Chapter 4

The sisters made their way downstairs. Miss Bennet was immediately encouraged to sit between Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth was left to sit near Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. Soon Mr Darcy joined them and a conversation about what qualified as accomplishments for ladies was begun by the unmarried lady's older sister. Lizzy believed the topic was surely meant to make Caroline Bingley look favourable in Mr Darcy's eyes.

Mrs Hurst said, "so many ladies are deemed talented because they paint tables, cover screens or net purses. To me that is not enough to define accomplished, nor did it satisfy the seminary Caroline and I attended. We were told no one could deserve that word who does not greatly surpass such things. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages.

Miss Bingley chimed in with, "And besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

Darcy added, "and to all this I would add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"You have put me to shame. I am woefully inadequate based on your standards. My father did not even hire a governess for his daughters, much less could he afford to send us to a seminary. The two of you are very fortunate. Miss Bingley, I am certain you will marry well because of the provisions your father made."

Lizzy noticed she had not won approval from their hostess with her observation. She had only been trying to be complimentary by acknowledging her father's diligence in preparing for his children's future—something Mr Bennet rarely considered. Mr Darcy finally broke the awkward silence, but not to assuage Miss Bingley's feelings.

"I believe you told me you play the pianoforte and speak French, so you are not without any talents."

"Yes, even without someone paid to mold you into the perfect example of womanhood, it is possible to develop oneself. I also sing some, the better to entertain company, my young cousins, and most importantly myself. Mr Darcy, to your last point, I admit to enjoying a good book. However, my motive for reading is hardly the improvement of my mind. It allows me to experience things I probably never will in the course of my life." The tears she so often struggled to keep hidden were threatening again. In the last two years, she had learned many ways to keep her emotional response to life's disappointments from being seen. This time she simply dipped her head and sipped her tea.

"It is admirable you have endeavoured to improve yourself even if it is for pleasure."

"You must comprehend a great deal your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Yes, I must. I am guardian to my sister. Just as Miss Bingley's father did, I must be certain she is well prepared for life."

His words allowed the one mentioned to sufficiently recover from her momentary mortification to chime in with, "Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth's height, or rather taller."

"Unlike my father, you have given your sister access to a delightful library at Pemberley, Mr Darcy. I am astonished my brother was left so small a collection of books."

"Yes, it ought to be good. It has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, Charles says you are always buying books."

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

Miss Elizabeth had completely forgotten her sadness when the topic of Mr Darcy's library was raised. She was inspired to add her own thoughts on the subject. "My father would agree with you. My enjoyment of reading is definitely the product of his collection and his generosity in allowing me to partake. His wife, on the other hand, believes the money he spent on books was wasted. She would have preferred it go toward adorning her daughters. They were forever at odds on the subject. Though I will never go to China, I have been able to read Marco Polo's words describing that part of the world."

A broad smile crossed Mr Darcy's face as he answered her words, "Mr Bennet sounds as though he has a diverse collection."

She was kept from telling him more about her father's library because Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley both seemed unsettled by the turn in the conversation. They decided between them they would display their accomplishments for the room. Lizzy assumed moving to the pianoforte for such an undertaking, allowed them to expect Mr Darcy's attention would be focused on them.

They were successful. She, Mr Darcy and Mr Hurst paid attention to the performance. The two sisters alternately played while the other sang. Lizzy noticed with satisfaction that the grouping on the other side of the room was not paying attention but instead continued their conversation. The two gentlemen seemed to be vying for her sister's attention. She prayed her sister would return somewhat to her former outlook about marrying. The doldrums threatened to return with the thought how much her hopes depended on her sister having a place where they could reside together. Mr Darcy had surprised her this evening. He was much more pleasant, and he had even smiled at her when she mentioned China. She would tell Jane not to eliminate him as a husband just yet. Perhaps he would allow her to live with them and then she would have access to his magnificent library. This pleasant thought brought the hint of a grin to her countenance.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr Darcy said to Elizabeth, "Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

Lizzy knew she must refuse, but did not want to reject Mr Darcy with no regard for his feelings, though she assumed he was not entirely serious. While hesitating in determining the proper response, she continued to beam. This caused him to repeat the question as he gazed at her expectantly. "I heard you, but I fear our action would be perceived as impolite to our hostess while she performs so beautifully for us."

He did not hesitate with his reply. "But your refusal denies me the right to dance with all of Mr Bennet's lovely daughters. Tell me if I am wrong, but you will not be present at the ball Mr Bingley plans to give?"

There was an air of sarcasm in his response. She was unsure what he was about. "Perhaps one day we will find another opportunity to dance together."

His face barely concealed his displeasure as he replied, "I doubt it. You do not even seem to know where you will be residing."

In order to counter despondency this time she met his eyes with steely determination. "Mr Darcy this is my last evening with the residents of Netherfield. I was not wholly welcome upon arrival, and I am trying to leave with as little evidence as possible of my presence. My visit was for my sister's comfort. Please forgive me."

For the next several minutes, they sat in silence listening to the performance of two very accomplished sisters. As they paused between songs, he rose and moved to where Charles and Richard were paying court to Jane. She tried smiling at Mr Hurst, but he did not notice her presence in the least—just as she had told Mr Darcy she preferred.

When the performers returned to their seats, Miss Bingley appeared uncertain whether she was pleased or not Mr Darcy had departed for the other side of the room. Lizzy felt certain high on her list of things appreciated was his lack of interest in someone so disreputable as she was.

Luckily, it was not long before Jane decided she needed to rest. They were soon snug in bed together, talking and giggling, just like old times. This their last night together, for who knew how long, caused both to shed some tears, despite both trying to keep their thoughts positive.

Her sister's conversation with her two admirers was related thoroughly. To Lizzy's gratification both seemed quite taken with her. Next, the sisters discussed in detail what Jane should wear to the ball, and how she should style her hair. It was stressed how important it was to make the most of the occasion—to leave at least one of the three gentlemen with the desire to continue their relationship.

"I angered Mr Darcy. We were having a most pleasant conversation about reading and libraries when he asked me to dance a reel with him."

"What did you say?"

"I refused. Mr Bingley's sisters were performing and I thought it rude toward them to accept. That is when he came over to join your group."

"His demeanour was sulky when he arrived, and he added almost nothing to the conversation. Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam paid little attention to him and just allowed him to scowl. They seemed quite used to such behaviour from him."

"He confuses me. He had been so engaging just minutes before. Still, I believed he might have been jesting when he asked me to dance."

"Maybe he is interested in continuing an acquaintance with you."

"I doubt it. From first meeting him two days ago, he has stared at me with disapproval. This evening was the only time we have exchanged pleasant words."

"Are you certain, Lizzy?"

"I saw the disgust in his eyes when he saw me with Mr Wickham yesterday morning. His appraisal was how beneath him I was to fraternize with someone from the militia."

"Could he be jealous?"

"No! He definitely disapproves of me."

Sleep would not come for Darcy. Instead, he questioned every decision he had made since his father's death. His mind and body wrestled with so many doubts—about Isabelle, Georgiana and now Miss Elizabeth.

Why had she allowed Wickham to take her arm, but would not dance with him? That thought, more than any, refused to be ignored. What started out as simple curiosity was becoming a growing need to know. Yes, he had kissed her years ago. Beyond behaving generously for an entirely too forward young woman of mean connections, there was really nothing much to recommend the incident or her as memorable. Granted, there were those luscious golden lips and their intriguing conversation about hopes and dreams.

Admitting defeat, he arose and moved to the writing desk. Just as he sat down, the clock struck midnight and he heard noise. A note had been slipped under the door which summoned him to the library in an hour. It made no sense it would be Richard or Bingley… they would come to his room. Upon further thought, he wondered if Hurst was in need of a discreet loan. The suspicion Caroline might be setting up an incident evoked the memory of Miss Elizabeth advising him to flee.

Throwing off all other thoughts, Darcy devised a plan. He would go to the library—prior to the assigned meeting time. His goal was to keep his wits about him and be prepared for any eventuality. Quickly dressing he immediately traveled downstairs.

Upon arrival, Darcy put his ear to the door trying to discern voices or movement. Hearing nothing, he entered to find candles burning. No one was visible, but a voice caused him to look up.

"Oh Mr Darcy, please excuse me."

Miss Elizabeth, her face flushed with mortification, was rapidly making her way down the ladder, precariously carrying a candle. His first thought was for her safety, but soon his mind turned to other possibilities. Was she flustered due to his early arrival? Had he disrupted her plans to entrap him? The thought seemed implausible. "Please be careful. What have you done that needs to be excused?"

"I am hardly respectable, here in my night clothes with bare feet. I will leave immediately. No one needs to know."

Those words coincided with his assumptions. Why would she feel the need to trick him into marriage? She had no such thought in Vauxhall when he had truly taken advantage of her. His desire to speak with her since realizing who she was prompted him to persuade her to stay. He smiled and pointed to the chair opposite to put her at ease. "No, do not leave on my account. Sit down and tell me why you are here, and why you are not wearing slippers?".

Her eyes dangerously shifted downward to her bare feet. "My sister Jane's are too small for me.

His eyes followed hers and his thoughts turned to their discussion of feet that night in the gardens, and the corners of his wayward lips attempted to tug upwards into an inappropriate grin.

"I could not sleep and thought a book might help."

He breathed a sigh of relief once she was finally down the ladder and seated. What kind of book did you think would help you? I too am struggling with a similar affliction."

"Because I am about to go on a journey, I was hoping for travel books. Such a poor excuse for a library; there is not even a copy of The Odyssey."

"Is your trip to somewhere exciting such as Venice or China?" He knew his words were provocative of their past encounter, but he needed to understand her predicament.

Her face went from wary to astonished. She shook her head and said, "Oh no, as I said earlier, I am being sent to either the Midlands or possibly Ireland."

"Why?" He watched as she seemed to be deciding how to answer. A slight shrug of her shoulders told him she might have decided on candor despite the complete impropriety of the situation. His hope was he had caught her at a vulnerable time.

"My family believes me disreputable, and fear my presence will endanger the prospects of my sisters."

"What have you done?"

"A gentleman decided I was not worthy to wed. It was a marriage my uncle arranged—no attempted to coerce is more precise. Also, the man's discarding me happened in an extremely public way."

Now, Darcy was not certain he was to blame for her troubles based on what she said. He needed to learn the particulars. "Why was the marriage being coerced?"

"We kissed in Vauxhall Gardens and my uncle saw us." His face must have registered some of the guilt he felt. Her smile was sweet and reassuring as she said, "Think not of tragic circumstances we read about, Mr Darcy. There was no actual love or even affection involved. I barely knew him."

There it was… the proof he had been dreading. "Was that your only transgression?"

She paused. Darcy believed she was pondering whether she should divulge the truth. "Yes, I did not think it cause for us to marry, but my uncle insisted. My groom was a fool who did not take my advice to disappear when I gave him the chance?"

"You gave the man time to abscond and he did not?"

"No, he ran away, but not far enough. He was found later—playing cards in one of the boxes."

"Why did your family think his act warranted marriage?"

"My uncle had seen me kissing him back… it was a silly momentary curiosity… at the time it seemed a very inviting sensation. He did as he knew my mother would have wished. He seized the opportunity to marry me off… to rid her of me."

"What about your father's wishes?"

She examined her hands while she attempted to formulate her reply. Once again, he saw the threat of discomfort he had observed her trying to hide beneath a veneer of satisfaction several times in the last few days. Finally, she said, "I am my mother's least and my father's most favourite child. When they were told of my indiscretion, Papa too thought it a minor offence, but Mama told him he was a poor excuse for a father if he did not understand my behaviour would ruin the chances of his other daughters. He is an indolent sort of man and decided he did not want to be bothered to defend me. My uncle had found the guilty party; so why not go along with forcing him to marry me and return to his books and port."

"How did your uncle know him?"

She gave him an odd look. "What do you mean?"

"Why was he certain he had found the correct man?"

"Did I not mention being in costume? He was wearing the same one I was."

Darcy knew there had been four of them dressed so. He could not believe either of his cousins would have submitted to an accusation from a man so beneath their consequence as her uncle, which left Wickham as the one who must have been the supposed offender. "And what then?"

She shrugged. "We met. He was handsome, charming, and I remembered the kiss and our conversation fondly. I decided there was no other choice for me—even if he did turn out to have marital murder on his mind. But instead, he did not show up to the church at the appointed time. My mother blamed my wanton, wild, and willful behaviour for his refusal to wed." Despite knowing he had been the true guilty party; her alliteration caused his lips to tug upward inappropriately again.

"Mama was particularly annoyed that our marriage had been gossiped about here in Meryton… much at her own encouragement, I might add." He saw a flash of anger before she added, "I believe it more likely it was my paltry one-thousand-pound dowry that drove him away."

This time he was unable to stifle his amusement at her observations. Presuming the 'caught' man had been Wickham, she had obviously seen through his charm—at least on this account. However, she seemed less than pleased by his display of levity. To make up for his thoughtless reaction, he decided to do something as uncharacteristic as had been his purloined kiss. She had trusted him to listen with compassion. He could think of little else but to move her thoughts away from her disgrace by telling her one of his most humiliating moments. "I too was jilted."

Her eyes grew wide with amazement. "What woman would reject you?"

This time he managed to stifle his laughter. "As best I am able to deduce, it occurred because her closest friend married my cousin Bertie, the Viscount Smallwood. He will become the Earl of Matlock with my uncle's passing. I was completely unaware of her envy of Lady Cassandra becoming a countess. She said 'yes' to me merely because I was available… all the while hoping to be saved from the degradation of marriage to merely 'Mr' Darcy of Pemberley. While I proclaimed my relations would rejoice in our union, she secretly dreamed of being rescued by a peer. Miss Bennet, I was deluded into believing our love would endure. In truth she cared little for me. The result turned out to be quite ironic with regards to my family."

"So, are you about to tell me she found an earl to propose before you said your vows?"

"Yes. One week before our wedding, I received a note from my widowed uncle informing me he intended to marry her." The look on Miss Elizabeth's face seemed genuinely appalled by the situation, but within seconds she was struggling not to laugh.

"Instead of becoming your bride, she has become your aunt."

"Yes, and poor Colonel Fitzwilliam's step-mother." He was uncertain how she was reacting to his news. She had experienced both mirth and pain upon hearing of his situation. Had she been in love with Wickham, despite her understanding of his pecuniary desires, when he jilted her? Could she be pining for that rascal? Sometimes he believed Georgiana still did.

They both lapsed into silence as they contemplated each other's losses. She spoke first in an attempt to add some mirth to the situation. I believe Beaumarchais could have written a delightfully biting comedy by combining our tales of rejection. The question is whether Mozart would have been so taken with our romantic dilemmas to turn them into an opera? It could be 'The Marriage of'… fill in your name, Mr Darcy."

He hoped his grin spoke his approval of her attempt to find humour in their rejection. "Fitzwilliam is my name and it works perfectly—'The Marriage of Fitzwilliam.' Do you think we could draw the elegant Covent Garden crowds to watch, listen, and laugh as we try to recover from our amorous disappointments?"

Her words caused him to remember a revealing moment before he proposed. "Isabelle and I went to see The Marriage of Figaro. She was not at all pleased with an evening spent with such silly lowborn characters."

Hearing a noise, he noticed fear wipe out the laughter in her eyes. Upon turning to look in the direction of her gaze, he saw their hostess standing in the doorway.

Miss Bennet stood and said, "Miss Bingley do come in and join us. Neither Mr Darcy or I could sleep; we came looking for something to help. Were you suffering similarly?"

The look on Caroline's face was a mixture of utter bewilderment and fury. They watched as she backed out of the room and closed the door. He now knew the meaning of the note he had received. His companion did not seem to understand, though he did detect a hint of fear.

A few seconds later, Bingley opened the door with words already tumbling from his mouth. "Darcy what is the meaning of this?" His usual practiced amiability had been replaced by rehearsed outrage; suddenly it was wiped away by astonishment. "What are you doing here Miss Elizabeth… in your nightclothes… with bare feet?"

Darcy watched as she regained her composure. Refusing to answer, she walked resolutely to him and whispered, "Do not be a fool. You have no obligation to me." He watched as she pushed past Charles, not to mention, the maid and footman who flanked him. Darcy assumed they were witnesses.