Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (24 page)

The next morning, the ladies met to talk over the ball. This was a custom they always practised in Meryton and it was no less necessary here, since Lydia was not staying with the rest of the family.

Lydia and Kitty had thought the ball a great success because they had danced every dance, and they were young enough to want nothing else from a ball.

Mary had thought it a success since she had, for the first time ever, enjoyed herself at a ball. Mr Manningham had been there and he had danced with her twice. Then he had taken her into supper. He had complimented her on her gown and told her she looked charming.

Mrs Stacey had been impressed by his attentions. She knew the family and said that he was a very eligible gentleman. Several ladies had set their caps at him but he had eluded their grasp, saying he found them frivolous. In Mary he seemed to have found a young lady more to his tastes.

Mrs Bennet was astonished, saying, ‘Mary? A young man is interested in Mary? And he is an eligible gentleman, you say?’

But on being assured that it was so she quickly changed her tune, for she was not slow to accept any compliment towards one of her girls. She said that Mary must have another new gown.

Elizabeth and Jane did not share their true feelings with the rest of the family. They said only that it had been very agreeable. But, alone, they talked it over in all its detail. Elizabeth told Jane all about her dance with Mr Darcy and Jane said, ‘I think he is in love with you, Lizzy.’

Elizabeth was not so certain.

‘I am not sure if he has forgiven me,’ she said. ‘His manner was distant, at least to begin with.’

‘It is not surprising, if he had seen you with Mr Wickham.’

‘He made no mention of seeing me again.’

‘Perhaps he knows it is inevitable, now that you are both in Brussels,’ said Jane.

‘Perhaps,’ said Elizabeth.

A meeting took place sooner than she expected, for on the next morning, when she and her family went sightseeing with Mrs Stacey, she saw Mr Darcy as they entered one of the museums. He was there with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Both gentlemen bowed and the ladies curtseyed in return.

Elizabeth was not sure what to expect, but it soon became apparent that Mr Darcy intended to please. He was polite to Mr and Mrs Gardiner, expressing an interest in everything they had to say. He was patient with Mrs Bennet, and when she began on her old, familiar grievance, saying that Mr Bingley had quit Netherfield very suddenly, Mr Darcy surprised them all by saying, ‘He did. But he is on his way to Brussels and I know that Lady Fitzwilliam would be delighted if you would come to tea so that you can meet him. Mr Bingley will be here on Thursday and it will be a chance to meet old friends.’

They were all astonished, but Mrs Bennet managed to say they would be delighted and Mr Darcy bowed in reply.

‘What can this mean?’ Elizabeth asked Jane in an undertone, as she clung to her sister’s arm.

She remembered her conversation with Mr Darcy at the ball, particularly their last exchange. She said that she would never welcome the attentions of a man who had caused so much pain. She meant Mr Wickham, and, at the time, she had thought Mr Darcy had taken her meaning. Except, a moment later, she had seen his brow furrow and now she knew what it meant. He had thought that, perhaps, that she had been referring to him separating Jane and Mr Bingley.

And so he had set out to put matters right. What a kind and honourable gesture! What a truly noble act.

A smile of pure happiness beamed out of her and she turned towards Mr Darcy. As he saw her smile, a warm, tender smile spread over his own face. It came from inside him and lightened every feature. It came from his soul.

When Elizabeth could tear her eyes away from him she said to her sister, ‘It means that Mr Darcy has seen the error of his ways. He means to reunite you.’

‘Mr Bingley likes Mr Darcy, I know, but even Mr Darcy cannot order someone to love,’ said Jane in a low voice.

Elizabeth knew she must tell Jane the truth. She would not do it here, in public, but as soon as they were alone she would tell her.

They had by this time walked around the museum and examined its treasures. After some polite conversation about the exhibits they bowed and curtseyed in preparation for leaving each other. Then Mr Darcy said, ‘I wonder if I might have the honour of presenting my sister to you?’

Elizabeth smiled and said, ‘Thank you. I would like that.’

‘Then she will join us for tea,’ he said.

He bowed over her hand. Colonel Fitzwilliam did likewise. And then the gentlemen took their leave.

‘Well. This is proving an interesting holiday,’ said Mrs Gardiner, with a perceptive look at Elizabeth.

‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth with a smile. ‘It is indeed.’

After the delights of the morning, Elizabeth found the afternoon much more difficult to bear. She told Jane about Mr Darcy’s interference in her affairs.

‘He thought you were not in love with his friend and so he did not realise how much hurt he was causing,’ Elizabeth finished.

‘Poor Charles!’ said Jane.

It was typical of her good nature to think of others. She did not feel bitter towards Mr Darcy, nor sorry for herself. Instead, she felt sorry for Mr Bingley, who had been persuaded to believe that she did not care for him.

‘Poor Charles will be amply rewarded for his pains next week, I think?’ asked Elizabeth. ‘You do love him, don’t you Jane?’

‘Yes,’ said Jane. ‘I do. But I wonder . . .’ She faltered.

‘You wonder if he loves you?’

‘Yes,’ Jane admitted.

‘I am sure of it,’ said Elizabeth. ‘No one who had seen him with you could doubt it. But you do not need to take my word for it. You will find out for yourself soon enough.’

‘It will seem a long week,’ said Jane.

‘It will soon pass,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Meanwhile, we have many more places to see and interesting things to do. Brussels is a fascinating city.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Jane. ‘You are right, Lizzy. We are lucky to be here. How many young ladies have a chance to travel as we have done? Very few.’

The young ladies made the most of their stay. They saw the sights and shopped in the Rue des Anglais. They had dress fittings and walked in the parks and soaked up the atmosphere. The city was full of people of every nationality. There were Austrian archdukes and Russian princes and Prussians galore. There were colonels and generals, dressed in uniforms of every hue. There was the sound of bugles and the beating of drums and fashionable people everywhere.

Lydia confided to Kitty that Mr Wickham had asked her to elope with him. He had run up large gambling debts and decided to abandon his plan of joining the regular army. He intended to go to America and wanted a companion for the journey.

‘La! What a joke it would be, to run away with him and then write a letter to Mama, signing myself Lydia Wickham! But one of the Austrian dukes keeps sending me nosegays and there is a Russian prince who says I am the most beautiful girl in the world, and I would rather be a duchess or a princess than a plain
Mrs
. So I told Wickham he must find someone else to run away with him!’

Mary continued to see Mr Manningham. He was polite and attentive, and Mary blossomed. She had her hair styled in a different way, with soft curls framing her face. Together with her new clothes, she looked like a different person. She had always looked like a dowdy schoolgirl, but she was not in fact so young. She was nineteen years old and she now looked her age. So improved was she that more than one head turned to look at her as she walked past.

So, all in all, the family were kept occupied for the following week.

As the day of the tea drew near, both Elizabeth and Jane started to feel nervous.

Elizabeth did not know for sure what it meant. Had Mr Darcy relented? Did he still like her? Did he even love her? Did he – might be possibly – still want to marry her? Or had he just realised he had been rude and did he now want to make up for that?

Jane worried that Mr Bingley might have forgotten her.

So that by the time they dressed for their afternoon at Lady Fitzwilliam’s house they were both feeling uncomfortable.

They were the only members of their party who were. Everyone else was looking forward to the honour. Indeed, Mrs Bennet could not stop talking about it.

‘Dear Lady Fitzwilliam has invited us to tea,’ she said to every chance acquaintance. ‘Do you know Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam? We were at their ball last week. My daughter Elizabeth knows the entire family. She was a guest of Lady Catherine de Bourgh over Easter when she stayed at Rosings.’

Elizabeth  blushed at this blatant untruth, but when she took her mother to task in private, Mrs Bennet said, ‘You must not worry so much over details, Lizzy. You were a guest at Rosings, and whether you were a guest at the parsonage or at the Park makes no difference.’

‘It makes every difference,’ said Elizabeth.

But her mother would not be silenced and continued to talk about her dear friend, Lady Fitzwilliam, and her daughter’s dear friend, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, wherever she went. And when they climbed in the carriage that was to take them to Lady Fitzwilliam’s house, Mrs Bennet told the driver of their destination in such a loud voice that all the passers-by heard.

‘Never fear, Lizzy,’ said Mrs Gardiner in low tones, as she took her seat next to Elizabeth. ‘I will distract your Mama this afternoon and I will not let her show you up. I will do everything in my power to stop her embarrassing you.’

‘Thank you, Aunt,’ said Elizabeth in heartfelt tones.

The ride was a short one. They arrived at the familiar destination and were shown in. The drawing-room was immense, with very high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling curtains which were held back with brocade ropes. The furniture was all gilded and there were vases of flowers on the occasional tables. They filled the room with perfume.

But Elizabeth had eyes for nothing except Mr Darcy. His fine figure was displayed when he made her a bow and the light tan of his face showed up well against his white cravat. His tailcoat was cut in the latest style and his breeches had been replaced with pantaloons.

Colonel Fitzwilliam then bowed over Elizabeth’s hand and she tore her gaze, with difficulty, away from Mr Darcy.

‘I am afraid my mother has been detained,’ he said. ‘She has asked me to welcome you in her place.’

‘I am sure that is very good of her,’ said Mrs Bennet graciously.

She had no objection to being received by a gentleman instead of a lady, particularly as she had so many daughters unwed.

There was a third gentleman in the room. It was Mr Bingley.

‘You left us very suddenly at Christmas,’ said Mrs Bennet accusingly.

Poor Mr Bingley did not know where to look.

‘Mr Bingley had business to attend to, Mama,’ said Elizabeth, in his defence.

Jane was so embarrassed she could only look at the floor.

‘You must return to Netherfield as soon as we are all in England again,’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘Remember, Mr Bingley, you promised to take dinner with us before you ran away to London and we expect you to keep your promise.’

‘I would be delighted,’ said Mr Bingley, who had by now recovered his poise.

‘And may I present my sister?’ said Mr Darcy.

He drew forward a lovely young lady whom Elizabeth had seen in glimpses over the last few weeks, but never met. Miss Darcy was tall – taller than Elizabeth – and she had a womanly figure. She was not as good looking as her brother but she was pleasant to look at all the same.

Elizabeth remembered Mr Wickham’s words, that Miss Darcy was spoilt and haughty, but Elizabeth saw almost at once that Miss Darcy was only shy.

All Elizabeth’s awkwardness disappeared as she did her best to put the younger woman at ease.

‘Miss Darcy likes to draw,’ said Colonel Fitzwilliam, to help the conversation along.

‘Do you have any sketches I might see?’ asked Elizabeth.

Miss Darcy murmured a few incoherent words, but Mrs Annesley brought her sketch book forward and placed it in Miss Darcy’s hands. Elizabeth made out, from Miss Darcy’s shy utterances, that she had made some sketched on board the ship.

Elizabeth took the book and saw that Miss Darcy had talent. Miss Darcy had sketched her brother and Elizabeth took real pleasure in looking at those sketches, for they had caught Mr Darcy’s personality.

‘I think in this one my brother was not feeling well,’ said Miss Darcy softly.

It was the longest sentence she had uttered, and Elizabeth was glad the young woman was starting to feel more confident, although she still spoke very shyly.

She turned the book round so that Elizabeth could see the sketch the right way up and Elizabeth gave a start. Mr Darcy looked devastated.

‘My brother had just come down from the deck,’ said Miss Darcy. ‘I believe the motion of the ship did not agree with him.’

‘No. The pitching of a ship can cause all kinds of unpleasantness,’ said Elizabeth with a glance in Mr Darcy’s direction.