Falling for Mr. Darcy Read online

  “I do wish it, sir.” She spoke firmly, but even though her voice was still cold, she felt the strength of her resolve falter at the gentleness in his voice.

  He bowed slowly in acknowledgement of her request for his departure. Straightening to his full stature, he looked at her face and waited until her eyes met his before speaking with a firm but tender tone, “Miss Bennet, I will have you know that I am neither by honor nor by inclination bound to marry my cousin.” With that, he bowed again and said only, “Good day, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth could not tear her gaze from him as she watched him turn and walk slowly out of the garden. His words had touched her. With one sentence, he had set at ease many of the troubling thoughts that had begun to burden her heart. She began to hope again that, by wanting to clarify this fact, he was essentially making a sort of declaration to her about his feelings. She did not think that she was prepared to make a similar declaration but did not want to see him leave with her anger still in the air.

  “Mr. Darcy!” she called out to him.

  Mr. Darcy stopped at the sound of her voice and hesitated a moment. He was glad to hear her call him back as he had begun to feel an acute sense of loss, but he could not tell from the tone of her voice whether she was still angry with him, and so he turned slowly. He said nothing and tried to keep his face impassive as he looked towards her. Her face was softened, and the tension in his chest lessened somewhat at the sight. He watched as she nodded her acknowledgement of his previous statement and gave him a small smile. The tension fell away completely as he heard her sweet, soft voice address him.

  “Good day to you, too, sir.”

  He smiled softly at her and bowed again before turning to leave the garden. Elizabeth watched until he disappeared around the side of the house and heard his horse’s hooves leave the courtyard before she turned and sat back down on the swing.

  Chapter 4

  Curled up with a book of sonnets in her father’s library, Elizabeth tried once again to escape the chorus of her family’s voices in other parts of the house. It was still raining, and the north-facing windows of the library took the thumping of the downpour, creating a relaxing hum throughout the room. It had rained heavily since the day after the gentlemen had stopped by Longbourn to extend their invitation to the ball. Everyone was excited about the event, not the least of whom was her mother, and the poor weather only intensified her agitated vocalizations as she dictated this and that for each girl’s preparation. Although it was not specified, Mrs. Bennet was certain the dance was held in honor of her sweet Jane, and she was determined that all her daughters were to look their best. Mr. Collins was still eagerly courting Lizzy, and the news that the officers in Meryton were invited to the dance rounded out her hopes for the evening for the rest of her daughters. As the fevered pitch of her mother’s voice seeped into the stillness of the library yet again, Elizabeth looked up at her father in the chair opposite her near the fire.

  Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes and lowered his head to his book. Elizabeth pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and drooped lower into her chair in escape. She loved being in the library. The scents of leather, aged paper and her father’s cigars filled her senses with calm and comfort. It was a place in which she rarely had to behave as dictated by society. Even now, she did not sit up properly as a lady ought. She tucked her feet beneath her in the giant, leather armchair, dropping her slippers haphazardly on the floor. Sitting with a most unladylike posture, her shoulders hunched forward and her head leaning against the wing of the chair, she could comfortably escape into the peace of a book. It was her chair: the one Mr. Bennet always allowed her to use, sitting opposite to its twin near the fireplace. Mr. Bennet sat in the other with his legs propped up on an ottoman.

  However, today Elizabeth could not drown out the thoughts of her mind with a book. Even the comforts of the library, her only chance for peace with the weather keeping her and all her family at home, were not helping her sort out the feelings in her heart. Turning a page in the book that she was not actually reading, she allowed her mind to drift back to the garden a few days before when Mr. Darcy spoke to her last. She was embarrassed that her budding feelings for him had been so apparent in the drawing room and even more concerned that those feelings, which she had believed were only trifling, had driven her from the house at the news that Mr. Darcy was engaged to his cousin. It was not like her to have such a violent, emotional reaction. At least nobody else seemed to notice. Even Jane was persuaded to think she had just needed some air when she asked Elizabeth why she had left so suddenly. She had always been the one to laugh at the follies of others, including herself. She had developed the occasional tender feelings for a gentleman before and, upon hearing his interest was elsewhere, had shaken it off and laughed at her silliness. Not so with Mr. Darcy. Why must that man continually plague me?

  Before their day in the forest, she had disliked him quite intensely. After, she had found herself intrigued and even drawn to him. She recalled that every reaction she had to him, either good or bad, was rather passionate. That is what confused and frightened her. The weather had served to oppress her into her thoughts, keeping her blocked in without escape.

  She recalled his words in the garden. ‘I am neither by honor nor by inclination bound to marry my cousin.’ Elizabeth once again tried to determine why such a simple statement produced such a powerful sense of relief in her. She trembled to think that he would feel the need to say such a thing to her. They had no understanding between them and only recently had any civil conversations — well, more than civil if she was honest with herself. A rosy hue colored her cheeks as she thought of the near-flirtatious interactions they had had. His kindness and solicitous concern after her injury brought out a charming side of him that, when combined with his attractive features, had only unbound any attempts she had made not to be affected by the handsome man.

  Shaking her head, she turned the page again. The words on the page swam and shifted like her thoughts. She admitted to herself that she had begun to have feelings for Mr. Darcy. That could be the only explanation for the calming effect of his declaration. She decided that his urge to comfort her with the only words that would have done so might be proof that he returned at least some of the regard she felt for him. She was realistic enough to know that a great man with his fortune did not pay his addresses to just anyone. He would have ladies of the ton swarming him with eagerness to become his wife, and he would be ever careful not to raise expectations. This thought finally made things clear to Elizabeth as, frowning slightly, she realized that, in all her experience with the man, he had always been honest — brutally so at times. While staying at Netherfield, she had learned that he despised deception.

  She now comprehended that, even if Mr. Darcy had developed some feelings for her, he would be a man driven by honor — an honor that required him to clarify the truth of his situation with his cousin. With sadness, Elizabeth realized that he likely did not declare himself unattached to his cousin due to any affection for her but because his honor would not allow the deception, and his natural kindness did not want her feelings burdened. With a pang in her heart, she determined that, at the ball, she would not allow her feelings to be so transparent. They could converse as friends because she did not want him to feel responsible for raising feelings in her that, by honor, he may not be able to return.

  “Is something troubling you, Lizzy?” Her father’s voice broke through her musing and brought her to the present.

  Looking up and smiling convincingly, Elizabeth responded, “No Papa, I am just tired of being indoors. I will be glad when this ball is over.”

  “You are not looking forward to dancing then?” he teased.

  She laughed. “Oh, I am, but I am afraid we will have no peace at Longbourn from Mama until it is over.”

  “Well, my dear, we have never had peace at Longbourn as long as your mother is at home. But yes, her excitement for the event has seemed to express itself mos
t violently.” As if to prove his point, the voice of Mrs. Bennet calling for Hill was heard beyond the door as she walked past the library. Elizabeth and her father broke out in laughter.

  Elizabeth covered her mouth to hide the sound when her father gestured with his finger to be quiet lest they attract visitors to their sanctuary.

  “Shh, child! Unless, of course, you want your Mr. Collins to find you here.”

  “Oh no!” She chuckled silently, sinking deeper into the chair. Earlier, when her cousin had been looking for her, he had come into the library to ask Mr. Bennet if he knew where she was. If she had not been curled so tightly in the chair, he would have seen her, and she was thankful that the huge, leather chair had its back to the door. She had shaken her head to her father, begging him not to divulge her hiding place, and he graciously kept her secret, directing her cousin to another room.

  “He does seem to have a particular interest in you, Lizzy,” her father said suggestively.

  “I cannot think why. I never speak to the man if I can help it, and you know that, although I love to read, I have not spent as much time in this library in years as I have since he came to Longbourn. You do not think he . . . ” She could not finish the thought without a shudder.

  “Have no fear, Poppet, I will not force you to marry him should he pay his addresses, regardless of the entail and the wishes of your mother.”

  “Marry him!” she whispered with distress. She shifted uncomfortably as she tried to dispel that thought. “Thank you, Papa; I should not marry such a fool. In fact, I believe I am indebted to my sister Mary for her kind efforts in distracting him. She is often the reason I am able to escape as she always seems to have some topic of great doctrinal import to discuss with him.” Elizabeth smiled mischievously.

  “Hmm. Yes, Mary has been most kind,” Mr. Bennet replied. Although their discussion had been light and teasing, the topic of his daughters’ future spouses was of great concern to their father. He could not express to any of them his regrets for not marrying for love. When he met Fanny Gardiner, he was not seeking a wife, but she was pretty, and he was young and foolish. He let the temptations of a great beauty decide his fate and fix him to a silly mate for the rest of his life. He wanted his daughters to marry for love and wanted the men they married to love them in return. He knew that society would not look too closely at his daughters because of their lack of fortune, and he wanted it that way. He wanted them to choose between marrying for convenience and marrying for love, despite their circumstances, and he hoped they would choose correctly. Looking over at his favorite daughter, he felt an uncharacteristic surge of emotion fill his breast.

  Speaking with a tenderness not often shown, he said, “Lizzy dear, promise me you will not marry without mutual love.”

  Elizabeth was caught by the softness in his voice and the feeling of it, and her eyes watered at his urgent concern. “I won’t, Papa. I am certain that only the strongest love will ever induce me to marry.” She reached over and held her father’s hand. He squeezed her fingers gently in response. She had known her parents’ marriage was not ideal, and from an early age, she had determined not to marry unless she could hold her spouse in great esteem and mutual respect.

  She slowly withdrew her hand as they both settled back into their books in an attempt to clear the suddenly serious air around them. Thoughts of Mr. Darcy drifted unbidden to her mind. He was a good man, and she did respect and esteem him, but there was much she still did not know about him. She should not allow her feelings for the man to continue to spiral out of control without being able to know whether she truly could respect him. The proud way he had spoken at Netherfield on occasion bothered her, and she could not reconcile that proud man with the gentler one she had seen recently. It was either evidence of an unsteady character or one that she did not yet understand. Either way, she should not allow him so much space in her heart until she knew which.

  * * *

  Elizabeth stood smiling at her sister’s reflection in the mirror while their lady’s maid, Ruth, put the finishing touches in Jane’s hair. She was beautifully dressed in an ivory evening gown with gold embroidered patterns around the décolletage and sleeves. She had a matching gold ribbon tied in the front at her waist that extended down to the hem and sent the ribbons in cascades of silky streamers. Ruth had done a marvelous job on her hair and was just pinning the last of the delicate matching ivory flowers into her soft curls.

  “You look beautiful, Jane. Mr. Bingley will not be able to take his eyes off of you tonight.”

  “Thank you, Lizzy. I admit I am excited to dance with him. Did I tell you that he asked to dance the first and supper sets?” She blushed sweetly and smiled.

  “Only a few times, but you may tell me as many times as you like. He is a good man, and I give you leave to like him.”

  “He is everything a man ought to be. He is kind and generous, and I am afraid I am half in love with him already!”

  “Only half?” teased Elizabeth.

  “Oh, Lizzy, if only I could see you so in love, my happiness would be complete. Tell me: is there such a man?” Jane did not expect an honest answer but hoped that her sister would acknowledge some feelings for Mr. Darcy. He and her Mr. Bingley, as she had begun to believe he was, were best friends, and she had secret hopes that, if she were to marry Mr. Bingley, her best friend might marry his.

  “Well, Jane, perhaps the ball tonight will provide me with such luck. I do have my first dance with Mr. Collins,” she replied with pretended anticipation. Both girls laughed and gathered their gloves to make their way downstairs.

  The rest of their family waited for them in the vestibule. An excited Mrs. Bennet was physically bobbing with anticipation and scolding Kitty not to trifle with her dress lest it leave wrinkles. Mary was standing serenely next to Mr. Collins holding some sheet music, and Lydia was admiring her looks in the large mirror on the wall.

  “Jane! Lizzy! Oh how you vex me! We shall be late with all this dallying. Hurry girls; the carriage is ready.” Mrs. Bennet spun in her skirts and hustled the other girls towards the door.

  “My dear cousins, how lovely you look this evening. You are as pearls in the sand.” Mr. Collins’s oozing voice reached them as they were halfway down the stairs. “I trust my dear Cousin Jane will not feel my neglect when I say that you, Cousin Elizabeth, are especially in looks tonight.” He smiled sweetly as he walked up the last few steps to offer the sisters his assistance down the stairs.

  Extending their hands in acceptance, the two sisters exchanged a quick chagrined smile and murmured their thanks. Elizabeth was grateful to relinquish the damp hand of her cousin upon reaching the landing.

  “Mr. Collins, you are most gracious,” she responded civilly as he followed them out to the carriage and helped them in.

  Once settled in for the ride to Netherfield, Jane and Elizabeth grasped hands as they listened to the cacophony their family made within the small confines of the carriage.

  “Kitty, scoot over! You are putting wrinkles in my dress!” Lydia whined.

  “I am not, and I am as far over as I can manage!” Kitty responded.

  “Girls! Have you no thought for my nerves? Kitty, move over and give your sister some room.”

  Kitty pouted and stomped her dancing slipper, unfortunately right onto the foot of Mary, who protested loudly and scolded Kitty for her improper behavior. At that point, Mr. Collins began extolling the qualities possessed by a Christian lady — including charity, meekness and a few more — all of which were left unheard as no one in the carriage attended to him. It was to the boundless relief of all when the Bennet carriage finally rolled to a stop in front of Netherfield.

  A servant in livery opened the carriage door and unfolded the steps. Kitty and Lydia both made for the door first; their bodies met, jamming the exit. With little grace, Lydia elbowed her sister to the side and exited the carriage first, followed by an angry Kitty, a disapproving Mary, an excited Mrs. Bennet and an imperious Mr. Co
llins.

  Elizabeth groaned and shook her head despairingly at Jane, who breathed deeply and shrugged her shoulders as she turned to exit the carriage. Elizabeth paused a moment to collect herself after Jane stepped out. Taking a deep breath, she tipped her head out the carriage door and stepped down.

  Her breath caught at the sight before her. They were standing on heavy muslin laid on the ground to allow the guests to walk into the home while avoiding dirt to their evening clothes on the way. Every room in the home was lit brightly against the night. The walkway to the steps of the house was lined with garlands of flowers on lanterns, their flames flickering in the slight breeze. It was beautiful, and a smile came to Elizabeth’s face as her excitement for the evening grew with the elegance before her. Her eyes spotted a movement in the window of an upper floor, and she turned her head towards it, but whatever had been there was now gone.

  “Shall we?” asked Jane with a bright smile as she hooked her arm in Elizabeth’s and they proceeded towards the house.

  “By all means!” Elizabeth giggled as the two girls took the steps to the house and entered the warmth of the entryway.

  After divesting themselves of their cloaks to the standing servants, they followed their family through to the receiving line.

  “I am glad to see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst again. They were so kind to me while I was ill, and I have not seen them since,” Jane whispered as they neared their hostesses. Elizabeth merely nodded. She cared not for the two sisters and did not look forward to their artificial civilities.

  “Dearest Jane! How glad we are to see you now in good health!” cried Miss Bingley, as she leaned in to give an air kiss to Jane’s cheek before turning to welcome Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth! How lovely you look this evening. I believe that gown is nearly in fashion!”

  Elizabeth was not offended by her caustic, pretended flatteries and responded with her own thinly veiled compliment. “Thank you, Miss Bingley. And may I say that I have never seen a dress in quite that color before?” Elizabeth covered her smile with her gloved hand and turned towards Mr. Bingley before his sister could decipher whether her comment was praise or not.