The Houseguest A Pride and Prejudice Vagary (18 page)

~

Elizabeth sat back in the carriage, her heart heavy and her head pounding. She
barely registered the sun rising over the buildings or the clatter on the
streets as the city awakened. She felt utterly foolish. Now, alone with her
thoughts, she could finally look at things clearly. 
She was beginning to care for Mr. Darcy, as more than a friend, and not as a
brother as she had tried to tell herself so many times. The way his deep eyes
bore into hers, the sensation he created in her when he stood nearby – these
could not be mistaken. 
Foolish, foolish
girl!
She felt completely humiliated by her feelings and her recent actions. Had her
behavior led him to believe she cared deeply for him? Elizabeth knew she wasn’t
in love with him, not yet, but she was in a fair way to getting there.
Did 
he
 think she was?
She ran over their past conversations in her mind, desperately searching for a
clue, something that would prove her indifferent – that would prove this all to
be in her mind. Unfortunately, she realized much of her behavior with him had
been playful, but could easily be considered flirtatious. 
She had been alone with him several times in the library. The door was always
left open, of course, and servants were coming in and out as needed, but still,
she had never done that with any other man besides her father or uncle. She
could only pray she hadn’t made too big a fool of herself, and that 
he
 did not think she was in love with
him. 
That was a humiliation she could not bear. He would obviously never associate
himself with her “low connections” and “vulgar, mercenary mother”.
Her feelings of embarrassment were soon overcome by her anger at Mr. Darcy. How
dare he interfere with Jane and Mr. Bingley! It was not as if it was 
he
 who would be marrying into the
“unsuitable” family! If his dislike was so strong, he could simply refrain from
visiting or attending events when they were present. The arrogance of it! Who
did he think he was? He might be Master of Pemberley, but that did not give him
the right to play with the hearts of young women, or to manipulate the lives of
decent men for his own gain or comfort. 
What did it do for him to separate them? What was his gain? Why would he do
such a thing? Bingley was still in love with Jane and apparently heart-broken
over her. At least, that was what Sir Malcolm had said. And Darcy, Bingley's
closest friend, had not denied it. 
Elizabeth felt her heart hardening toward Mr. Darcy and a blackness filling in
what had become soft and vulnerable. How could she have begun to care for such
a selfish, unfeeling, prideful man? She was ashamed of herself and of her
feelings, and of her gullibility in believing he was better than she had first
assessed him to be. 
It would seem that her first impression had been correct: he was proud,
conceited, and overly impressed with his own importance.
Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow hot with indignation when she remembered walking
with him, or talking in the library with him, or how she had looked forward to
their breakfasts together like an idiotic school girl. At that point, she did
not know who she was more disappointed in: herself for making such a mistake,
or Mr. Darcy for turning out not to be the man she had believed him to be.
She looked up to see her uncle’s home. She stepped down from the carriage to
ring the bell and was greeted by a surprised house maid.
“Hello, Sarah. Is Mr. Gardiner awake yet?”
“He is just rising, miss. He should be down soon.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Elizabeth directed the footman to leave her trunk in the hall, thanked him, and
headed to the breakfast room to await her uncle. When he finally entered, and
after expressing his surprise at seeing her there, Elizabeth asked if he could
possibly arrange for her to travel home that day. When he asked her about the hasty
departure and if Mr. Darcy had rescinded his offer to see her home in his
carriage, she told him she merely had a sudden desire to be home and that she
did not want to take advantage of the Darcys’ kindness. 
He knew something was terribly wrong, but did not press her, knowing well
enough she would only talk when she was ready.
Elizabeth watched her uncle eat, barely touching her own food, and followed him
silently to the carriage. No one else was up yet, it was only nearing seven, so
she was able to escape without the prying questions of her aunt and Jane. 
An hour later, she was sitting in a mail coach, waving to her uncle out the
window, a smile she did not feel plastered to her face.

~

Darcy knocked lightly on Georgiana’s door and let himself in at the sound of
her soft voice. He took a seat by the fireplace and looked at Georgiana. 
“Georgiana, did you have a good time last night?”
“Yes, I did. I do not know how I will become accustomed to staying up all
night, but I did enjoy the ball.”
“Did you, perchance, speak to Miss Bennet before she left?” His eyes searched
her tired face.
“No, I did not. I saw her standing next to you and Sir Malcolm between sets,
and then I did not see her again.”
Darcy did not remember talking to her with Sir Malcolm, but continued his
questioning.
“Did you have a note from her when you returned?” He tried to keep his voice
even.
“Yes, I did.” She stood to retrieve the missive and handed it to him.
He quickly grabbed it and read.
Dear Georgiana,
I have so enjoyed my time here with you and
thank you again for the gracious hospitality. I hate to leave without speaking
to you, but something has occurred which requires my immediate presence at
Longbourn. Do not worry, everyone is well, but I must return home as soon as
possible. 
I will write to you when I arrive so you
will know I am safe and I look forward to hearing all about your impressions of
your first ball. I had a wonderful time with you and have greatly enjoyed
furthering our friendship these past weeks. Please know I would not leave you
without saying goodbye if there was any other way. 
Farewell, dear friend, and I hope to hear
from you soon. 
Yours etc.,
Elizabeth Bennet
Darcy read the letter twice more, hoping to glean something from the script
besides what was written there. She did not mention him. She did not ask
Georgiana to send her regards. That was very unusual given how close they had
become. Perhaps she had left him his own letter? But no, she could not write to
him unless they were engaged, which, unfortunately, they were not. He decided
to check his study and the library, just in case.
He had a short conversation with Georgiana, ensured that she was not overly
distressed by Miss Bennet’s precipitous departure, and headed downstairs to
speak with Hawkins.
“Hawkins, can you please tell me everything about Miss Bennet’s departure?”
“Everything sir?”
“Yes. When did she arrive, what did she do, did she say anything, how did she
seem?”
“She arrived shortly before four on foot with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He said she
had a headache and asked for tea to be sent upstairs to her room. He then asked
her if she would be alright on her own to which she replied that she would.”
“And how did she seem, did she appear ill, distressed?”
“I cannot say for certain, sir, though she did appear somewhat distraught and
was rather flushed. Though that may have been from the walk in the cold air,
sir.”
“Hmm, yes. Continue, Hawkins.”
“She went directly upstairs and soon requested her trunk. She sent Hannah to
ask for a hackney to be summoned, and I took it upon myself to order the
carriage. I did not think you would like her to travel across London so early
in the morning in a hackney, sir. I hope I have not overstepped.”
“Not at all Hawkins, you were quite right to order the carriage.” Darcy looked
out the window thoughtfully, then turned back to the butler. “Did Miss Bennet
receive a letter today? Was there anything waiting for her when she returned?”
“No sir, nothing at all.”
“Well, finish it for me man. What next?”
“The trunk was quickly packed and loaded, Miss Bennet expressed surprise when
she saw the carriage, I convinced her to take it, and she asked me to bid
farewell to Cook and Mrs. Hawkins. Then she left.” Hawkins looked at Mr. Darcy
sympathetically. “She did seem rather distressed, sir.”
“Thank you, Hawkins. That will be all.”
Darcy sat in his chair and pondered this new information. Fitzwilliam told Lady
Matlock and Hawkins that Elizabeth had a headache. Alright, that might be
enough reason to leave the ball early, but with Colonel Fitzwilliam and without
speaking to Lady Matlock or himself, or even Georgiana? Then she packed up
almost as soon as she returned and headed to Cheapside, in a hackney! Or at
least she would have if Hawkins hadn’t stepped in. 
She left Georgiana a note saying something required her immediate attention at
home, but she was due to head back to Hertfordshire tomorrow as it was. Why go
only a day early? She wrote no one was unwell and she had received no letter
from Longbourn that day.
It would appear she had fled. Fled the ball and fled Darcy House. Why on earth
would she do that? And not even say goodbye to him? She could have mentioned
him in her note to Georgiana, or even asked Hawkins to give him a message. She
had asked him to say goodbye to the housekeeper and the cook, why not to
him? 
Elizabeth knew how he felt about carriages, they had recently discussed it. If
she wanted to go home, surely she knew that he would send her in his carriage
directly. 
For some reason she did not
want my assistance in leaving the ball or getting back to Hertfordshire. She
wouldn’t even use my carriage! What has happened?

~

Elizabeth climbed down from the coach onto the streets of Meryton. She asked
the innkeeper if she could please leave her trunk with him until her father
sent for it. She then said goodbye to her uncle's servant and began the mile
long walk to Longbourn. 
By most standards, Elizabeth was an excellent walker. She was fast, never
tripped, and possessed great stamina. But now, after a full day of activity, a
night of dancing, and another half day on the road, with nothing more than the
half hour of sleep she had managed in her uncle’s carriage, she felt herself flagging.
Once she was out of sight of the town, she ducked into a little copse of trees
and sat on a fallen log. She rested her elbows on her knees and held her head
in her hands. 
She had not yet let herself cry. She had had a few moments of privacy on her
way to her uncle’s, but she was too filled with thoughts to release her
emotions completely. She was about to do so now, when she remembered that her
eyes would be red and in conjunction with her unexpected arrival, would send
her mother into a fit of questions she did not want to answer. She got up,
shook off her anxiety, and continued home.
She slipped into a side door at Longbourn, hoping she could go up the back
stairs and make it to her room without being seen. She could hear Mary
practicing on the pianoforte in the music room, but otherwise the house seemed
quiet. She imagined her father was in his bookroom as usual, and not hearing
them, she assumed Kitty, Lydia and her mother were out. She gratefully entered
her own room and untied her bonnet, throwing it onto a nearby chair. Mrs. Hill
heard her and came in to welcome her home and offer tea. Elizabeth accepted
readily and asked her to send a man to the inn to fetch her trunk.
Elizabeth was now so overcome with exhaustion that she unceremoniously stripped
off her dress, turned down the bed, and went to fetch her nightgown. That was
when she realized that all three of her winter nightgowns and her dressing gown
were in her trunk, at the inn at Meryton. Giving an exasperated sigh, she
swiftly ran into the hall to Kitty and Lydia’s room, hoping none of the male
servants would choose that moment to come upstairs and see her in her shift.
She quickly took one of Kitty’s gowns and dashed back to her own room. She let
her hair down and brushed it out, put on the nightgown, and crawled into bed.
Mrs. Hill entered with a tray of tea and biscuits, a little ham and bread on a
plate next to it. 
“You seemed to be a peckish, Miss.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hill.” Elizabeth found herself near tears at her kindness and
sent her away, asking her not to let anyone know she was back until she had
gotten a few hours of sleep. She picked numbly at the food and sipped her tea,
staring unseeingly into the fire. The curtains were drawn and though it was the
middle of the afternoon, her room was dim, the glow from the fire the only
light. 
She lay back on her pillows, her eyes heavy, and tried to sleep. She finally
released her pent-up emotions as silent sobs wracked her body and hot tears
spilled down her cheeks, soaking her pillow and exhausting her further. She
eventually drifted to sleep, images of brooding countenances and stormy eyes
filling her dreams. 

~

“Miss Bingley is here, sir. Are you at home?” Hawkins asked Mr. Darcy.
“Miss Bingley? Isn’t she here for Miss Darcy?” He looked up from his desk
warily.
“Miss Darcy will not be down for a quarter hour, sir. Should I send her away or
ask her to wait?”
“Send her to the drawing room. I shall be there shortly.” The last thing he
wanted to do was talk to Caroline Bingley, but she was here and the sister of
his good friend. Where was Georgiana? He quickly climbed the stairs, careful to
avoid Miss Bingley, and knocked on her door.
“Georgiana? It is William. May I come in?”
She opened the door slowly, and he saw she was wearing a dressing gown and her
hair was let down over her shoulders.
“Georgie, are you well?”
“Yes, Brother, I am well. I am simply tired.”
He could tell by her eyes that something else was amiss, and he was afraid it
was the same thing that was ailing him. “Are you missing Miss Bennet, dearest?”
“Oh, William!” She ran into his arms and buried her face into his chest, her
shoulders shaking with gentle sobs.
“Dearest, do not cry. All will be well.” He rubbed her back and kissed the top
of her head, just as he had done when she was little and hurt. “You will see
her again soon.” He dearly wished it was true, for at that moment, he was so
confused and angry he almost wanted to join Georgiana in her crying and rid
himself of the questions torturing his mind. He led her to a sofa by the fire
and they sat down, Darcy softly stroking her hair.
“I know I am being silly. I so wanted to tell her all about the ball and sit
together once more before she left. I hate that I didn’t get to say goodbye. I
know she wrote me and that she would not have gone if it weren’t very
important, but…”
“You love her and worry for her and wish she was here with you now,” he
finished for her.
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. “Does that make me terribly selfish?”
“No dearest, it is not selfish to love your friend or to wish she were not in
distress or even to want to spend time with her. You became very close while
she was here and your feelings are perfectly natural.”
“Thank you, William.” She snuggled into his chest and he comforted her for a
few more minutes before speaking.
“Dearest, Miss Bingley is downstairs.” Georgiana burrowed deeper. “Will you
come down or shall I send her away?”
“Oh!” she sighed heavily. “Do not send her away; I shall see her. Will you join
me?”
“Of course, sweetling. Now run along and get dressed. I’ll go down and
entertain Miss Bingley until you are ready.”
Georgiana kissed his cheek. “Thank you, William. I will be quick.” She rose and
headed into her dressing room.
Downstairs, Darcy went straight to the drawing room. It was one of his least
favorite rooms in the house, only used for formal gatherings and brief
acquaintances. Close friends and family were received in either the music room
or the sitting room upstairs, or in Darcy’s study. He stepped into the opulent
room, done in emerald green and deep gold, and steeled himself for the
interview that was to come.
“Miss Bingley, I am sorry to keep you waiting. Georgiana will be detained a few
minutes longer.” He took the seat across from her, putting as much distance as
was polite between them.
Caroline seemed quite pleased by his presence and their tête-à-tête. “It is no
trouble at all, Mr. Darcy.”
How was it that with only one sentence, she was already annoying him? There was
something in her tone; the words seemed to drip from her mouth, and the way she
said ‘Mr. Darcy’ made him shift uncomfortably in his chair.
“Are you well, Miss Bingley? And Mr. and Mrs. Hurst?”
“I am quite well, sir, as are all my family.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“Did you attend the ball last night, Mr. Darcy?” she was looking at him as if
they shared a secret, and it reminded Darcy of how he and Elizabeth had shared
a private joke last night, only that had been much more pleasant.
“Yes, I did, Miss Bingley. It was quite enjoyable,” he added, hoping to stem
off her next question.
“Really? I thought you did not enjoy balls as a rule.”
Darcy only smiled. “It was Georgiana’s first ball and she was able to dance
with the family. It was pleasant to see her enjoying herself.” 
“I do wish I could have been there to help her. It is so important to have
another woman with you at your first ball,” she simpered.
“I am sure you are right, Miss Bingley, but she did have Lady Matlock,” Miss
Bingley nodded, “and of course Miss Bennet.”
Caroline’s mouth dropped open most unbecomingly. “Miss Bennet?” she asked a
little too loudly. She saw Darcy looking at her critically and quickly
recovered herself. “I suppose she and Miss Darcy have become friends while she
was staying in London.”
“Yes, they have become closer, though they were friends before this visit.”
Caroline would not be beat out by that country chit again. “I suppose she
enjoyed calling here, as it must have been a pleasant change from her uncle’s
home in Cheapside,” she nearly spat the last word. “And of course you would
never permit Miss Darcy to travel 
there
.”
Darcy did not like her tone and knew what she was doing, just as he had known
what she was doing in Hertfordshire when she had so emphatically criticized
Elizabeth at every possible opportunity. He conveniently ignored the fact that
it was true that he had not allowed Georgiana to travel to Cheapside.
“There was no need to call, Miss Bingley. Miss Bennet has been staying here, as
Miss Darcy’s personal guest.”
Caroline’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened, giving the impression of a
fish gasping for air. As ungentlemanly as he knew it to be, Darcy had to fight
the urge to laugh.
“They have gotten along splendidly. I do believe they are closer than ever
now,” he added. “I am surprised you did not know she was staying here, Miss
Bingley. Miss Bennet mentioned that she saw you while out shopping with Lady
Matlock.”
Caroline gave her head a little shake and spoke unsteadily, “Yes, I did see
them at the modiste. I suppose I thought it was just a shopping trip together,
though I did think it a little 
odd
 for
Lady Matlock to be in company with Miss Eliza Bennet.” She could not keep the
derisive edge out of her voice.
“Oh, yes, Miss Bennet has become quite the favorite of my aunt. She was her
personal guest at the ball last night. I should not be surprised if Lady
Matlock issues her an invitation to her future balls.”
Caroline was perilously close to losing her temper completely. “Miss Bennet was
her personal guest at the ball?” She had never been invited to one of Lady
Matlock’s exclusive balls. They were talked of and looked forward to with great
anticipation, and the following days’ society pages were always filled with
news of who was there and what they were wearing. How dare that country chit
come in and take her invitation? 
She
should
be Lady Matlock’s particular guest and personal favorite!
“Yes, and quite sought after, I might add.” Darcy was never this voluble with
guests, especially with women, and certainly not with Caroline Bingley, but
since he had decided in favor of Elizabeth, he could not bear to hear anything
said against her, and thought it was high time he put Caroline Bingley in her
place. And he had to admit, he enjoyed doing it. Perhaps Elizabeth’s teasing
nature had worn off on him more than he’d realized. “I don’t believe she had a
single set free.”
“Oh?” Caroline did not like his gaze or this conversation, and she was not
blind to the fact that he had never spoken to her like this before. “And did
you dance every dance as well, Mr. Darcy?” Caroline knew it was imprudent, but
she wanted to know for certain if he’d danced with Elizabeth and couldn’t stop
herself from asking when so convenient an opening was before her.
“Only twice each with Miss Bennet and Georgiana, and one or two others.” He had
only danced once with Elizabeth, but he had asked for and been accepted for a
second, so he felt this little untruth was permissible.
Miss Bingley lifted her nose and chin in the air and was about to respond when
Georgiana entered the room.
“Miss Bingley, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting!”
“My dear Miss Darcy, it was no trouble at all,” she smiled
ingratiatingly. 
Darcy wanted to leave, but had promised Georgiana he would stay, so he sat back
and watched their interactions, only interjecting when necessary.
“Miss Darcy, your brother tells me you danced at the ball last night. Did you
enjoy yourself?”
“Yes, Miss Bingley, it was a lovely occasion. All my family were kind enough to
dance with me.” She sent Darcy a thankful smile.
“It was our pleasure, Georgiana,” he replied, and smiled back at her.
“Tell me everything! I want to know all the details!” Miss Bingley leaned
forward and put her hand on Georgiana’s.
Georgiana reflexively leaned back. She couldn’t explain it, but she did not
want to have this conversation with Miss Bingley. She had wanted to discuss
this with Elizabeth, and somehow sharing it with Caroline first just seemed
wrong. 
“I must beg you to excuse me, Miss Bingley. I am afraid I am rather tired and I
could not currently do the ball justice. Let’s speak of it next time we meet.”
She tried to smile sweetly.
Caroline did not like it, but she could not force her, so she replied, “Of
course, dear Miss Darcy, you must be exhausted! You are not used to dancing so
much or being up so late, I agree you must feel quite tired.”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley.”
They spoke of uninteresting topics, such as the weather, for another quarter
hour, until Miss Bingley took her leave.
Georgiana sighed heavily and went to the music room to play, and Darcy headed
to the library. He sat in front of the fire, trying to glean what was left of
Elizabeth’s presence from the room, and brooded until dinner. 
Tomorrow morning he would go to Gracechurch Street and seek Elizabeth. He could
only hope that the coach would be sold out and she wouldn’t have already left.
He wished Caroline Bingley hadn’t come; he might have been able to go to
Gracechurch Street today, but now it was too late to pay a call. He would simply
have to wait till morning. 
Then he would get some answers.