A Fine Line: A Pride & Prejudice Variation Page 4
“But what of arranged relationships,” she ventured, “where the feelings of the couple are not considered? Only finances, family connections, and estates. Could not also those marriages be unhappy?”
“Of course,” he said. “They could also be unhappy, but at your own admission, they would have the finer things in life. Would not that make one happy regardless of who they had to share it with?”
“Not necessarily.” Her mother and father popped into her head. Whatever admiration had been between them had since gone. They annoyed one another for the fun of it. How was that a life to aspire to? She would not have it. “We do not agree with one another, Mr. Darcy. You will never be able to convince me that money is everything when I believe affection is everything. How much easier life would be if you spent it with someone that made you happy instead of someone that brought you daily pains. No, I am afraid we may never agree on this.”
Mr. Darcy’s steps kicked up dust on the dirt path they walked on that lay adjacent to the field. In a quiet voice, he said, “No, I suppose we may never agree.” He looked up and at the rolling hills on the other side of the fence. Different flowers dotted the countryside with color. There was a field of purple and of white, and a much larger one of yellow that would soon die off. She wondered if he found it pretty or if Hertfordshire would never grow on him. He sighed, interrupting her thoughts. “Though we can agree to disagree, that does not change my feelings on the matter of your sister with my friend, Miss Elizabeth. I will venture to think of that as I already have.”
Elizabeth stopped. He kept walking ahead of her as she shot looks of fury into the back of his head. A few strides later, he turned to look at her. The expression on his face confused her, but his words did not. He meant to still separate her poor sister from her beloved. “Then I am afraid you have found an enemy in me. I will not let that happen.”
Mr. Darcy bowed and continued to walk. Though, at length, she caught up with him, she did not attempt a conversation with him again. Now that they knew where the other stood, there was no point. To convert the other to their way of thinking was useless. They had already agreed on that. She would have to pay extra attention to what Mr. Darcy did during his stay at Longbourn. She alone would make sure Jane married Mr. Bingley.
She watched her sister laugh in front of her and sent her a silent promise that she would have everything she wanted, and that included Mr. Bingley.
Chapter Six
Tired and uncomfortable in his surroundings, Darcy did not believe he had ever been so ill-tempered before. After the walk earlier that morning, which did not go as he planned, he had taken to being by himself, whether upstairs in his chamber or outside. The hint of Mrs. Bennet’s voice sent his nerves raking through his body. He had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from being anything but the appreciative guest in her home.
Every time he pressed his lips together or walked away from the incessant talking of the mother or the younger daughters, Miss Elizabeth’s face popped into his head. He had not meant to declare war with her earlier in the day. He certainly had not meant to lay all his cards bare, but there was something about her countenance in which he wanted to be completely honest with her, including telling her that he did not approve of her sister for his friend. Of course, she did not take it well. Who would? He could imagine what he would feel if someone said that to him regarding his dear sister, Georgiana. He would be furious. And Elizabeth was as well. Rightfully so.
Why then did her not-so-subtle attempts at ignoring him or escaping his presence vex him? He certainly could see her rationale behind it, but he did not like it. Since that morning, he had barely been in her presence for above five minutes and he felt the loss of it just thinking about it. Though they fought when they spoke, he enjoyed speaking to her. Just because they did not agree did not mean he could not find enjoyment in someone else’s thoughts and feelings.
She would barely even look at him, which took from him his delight in seeing the passion in her eyes, the ferocity with which she felt things, even if it was to dislike him.
To make matters worse, they were all expected to go into Meryton, the small village nearby, this evening to attend a party at their Aunt and Uncle Phillips’s house. He could bear it if she would delight him with another conversation, but to think that she would again take to her ignoring him in front of other people, surely, he would not find anyone who would be her equal there, especially since Bingley would not leave Miss Bennet’s side.
When the time drew nearer to their leaving, he thought about faking an illness so he did not have to go, but he was also ready to admit that was beneath him. When Bingley asked him if he was ready, he buttoned his cuff, grabbed his hat, and was out the door to meet him without pause. They walked down the steps together. As Bingley continued toward Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy lingered on the bottom step. Miss Elizabeth was off to the side speaking with her father. The smile that graced her face brought a similar one to his. She was simply one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.
She wore an excellent gown that accentuated her features. The neckline dipped lower than her usual gowns displaying a fair bit of soft skin. Couple that with the fine comb she used to put her hair up in, he could not take his eyes from her. How lucky he was to observe her in a natural state without the suffering looks she gave him. Would that he be able to place that smile on her face. Would that he be able to light her eyes with joy instead of hatred.
He swallowed the incorrigible thoughts and finally stepped from the staircase. His traitorous mind would have to be dealt with later, but for now, he would participate in this evening only for the chance to get it over with as soon as was humanly possible.
He bowed toward Miss Bennet. “How do you do this evening?”
She curtsied and her simply elegant manners he had first noticed in her shone through despite her surroundings. It was undeniable that Miss Bennet was a handsome woman, but looks did not equate to much in marriage. One could not live off of looks. Not that he knew much about marriage, either, but it would make sense to him that one would become bored with staring at the same person all the time. Looks would fade once the novelty wore off. At least, that made sense to him.
She took Bingley’s hand as he led her outside to the waiting carriage. Just before he helped her in, she glanced toward her family’s carriage. A frown crossed her face and Darcy looked that way to see what had troubled her. Miss Elizabeth looked away as that detestable Mr. Collins approached her. “Mr. Bingley,” Miss Bennet’s small voice wafted through the air. “I wonder if we should ask my sister Elizabeth to ride with us. Someone has to so there will be enough room in both carriages.”
“But of course,” Mr. Bingley exclaimed. “I shall—”
Darcy did not even let him finish. He could not stand the way Elizabeth had to smile in Mr. Collins’s presence. Surely, she also felt his lack of manners, whether he was his aunt’s clergyman or not. He strode forward, determined to relieve her from him as soon as was possible. He bowed toward her, noticing the surprise in her face as he did so. “Miss Elizabeth, your sister desires you to take the seat in Mr. Bingley’s carriage.”
He held his hand out as Elizabeth excused herself from Mr. Collins. He gave the man no such courtesy, never even looking his way. His eyes were fixed on Miss Elizabeth’s and though she accepted his hand, she still did not look pleased about it. He had the sense that his hand was just the lesser of two evils in her mind. No matter the case, he felt a sense of relief as he led her away from Mr. Collins. He could not believe her mother had even hinted at the chance of their upcoming nuptials. What a farce.
He moved closer to her. A sense of pride shot through him at having such a beautiful specimen by his side. Though he knew he should not feel encouraged due to the people surrounding him, his body acted on natural instincts. Miss Elizabeth was beautiful and no matter the surroundings, he felt the pleasure of having her next to him. “Please, Miss Bennet,” he started. “I beg that whatever you think of me,
please never give me a fake smile as I have seen you just grace that fool with.”
Her hand tightened at his words. What was going through her head? She looked away from him and her jaw flexed while she thought. He did not know why he spoke that to her. It had come into his head so fast and spoken in much the same way that he hardly knew what he meant when he said it. He did now. He could not take her to be disingenuous with him. If she hated him, let her act as such. If she liked him, likewise, he would want her to act as such.
“I must wonder why you would care, Mr. Darcy, but I assure you I will always make my feelings plain when it comes to you and I. I hope that will suffice.”
He only nodded as he approached Mr. Bingley’s carriage and helped her inside. He followed her up afterward and endured the short drive into Meryton sitting next to her on the seat while also feeling as if many miles, large trees, and a roaring river separated them. Why he could not suffer through her indifference to him, he did not know. It was not as if he sought her approval.
By the time the carriage rolled to a stop, he was glad for the fresh air the opening of the carriage brought to his mind and lungs. He was suffocating on his own twisted thoughts. He stood off to the side as the rest of the party joined around him. Mrs. Bennet hurried up to her husband who left to ascend the steps to the Phillips’s home without her. Mr. Darcy’s gaze narrowed at the sight. How peculiar. When she finally did reach him, he did not at once offer his hand. She had to nudge him and when he finally did raise his arm, he did it without feeling as if he had done it so many times before, the reason for it had become lost on him. Not that he could blame Mr. Bennet. He also found Mrs. Bennet vexing, but he was the one who married her. Surely, he knew what kind of woman he was attaching himself to.
Despite himself, he looked to his left to find Miss Elizabeth smiling at her sister and then looking up at the house. A candle was lit in each of the windows in the home. It was attached on either side by mirroring homes. When Mr. Collins stepped out of the other carriage and made his way toward Miss Elizabeth, he again interfered. Guessing his path, he himself strode up to Miss Elizabeth and held his hand out to her.
Her eyebrows pulled in as she took in his offering. With a peek past his shoulder, her face switched to determination as she laid her hand atop his. Though he knew he would never get thanks for it, he knew he was doing her a service by separating them.
At the top of the stairs, he gave his coat and hat to a servant and followed his party into the small living area. Though confined, it was appropriately furnished, and he only found it lacking in the grandeur that he was used to from his own home, though he knew that hardly any home in the country compared to his. Miss Bennet introduced Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. At first observation, they were well-mannered, which he enjoyed observing upon first meeting others.
He was invited to play cards, which he graciously refused. Instead, he wandered the room to get a feel for his surroundings. Overall, he found it much like Longbourn. The new scenery just gave another place for the younger Miss Bennet’s to explore their lively, unwanted chatter and the eldest Miss Bennet’s to again behave in much the way he had become to admire them both for their sweet, gracious nature. How could the two eldest have grown up so well, yet the youngest be utterly different? The middle daughter, Mary, was not half so bad, but that was only because she barely spoke at all. He did admit that when she did, it did not have half the sense of her two eldest sisters, but at least she did not speak as much as the youngest two.
He shook his head as he observed it all. As he had feared, there was none other in the room that he wished to converse with more than Miss Elizabeth and his friend. His friend was busy with Miss Bennet, which left only Miss Elizabeth who still ignored him as best she could. He supposed he could interrupt her, make himself known in her presence, but he did not have the heart to do as much when it was clear she did not wish for it.
After a small meal, the party again broke up into cards and pockets of groups talking until the younger Miss Bennet’s declared their wish for a dance. Some of the men helped move furniture out of the way. Besides the two youngest moving to the makeshift dance floor, Bingley and Miss Bennet also moved that way. His eyes searched out Elizabeth only to see that Mr. Collins was already bowing toward her. It was not as if he would have asked her to dance knowing that she would not want to, but to see her stand up with him, made his insides clench.
She was all beauty and grace, softening his initial reaction, but every time his gaze wandered toward her partner, his face blazed with heat. He was a poor dancer and Darcy witnessed several missteps. It was evident Mr. Collins was not out in the kind of society that would warrant escorting a fine woman onto the dance floor. His face flushed for Miss Elizabeth when Mr. Collins accidentally stepped on her foot. Though she cringed, she also did not suffer through his rambling apology, only telling him that she was fine and requested that he move on with the dance.
For himself, he could not even find any enjoyment in Mr. Collins’s lack of propriety. Not when it affected Miss Elizabeth. He had half a mind to request her hand in the next dance, just to prove to the others there that she was a sight to be seen while dancing. Not that they needed any evidence of such a thing. Miss Elizabeth, however, should be paraded down the dance with civility and grace, instead of by a simpering fool with a timid smile.
He had just come to the conclusion that he would ask her to dance to help her gain her favorableness back when she stayed up there for the second reel with the same gentleman. He must have asked her for the first two dances and she agreed. His hands shook with vehemence. Was it not clear to that man that his choice in partner was so far above him?
He could not even stand to watch the second dance. He retreated to the other side of the room where he exited the house and stepped out once more into the fresh air. The piano music could be heard outside on the street. At least out here he did not have to witness Mr. Collins fumbling with poor Elizabeth Bennet at his side. She was sensible enough to feel all the wanted manners in Mr. Collins. He would be ashamed if he was her and there was no doubt in his mind that she felt the same. What then could she mean by accepting his first two dances? He refused to believe that she cared for the gentleman, and indeed, her very look forbade such a thought to even enter into his mind. What then was she at by accepting his proposal for two dances? What a ridiculous scheme.
He walked down the street some ways to clear his mind. The night was growing darker and cooler with the sun receding below the horizon in a blush of orange. The street was in shadows and although Meryton did not hold the threat that London did, he still did not think he should be walking alone outside in the dark. He turned around and once again headed back toward the house with the candles in the windows. He was happy to have them as a guiding light. Since all the houses looked the same on this street, without them, he could not be certain he would find his way back to the right place.
A door slammed and Mr. Darcy looked up from the uneven path to find a figure exiting the Phillips’s house and staring up at the star-dotted sky. A groan escaped the figure as they descended the steps, their hands clenched tightly at their sides. “Why?” an exasperated voice said.
He recognized it at once to be Miss Elizabeth’s voice. As he got closer, her figure also became recognizable. She wiped at her face with more determination than necessary. He was almost to her now and knew it was only right to make Miss Elizabeth aware that she was not alone. He was not sure what he was observing, but it was evident that Miss Bennet thought that she was the only one outside.
He cleared his throat. She whirled around, her dress swinging over her ankles. A candle in the nearby light at the foot of the steps illuminated her face. She squinted her eyes his way. When recognition flickered in her eyes, the drooping of her face followed soon after. The air leaked from his lungs as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
He bowed and smiled at her as best he could. “Miss Bennet.”
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nbsp; “Mr. Darcy,” she said, her eyebrow raising as she crossed her arms in front of her. “I did not know you were out here.”
After recognizing a sparkle on her cheek to be the light hitting a tear, he gazed up at the sky. The need to brush it away with his thumb bore down on him, but he squelched it. He did not have the right to do such a thing, and he did not even know if he wanted it. What was he thinking? Of course, he did not want it. If Miss Bennet was not worthy of his friend Bingley, certainly her younger sister was not good enough for him.
He trained his eyes on a single star before answering. “I came out here to enjoy the fresh air. I assume you have done as much as well.”
“Indeed,” she said, her voice resigning to having to speak with him. How he loathed that sound in her usually determined speech.
He gazed down at his feet after glancing at her again. The tear was gone and her look was schooled into neutrality. “If you wish to be alone, I will return inside.”
“It is not necessary, Mr. Darcy. I shall go.”
She turned to leave, but he could not let that happen. He moved forward and grabbed her hand. “Why did you do it?”
She looked from his hand clutching her arm into his eyes. “Excuse me?”
He shook his head and released his hold. Of course, she would not understand his question after he posed it to her like a madman. “What I mean to say is that it is evident you do not care for Mr. Collins, yet you dance with him. Why? I am aware it is none of my business. I merely am curious as to what you would mean by it.”
Her throat worked as she stared at him. Questions were in her eyes, but her jaw softened after a few moments. “Though it is none of your business, I suppose there is no use in denying you an answer. We have spoken freely to one another before.” She brought her hands in front of her and laced her fingers together before moving on. “My mother, as I know you have already been witness to, would like me to marry Mr. Collins. He has made me an offer, which I have already refused. Due to his want for sense, Mr. Collins proposes that my denial of his hand is due to me wishing to heighten his affections for me, which I can assure you is not my intention. However, since he has not accepted my outright refusal, he has only spurred my mother into making her wishes known at every chance she can. She wished me to dance with him, so I did. Unfortunately, I do not have the liberty you have, Mr. Darcy.”