his face, she seemed to recognise his seriousness and snapped her mouth closed, whatever she intended to say or do forgotten.
"Now, I will seek out your brother and return to Netherfield—alone. I do not need you to accompany me, and I will not be compromised by you. Remember that I can walk away from a compromise with only a slightly tarnished reputation, while yours will be utterly ruined. Keep that in mind if you are considering trying anything while we are staying under the same roof." Darcy issued his warning quietly, but even Miss Bingley seemed to recognise a measure of determination in his tone. She merely nodded and wandered away unhappily, finding her sister and reporting what had been said.
Darcy sought out his friend and found him speaking to Elizabeth's elder sister, Miss Bennet. "Bingley, my headache has worsened, and I am returning to Netherfield immediately. I have already informed your sister that there is no need for any of you to join me. I will send the carriage back for you."
"Oh, I hope you are well, Mr. Darcy. My sister Elizabeth also developed a headache and escaped outside a moment ago. I suppose she only needed a bit of fresh air, though I hope it will not develop into something worse," Jane replied softly.
Darcy nodded. "I also hope it is nothing serious for your sister or for me. If you will excuse me," he replied, bowing, and then rushed to depart.
Instead of calling for the carriage, he walked outside, looking for Elizabeth.
He found her hidden behind some bushes and was surprised to discover her in tears. "Elizabeth, my darling, what is wrong? Why are you crying?"
"Oh, William!" she cried, pleased that he had sought her out yet wondering what had happened to keep them apart all these years. "Why did you never answer my letters? Or if you did, why did I not receive them? How could my father have told you I was engaged? Or on my wedding trip? Why has he lied to me all these years? I repeatedly asked him if he heard from you, but he always said he had not. I thought you changed your mind about me but did not want to face me to admit it. Oh, I do not understand any of this." Not wanting to be discovered, she spoke quietly, but even her soft voice could not disguise the anger and hurt in her voice.
Without conscious thought, he pulled her into his embrace. She came willingly and sobbed into his chest as he held her to his chest tightly. After several moments, he felt her calm and began to speak, keeping his own voice low so as not to be overheard by anyone who might be lingering nearby. "I could not understand it either, dearest. I came to Longbourn twice to speak to your father. Each time I came, I looked for you to speak to you directly, wanting to hear from you to confirm what he had said. In London. I also visited your uncle at his home and again at his business and could never learn anything about you. He would not confirm what your father said, nor did he deny it. He simply would not say anything other than to reiterate that I must speak to your father and that he had the final say in whom you wed."
Elizabeth continued to allow herself to be held by him and drew strength from his familiar embrace. "I admit, I am afraid to ask him why. If he learns we have met again, will he act to separate us? Mama will speak of your presence here in Meryton, and I cannot imagine Papa will have forgotten your name after all this time." She paused and removed her head from where it rested on his chest and cried. "Oh, William! He will hear your name in the morning, and I know he will do what he can to keep me away from you." She was nearly sobbing as she finished, and he only held her more tightly.
After several minutes, he spoke: "Come with me now to Netherfield. I believe there are still many months until you reach your majority," he said, looking down at her for confirmation. Elizabeth nodded, and he continued. "I do not wish to be separated from you again for any length of time and I believe your father has proven that he will lie to keep us apart. We can head directly to Scotland and marry over the anvil. Once that is done, he cannot prevent us from being together."
"Are you certain, William?" she asked, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye. "It would be a scandal."
"I can bear the scandal, dearest. However, Georgiana may not appreciate the irony of my marrying in this way. I prevented her from eloping this past summer, but that was because the man was a rake and only wanted her for her dowry. I have wanted to marry you for years, but we have been kept apart for reasons neither of us know or understand. If your father would lie to both of us for all these years, I cannot imagine he would allow us to be together now. I, too, am afraid he will take action to separate us."
"I have nothing with me, not even my cloak. It is still inside the assembly hall." Elizabeth snuggled deeper into his arms, not wanting to let go but not knowing how to make it happen so quickly.
"What if we met at sunrise, as you suggested? Will your father still be awake when you return home tonight? Would he prevent you from walking out if he learned I was here?"
Elizabeth again pulled back to look at the man she had loved for four years. "It is unlikely, but he can be unpredictable."
"You know I would gladly purchase anything you need as we travel north," he said, smiling down at her tenderly.
She smiled at him. "I do know that. I still wear your ring, though no longer on my finger. I could not since Mama would have questioned me about it, and I did not know what Papa would have said. When I told him you would come, he did not believe it was true and I thought he would mock me for my faith in you."
"Where do you wear it then?" he asked, looking her over carefully
"It is hidden—sewn into my corset." She blushed profusely and hid her eyes.
Darcy gently lifted her chin with his fingers, ensuring their eyes met. As their gazes locked, a fleeting brush of their lips sent a shiver through him. After a moment, he drew back, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "You are even more tempting now than you were at sixteen, my love. I do not care whether we begin now or at first light; one way or another, I will not let another fortnight pass before making you my wife. What will it be, Elizabeth?"
He watched her as she weighed her options, her expressive face a canvas of shifting emotions: joy, disappointment, sorrow, and above all, love. Finally, resolve sparked in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Let me return inside and tell my sister I am walking home," she replied, her voice steady. "Then I will go home, though you can convey me part of the way in the carriage if you prefer. If you attend to your packing at Netherfield, we can meet in an hour at the same spot where you leave me. This way, I can be seen coming home by the housekeeper. Once there, I can pack a few things for our journey and change into something more suitable for travelling. I would prefer not to set off for Scotland in this gown. Mrs. Hill will confirm that I came home and went straight to bed. No one will miss me until sometime tomorrow when I do not join the family for breakfast," she explained, her determination evident.
"I will call for Bingley's carriage," Darcy responded, a rush of exhilaration flooding through him. "We can take my carriage north, and I will leave a note saying I was called away. As soon as we are able, I will hire an additional coachman so we may travel faster and longer each day. With any luck, we will be at Gretna Green in less than a sennight."
They both rushed to do as they said and before the dance ended that evening, they were heading toward the Great North Road. At a stop later that following morning, Darcy hired two express riders—one going north to Pemberley and the other to go south to Hertfordshire and then on to London.