Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (38 page)

The tossing and turning finally got the best of her. Arising to sit on the windowsill and stare at the night sky, she resolved to avoid him until she could learn exactly what was being said of him in the neighbourhood. Her father could accept his apology without her presence; and then carefully, without calling attention to her interest, try to ascertain what he had discerned of Mr Darcy and why he was in the neighbourhood.

Her mind went in a different direction, and she wished she could talk to him privately. She missed their discussions. Had he revised his ill opinion of her because of Anne’s confession?

Darcy had hesitated to retire until Bingley, his sisters and Mr Hurst’s arrived back at Netherfield. He wanted to learn what had happened after his departure. While he waited, he stared at the fire and drank to dull the edge of his apprehension and mortification. The fire’s glow brought to mind a beautiful young woman, her belly filled with Bethany, reading in the candlelight. Originally he had been drawn to Miss Elizabeth’s joy, but when that had been extinguished, he had come to admire the young woman’s seriousness laced with humour. The brandy also urged him to remember her soft sensuousness. Even Lewis could see that quality in the Fragonard at not quite four. Oh how he wished he could take back his remark to Miss Bingley; and even more he wished he had not come to Hertfordshire. He was not in a mood to confront his life’s greatest conundrum so close on the heels of Ramsgate.

For five years, Miss Elizabeth had been the subject of his most private thoughts, and shamefully they were all too often inappropriate. In the beginning, shortly after Bethany’s birth, he had often tried to sketch her character but was always unsuccessful. The thought of that day he met her leaving Darcy House caused him to shudder. Deep in his soul, he feared Edmund had taken advantage of her, and somehow Anne had helped. Despite his anxiety about his family’s actions, he clung to the belief that a well-bred young woman would not have allowed herself to be violated by a cad, even if he was a viscount.

After a few more sips, questions arose to counter his assumption. How could he be certain she was at fault? Perhaps, her situation had been like Georgiana’s. His sister had agreed to be alone with Wickham. But, he could not find it in himself to blame Georgiana for what was surely the fault of Wickham and Mrs Younge. Darcy realized with disgust he had insisted that same woman must travel with Miss Elizabeth—for propriety’s sake!

His mind as always returned to the most damning fact. Regardless of the circumstances, Miss Elizabeth had been intelligent enough to realize she could gain from her situation. Where he disliked the memory of the haunted child walking to Cheapside, he never shied from being incensed by the vision of the fifteen-year-old in her green silk dress negotiating. Her demands, given with unflinching purpose and cool disdain, definitely showed a lack of breeding. Georgiana would never try to turn such a situation into monetary betterment.

He thought back to the conversation he had overheard at White’s. Friends of his cousin had been laughing about his latest conquest. “Lord Wolfbridge persuaded a very young thing to submit. He said she even helped with her buttons.” If they had been talking about Miss Elizabeth, that would imply she was a willing participant. Darcy recalled the discussion with Edmund at Bethany’s baptism that supported this version of events. “She removed her clothes as an enticement. She wanted to become the next Countess of Elderton.” Darcy shook that memory aside. His cousin was hardly one he should believe. He recalled the other titbit he heard at White’s. “The silly chit was concerned about her sister’s reputations.” Still, a proper young lady would have put up a struggle if someone were trying to compromise her. None of the servants at Darcy House had ever indicated that a woman had been trying to fight off unwelcome advances from Edmund.

Finally after three brandies, he succeeded in persuading himself that she had known what she was doing all along. She was from a different class… they did not have the same sense of propriety. Yes, her father was a gentleman, but every one of her other relations was in trade. That class only cared about money… never about honour.

What was he to make of her sister’s attachment to John Reynolds? That seemed to fly in the face of their being mercenary. His family was in service. That was much worse than being in trade. John seemed to be revered within the Bennet family as a son… even before the marriage. And then there was Mr Collins… Darcy had always thought Lady Catherine’s parson to be obsequious toward his aunt. Somehow he seemed different tonight. One thing was certain; Miss Mary Bennet was not obsequious. She had been an odd combination of righteous indignation towards him, and a passionate protector of a beloved sister.

Mrs Bennet seemed vulgar and very competitive with her neighbours. Her desire for prominence seemed to be the source of her aspirations for Miss Bennet to be admired by Bingley. Whatever her motive, she was definitely enamoured of his income.

The daughter, Lydia, the one who was just out, was very forward. She did not seem to wait for proper introductions to begin a conversation with one or another of the officers. As he stared into the fire to ponder their shortcomings, he suddenly remembered that Bethany was both competitive and forward. Those characteristics in her had always made him laugh, but now he considered that he should try to discourage them in the future. She obviously took after her mother and her mother’s family in many ways.

Darcy’s brandy fogged brain indulged in reminiscing about his interactions with Bethany’s mother, and how she, unlike anyone else, except perhaps Richard, could make him laugh. He was positive Miss Elizabeth had purposely tried to make him laugh several times, and those occasions were some of his fondest memories of her. He would be dishonest if he did not admit he enjoyed talking books, theatre, and even politics with her. She had given her opinions very decidedly for one so young.

Once he thought she had flirted with him… how inappropriate to flirt with a married man. Maybe she thought it a way to extract even more money from him? After Anne died, during a period of intense loneliness, and when Bethany and Lewis were still quite small, he had briefly thought of proposing a less than legitimate relationship to her. He had quickly abandoned the idea because he instinctually knew she would be offended and refuse; and he would be dishonoured in his own eyes… not to mention the danger to his daughter. Miss Bingley had said the local gossip was that she refused to marry. He knew her money to be safe from an unscrupulous husband because it was with her uncle… so why was she reticent?

He had resented her fear of being touched by him; especially since it was obvious she had not the same qualms about Dr Wilder. Someone who was flirting for financial gain would not express such revulsion. Out of the blue, he thought of her toes. He thought of her wading with Mrs Hinton’s children and he thought of her bare feet as she lay on the floor quoting Shakespeare. Her feet were small, and her toes were perfectly shaped. He had not seen that many women’s bare feet, but he was certain hers were the loveliest. He wished he could kiss her toes. He was startled out of his reverie by the sounds of someone’s arrival. He blushed at what he had been unconsciously imagining.

When Bingley’s sisters came in, they were chattering on about the assembly and how common the participants were. Next they went on and on about how out of fashion their gowns were. They were sure none of the young ladies had ever had a gown from London. They found it particularly droll that one young woman had dressed to echo the militia officers’ uniforms—they believed she was a Bennet.

Mr Hurst got himself a brandy and plopped himself down on one of the sofas. “Damn waste of a good evening. I would have much preferred to stay home and play cards. Most of the men at the assembly preferred dancing to games.”

Mrs Hurst was a little tipsy, and giggled at some news she had heard. “Mr Darcy, did you know that one of the Bennet sisters has an understanding with your housekeeper’s nephew? Charles, I am sure that is something to think about with regard Miss Jane Bennet.”

Between Bingley and Darcy, there had grown a very steady friendship since the day Bethany had approached the angelic looking man in the park. In spite of their great opposition of character, Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper—and Darcy most appreciated his lack of duplicity. In contrast, Bingley’s sisters specialized in intrigue, and were forever calculating how to get the best position at a table, or in Caroline’s case, the best escort into dinner, which in her opinion was, of course, Darcy. He knew Mrs Hurst had fired the first shot in the sisters’ battle to protect their brother from an unsuitable match.

The manner in which Bingley spoke of the Meryton assembly was as Darcy expected—and certain to frustrate his sisters. “I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life. Everybody was most kind and attentive to me. I perceived no formality, no stiffness and I became acquainted with all in the room quickly. Miss Bennet is the most beautiful and pleasing woman of my acquaintance. She is an angel, and I plan to call on her on Monday.”

Darcy chuckled inwardly at the predictability of his response and the image of one angel finding another. What would Bethany think of her aunt, the angelic Miss Bennet, who had captured the imagination of her angelic friend, Mr Bingley?

The superior sisters allowed Miss Bennet was quite lovely but were concerned for her inferior familial ties. Miss Bingley said, “I heard that the Bennet family’s near relations are almost entirely in trade, and the marriage of one daughter to Mr Reynolds will definitely reduce their standing.”

With only a slight slurring of his words, Darcy said, “Ah yes, Bingley, your Miss Bennet is very lovely, but I did notice she seemed reserved with regards to the admiration she received. But, you are correct; she definitely looks like an angel.” Suddenly the mixture of horror and humour of the night liberally laced with strong spirits hit him, and he became positively giddy as he said, “I am certain Bethany would agree and think it prophetic that her angel is enamoured of another angel. As you know, I have promised to apologize to Miss Elizabeth and Mr Bennet. I will accompany you on Monday. I think I have had too much to drink, so I will be retiring for the night.”

Darcy left the room and climbed the stairs to his room. He knew he would dream of her tonight.

28 A GOOD WOMAN IS EVEN HARDER TO FIND

Elizabeth felt the need to put off the inevitable meeting with Mr Darcy. She feigned a headache on Sunday morning, and her family went to services without her. On Monday at breakfast, she told her father she was going to walk to Meryton to check on some books she had ordered. She figured once there, she could spend the day with Charlotte. Elizabeth suspected her father knew she was dissembling, but she thought this was a better plan than meeting Mr Darcy without being prepared.

Mary and her father were both concerned and curious about what Elizabeth found frightening about Mr Darcy’s apology. When alone, they speculated it had something to do with her mysterious sojourn in Derbyshire. Mary told her father of Mr Darcy’s odd question about whether Mr Collins had shared his observations of Lady Catherine’s family with Elizabeth. She further elaborated that she had warned William not to tell Lizzy anything about the connection between the two, and also not to divulge to Lady Catherine that he had met Mr Darcy in Hertfordshire. At first, he was hesitant to comply because he seemed to be in the habit of telling his patroness everything; but Mary was fixed in her opinion that her way was the best. It would not do for Lady Catherine to learn of the incivility of her son-in-law toward her sister from Mr Collins. Surely he did not want to have to tell her the mortifying circumstances—and he would be forced to share that information if he was to disclose meeting him in Hertfordshire. Mr Bennet was impressed with the powers of persuasion over her betrothed exhibited by his middle daughter.

For five years, Mr Bennet had been unsuccessful in devising tactics to induce Lizzy to provide information about her loss of liveliness. She had steadfastly stuck to the story of helping the widow Thomas until she died, and alluded to the fact that her death had saddened her. Mr Bennet knew she was not telling him the truth, but over the years, he was never able to convince her to confess the truth of the situation.