Page 4 of Midnight at Pemberley

Chapter Two

ONE EVENING OVER BRANDY, BINGTEY CASUATTY NOTED, “HOW OFTEN WE have spent time with the Bennets of late! I have danced with Miss Bennet four times at Meryton, accepted her one morning in this very house, and dined in her company four times.” There was no reason for Bingley to remind Darcy how often they had encountered the Bennets. Darcy knew exactly, for he had indulged in observing Miss Elizabeth on each occasion. Purposely, he often sought a means to provoke a response from her, just to enjoy the natural huskiness of her voice. The more he irritated her, the stronger he grew—each retort increasing his vitality—and he took a twisted delight in annoying her.

So, when he trailed the rest of Bingley’s party into Sir William Lucas’s entertainment, Darcy anticipated another gathering during which he could watch her. He relished the knowledge that she did not suspect his interest. Nor did Darcy admit to himself or others his fascination with the woman. At first, to those who would listen, he scarcely permitted her to be pretty. He looked at her without remarked upon admiration at the dance, and when they encountered each other, he looked upon her only to criticize.

But no sooner did Darcy make it clear to himself that Miss Elizabeth had hardly a good feature in her face, than he acknowledged her countenance was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. Other equally mortifying discoveries succeeded this one. Although on several occasions he attempted to convince himself that she possessed more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing. Moreover, despite her manners not being of the fashionable world, their easy playfulness caught his interest. Of this contrast, Elizabeth was perfectly unaware.

Tonight, he stood by the window, watching Elizabeth as she conversed with Miss Lucas and Colonel Forster, the commanding officer of the local militia. Darcy enjoyed watching her animated movements, for she exuded pure delight, and he could not help but smile. She made his heart feel lighter. He had never thought that just looking upon someone could be so satisfying.

Over the last few weeks, Mr. Darcy had appeared in her thoughts more than Elizabeth cared to admit. At first, her interest rested purely in confirming her aunt’s suspicions, but there was something more. Of late, she would often look up to find him studying her, and just as often, his scrutiny made her senses flare with a smoldering heat she could not identify. On this particular evening, Elizabeth had taken note of his constant presence. And, as she was prone to do when she had no other means of meeting criticism, she turned to an impertinent confrontation.

“Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, I expressed myself uncommonly well just now when I asked Colonel Forster to host a ball at Meryton?”

She noted how the gentleman swallowed the smile that threatened to turn up the corners of his mouth. “You expressed yourself with great energy—but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.”

She bristled at his nonchalant attitude. “You are severe on us.”

“I offer you my apologies. As a gentleman, Miss Elizabeth, I would not wish to offend.”

Yet, Elizabeth was not finished with him. She was determined to ruffle the man’s customary self-control. “Mr. Darcy, am I to understand your estate in Derbyshire is an extensive one?”

If she hoped to catch him off guard, Elizabeth succeeded. She noted how he forced his face to appear expressionless, although a plethora of emotions crossed his eyes. He thought she was interested in his fortune. Of that, Elizabeth was certain. “Such is its reputation, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Large enough to employ several hundred, so I hear.” Elizabeth took a small step forward, as if to challenge him, but Mr. Darcy did not move.

He watched her warily. He was a worthy opponent. The man searched her countenance for her purpose. “If one counts the cottagers, several hundred seems reasonable.”

“Do you know everyone who you employ at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy? Do you know the names of your footmen and stable hands, for example?”

“I do not understand, Miss Elizabeth.” She noted how his ire grew by the second, for he gripped his hands hard behind his back. “Is there a point in this conversation?”

“My aunt is from Lambton, Mr. Darcy. Did I happen to mention that fact?”

His forehead furrowed. “I heard as such from Mr. Bingley.”

Elizabeth raised her chin in defiance. “My Aunt Gardiner regularly spoke of Pemberley when I was younger. In fact, one of my aunt’s acquaintances, Vivian Piccadilly, was a washerwoman on your estate. Do you know of Miss Piccadilly, Mr. Darcy?” It was obvious by his expression that she had asked a question the gentleman preferred not to answer.

“I take great pride,” he replied in even tones, “in recalling the names of those who work within my household and who claim allegiance to my estate. Miss Piccadilly was with us for only a few short months. Her father and mother remain as part of our staff, however.” His face was completely impassive.

Ah, thought Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy now knows that I know something of his life, but…

Before she could retort, Charlotte caught Elizabeth’s elbow to drag her from the conversation. “You must sing for us, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth protested good-naturedly, “If my vanity took a musical turn, you would be an invaluable friend.” Realizing Mr. Darcy remained close, she quickly added, “I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.”

Over Elizabeth’s protest, Charlotte insisted, and for a bit of spite, Elizabeth turned to Darcy and said, “There is a fine old saying, with which everybody here is familiar, Sir. ‘Keep your breath for porridge, and I shall keep mine to swell my song.’”

The gentleman offered her a slight bow as he said, “Excellent advice. I will heed your words if the situation arises.” She scowled, attempting to understand how her irreverence amused him. “I look forward to your performance, Miss Elizabeth.”

Miss Elizabeth walked away briskly and took up a position at the pianoforte. Though by no means capital, she offered a pleasing performance. She entertained everyone with a couple of light-hearted ditties. Then the group entreated her to sing once more, begging for a love song.

“But they are so sad!” she protested.

But those in attendance did not relent, and so she permitted her fingers to play lightly across the keys while refreshing the words in her memory. She was so beautiful that she snatched Darcy’s breath away. However, when she took up the melody, he froze. Of all the songs in the world she could have chosen, why did she choose his song?

Lord Thomas was an artist

And keeper of the King’s leer