The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (5 page)

The dance brought them together once more and Elizabeth spoke: “I received a letter from my sister Jane this morning. She wrote that Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield and has been to visit at Longbourn.”

Darcy smiled slightly. “Yes, he told me he might.”

Elizabeth’s gaze was penetrating. “Did you encourage him? To return to Netherfield, I mean?”

Darcy was intensely uncomfortable revisiting a topic that had caused such strife before, but he should explain his attempts to rectify his officious interference. Hopefully Elizabeth would take good intentions into consideration. “I believe Bingley had some thoughts of giving the house up, but I suggested he visit it again before making such an important decision.”

“Very sound advice indeed.” Her smile for him was genuine and his heart felt buoyant.

“I am pleased you approve. I merely suggested he should see the house in a different season to see if it still suited him. And if he still suited – it.”

“You speak about the house almost as if it were a person!” She was laughing now.

“In this situation I believe the comparison is apt. It is, after all, a very
personal
decision.” Darcy felt lighter than he had in a long time. She was teasing him again!

“Yes, very personal.” Her eyes were shining and he basked in her approval.

As they danced, Elizabeth felt the warmth of Mr. Darcy’s gaze on her. She had forgotten how intense his stares could be. Before the proposal she had believed he watched her with disapproval; now that she knew his gaze was filled with desire, she was uncomfortable for a different reason. Naturally she was flattered, but the warmth of his desire alone was not enough to recommend him.

With relief she noted that he appeared as willing as she to pretend the proposal had never taken place. Still, she recalled his saying that his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever. Was it possible that his good opinion of her had survived the accusations she had hurled at him? She found it hard to credit that idea; it was far more likely that he was simply showing how he had overcome his previous regard for her. Recalling his confession of a resentful temperament, she had often envisioned him nursing his resentment.

Their conversation soon turned to their travels and the sights each had seen or hoped to see. Elizabeth allowed herself to relax slightly and began to enjoy herself. All too soon, the dance was over. As he led her from the dance floor, Darcy asked, “Colonel Fitzwilliam is here. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes! Very much.”

Darcy tried to quell an uprising of jealousy in his breast at her enthusiastic response. He reminded himself that Richard could not afford to marry a woman with no fortune – nor would he pursue someone for whom Darcy had expressed an attachment; however, if she harbored tender feelings for his cousin, all would be lost.

They collected the Gardiners and made their way slowly through the crush of people. Darcy’s superior height allowed him to spy his cousin; when they came upon him he was still immersed in political discussions with his friends. His back was to them and he was making some point with an energetic wave of his arm when Darcy drew up beside him. “I encountered someone of your acquaintance, Cousin.”

“Indeed?” Richard turned and his jaw dropped open at the sight of Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet!”

“Colonel, it is a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce my uncle and aunt: Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?”

After the introductions had been effected, Darcy and Fitzwilliam offered to collect drinks for the thirsty revelers. Darcy had been relieved to see that Elizabeth had shown no more than polite pleasure at Fitzwilliam’s presence. As they moved toward the refreshments, Richard shook his head at Darcy. “You are a very lucky man. You have another chance.”

Darcy grasped his cousin’s meaning, but said: “I am not certain it
is
another chance.”

“You had better seize it or I will personally throttle you.” Richard said with a growl in his voice.

“That hardly seems a throttling offence,” Darcy countered, smiling.

“I am serious,” Richard turned on his cousin with a sober expression on his face. “Do not squander this opportunity or I will never endure your drunken self-pity again.”

“If I squander this opportunity,
I
will never forgive myself.” Darcy looked back to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth through the milling throngs of people. “But I do not know if she will grant me another chance. Back in London if I had truly believed she would forgive me, I would have traveled to Hertfordshire immediately. Her presence in Paris does not mean she is willing to excuse my transgressions.”

“But you do plan to pursue her again?” Richard followed Darcy’s gaze.

“Yes. I must. I have no choice.” Darcy ran his fingers through his hair and tried to quell the edge of bitterness in his tone. “But I have no idea how to go about it. I believed she liked me before when she despised me. How am I supposed to gauge how she responds to me now?”

“Perhaps you should give it up. It seems a hopeless case.” Richard watched closely as his cousin responded to this sally.

“No!” Darcy’s answer was immediate and vehement.

“’Twould be the rational thing to do,” Richard suggested with the air of someone playing devil’s advocate.

“Rationality has never played much of a role in my feelings for Eliz – Miss Bennett.” He shook his head. “No, I must attempt it. I knew that the moment I saw her here.” He paused, searching for words. “She already haunts my dreams…invades my every thought…I cannot be in the same city and not attempt to change her opinion of me.”

Richard was silent for a moment, shaking his head. “I do not believe I have ever seen you like this…so agitated and unsure of yourself. You are totally lost.”

Darcy’s voice was a harsh whisper. “Yes, I know.” As he turned to go, Richard caught his arm.

“May I make a suggestion?” Richard asked. “You need to court her.”

“Court her? How?”

Richard shook his head in exasperation. “You are too accustomed to women throwing themselves at you.”

“Miss Bennet does not—”

“Yes, I know she does not. Which is precisely my point. Most men needs must take at least a few actions to make themselves pleasing to a woman. Take her for walks. Give her compliments. Bring her flowers. Write her poetry.”

“I cannot write poetry!” Darcy exclaimed.

“Maybe not, but it would be amusing to see you attempt it!” Richard’s eyes sparkled with humor. “I am merely saying that you must exert some effort to be amiable – and demonstrate that you desire her favor.”

“I have been doing that!”

Richard shook his head. “Not in any concerted way. You must show her you are dedicated to the cause.” There was silence while Darcy assimilated these suggestions. “I, for one, hope you will make progress with her,” he said with air of a man making a pronouncement.

“Why?”

“Because, despite your air of uncertainty and anxiety, you appear far happier than the man who walked into this ballroom.” Then he added waggishly: “and you are far better company.”

“Hope will do that to you,” Darcy admitted, hating the vulnerability this discussion created. “But it could easily be false hope.”

“She seemed fairly happy a moment ago.” Richard observed.

“Yes, but that could be because she was happy to see
you
.” Darcy said with a note of despair in his voice. “I am certain I remain the last man in the world she would marry.”

“Maybe you have moved up the ladder a few rungs. Perhaps she would now consider marrying you before, say, the butcher.” Richard grinned broadly.

Darcy grimaced. “Great encouragement indeed. I thank you.” Richard laughed as they took refreshments back to the group – and Darcy considered how to woo a woman who thought him proud, arrogant, and selfish.

Chapter 3

The next morning Darcy walked to Lady Radnor’s house, which was not far from his inn. He was experiencing greater optimism this morning. Although he would have to apologize to Elizabeth for his appalling behavior at Hunsford, perhaps then she would allow him to court her properly. If he could not win her after a proper courtship, he would know she would never be his—a thought that made him extremely anxious. He swallowed hard, trying to fend off the black despair such ideas evoked.

When he arrived at Radnor House, he found Elizabeth standing outside, at the foot of the stairs leading to the front door. “Miss Bennet. How good to see you!” He bowed. “Are you on your way out?”

Elizabeth seemed startled at his appearance and did not answer his smile with one of her own – seeming more disconcerted than anything. Darcy felt a lurch in his stomach. During the previous sleepless night he had feared that she did not truly wish to associate with him and had only been polite to him at the ball – and now she appeared to confirm this fear.

“Yes, we, umm...are going to see the Tuileries Gardens. I have heard they are very fine.” She would not meet his gaze, but glanced down the street anxiously.

He tried to fend off an impending sense of distress with the thought that she might simply be uncomfortable at their first private conversation since Hunsford. “They are very beautiful,” he replied. “If you would like, I could take you and your aunt in a hired carriage. It is quite a walk from here.”

She shook her head sharply and fidgeted with the strap of her reticule. “Thank you, that will not be necessary. We….” Her voice trailed off uneasily.
Leave now!
A voice in his head cried.
She does not want you here.
But he could not bear to relinquish the hope engendered by her presence in Paris. “We – ah—” Elizabeth seemed to be searching for an excuse, while Darcy’s hopes sank lower each second.

Then two things happened at once. The door to Radnor House opened and Elizabeth’s aunt descended the stairs. Simultaneously a very fine coach appeared from around the corner, pulling up smartly in front of the house – and Elizabeth.

The door to the coach sprang open and Darcy’s mood grew even blacker at the sight of Lord Lennox, every bit the eligible young aristocrat. Now he understood Elizabeth’s unease. She had been waiting for Lennox to escort them to the Gardens. “Are you ladies ready for the beauties of the Tuileries? He inquired of Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner. “Hello, Darcy,” he added as an afterthought.

“Lennox,” Darcy’s voice grated as he nodded a greeting.

Elizabeth turned to Darcy with a small smile that – to his eyes – appeared forced. “It was a pleasure seeing you again. I hope you will come to visit another time.” Darcy nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. She smiled at Lennox as he handed her into the carriage. Lennox helped Mrs. Gardiner in and then thumped on the side and the coach was gone.

The street was almost empty as Darcy watched the carriage glide smoothly down the cobblestones and turn at the corner. He was aware of a hollow ache in his chest.
She is indifferent to me,
he thought.
She may already have an understanding with Lennox.
Yet even in his despair he knew that he would come to Radnor House again, he had to. Silently he cursed himself for letting the colonel talk him into visiting Paris. He did not need to have his heart broken all over again.

The next day, Mr. Gardiner once again departed the house early to attend to his business. Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner had hardly finished breakfast before Lord Lennox came to call. Although it was ostensibly Mrs. Radnor’s house, the mistress herself was occupied with an ill child; however, it was clear this did not inconvenience Lennox.

After half an hour of conversation, they had already exhausted the topics of the weather and the various beauties of the city. Lord Lennox was an attractive young man, but Elizabeth found his conversation rather dull and, unfortunately, plentiful. He was recounting a winning hand of piquet he had once played at White’s when the butler announced Mr. Darcy. At this information, Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes slid sideways toward her niece; she clearly had her ideas about why both men were visiting.

Elizabeth stifled a sigh of dismay. It had been awkward enough when Darcy had appeared immediately before their departure with Lennox the day before, but must they both visit at once? It was likely to be most uncomfortable. She reminded herself sternly that neither man had set about to disconcert her, but the awkwardness still embarrassed her.

Mr. Darcy strode in, but when his eyes fell upon Lord Lennox, he stiffened perceptibly. Had the two men previously had unpleasant dealings? But, no, Mr. Darcy had said they did not know one another.

“I see you have company. I will come again another time,” Darcy said, his expression was as black as that day at Hunsford. As he turned to leave, Elizabeth could not bear the pain on his face. Regardless of his proud and unpleasant manner, she knew that she had treated him unjustly and he deserved better from her. She feared that her discomposure from the previous day had appeared to be coldness to Darcy.

“Please, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “We had little chance to converse at the ball the other night.” Darcy turned back, focusing intently at Elizabeth, who scarcely knew what to think. He seemed to be under the influence of strong emotion, but she was unable to discern what he was feeling. She was also unable to ascertain how she herself felt; Darcy caused the most confusing tumult of emotions in her.