Darcy played with his response. “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them.You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.” At this point he left a pregnant pause to increase the drama of the situation. “If the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”
Take that, Elizabeth Bennet;the thought briefly slid across his mind. His eyes met Elizabeth’s, burrowing deep into the green pools and locking in a secret desire. Maintaining his gaze, Darcy heard Miss Bingley’s stunned response, “Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
Darcy waited with anticipation for Elizabeth’s response. “Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.” He never expected she would dare to laugh at him.As much as he hoped to maintain her gaze, Darcy experienced a momentary glint of uncertainty and dropped his eyes, breaking the bond.
Naturally, Miss Bingley could never speak ill of Darcy; she desired his good opinion too much to defy him on any subject. Elizabeth, carried away with the mirth of the situation, could not allow her love of nonsense to wane. “Mr. Darcy does nothing which might amuse his friends? I would not require many such friends for I dearly love a laugh.”
Not able to abandon the serious armor, which served him well in the past, Darcy assumed an air of superiority as he said, “Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be.The wisest and best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”
Without thinking of its effect, Elizabeth, amused by her own cleverness, replied, “Certainly, there are such people, but I hope I am not one ofthem. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies,dodivert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”
Having spent his life hating any form of weakness, Darcy’s affectionate gaze took on a steeled impalement; nearly biting the words, he said, “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid such weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”
“What sort of weaknesses, Mr. Darcy? Would, say, vanity or possibly pride be such a weakness?” she retorted.
Swallowing hard, Darcy steadied himself before giving a response. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”
Elizabeth’s suppression of a smile surprised Darcy. He found nothing amusing in what he said; he meant his response to be aserious, diplomatic answer. He began to think she went too far. Amusing repartee was one thing, but he would not be her target, no matter what attraction he felt for this insipid miss. Miss Bingley regretted the beginning of this folly and begged an end to it. Elizabeth feigned innocence and coquettishly played down her affront. “I agree with you, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy has no faults; perfection is within his reach.”
“No,” Darcy snapped. “I have made no such pretension,” he stammered. Elizabeth, obviously, knew nothing of superior society. “I have faults enough,” he continued, “but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”
Earlier Elizabeth defended Bingley’s appearing to be humbled, but she now attacked him! Darcy came to the speedy conclusion she knew nothing about him and cared not to recognize his worth. He misjudged Elizabeth Bennet’s excellence! His full being pulled back from the woman to whom he gave his attention of late.“Your faults, as you define them, Mr. Darcy, are not open to scorn; possibly they are a bit too dark in nature, but they are not failings. I will not laugh at you, Mr. Darcy; you have nothing to fear from me.”
She gave him a slight curtsy and started to turn away.Wait this is not finished!Before Elizabeth could take an exit step, he froze her in place by coldly saying, “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
“Andyourdefect is to hate everybody.”
“And yours, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.” For a moment they held each other’s application; then, Darcy nodded his head to allow Elizabeth to return to her sister. His emotional turmoil became difficult toconceal from the rest of the room. He discovered paying so much attention to Elizabeth Bennet dangerous.
Darcy fortified his resolve to banish his blossoming feelings for Elizabeth. She had been at Netherfield for only a few days, and he neared an obsession with her. Elizabeth appeared in his thoughts throughout the day and danced in his dreams at night. Today he would take no notice of her. He would not allow her hopes to develop, especially if his previous actions suggested his regard for her.What he did her last days at Netherfield would give weight in confirming or crushing those hopes. To that resolution, Darcy applied every fiber of his being as he entered the morning room. There he found Mr. Bingley trying desperately to persuade Miss Bennet she was not well enough to return to Longbourn so soon. Caroline Bingley made the obligatory civilities encouraged by her brother without much enthusiasm, fully realizing while Jane Bennet remained at Netherfield so would her sister Elizabeth. Darcy watched the scene between Bingley and Jane Bennet with a detached air, hiding his intense interest. He hoped Elizabeth would leave before long, and he could return to a more sensible existence. “Then it is settled; you may not consider leaving before tomorrow,” Bingley half pleaded.
Miss Bennet nodded her agreement before abandoning the seat by the fire and returning to her room.Finally,he thought; an end to his upheaval was in sight. A little more than a day would put distance between him and his preoccupation with Elizabeth Bennet. He would steady himself, avoid contact with Elizabeth, and not engage in any unnecessary conversation. If he could confine himself to places of solitude, the hours would pass quicker. The woman frustrated Darcy beyond words. He never met a woman who so befuddled his mind. How many times over the past few weeks had he thought about Elizabeth Bennet? Almost from the moment he rejected the opportunity to escort her onto the assembly hall dance floor, her “fine eyes” mesmerized him; yet, heknew the inferiority of her connections would never be accepted by his family or his social circle. Darcy would become a mockery, a figure of ridicule if he chose Elizabeth Bennet. He could not let that happen to Georgiana, to his family name, or to the expectations for Pemberley. Fitzwilliam Darcy knew his duty to the Darcy name; his fascination with Elizabeth Bennet had to end today!
He found it relatively easy to escape close association with Elizabeth by taking a long, physically demanding ride on Cerberus. By the time he returned and properly presented himself to the rest of the party, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst applied to him to join them for some shooting. As much as Darcy dearly loved the sport, his ride depleted his energy so he kindly begged off. The ladies took the carriage into Meryton to make some social calls. Elizabeth attended her sister, which meant Darcy could eschew all the trappings society would demand if everyone was together. He found a book in the Netherfield library in which he could, at least, pretend some interest if someone found him there. Settling back into the chair, he nearly fell asleep; his mind, despite his determination to evade thoughts of Elizabeth, clearly pictured her now in this pre-dream state. Her smile was there, and it was a smile directed toward him, the illusion so real he could not help but to utter her name aloud,“Elizabeth.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” The word echoed through his whole body. With eyes fluttering and a mind grappling with the reality of what just happened, Darcy sprang to his feet, a rush of embarrassment at being found dreaming of the woman who now stood before him and who looked very quizzical about what transpired.
“I apologize, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy stammered, allowing his breeding to take over the situation. “May I help you find something in the library?”
“You are most kind, Mr. Darcy,” she responded, still obviously amused by his response.“I thought you asleep; I wanted desperately not to disturb you; I tried reaching that book of poetry on the upper shelf. I fear my clumsiness brought you from your deliberation, and I foolishly interrupted your privacy. It is I who shouldapologize to you, Sir.”
“Not at all, Madam,” he quipped, making a quick bow. He stepped over to the shelf by which she stood. Reaching up to retrieve the book she desired, Darcy placed it into Elizabeth’s hands. When she looked up to thank him, the thickness of her lashes consumed his senses, and Darcy found himself swimming in the scent of lavender. Elizabeth smiled briefly at him as she took a seat across from his chair. He considered excusing himself, but he feared in doing so her curiosity over his response would be compounded. Instead, he hoped by returning to his chair and his book, Elizabeth would think his blunder simply a lack of propriety at calling her by her first name rather than a realization he dreamed of her.
Pretending to read the historical account of William the Conqueror, Darcy peered over his book and watched Elizabeth as she devoured the words. She tapped her foot lightly as she read, evidently mimicking the rhythmic pattern of the lines. Darcy watched her so intensely he came close to closing his book in order to give her his full attention. Elizabeth bit her lower lip as she read, flitting glimpses of humor and sadness empathetically playing across her face. So they sat for half an hour; Elizabeth engrossed in the beauty of the lines; Darcy engrossed in the beauty of the woman. Noting the time, Elizabeth sighed deeply as she closed her volume.“Thank you, again, Mr. Darcy,” she curtsied and left before he could acknowledge her remark or to stand upon her exit.
Darcy let out the breath he did not realize he held back for so long. His heart lodged in his throat.How could I have been so foolish?The thoughts fought for dominance.I must not say anything else to her today; Elizabeth Bennet must be out of my life forthwith.
At dinner Darcy devoted himself to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst’s trivial administrations. He barely looked at Elizabeth when she joined them. Steadying his voice as he spoke, Darcy kept ticking off the clock in his mind, praying Elizabeth would leave before it was too late for him to return to his familial allegiance.
Sunday brought the day of his redemption; in a few hours he would be free of Elizabeth Bennet. As much as Darcy rejoiced at his being able to return to himself, his friend felt despondent about the loss of Miss Bennet’s company, and Darcy found he too would experience the deprivation of Elizabeth’s presence if only he would allow the luxury of admitting as much. Reliving the last few days as he dressed for church services, Darcy acknowledged Elizabeth’s power over him escalated to the point of distraction, and he felt obliged to struggle against his feelings. He could not—would not—entertain a design on Elizabeth Bennet. His prayer on this particular Sunday was to rid himself of the good opinion he formed of her. Putting distance between himself and Elizabeth Bennet could ease his distress; therefore, he resolved during the night to pretend business in town and to leave Netherfield.
Waiting on the ladies in the main foyer, Darcy paced with a renewed strength of resolve. Bingley, on the other hand, anticipated the pleasure of escorting Miss Jane Bennet to the morning’s services. As Darcy contemplated how he could tell Bingley, without offending his friend, he chose to leave Netherfield, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the gentlemen. Jane Bennet, still a bit pale, was dressed in royal-blue muslin, amplifying her blue eyes. Darcy thought he heard Bingley let out a low moan, but he could not be sure it was not his own response he heeded; for a few paces behind her elder sister, taking a supportive role, stood Elizabeth.The image hypnotized Darcy. Elizabeth was perfectly beautiful and perfectly insensible to the fact. Only moments before, he silently professed his desire to be away from the brilliancy of her eyes, and now he could not force his regard from Elizabeth’s countenance. Clothed in a simple dress of muted rose trimmed with red stitching which complemented the auburn highlights of her hair, Elizabeth had no idea what inducements she created in a man of such esteem.
Mr. Bingley sprang up the staircase to attend to Jane Bennet’s needs, taking up a position by her side and allowing himself the pleasure of bracing her unsteady motion. Pausing to give her sisterdistance and some moments of growing affection, Elizabeth nearly giggled with delight seeing Jane so singled out by Bingley’s actions. Shortly, Elizabeth began her descent, and Darcy discovered himself compelled to meet her and offer her his arm. A bit embarrassed by his behavior, his gentility took control of his actions as he offered the incomparable Elizabeth Bennet his hand. She did not expect his chivalry, but propriety allowed her to permit him to do the proper thing.
Bingley, irritated with his sisters for being fashionably late once again, said, “Darcy, why do we not take the Miss Bennets in my carriage? My brother Hurst may bring my sisters in his.” Darcy knew the folly of such an action.Two single gentlemen in possession of good fortunes escorting two single ladies to local church services could be viewed easily by society and by the ladies themselves as a declaration of the gentlemen’s intentions. He wanted to say as much to his friend, but the slight pressure of Elizabeth’s hand upon his wiped the idea away. He resolved to leave Netherfield in the next few days, and that would hinder any hopes Elizabeth may be contemplating. Darcy would allow himself the pleasure of her company one last time.
In the carriage, they found companionable silence. Both ladies kept their eyes down as Elizabeth fussed over Jane’s comfort. Bingley and Darcy stared out the coach’s windows, but Darcy’s mind was anywhere but on the scenery; Elizabeth’s lavender—her lush eyelashes—the flush of color on her cheeks—the shift of her shoulders—all these things consumed Darcy’s being.
