A Fine Line: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Page 2

  Her gaze started to slide downward, taking with it all the embarrassment he’d intended to give her, but at the last moment, she straightened her shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “It is Elizabeth. Now, if you are well, I should like to return downstairs.”

  From the looks of her, she was doing everything she could not to apologize for her indiscretion regarding his mother and father. He liked her the better for it. Had she simpered and looked at the floor like a shy kitten, he would have dismissed her at once. That did not mean she should not feel the error of her words. “I am afraid I am in need of your presence, Miss Bennet. You will have to delay your return downstairs.”

  Her eyes narrowed before widening to their normal roundness again. It was like a game of chess between them. One he was enjoying very much.

  Miss Bennet looked around the room as if she were searching for anything that he could need her help with. As it was, he had not made up his mind why he wished her to stay. He would have to come up with that, but for now, to amuse him was enough. Perhaps he could ask her questions regarding her family in order to get a better sense of them. Though she would describe her family in a friendlier light, he was sure he could search for the thorns among the rose bushes to find out their true nature.

  “What is it that you could need my help with, Mr. Darcy? I should like to return to my sister. As you know, she has been from us for a long time and I missed her company.”

  “She has been far too merry to miss you.”

  Elizabeth’s head snapped back as if he had physically struck her. Darcy barely registered the reaction, his thoughts still on the visions she had conjured from his mind.

  Miss Bennet and Bingley had scarce spent any time apart within the last few weeks. At first, he had thought Bingley was taking part in a little harmless flirtation. He had not realized it had escalated to this point until Bingley confided in him he wished to marry Miss Bennet. How he could have missed all the signs, he did not know. It was too soon, to be sure. He thought his friend was smarter than that, but if he would have been paying closer attention, he would have noticed the dangerous steps his friend had taken with the London visitor. This was all his own fault.

  “My sister and Mr. Bingley do look very happy together. I am happy for her.”

  Darcy could not help the sneer that crossed his face. Happy? Of course, she was. The attachment would only elevate their family while Bingley would feel the weight of their hindrance on him. He could practically see the line of rich suitors Mrs. Bennet was imagining who would line up for her remaining daughters. How sly to send her to London by herself where the whole family could not be judged at once.

  “You do not agree?” Miss Elizabeth asked.

  He appraised the young woman standing in front of him. She was barely above twenty years old. Her disdain for him was apparent on her face for which he could not blame her. From what he saw of her, he could ascertain that she alone may have a solvent mind. It would be unwise to let her catch on to what he was here to do. Not that she could thwart him, but she would prove an annoyance. Of that, he was certain.

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I am very happy for my friend and your sister. My hesitation, which you have so aptly caught, is merely in relation to the quickness of their affections taking hold of them. That is all. They are indeed very happy. One cannot wonder why when they know so little about one another.”

  He almost smirked at his reply until she answered him. “When there is true affection, I cannot believe that it is right for it to be called quick nor slow. True is true. Their feelings should not be subjected to such a poor description, especially when one can so clearly see their affection expressed so in every look.”

  He seceded the point to her. He bowed, unwilling to try to convince her otherwise. What was the use?

  “Was that all you wished me to stay for? To reconcile the severity of your friend and my sister’s feelings for one another?”

  She peered longingly down the hall. Darcy would not give her up yet, however. “Nay, of course not. I should have supposed you would not see it my way, Miss Bennet. We are so unlike one another.”

  She turned toward him. Her slow gaze moved up from his shoes all the way to North of his eyes. “Clearly.”

  “You have been offended by something I said?”

  “No,” she said, quick to answer him. “Do you have any siblings, Sir?”

  Georgiana popped into his head. She was much younger than him. Though they were at two very different stages of their lives, he loved her very much. She was but sixteen, just coming into her own. “I do,” he said, finally smiling a smile that was neither faked nor teasing, but as genuine as Mr. Darcy could ever be. His sister meant the world to him.

  “Hmm,” she said, making a confused sound in the back of her throat. “I should have thought I would not need to explain to you the bond between siblings then, especially sisters. Jane is one of the most precious people I know. My only wish is for her to be happy and since she has found her happiness in your friend, I am afraid I am ill-suited to match your disparaging remarks against their relationship. Their feelings are just as fine to me if they had come slowly or too quick as you have surmised.”

  He bowed to her. “By all means then, I wish you to return to your sister so that you may bask in her happiness.”

  Miss Elizabeth gave him a slight curtsey and then turned to leave once more.

  “Miss Bennet?” he asked.

  This time, an audible sigh escaped her lips before turning toward him again.

  A smile teased at the corners of his lips. “I do hope you have not gotten the wrong impression of me.”

  She matched his smile. “I assure you, I have not.”

  He let her go this time. Her footsteps could be heard descending the main stairs. With such a worthy adversary, he may enjoy this much more than he thought. Who knew the country could bore such a woman as Miss Elizabeth Bennet? He had not thought it possible, but the truth had been right there in front of him.

  He closed his door and turned, taking in his chamber once more. Remembering his trunk sitting in the corner, he began to unpack its contents and settle in until he was called for dinner. Who knew what that could bring? Perhaps another verbal sparring match between himself and Miss Elizabeth. He could get used to that.

  Chapter Three

  The earlier conversation with Mr. Darcy still stewed in Elizabeth’s head—and churned her stomach. It was evident he did not approve of his friend marrying her sister. At least Elizabeth had figured that much out. What he was willing to do about it was another thing all together. If he intended to ruin her sister’s chance at happiness, she would not stand for it.

  As much as she wanted to focus on Jane and Mr. Bingley, her mind kept returning to the dark stare of his friend upstairs, no doubt frowning at something in his chamber he found wanting. Jane had written that he was a wealthy man of a large estate in Derbyshire. The fact had not mattered to her before. She expected any gentleman to treat a gentleman and his family with respect, no matter the apparent monetary differences. As soon as Mr. Darcy stepped down from the carriage, she knew he was different, however. They would have to fight to earn any of his respect and Elizabeth was not so sure it was worth it.

  What did it matter? Once Jane was married to Mr. Bingley, at least they would not often be in the other’s company. Did not Mr. Darcy have his own life to attend to? Accompanying his friend to meet his chosen one’s family seemed like overstepping his bounds. Surely, he could see that. Though he was boorish, he must have been brought up with at least some generous manners and a sensible mind whether he paid attention to them now or not. What was the use of money if one could not claim even the basics of a polished upbringing?

  “What do you think, Lizzy?”

  “Hmm?”

  Elizabeth turned to find Jane standing in front of her. Behind her sister, Mr. Bingley spoke to their father while Mrs. Bennet and the younger sisters listened carefully.

&nbs
p; Her failure to be present in the conversation hit her harder than ever as Jane had to repeat herself. “Mr. Bingley? What do you think of him?”

  Elizabeth smiled. The light in her sister’s eyes was undeniable as she looked back at Mr. Bingley. Though her mind had been tied up with Mr. Darcy, it was still clear that Mr. Bingley adored her sister and that those feelings were returned.

  Elizabeth had never seen her sister look prettier, which was a difficult feat considering she was the handsomest woman in Hertfordshire. Mrs. Bennet had often said she knew that at least Jane would marry well due to her good looks and fine countenance. If any of the men who had set their sights on her sister before could see her now, the earlier version of her paled in comparison to this one. She was truly a woman in love.

  Elizabeth touched Jane’s arm to gain back her attention. “I like him,” she said. “He seems to like you very much, which means he is sensible and smart. You know how I prefer smart gentlemen.”

  Jane smiled at her sister’s teasing. It slid off her face, however, when she looked behind her shoulder to the scene playing out before her. She nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you think Papa likes him?”

  Elizabeth peered past her sister to Mr. Bennet who spoke adamantly with the younger gentleman. Their father was an honorable man. He would not dissuade Jane from marrying Mr. Bingley, not when it was evident that there was so much love between them. He trusted Jane enough to choose who would suit her. Even if Mr. Bingley had no fortune, Elizabeth would find it hard to believe their father would disapprove of the match. He would have to find something wanting in the gentleman’s character to warrant such a thing and clearly, that was not the case with Mr. Bingley.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Father does like him. When have you known him to strike up a conversation with a stranger, Jane? Do not fret too much. You will have Mr. Bingley over here worrying over you in a heartbeat. There is no need. Everything will be just as it should.”

  Jane returned her fine smile to Elizabeth. Her eyebrows lifted. “You really think so?”

  “But of course.”

  It must be true love because Elizabeth had never known her sister to worry over such things. She had a pure heart and kindness that superseded everything she did that worrying was never in her repertoire. There was simply no need for it.

  “What about Mamma?”

  Elizabeth gave Jane a disparaging look. She would have rolled her eyes if she thought her sister would notice, but she had already turned her stare back to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Bennet would have approved of any man if they had something to offer her girls. Case in point, she approved of Mr. Collins for her, which was beyond the realm of believability.

  The thought of Mr. Collins made Elizabeth long to be alone with Jane. She wanted to pour her heart out to her, tell her how despite refusing Mr. Collins, their mother insisted on her marrying him. She needed Jane’s wise words and care. Most of all, she would rather tell Jane of his proposal before Mrs. Bennet could. Surely, she would not do such a thing in front of strangers. At least, she hoped she would not.

  What look would Mr. Darcy then give? And that one would be warranted.

  The closer dinnertime came, the more Elizabeth feared Mr. Collins imminent arrival and Mr. Darcy’s removal from his chamber upstairs. Surely food would call each of them to torment her. She would have to start stealing herself for their arrival now. She could take each of them separately, but both of them together? It would be a superior test to her mind and spirit.

  A superior test it was. Mr. Collins arrived first in much better spirits than when he left. He had sulked from the house earlier after her refusal. Thankfully, Charlotte had come to call shortly afterward, and she agreed to receive him during the day. As if nothing had happened that morning, he bowed in front of her, his impish grin spreading over his face. It had the opposite effect it should have had. Her skin crawled at the sight. Did her mother really believe she could live with this man? Be his wife? Lay in his bed? It was beyond any rational thought.

  She did her best to smile back at him and then returned to the table on her father’s left-hand side. With more places set at the table, they added an extra piece to make their usual table bigger. They would all fit comfortably well.

  “Lizzy,” her mother called out to her. “Please do get Mr. Darcy. Dinner is almost served.”

  There was no way she was going to do that. Not after his comment to her earlier. She went to Sarah, one of their young maids, and said, “Would you be so kind as to announce to Mr. Darcy that dinner is almost ready?”

  Sarah gave a slight curtsey and hurried up the stairs. She watched her go with thoughts warring with one another. She should not have let anything he said change the way she acted. Feeling both stupid and right to have sent Sarah upstairs, she shook her head. There was nothing she could do about it now. Mr. Darcy would come downstairs, they would eat, he would retreat up the stairs and that would be that. There was no sense worrying over something that could not be changed.

  Mr. Collins, never want for impropriety, bowed to Mr. Bingley. “How do you do, Sir? I hear I am to congratulate you on your choice of bride. What a fine family it is, is it not? I am their cousin—.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes immediately flicked toward her sister. A high blush rose from Jane’s neck all the way to the tips of her ears. She was about to interrupt him herself when Mrs. Bennet walked into the room again. “Ah, Mr. Collins. I see you have met Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley, this is Mr. Collins, our cousin, and more than likely will soon be more.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s gaze settled on Lizzy. Everyone in the room turned to look at her. Everything in her screamed to deny the accusation, but to do so would embarrass her mother and she could do no such thing. Her closed mouth and tightening limbs sent a blow to her stomach. Jane’s eyebrows rose and Elizabeth gave a quick shake to her head.

  A short chuckle drew her attention to the far door. Mr. Darcy stood in the entryway, a smug smile twisting his face as he tried to regain his composure. Still no one spoke after Mrs. Bennet’s ill-timed announcement. Elizabeth, too shocked her mother would bring such a matter up in front of guests when she had downright refused Mr. Collins’s offer earlier, could think of nothing to say. The silence in the room was deafening and with all the pairs of eyes on her, not the least was Mr. Collins, who looked quite pleased with himself, she finally glanced at her father for help.

  The look she gave him screamed help, and he immediately took to the task as only her father could. He cleared his throat, sat down at the head of the table, and said, “Let us not be too hasty, my dear, unless we are talking about bringing the food to the table. Hip, hip, let us get on with it now.”

  He beamed at Elizabeth as if he had done his job very well and though she was glad to finally have others talking and moving amongst her and not staring at her with eyes like hot pokers, she fell into her seat in a huff. She wished she could say it was relief, but alas, it was not. The weight of everything that had happened hunched her shoulders forward. Mr. Darcy’s laugh. Mr. Collins’s expectant look. Jane’s confusion. It all pressed onto her shoulders like heavy weights.

  Mr. Collins strode her way, and she tried to curl into herself, make herself smaller so he may not be able to see her. Surely, if he could not see her, he could not talk to her and if she was that lucky, then he would not sit next to her.

  As luck would have it, another hand pulled the chair out first and Mr. Collins was left with a strangled look in her direction. Elizabeth lifted her stare to find Mr. Darcy beaming down at her. She had no doubt he had understood everything that had just happened, except he was most likely under the assumption that Elizabeth would be marrying that ninny Mr. Collins. She closed her eyes and leaned her elbows on the table. For anyone to think she would stoop to that level would be terrible, but that Mr. Darcy should think she would marry him was disastrous. He may as yet be unaware of Mr. Collins’s dull, driveling nature, but she was sure that by the course of the dinner, Mr. Collins would leave him in no doubt of h
is exceptional ability to pour his feelings out and affront people with little being said.

  Mr. Darcy dropped his napkin into his lap and raised his water glass to his lips. Just before he drank, he whispered, “You are positively glowing, Miss Elizabeth. I had no idea I was to congratulate you. Pray, what does your soon-to-be fiancé do?”

  From Mr. Collins’s plain clothes, oily hair, and in general, horrid appearance, Darcy could have no doubt it was nothing to him. Another black mark against the Bennet family and he had barely spent any time in their presence at all.

  Elizabeth moved to the side for Hill to fill her bowl with the soup. She picked up her spoon and hovered it over the steaming liquid before answering. “Just give him a moment, Mr. Darcy, I am sure he will tell you all about it.”

  Mr. Collins, who resigned himself to sitting across from Elizabeth stuttered over his next words. “Mr. Darcy, did you say? Why, could this really be happening? But yes, I am sure I heard of Lady Catherine speak that name before. Sir, are you not Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park’s nephew?”

  Elizabeth cringed. They had yet to be introduced with all the excitement surrounding dinner. “Pray allow me, Sir,” Elizabeth said, shooting Mr. Collins a dreadful look. “Mr. Darcy, this is our cousin, Mr. Collins. He comes to us from Kent where he is a clergyman for the Rosings Park Estate. Mr. Collins, this is Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire.”

  “It is you,” Mr. Collins exclaimed. “I am most certain now that I have made the connection. The humble Lady Catherine has spoken of you many times. I will be so glad to bring word back of you when I return to Kent.”

  He smiled at Mr. Darcy, his lips pulling too tight over his teeth. His eyebrows piquing in a way that could never be handsome. Elizabeth chanced a peek at Mr. Darcy, who had yet to say anything. She was unsure if Mr. Collins had actually guessed their connection correctly or if he was just talking for the sake of liking the sound of his own voice, which she had often thought of him as doing. She had never met someone who spoke so much about nothing she was sure that was why he spoke at all. His timbre must have been soothing to his own ears while it grated on everyone else who had the luxury of hearing him.