Jump to new as of January 6, 2002
Jump to new as of January 8, 2002
Chapter 1
A slight rap at the door stirred Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy from their intimate embrace in the carriage.
"Mr. Darcy, madam," he called to the curtain drawn windows. "We've stopped by an apothecary."
Slowly drawing apart, Elizabeth allowed Mr. Darcy to rest himself discretely in the corner of the carriage before covering him up with his coat and opening the door. "Would you please assist me in moving Mr. Darcy out of the carriage?"
The young coachman, completely ignorant of his master's condition gave Elizabeth a bewildered look. "Miss?"
Ignoring him, Elizabeth moved back towards Mr. Darcy and slowly guided him towards the door.
"Master!" exclaimed the young coachman, moving quickly to help Mr. Darcy. Master Darcy seemed fine when he entered the carriage, he mused worriedly. And why was this young lady in the carriage with a half undressed man?! Deciding that it was better to restrain his thoughts, he helped support Mr. Darcy into the apothecary.
The group was inside for less than an hour when the doctor announced that Mr. Darcy was fit to leave. Gregory, the driver had gone and fetched his master new clothing from the trunk that Darcy kept inside his carriage for accidents with soil or stain. Mr. Darcy then dressed with the assistance of his servant and exited the apothecary a bit unsteady on his feet due to the rather large amount of brandy the doctor made him consume in order to relieve the pain.
Once settled in the carriage, he drifted at once to sleep. Elizabeth stood outside the door, contemplating whether or not to let Mr. Darcy continue to accompany her to Longbourne. Although the doctor said that he wound was not serious, the jostle and bumps of a carriage ride would not do it any good and may prolong the recovery period. Gregory knocked her out of her trance. "Miss, may I help you into the carriage?" he asked, offering her his assistance.
Ignoring her doubts, Elizabeth nodded and allowed herself to be helped back into the carriage. Since Darcy was sleeping, she leaned back onto the seat and tried to close her eyes to rest for a while. Sleep came rather hard at first due to the jolts in the road, awakening Elizabeth in several occasions. She had long since folded her wrap and placed it behind Mr. Darcy's shoulder to help support it. While he slept peacefully, she just watched the rose and fall of his chest as he took deep breaths. This must have driven her to sleep also because the announcement that they had arrived in Meryton jolted her awake. Already? she thought. Little did she know, it had been many hours since her last conscious thought.
Rising from her position, curled around the corner opposite diagonal of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth stretched out. Gregory helped her out of the carriage and the two servants assisted in bringing Mr. Darcy to his room that they had rented for him moments ago in a fancy inn called the Merit Hall Suites. Once they were settled, Elizabeth excused herself to return home.
"Where is it that you live miss?" Gregory asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Not far, sir. I shall be content to return on foot. I must request that you focus your attentions to a more urgent recipient such as your master."
Although not without doubts, the concern for his master's health won over and he allowed her to leave.
Enjoying the setting sun and crisp evening air, Elizabeth leisurely walked in the direction of Longbourne, hair blowing lightly behind her, bonnet in hand. She arrived at home in a happy disposition, but also secretive, unwilling to tell anyone until Mr. Darcy had agreed to make the announcement publicly or at least until he had recovered enough to ask her father for her hand.
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Elizabeth entered Longbourne, well after dark, eliciting many gasps of surprise. Before she could presume to ask what had happened, she heard the scream of Mrs. Bennet coming through the hallway. "Elizabeth! Where the heavens have you been?! My salts!!! Hill!!!" she managed to get out before she collapsed into the sofa, fanning herself with a lace handkerchief. It was then that Jane entered the room and upon seeing Elizabeth, embraced her sister tearfully and guided her to the privacy of her room.
"Lizzy, seriously, mother was not completely unjustified in her admonishments. Where have you been?" she asked, her clear blue eyes shining from the build-up of tears. "The DeBourgh carriage arrived this morning carrying your trunks telling all of us that you had ridden the post carriage!"
Elizabeth tried to calm her sister. "There were certain things that detained me, however, I will not bother you with them until I have had a chance to speak with father." She wanted to tell Jane everything, but could not word it correctly so that her sister would not think of her doing anything improper. "We will talk this evening or tomorrow."
Jane nodded and the sisters walked down the stairway. Elizabeth redirected her route towards the library while Jane went into the sitting room to try and console her mother.
A knock on the door brought Mr. Bennet from his book, which had been disregarded long ago upon hearing of his daughter's arrival. "Come in Lizzy."
Elizabeth entered the library with a smile. "How did you know it was me, father?"
Mr. Bennet smiled. "You are the only one that turns the doorknob while you knock. No one else in this household is known to hold such an invitation inside this room"
Elizabeth smiled. "I should be grateful."
Sitting up, Mr. Bennet regarded his daughter. There was something about her that he didn't recognize, something new, but not at all bad. "Where have you been my girl? The house was frantic this morning and even more so this afternoon when the post carriage arrived in Meryton without you on it. Had you not returned when you did, I daresay I would have gone out to look for you myself."
"I am sorry father, for causing you any grief about my whereabouts. Unexpected circumstances prevented me from riding the post," she explained in a quiet voice, hoping her father would not pry as to the circumstances, but doubting that he would ignore them.
"Unexpected circumstances...pray tell me, what were these circumstances and more importantly, how did you arrive home at all?"
Elizabeth shifted feet uncomfortably, not wanting to have to explain to her father the circumstances behind the carriage ride and definitely did not want to reveal the identity of the owner of the carriage. Just as she was about to answer, an unexpected knock at the door blessedly interrupted their conversation.
"Come in."
Jane entered with a letter in her hand. "This just arrived from London, from Aunt and Uncle Gardiner."
Mr. Bennet accepted the letter from his in-laws, a little upset that his conversation with Lizzy had been interrupted. Although he trusted his second child over all of his other children in independence and ability, a father could not help but to worry as to where those certain traits could lead a young woman.
Throwing such thoughts aside, Mr. Bennet opened the letter.
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Dearest Brother,
I hope this letter finds you and your family well. Unfortunately, I am unable to answer in affirmative if that question were to be redirected towards my husband and I.
My dear Edward has recently been taken ill with fever and although the doctors assure us that it is not serious, it is contagious to those who have not been affected. I would humbly like to request of you to send us one of your daughters to us in London to escort our four young children to Longbourne to stay for a period of one month.
I would not trouble you or your family unless necessary, brother, but I feel as if this is one of those times. Please respond quickly.
Your loving sister, Abigail Gardner
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After relating the news to his daughters, Mr. Bennet decided that Jane would be the one to leave, since Elizabeth had only arrived home. Taking this opportunity to escape her father's questions, Elizabeth accompanied her sister to Jane's room in order to ready her for her trip.
"I do hope Uncle Gardner is not too ill," fretted Jane while folding a heavier dress.
Elizabeth shrugged, eyeing her sister. "I don't think so, the doctor said it was not serious. Why are you bringing another dress?"
Jane replied, "It may rain and I would not want to be caught in wet material. It is quite unbecoming on a person, especially a lady."
Elizabeth cringed at her own wet experience, however blurred her memories may have been at the time. This did reminded her, however, to write to Charlotte, who had told Elizabeth to assure her of her safe arrival. As Jane finished packing her small bag and began to tidy her room, Elizabeth retreated through the adjoining door to her own room.
Taking a seat at her desk, she began to write to her friend.
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Dearest Charlotte,
I hope this letter finds you well, for I have arrived safely to Longbourne.
All is well here, however, my Uncle Gardiner is ill and Jane is journeying to their home to escort my young cousins to Longbourne to ensure their health. Do not worry, my uncle is doing fine, however, they wish to take every precautionary measure in order to ensure the existing good health of their children.
Charlotte, I hope you may consider returning to Hertfordshire for a bit so that I may tell you important news that concerns me. In fear of this letter being intercepted by other parties, I cannot explain, although I assure you that this news brings me great joy.
I hope to be able to converse with you soon and please give Mr. Collins my regards.
Yours truly, Elizabeth Bennet
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The next morning, the Bennet's carriage was brought around to whisk Jane away from the country as Elizabeth set out on foot to pay a small and discrete visit to a certain gentleman.
Chapter 2
It was less than two years ago when her oldest daughter Amelia, a slightly pretty girl of twenty (then only eighteen), had shyly whispered an admiration for a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Having been a one-time admirer of the late George Darcy, Lady Scott had at once set about introducing the pair in hopes of an acquaintance.
It took no more than two short months, however, that the Scott family rescinded their advances. Mr. Darcy was just not ready for a relationship. He was not social, nor outgoing and Lady Scott, having had a unsuccessful marriage herself, which ended with the death of her husband only the year before, did not want to subject either of her daughters to such a life. Miss Amelia quietly agreed with her mother and married the Viscount Burlington only a month ago. Her remaining daughter, Rose, was still young at the tender age of seventeen. Waiting a few years for the right type of suitor could not hurt.
It was during a shopping excursion in town that Lady Scott had first heard news about Mr. Darcy. Walking down a street to a perfumery that she frequented, Lady Scott overheard some of the servants from Rosings discuss the visit made by their mistress' nephew.
"T'was the young lady that ensnared him, I daresay!" one man exclaimed.
Lady Scott's ears perked at this and she stopped walking to listen further. These servants were no doubt in town to pick up parcels for Lady Catherine or Anne. Seeing an apothecary within ten meters, it was most likely the latter. Who could this young lady be?
"Berty 'ol chap, I heard from the maids that the lady is from the country, with no connections or whatnot. Why would Darcy fall for someone like that?" another said.
Although Darcy was out of reach for her remaining daughter, Lady Scott could not help but have interest in the affairs of England's premier bachelor. Could it be? Could it be that a simple country girl had managed what her daughter couldn't? Her curiosity got the better of her and she continued to listen.
"He visited her most every day! Even on an evening after dinnertime. I was the one who handed him his horse!"
Another man chuckled. "Did anyone manage catch this vixen's name?"
A round of silence ensued, broken by the stableman's voice. "He never said anything directly, but I believe I heard Mr. Collins say that it was one of his cousins by the name of...hmm...Bennet I belive, yes, Bennet. Apparently, the man has five rather good-looking ladies for cousins."
"Good-looking and related to Collins?! Naw...ya gotta be jestin' me."
Lady Scott, stifled a laugh. This was spoken of true honesty.
The voice continued. "Which one was it?"
"How the devil am I to know? Most likely the eldest. She was a looker though. Beautiful eyes."
Lady Scott heard the men begin to walk towards her and quickly sidestepped their path. Perfume forgotten, she returned to her carriage, almost bursting with excitement about what she had just heard! Mr. Darcy, one of the most eligible bachelors of London, in love with the eldest girl of a country family named Bennet!
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Her lips were so soft...her skins so smooth...
"Mmmmm..." Fitzwilliam Darcy moaned pleasurably deep in sleep. Gregory, who had taken his turn sitting in a chair by his master, jumped out of his dream at the sound. "Master Darcy, are you awake?"
No! Darcy's mind screamed. This was the best and most realistic dream yet, do not attempt to wake me. Trying to avoid consciousness, Fitzwilliam rolled away from Gregory's voice and onto his left shoulder, eliciting a large stab of pain that the alcohol of the night before had disguised. "Augghh..."
Moving quickly to assist his master, Gregory helped prop Darcy into a sitting position. "Are you well master?"
"Wha-?" The circumstances of his accident were falling quickly into place. He had gone into town to pick up some documents for Pemberley and a new gown for Georgiana, but instead of returning, he had saved Elizabeth from a mugging. Now he was in Hertfordshire in an inn. What am I forgetting?! Something was nagging him deep down in his mind, or was it his heart? Of course! It came back to him. Before being immersed in alcohol at the apothecary, he had proposed to Elizabeth and she, instead of saying yes, kissed him. "Yes, Gregory, I must say that I am well indeed."
The man smiled. "That is good master, for there is a young lady to see you outside. Should I show her in?"
Fitzwilliam's head shot up, a little too quickly and not at all painless, "Young lady?"
Gregory nodded. "I believe it is the same one who accompanied you here and then walked home on foot. Fascinating young lady, I must say, quite a catch," he said before giving his master a nod.
Fitzwilliam could only glare at the young servant and nod for Elizabeth to be admitted. She arrived in his room shortly afterwards, dressed in a deep red dress that brought out the flush in her cheeks, no doubt from walking into town again. "Mr. Darcy, are you well?" she asked with concern, while walking to seat herself in the chair next to his bed."
He smiled at her and clasped her hand to bring to his lips. "No, my love, I am not."
Elizabeth's smile quickly faded. "Would you like me to go fetch a doctor?"
He chuckled at her concern. "It is not my injury that ails me, my love, it is you."
Aside from the blush caused by his use of the endearment, Elizabeth had a completely confused look on her face. "How so?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, my dear," he began, shifting slightly to be able to face her more. "There is something that has been on my mind since I proposed."
"What may I ask, would that be," asked Elizabeth, her teasing mood returning to her.
"As much as I like my surname, I would much rather you call me by my Christian name," he said. Elizabeth smiled.
"Sir," she said teasingly, "I cannot comply for I do not know you Christian name, unless it is Mister."
"No, my love, it is Fitzwilliam," he answered, enjoying their banter.
"Fitzwilliam," she said to herself, enjoying the intimacy enclosed in that one word. "My, that is a mouthful."
Darcy shrugged, then regretted it, biting his teeth as the pain in his shoulder shot through his arm. "My sister Georgiana calls me William and my cousin Frederick, Colonel Fitzwilliam's elder brother, calls me Fitz, and yes, I do recall at one point a lady whom I deeply admire calling me arrogant and concieted."
Elizabeth blushed at his teasing while contemplating the names. "I think I shall call you by Fitzwilliam until I can find a shortened name that suits my taste."
Fitzwilliam laughed as his fiancé bit her cheek thinking of different versions of his name. He grasped her hand once more, causing her to stop think to look in his direction. "What is it Mr. Dar...Fitzwilliam?" She blushed at her blunder.
"Elizabeth, I plan to journey to Longbourne tonight to ask for your father's permission in marrying you," he said.
Elizabeth sat speechless for some time before replying, her voice choked full of emotion. "Are you sure that you are well enough for the journey?"
Darcy laughed. "My dear, it is my arm that is hampered, not my legs nor my head. As long as I do not try and lift whatever is in my way, no one will even know about my injury."
"But I do, and my father's permission can wait..." she began. He stopped her. "Yes, but I fear that I cannot. I want to be able to announce to the world that I have managed to win the heart of the most beautiful lady in England, nay, the world. Without your father's permission, I cannot do so and I certainly do not want you not spoken for anymore, not even for another fortnight."
Unshed tears blurred Elizabeth's view as he confessed this. Waiting for love was definitely worth the while, she thought. If only Charlotte had done so, she would not be so unhappy with Mr. Collins.
"Sshh...Don't cry Elizabeth," he whispered, grimacing as he sat up and looked at her, their eyes level. "I will call on your father tonight after supper, so not to intrude. He does not have plans for tonight, does he?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, I will be expecting you Fitzwilliam."
He looked lovingly into her eyes, subconsciously being drawn more into them by each passing second. Suddenly, the sensation of her lips on his drew away all the yearning in his body, the uncertainty that this was all just a dream, and replaced it with confirmation of her love, that she, Elizabeth Bennet, was finally his.
Elizabeth slowly, but regretfully drew back from the embrace with a flush in her cheeks. "Fitzwilliam, I must go now, father will wonder where I have gone off to."
"All right, but please allow Gregory to drive you back," he murmured, not liking the emptiness he felt at being torn from her embraces.
Elizabeth shook her head. "I shall walk. You know how much I enjoy these excursions and since Jane is no longer at Longbourne, I fear I do not have much to return home to."
"Where is the eldest Miss Bennet?"
"Jane," Elizabeth began, feeling slightly apprehensive at the mention of this subject that had once been a factor in separating her from Fitzwilliam, and also thus far, the only accurate accusation she had made against him. "...she went into town to escort my cousins to Longbourne. My Uncle is ill."
Darcy, having sensed Elizabeth's apprehension was quick, but careful in reacting. "I hope your Uncle recovers quickly. But on the subject of your sister, I find that this is a measure that we must resolve." Elizabeth said nothing and Fitzwilliam continued. "I acted rash in my judgment and followed suit in my decisions. Please forgive me, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth smiled, "It is not my forgiveness that you must obtain, for I am not the one suffering the direct consequences of your actions. However, if you would like my support in helping you restore what you have disrupted, then yes, I will help you."
"Thank you, Elizabeth. Jane will soon be my sister-in-law and I cannot have her unhappy, now can I?" he said, his smile showing the relief coursing through his body at Elizabeth's statement.
His fiancé smiled. "Of course not Fitzwilliam, but now I must go. I will see you tonight."
Before she left, he stole on more kiss and Elizabeth departed with a deep blush in her cheeks.
Chapter 3
Meanwhile in London, the London Gentleman's Club, Gents for short, was in full bloom. With the summer so near, many husbands were seeking shelter from the feminine chatter of their wives while those who weren't married sought to escape the mothers that were determined to change their current status.
Among the escapees was a one Charles Bingley. Unlike the other men, married or not, Bingley did not seek the escape of a wife or one who wanted to be his mother-in-law; he looked for shelter against his sisters. Louisa and Caroline had been chatting incessantly about balls and concerts or operas that they planned to attend, especially Caroline whose sole purpose in life was to enchant a rich husband. Even as he left his home in London, Caroline was listing off changes that she would have liked to make to Pemberley once she was mistress. Charles took another swig of his drink as he thought of his sister's fantasies. Pemberley, the home of Fitzwilliam Darcy, the man who had his life in perfect control, would never have Caroline Bingley as mistress.
"Why couldn't I be more like Darcy?" muttered Bingley to no one in particular. Just then, Sir Tippoly invited him to a game of billiards. Having nothing else to do and not particularly wanting to return home, he agreed and they took a table.
"So Bingley, what's been on your mind lately, 'ol chap?" It was quite ironic that Sir Trippoly, husband to a wife, father to six grown children would be calling Charles Bingley, barely over the age of six and twenty, old. But then, that's exactly how Charles felt, worn and old. The last time he had felt young and jovial was...Hertfordshire, or more importantly, the last time he had seen Jane Bennet. Just thinking about her angelic features and personality made him practically bubble in the insides.
"Bingley, are you planning to break?"
Charles looked up. "Yes, sorry there, a little preoccupied." He bent over the table and stroke the white cue ball with a well aimed hit...sending the black eight ball directly into the pocket. "Damn!" he exclaimed.
Sir Trippoly just laughed. "Don't bother, we'll just start again." The aging man began to replace the balls in the triangle holder while Bingley looked on. "Say Bingley," Sir Trippoly started.
"Yes?"
"Have you heard from your friend Darcy lately?"
Charles thought about it. "No, actually, I have not hear from him for a few weeks. Last I heard he was at Rosings visiting his Lady Catherine DeBourgh with Colonel Fitzwilliam."
The balls were once again set in the right position and Sir Trippoly, pitying the bad luck Bingley had had with his last shot, allowed the young man to try and break again. He did not, however, allow Charles any silence.
"Hmm...while I was in town yesterday, my wife had her friend Ellen Scott in our sitting room for tea. She gave out a rather interesting piece of information about your friend." The tone in which Sir Trippoly executed this statement suggested that the old man would not let Bingley move another muscle unless he inquired further. As expected Bingley answered, while setting up his shot once again, "What would that be, sir?"
"He has apparently fallen head over heals with the eldest girl of a family called Bennet!"
If Bingley's first shot had been bad, his second one was downright pathetic. Missing the cue ball entirely, Charles leg go of his stick, which skirted smartly across the table and into the glass behind, shattering it to a thousand pieces. The balls on the billiard table, however, amazingly remained untouched and perfectly in place.
Sir Trippoly could only look with his jaw hanging open while other gentlemen gathered to witness what had caused the great commotion. Attendants quickly moved to clean the mess while Bingley just stood the end of the green table, both hands gripping it like a lifeline. In calm, steady words, he asked Sir Trippoly once again. "Sir, did you say the eldest daughter of a family by the name of Bennet?"
Caught unaware by such a question, Sir Trippoly stammered, "Why, yes."
"Do you have any notion as to where they are from?"
Thinking back on the conversation the old man answered. "I believe they are from the country. Say Bingley, isn't that where your new estate is?"
Bingley heard no more. Bidding his farewells to the other gentlemen, he rushed out of the club and called for his carriage, barely able to contain his anger. How could he?! Bingley had a calm and easy going temper, but this far exceeded the limits. Had Darcy not told him only weeks ago that Jane did not appear to have feelings for him? That he should aim his admirations and intentions towards more worthy candidates? Then why in God's holy name would Fitzwilliam Darcy turn around and begin courting Jane? Never in any moment had Darcy displayed any such interest in Jane. Was this a hoax of some kind?
By the time Charles arrived at his home, his thoughts were still deep in the matters of Darcy and Jane. Jane Bennet was the best thing that had happened to his life. One of the last words his late father had said to him was to fight for what he wanted, and to not give in. Praying thanks to his departed parent, Charles quickly ordered his servant to ride to Netherfield and notify the household to prepare for their master's return.
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"Lydia," Elizabeth whispered to her youngest sister. "I need you assistance."
Lydia looked at Elizabeth in confusion. "What?" Her elder sister had a disposition and personality so different from hers that they rarely kept the same company, not to mention that they had never kept confidences, and Elizabeth had never asked a favor of her. Lydia was perked.
"Lydia, I need you to take mama out of the house for a little while this evening," began Elizabeth, fully expecting the onslaught of questions that was to ensue. To her great surprise, Lydia only asked a simple "Why?"
"Papa and I must discuss important matters and I do not want mama to be in the way."
Lydia contemplated this for a moment. She had known since her earliest memory that Elizabeth was her father's favorite daughter, and she herself was the one in which he found most indifferent to himself in personality and intelligence level. "All right, under one circumstance."
Elizabeth groaned. "What?"
"I get to borrow your blue bonnet."
Elizabeth nodded, but warned. "If you dare put a hole through this as you did your own, than the next thing you will put on your head is bird's nest." Lizzy smiled at her younger sister. It was nice to have this type of conversation once in a while.
With Lydia and Mrs. Bennet off to visit Mrs. Phillips, accompanied by Kitty, Elizabeth felt comfortable that Mr. Darcy and her father would receive no disturbances throughout their intercourse. She then went into the library to speak with her father about the caller.
"Father, I do hope that you do not have anything planned for tonight."
Putting down his book, Mr. Bennet eyes his daughter wearily. "No, Lizzie, I do not. May I ask why?"
"There is a gentleman who has requested to call upon us tonight, if you do not mind."
Mr. Bennet was at full attention. "If he is the reason that your mother and younger sisters have left the house, then tell the gentleman that I would be pleased to meet with the soul that has allowed me this blessed silence."
Lizzy smiled and bid her father a temporary goodbye as she returned to her place in the sitting room next to Mary, who was once again reading from a sermon book. What a pity that Mr. Collins did not choose her as a wife, Elizabeth thought to herself as she resumed her embroidery.
Twenty minutes later, the gallop of horses outside brought Elizabeth to attention. Mrs. Hill answered the door to reveal a regal looking Mr. Darcy, who quickly scanned the entryway for a sign of Elizabeth. Upon catching sight of her, he bent over her hand and brought it to his lips. As he looked into her eyes, it was as if they were the only existing souls in the world.
Finding his voice once again, Darcy asked of Elizabeth, "Miss Bennet, could I please have the honor of speaking to your father this evening?"
Elizabeth nodded and summoned Mrs. Hill to take Mr. Darcy to the library.
Although Mr. Bennet had absolutely no inkling of the visitor that would be calling, the young man that entered his library was probably the last person in the world next to the Prince Regent that he had expected to see.
Bowing to the man seated before him, Mr. Darcy was all politeness. "Mr. Bennet, I...um...it is a nice evening is it not?"
Curiously removing his spectacles from his nose and closing his book, Mr. Bennet glanced at the proud and arrogant young man, standing before him as if he were no better than a nervous schoolboy. "Mr. Darcy, it is obvious that you have come here with intention. Now, please, so not to prolong this uncomfortable atmosphere, please state you intentions."
Fitzwilliam looked at Mr. Bennet in all astonishment. It was quite obvious who Elizabeth received her frankness from. "Yes, Mr. Bennet, you are correct. I have come with a very important question that I fear may cause you grief."
Mr. Bennet urged him to continue, a feeling from his heart forewarning him of what was to come.
"I would like to ask your permission to marry you daughter." There, thought Fitzwilliam, it is out.
Closing his eyes briefly, Mr. Bennet rose from his chair and idly walked around the back of it. "Mr. Darcy, I have five daughters and cannot very well marry them all off to you. Which is it that you request the hand of?" he asked, knowing full well who it was, but wanting to prolong the inevitable.
"Your second eldest, Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth."
Mr. Bennet sighed. "You should know by now that Lizzy is my favorite daughter. She is the only one in which I cannot find any fault in that I myself does not posses. My second daughter is very dear to me, so please indulge me Mr. Darcy, why do you believe that I would give you such a privilege?"
Fitzwilliam shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Mr. Bennet, I love your daughter and admire her more than any person or possession I have met or own. There is nothing in the world that can compare to my feelings for her, and there will not ever be anyone else that I feel so strongly about."
His words were not very impressive to Mr. Bennet, but it was the look in Darcy's eyes that convinced Mr. Bennet of his conviction and honesty. Sighing to himself, Mr. Bennet looked at Darcy. "Son, if you have Elizabeth's permission, then I grant you mine."
A wide smile made its way across Darcy's cheeks as he thanked Mr. Bennet incessantly. After promising to call Elizabeth into the library, Fitzwilliam exited with a grin that, upon seeing it, told Elizabeth everything she needed to know.
"My love," he said, grasping her hands and drawing them to his chest. "We are to be married."
Unable to speak, Elizabeth embraced him and slid into the library to meet her father.
"What are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?" Mr. Bennet exclaimed.
Lizzy smiled and went to kneel before her father. "I do believe we were indifferent at first, but he is so different than what I had first imagined. He is so wonderful to me." She then related to him the happenings in London, shedding a new light on Mr. Darcy in her father's mind.
Kissing his daughter in the forehead, he said, "Lizzy, I have dreamed of the day that I would be able to marry off my daughters, but never you, my dear girl, never you. Seeing you as the first to go breaks my poor old heart, but if you are happy with this man, then so be it. I give you my blessing."
With tears coursing down her cheeks, she could only murmur, "Thank you father" before embracing him in a large hug.
As she exited the library, Mrs. Hill told her with a wink that Mr. Darcy was waiting outside for her. As she went through the doors in search of her beloved, Elizabeth couldn't help but think that she was living in a dream.
Fitzwilliam looked up at the sound of the door opening to meet the sparkling eye of Elizabeth. "Come here, I have something for you."
She walked over towards him and was presented with a small velvet box. "I brought this to Rosings with me intending to give it to you, however certain circumstances did not allow that. I don't know why I've kept it with me, but I'm glad I did." He opened the box to reveal a large square cut diamond set on a gold band, which was lined around with deep red rubies.
Elizabeth could only gasp at the exquisiteness of the gift being presented to her. Darcy continued by turning the ring in an angle that allowed her to see the inside. "This was the engagement ring that my father gave to my mother. She wore it up until the day she died."
On the inside of the ring, the initials GD were linked with AF by a small heart. Examining it more closely, Elizabeth could see that next to it, FD and EB were similarly displayed. Still in awe over her gift, Elizabeth could only cry silently as Fitzwilliam slipped the ring onto her finger. He lifted her chin and brushed away her tears. "I love you Elizabeth."
"I love you too Fitzwilliam," she replied before her mouth was covered by his in a tender kiss that took her breath away.
Pulling back, he let go of her. "I must go for the sake of propriety. Please allow me to call on you tomorrow evening."
Nodding, Elizabeth watched as the carriage rolled around the corner and disappeared into the night. Before she could completely let herself into the door, the Bennet carriage, carrying Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters arrived and the threesome departed from it in frenzy.
Once safely inside the house, Elizabeth exited to her room in order to reflect upon the evening's happenings. She was engaged! The Mr. Darcy! Mrs. Darcy she thought. How wonderful it sounded. The ring on her finger seemed to sparkle in agreement. Such a wonderful night, she thought to herself. There wasn't even a need for dreaming, for all that she dreamt of, and more, had just occurred in reality.
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In the room across the hall from hers, Lydia Bennet was lying on her bed reflecting on the young man that they had met on their journey. He was so handsome and dashing, not to mention charming. Mr. Wickham she thought, how wonderful it sounded, especially since he was to call tomorrow night!
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Chapter 4
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Charles Binlgey got into his carriage towards Netherfield that evening with anger boiling in the pit of his stomach, but even more so, there was hurt that his best friend had betrayed him, not even allowing him a fair competition for Jane's love. Pushing these thoughts aside, he watched as the night scene of London whisked past him, dreaming sweet thoughts of his dear Jane. Little did he know, not a mile away sat the very subject of his thoughts in another carriage, thinking of him.
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The next day passed chaotically in the Bennet household. The news of Lizzy's engagement had not been announced, nor was any hint of it discovered until the family was gathered around the breakfast table, where the sun caught the light of the diamond, causing it to sparkle brilliantly.
"LIZZY!!! My girl! What is that you have on you hand?! And on that finger?! Do not tease me like this! Take that off or else you would have many a good gentleman think that you are spoken for!!!" she shrieked, gesturing wildly with her hands.
Elizabeth only smiled. "Why do you presume that I am not spoken for?"
"That is obvious," scoffed Mrs. Bennet in a voice of self-importance, "the gentleman must actually call before he proposes. Do not vex me any longer, daughter, and either switch the finger of that ring or remove it!"
Elizabeth laughed and stared pointedly at her father, who said, "Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth will definitely not remove the article of jewelry and I forbid you to order her to do so any longer."
"Hill!!!" shrieked Mrs. Bennet. "Help me up to my room! I am too distraught to continue with this meal!!!" She left the room before Mrs. Hill could even enter it, leaving the middle-aged housekeeper shaking her head in disdain for her mistress.
Having decided that the announcement would not be made until Mr. Darcy was present, Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet evaded the hoard of questions that nagged them throughout the remainder of the day.
As evening came upon them and supper was finished, Mr. Bennet once again retreated to the library and the ladies of the house worked on their separate tasks in the sitting room; Lydia and Kitty gossiping about redcoats, Mrs. Bennet fanning herself on the couch, Mary practicing on the pianoforte, and Elizabeth absentmindedly working on her embroidery.
A whiney of horses brought them all to attention as Lydia and Kitty sprang from their seats and crowded around the entranceway to greet the visitor. Elizabeth, believing that it was Mr. Darcy, smiled and blushed as she put down her embroidery and rose slowly from her seat, willing herself not to run into the arms of her beloved and plow him straight through the door once again. Unfortunately, that would not be a problem, for it was not Mr. Darcy who entered the door, it was Mr. Wickham.
Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet rushed forward while Mary and Elizabeth lagged behind, the latter two not at all excited about the caller, but for two different reasons.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" Wickham exclaimed, practically ignoring the younger girls, to their great dismay. "I must say it is a pleasure seeing you again." He bent low over her hand and gave her a charmed look before kissing it. Any witty retort she may have made was interrupted by the announcement of another visitor.
"Oh dear me!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "Are we to have another gentleman call?"
Elizabeth had long escaped to the entranceway upon the announcement where she was greeted with a quick embrace from her fiancé. Once his had and coat were taken he offered her his arm to escort her to the sitting room.
"Fitzwilliam, I noticed that when Mrs. Hill was taking your coat, you were discomforted," she inquired, having seen the grimace on his face.
He was quick to assure her. "Do not worry, my dear, it is only the stiffness. Tell me though, have you told your family about the news?"
She shook her head. "Father and I decided to wait until you were present." Stopping him upon reaching the sitting room door, she turned to face him. "Fitzwilliam, there is something I must tell you..."
Before she could continue, the door was swung open by Lydia, anxious to see to the identity of the caller. Silence was imminent and spread throughout the room as those who had once been chatting observed the newcomer. Mrs. Bennet was the first to recover. "Mr. Darcy," she said with an air of arrogance that cause Elizabeth's gut to wrench, "what brings you here?"
"I was in town and decided to pay a visit," he said calmly to Mrs. Bennet, all the while, his eyes resting in a cold stare upon Wickham. "Mr. Wickham, what a surprise it is to see you present."
Wickham bowed slightly, "Same to you Darcy, what a pleasant surprise it is indeed." His voice practically dripped of sarcasm.
Mr. Bennet, who had just exited the library, noticed the uncomfortable silence. Upon seeing Darcy, he went over to greet the young man. "Darcy, pleasure to see you again so soon!" they shook hands after Mr. Darcy gave a slight bow.
Wickham at once noted the familiarity of Mr. Bennet's address. Could it be that Darcy had it in for one of the Bennet girls? Possibly Elizabeth? Yes, it would seem so, he thought to himself. Scheming quickly to think of a way to once again damage his nemeses' reputation, Wickham walked over to the couple. "How long has it been since you were in Hertfordshire, Darcy?"
"I arrived two days ago."
Mrs. Bennet, who had finally found her voice, picked this inopportune moment to butt into the conversation. "Ahh! What a coincidence! That is the same day Lizzy returned!"
Anyone with half a brain could tell that the two had at least met on their journey. Wickham was not slow nor dense, he could sense an underlying relationship between Elizabeth and Darcy. As Mrs. Bennet continued babbling, Wickham detected a slight glimmer around the region of Darcy's arm. Upon closer examination, it was from the hand that rested upon it, Elizabeth's hand! Careful to not let his surprise show, Wickham soon realized that it was the exact same ring that he recalled the late Anne Darcy wear when he passed his summers at Pemberly! That could only mean one thing.
"Miss Elizabeth, I am in all curiosity over that ring your are wearing. It is quite lovely."
Before Elizabeth could answer, Mrs. Bennet fretted, "Oh it is nothing Mr. Wickham, just a token of London or Kent, I am sure!"
Interrupting his wife with a cough and a glare, Mr. Bennet said, "Actually, it is not ordinary. Lizzy, my dear, I believe you and Mr. Darcy have an announcement to make."
All sat or stood in awe as Elizabeth said. "Mr. Darcy and I...are...engaged to be married."
"OHHH!!! LIZZY!" cried Mrs. Bennet, rushing over to her daughter. "How could you not tell me!!! What a lovely ring, although I am sure that this is nothing compared to what else Mr. Darcy can be afforded to purchase. We will have a GRAND wedding! One daughter MARRIED!" Ignoring the look of complete horror on Elizabeth's face, she moved on to Darcy. "MR. DARCY! Oh it is a pleasure to have such a tall, handsome, and rich son-in-law! You must call upon us soon, tomorrow perhaps! What is your favorite dish? I shall have it prepared anytime! Ohhhh!!!!!" with that, Mrs. Bennet collapsed in the sofa, however, she rose again, singing praises to the man whom, only a few minutes ago, she had greeted so coldly.
This news of Darcy's happiness disgusted Wickham. If there was one thing in this world that gave him pleasure, it was to see Fitzwilliam Darcy suffer. And how here he was, engaged to the woman Wickham had had his eyes set on, not to mention being praised as if he were the Prince Regent himself. It was too much to bear. After hastily making his excuses, Wickham departed, vowing to himself that Darcy was not going to claim victory so easily.
To be continued...the next chapter will deal mainly with Bingley and Jane, and all the misunderstandings surrounding that particular couple!
Feedback is welcome, nay, praised!
Chapter 5
The days following the announcement, Mrs. Bennet found herself sufficiently recovered from her shock to venture out into town to inform all of Meryton of her daughter's engagement.
The day that Mr. Bingley arrived in Hertfordshire, he was bombarded with welcome from his household staff. Upon bathing and redressing for an outing, he heard a maid say from around the corner, "I wonder if Mr. Darcy is to come visit with his newly betrothed, Miss Bennet."
Another maid pondered the question. "I hope so, I daresay what I saw of her last was not the best way to view such a lady."
Bingley could hear no more as he jammed his hat on and went in the direction of town, missing the last comment of the two maids, "I know, but I daresay, her sister was in even worse condition, being sick and all."
On his way to the mail office, Bingley passed a sweets shop. Having always fallen prey to the sweet tooth, he stepped in for a treat, and stood shocked at the doorway upon seeing Jane Bennet, surrounded by four young children, each enjoying their new treat that their elder cousin had purchased for them. She stared back, equally surprised.
"Mr. Bingley," she murmured, curtsying with nervousness, barely able to restrain her emotions. Charles bowed with equal awkwardness, mistaking her awkwardness for uncertainty with meeting the best friend of her fiancé. "Miss Bennet."
He nodded and left the store, leaving Jane almost in tears in his abrupt departure. How foolish I was to think he actually loved me, she thought. The restless movements of her cousins caused her to once again resume her jovial mood, although it was only a mask now, and return to Longbourn.
Elizabeth greeted them as they arrived and after kissing each of her cousins, and spent the rest of the day playing outside with them. After nightfall, she quickly ushered Jane into the privacy of her room to relay the news.
"No, it cannot be! Oh Lizzy, did you not always find him arrogant and disagreeable?" she gasped, grasping her sister's hands.
Elizabeth could only smile. "Yes, but I daresay that there is much to tell you." She then related all that was in his letter and all the events that had happened in Kent, London, and Hertfordshire that led to the present day.
Jane embraced her sister with tears. "I am so happy, Lizzy. It is such wonderful news!"
Elizabeth smiled. "So, tell me of your journey."
Jane immediately sobered and Elizabeth inquired about her change of mood. "Well, Lizzy, Little John had a special craving for sweets and I took him to the sweets shop that we used to spend all of our pocket money in." Elizabeth smiled at this memory, Jane continued. "You would scarcely believe who I saw."
"Who?"
"Mr. Bingley!" cried Jane, her eyes suddenly tearing up. "But he was so abrupt, acknowledging me and leaving. I don't know what to think!"
Elizabeth knew exactly what to think, or so she thought. "Jane, I will talk to Fitzwilliam tomorrow to see if he could possible call on Mr. Bingley. Perhaps they could come to an understanding. I assure you though, there is no lost feeling on his side towards you."
"I hope you are right," sniffed Jane.
Bidding each other goodnight, they retreated to their respective rooms.
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The next morning, Elizabeth was out on a walk to pick some flowers for the sitting room arrangements. While contemplating a bush of lilacs, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and the soft clean smell of men's cologne evade her senses. "Hello my dear," the deep, loving voice of Fitzwilliam Darcy whispered into her ear. She smiled and fell back into his arms. "Good afternoon Fitzwilliam."
She turned and faced him. "Did you know that Netherfield Park has been opened again? That Mr. Bingley is here?"
The look of surprise answered her question. "No, I did not."
"Jane met with him yesterday, and she is quite upset at the way he treated her," she said, trying her hardest to not let the accusing tone find its way into her statement, but not at all successful.
Darcy sobered as he recalled his fault. "Don't despair, my love, I will visit Bingley immediately and sort this out, and then, with any luck, the both of us will return to Longbourn in order to call upon you."
Elizabeth smiled at him and whispered a small "Thank you."
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Charles was looking over some Netherfield contracts when a maid came in and announced the arrival of Mr. Darcy. Surprised and unprepared for such an early confrontation, Bingley could only stand and look, rather coldly, upon the man whom he believed had cheated his way into the heart of Jane Bennet.
"Bingley, good to see you," said Darcy, striding towards his friend. Upon noticing the look on Charles's face, he stopped mid-stride. "What is the matter."
The initial shock over, Bingley scoffed and went around to the front of his desk. "You tell Darcy. I am surprised to hear that question when you know very well what the answer is."
Dumbfounded, Fitzwilliam asked, "I must inquire as to the problem, unless Caroline has been acting up even more." Expecting a smile from his friend, but only receiving a glare.
Charles had waked towards the window and turned away from Fitzwilliam. His whole body tensed as he felt the nearness of his former friend. The touch of Darcy's hand on his shoulder was all that it took for Bingley to lash out. The last thing Darcy saw before stars was a pair icy blue eyes, backed by hell on earth. This must be proof that those with amiable tempers can pack a good wallop, he thought as he looked at his friend with an expression of pure shock.
Barely able to remain on his feet, Fitzwilliam put a hand to the corner of his mouth and base of his nose, where he could feel a bruise begin to form along the corner of his lip, in addition to the sticky blood that came off on his fingers, most likely from his nose. Damn, he thought to himself, two fights in less than one week, and all for love nonetheless!
Charles Bingley sneered at his friend and walked up to him. "You knew full well my intentions towards Miss Bennet and yet you deterred me from them, only to propose to her yourself ?!" his last words were shouted at Darcy. Backing the other man into the bookcase, Bingley grabbed Darcy by the collar, shaking him. "I loved her Darcy! With all my being, and you took that away! How could you?!"
"What?!" exclaimed Darcy. This was unbelievable. How could Bingley possibly be attracted to or in love with his Elizabeth? They had always been on friendly terms with each other, but never did that ever cross the line into love. Hadn'te he always preferred Jane? "Did I just hear right?"
Believing Darcy to be feigning ignorance, Charles rammed his forearm up Fitzwilliam's collar, eliciting a cry of pain from his friend, who was sure that the old shoulder wound was open once again. "Did you even stop to think of my feelings when you proposed?! Did you even consider my intentions toward her?! She was everything to me! EVERYTHING!" Every stressed word caused Charles to push further into his friend's body, causing dark spots to appear in Darcy's line of vision.
With that last word, Bingley gave one final shove, which proved to be enough to dislodge the books above that were already perched precariously over their heads to begin with, having not yet been properly shelved. They rained down on the men, causing Bingley to gasp as on landed on the curly blond platform that was his head. This caused him to cease his attack and let go of Darcy. Relieved that his friend had stopped trying to suffocate him and break his ribs, Fitzwilliam slid to the ground, gently cradling his left arm, so not to jar it further.
As Bingley continued to glare and rub his head, Fitzwilliam looked up and said calmly, "Charles, had I known that you had any romantic inclination towards Elizabeth, then there would not have been a shadow of doubt that I would have consulted you before I asked her to be my wife."
His explanation was abruptly cut off as Bingley looked at him, "You knew full well tha-" a questioning look suddenly came over Charles. "Did you say Elizabeth?"
Using his good arm to wipe the blood flow from his nostril, Darcy stared up at Bingley with a look of exasperation. "Of course! Who did you think I was talking about, Jane?" Sudden realization dawned on the two friends as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "You did, didn't you? In fact, that's who you thought I had proposed to!"
Completely shocked, and with embarrassment creeping steadily into his thoughts, Charles quickly bent to help Darcy to his feet. "I must say, Darcy, I am incredibly sorry."
Wincing as he stood, Fitzwilliam looked at his flustered friend. Maybe it was the positive influence of his fiancé, or maybe it was because of the deer in the lamplights look that Charles had plastered on his face, but the situation struck him as completely comical.
Bingley looked at his friend, expecting reprimand, but was completely shocked to find laugher. "Aren't you..."
Darcy shook his head. "Bingley, it is I that needs to apologize." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I directed you to separate yourself from Jane under the false pretenses that she did not return your affection without letting you decide that for yourself. She also visited London a while back, however, I chose to disclose this information from you."
Charles didn't know what to say. "Are you telling me that she was in London and you never told me?!" Suddenly getting the urge to want to take another swing at Darcy, Bingley decided that it would be wise to keep his distance. "You said false pretenses. What makes you think that they are false?" asked Bingley, remembering Jane's cold acknowledgement of him earlier.
Darcy grinned, and then winced as his split lip and bloody nose protested. "I have it under good confidences that Jane is still rather enamored by you."
Harsh feelings quickly subsided upon hearing this piece of information. "Really? Are you sure?"
Darcy nodded while Charles continued to rant in glee. "Darcy, where are you staying? Please allow me to extend my invitations to you to stay here at Netherfield."
Heartily agreeing, Fitzwilliam walked slowly away from the bookshelf, noticing that there was more than one book still dangling dangerously above their heads. Upon noticing his friend's discomfort, Bingley blushed a deep hue of red, apologized once again for his actions, and led Darcy up to a guestroom.
"I could knock myself over the head for my stupidity!" exclaimed Bingley.
Fitzwilliam coughed and said, indicating the already forming bruise on Charles's forehead, "No need, the book already did it for you."
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Elizabeth was sitting at home fretting about Jane and Charles while she contemplated whether or not to tell her sister about the circumstances around Bingley's sudden awkwardness, but then decided better. Fitzwilliam would take care of it, she thought.
Deciding fresh air was what she needed, Elizabeth grabbed her bonnet and set out on a walk to find Jane, who had gone out earlier with the four Gardner children. Not knowing which direction the other five had set out to, Elizabeth decided to take the more scenic route, which also just happened to be the one going towards Netherfield. Although going to the estate was not her intention, the memory of her last visit their when Jane was ill could not be suppressed as she grinned, thinking about the shocked look on her fiancé's face when he had seen her brought a smile to her face.
Closing her eyes to enjoy the light breeze, Elizabeth thought to herself, "I wonder what he's doing now..."
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"Doctor, is this really necessary?"
Dr. Crawford was getting quite tired of the young man sitting on the bed before him. It was only a few days ago that he had redressed a rather deep shoulder wound on Mr. Darcy, and now the man, ignoring his advice about not moving it, had gone and re-opened it!
"Yes, Mr. Darcy, considering my last piece of advice was not followed, this is the only thing that at least guarantees that you will not continue to strain yourself further," he said, tying the final not of the sling behind Fitzwilliam's neck.
Fitzwilliam sat in exasperation on the guest bed at Netherfield, shooting a small glare in Bingley's direction, where he stood in the doorway holding an cloth wrapped around ice over the giant lump on his forehead. What a pair we make!
As the doctor left, with stern advice of bed rest for the both of them, Charles walked slowly to his friend, who was once again trying to extract himself from the confinements of the sling.
"Darcy," he began. "That wound was not inflicted by myself. How did you receive it?"
Sighing, Fitzwilliam related to his friend the story of Hunsford, London, and eventually the engagement between him and Elizabeth in Hertfordshire. After the explanation, Bingley just shook his head in amazement. "You are not a lucky man these days, are you?"
Laughing, Fitzwilliam replied, "It may be that the heavens are finding their ways to punish me for my many blunders."
Relieved to be on good terms once again, the two men conversed of the Bennet sisters and London happenings. Charles also related his outrageous mishap at the billiards table while at the Gent's Club, causing his friend to erupt in laughter. His laughter was cut short, however, when he remembered his promise to Elizabeth earlier that day. "Damn!" he exclaimed.
"What?"
Fitzwilliam looked at his friend ruefully. "I told Elizabeth that I would call on her this evening, with you, if everything worked out all right."
Bingley shrugged. "We can go then."
Darcy laughed. "What will they think when they catch a look at the two of us?"
This thought also hit Bingley, "I suppose Jane would want nothing to do with me for slugging her future brother-in-law," he said miserably, causing his friend to laugh.
"Charles, most likely, you will occupy the position of her husband, which is by far more important in a woman's life than the husband of her sisiter."
Nodding with hope in his eyes, Bingley then decided that he would very much like to call at Longbourn that evening, but Fitzwilliam decided to remain at Netherfield, in fear that Elizabeth would inflict even more damage upon viewing his already battered and bruised condition. Agreeing with his friend, Bingley took leave of him, taking a horse to Longbourn in hopes of possibly catching Jane for a walk before their evening engagement.
A bonneted head a small distance away from him gave Charles a spark of hope, but upon further scrutiny, he realized that it was Elizabeth, not her sister Jane.
A distant voice calling her name brought Elizabeth to attention. Although definitely male, the voice was not he deep, husky one that she was used to being addressed by from her fiancé. No, this voice was definitely more tenor, even more cheery, than Fitzwilliam. Looking up, she saw a man on horseback, with blond curls escaping beyond the confinements of the top hat that the gentleman wore. "Mr. Bingley!" she exclaimed.
Quickly getting off of his horse, Bingley bowed before Elizabeth. "Miss Elizabeth! I must say it is a pleasure!"
"Yes-" Elizabeth was looking not at Charles, but at the rather large bruise on the man's head that had spread from his forehead down to the far corner of his eye. "-Mr. Bingley," she said, blushing at her impoliteness and staring, "Please allow me to apologize for not properly receiving you, it was just...pray, are you quite all right?"
Dumfounded, Charles looked at her strangely, and then following her line of vision, remembered his quite colorful forehead. "Oh, yes Miss Elizabeth, I thank you for asking, I am quite well, but for a small...ah...run in with a book."
Nodding, Elizabeth desperately wanted to resume normal conversation. "Jane informed me yesterday of you arrival, when did you come by?"
"But yesterday, Miss Elizabeth, I must admit it was quite a shock to see your sister, I was caught completely unaware," said Bingley, not without a deep blush to enhance his already flushed cheeks. "May I inquire after her health?"
Smiling at he obvious affection this man had towards her sister, Elizabeth replied that her sister was very well indeed. "Is Fitz-ah...Mr. Darcy not with you?"
Charles, well aware that Elizabeth would be appalled by what had transpired between the two friends, chose to not inform Elizabeth about the events of earlier that morning. "He is...ah...not feeling very well and is resting at Netherfield."
With deep concern, Elizabeth asked about his condition. "He was fine this morning..." she mused.
Deciding that Elizabeth, being the intelligent lady that she was, would eventually find out about his friend's condition, invited her to Netherfield, volunteering to escort her there himself.
"Oh no, I couldn't trouble you like that," she said. When he was about to object, a thought entered her mind. "In fact, I think I just saw Jane walking with our young cousins in this direction. I'm sure they could use an escort."
This brought a special light to Bingley's eyes, as he apologized to Elizabeth and went to bring his horse around. Before he saddled, he took Elizabeth's hand, to her great surprise, and planted a kiss to it. "May I congratulate you, my dear Miss Elizabeth?"
Realizing to what he was referring, she blushed and thanked him. As he was on his way in the search for Jane, she began her trek to Netherfield. There was not much to go and the day was still bright.
Chapter 6
There, on the grass, sat Jane, smiling gaily at her young cousins as they ran around each other playing a game of ring around the daisies. The sun shone on her blond head, no longer covered by her bonnet, which rested askew beside her. It was as if an angel had descended from heaven and appeared to him on the grass.
Rooted on the spot, Bingley could only stare. Realizing how impolite it was to simply gaze at someone unannounced, Charles stepped into the clearing and cleared his throat.
The children, being a rather noisy bunch at the moment, did not even notice. Jane, however, looked up expectantly, but the smile soon disappeared as a shocked expression took over her face. "Mr. Bingley." She struggled to stand from her lounging position and was shocked to find two strong hands helping her up.
They could only look at each other for what seemed like eternity before Annabelle, one of Jane's young cousins came up to them, her younger siblings in tow. "Cousin Jane?"
Disturbed from their reverie, the two broke apart from their half-embraced position and looked at the young girl's freckled face. "Yes, Belle?"
Before she could answer, her younger sister shrieked, "Prince Charming! Cousin Jane! He looks just like your Prince Charming from Netherland that you told us about!"
Prince Charming from Netherland? thought Charles. Then it hit him as hard as the book. She was talking about him! After all this time, Jane did still have feelings for him.
Completely embarrassed by the recall of her fairy tale that she had told little Beth in the carriage, Jane looked down, away from Charles's face momentarily, after telling the children to make their formal introductions and to continue playing. After they left, Charles placed the tip of his index finger under her delicate chin and lifted it towards eye-level.
"Jane..."
She looked up at him and he was lost in the light blue pools that were so different from her sister's hazel ones. "Yes..." she whispered.
Struggling to maintain propriety, he backed away slightly and cleared the blockage that had suddenly found its way to his throat. "Please allow me to call upon you tonight?'
Silently nodding, she also backed away, to look at him more intensely. It was then that she also saw what her sister had seen moments ago. "Mr. Bingley! Your head..."
The headache that had been forgotten momentarily returned now with a vengeance. Wincing slightly, Bingley touched his hand to the bruise that protruded nastily from his otherwise smooth skin. Damn Shakespeare, he thought. Why did the full collection of the man's plays have to be so long...or in this case, so large?
"It is nothing," he said. "I had a slight run in with Shakespeare this morning...or rather the full collection of his plays in one, large, hardbound book."
He smiled at the obvious concern in her eyes as she invited him to sit beside her so that they may both enjoy the sun. Gladly accepting, he sat as they talked of London and Hertfordshire, as well as Elizabeth's engagement to Mr. Darcy.
Time flew by quickly, much more quickly than the two lovebirds would have preferred as Jane proclaimed that the children must be returning to Netherfield.
Charles helped her up as he bent over her hand and bestowed a tender kiss to it. "I will see you tonight, my love."
Speechless due to her surprise and happiness upon hearing the endearment, Jane could only nod. Lizzy was right! He did love her. Her heart soared as she watched him disappear into the bushes, the trot of a horse telling her that he had left. Dreamily collecting the Gardiner children, she returned home to Longbourn, excited and bursting to tell Lizzie of the good news.
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The person in question was well on her way to Netherfield by the time Bingley found his angel in the field. As the door was opened and Elizabeth let in, the smell of crisp newness of a newly opened estate flooded her senses. "May I trouble you to announce to Mr. Darcy that I am here to call upon him?"
Andrews, the ever so formal butler, raised his eyebrows at the rather improper behavior of this young woma; seeing a young man unaccompanied, what was to become of the young ladies these days? Nevertheless, he received her name and went up the staircase to call upon Mr. Darcy.
Having just finally drifted off to sleep, Fitzwilliam was jerked roughly from his dream about Elizabeth by a sharp knock at the door. "Yes?!" he practically shouted.
Andrews entered, silently cursing himself for not checking of the man was asleep. "Mr. Darcy, there is a young lady by the name of Miss Elizabeth Bennet waiting for you downstairs; should I show her up?"
"Yes! Of course," he said, then, not wanting to sound too eager, "Please show her into my sitting room, I will not be long, for I must at first be decently attired."
Andrews nodded. "Do you require assistance?" he asked, noting Darcy's arm.
Not wanting to explain his shoulder to Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam was intending to take the contraption off before her arrival. "No, I will be fine," he said.
Elizabeth was soon shown into the empty room and she seated herself near the fireplace, which was empty in reference to the nice day outside. What could be keeping him? she thought.
Darcy had decided against formal wear due to the sharp pain in his arm that the stiff material of the coat had elicited. Pulling only a silk dressing robe over his shirt and breeches, he entered the sitting room.
Upon hearing the door to the bed chambers open, Elizabeth jumped up, in anticipation of an embrace, but only gasped in horror of the battered face that met her. The whole left side of his face had bruised up, much like Mr. Bingley's forehead and in addition, Fitzwilliam's lip was cut and swollen, making it rather plump in contrast to the usual thinness.
Not taking long for the connection to click into place, Elizabeth stared at him incredulously. "Fitzwilliam George Darcy! Just what were you and Mr. Bingley engaged in this morning? It was my understanding that you were to talk, not beat each other into bloody and bruised..." she paused, searching for the right word.
He took this opportunity to take her in his arms, trying at best to ignore the pain in his shoulder. Maybe I should have listened to the doctor, he thought, but then decided better...this would be painful, but had Elizabeth found out what he did to his shoulder, her reaction could be fatal.
However, Elizabeth Bennet didn't bear the title of the most intelligent of Mr. Bennet's daughters for no reason. When her arms wound around his broad shoulders, she heard him gasp and felt through her sleeve the extra bulk of bandage that had not been there previously. The first thought was concern, but then, realizing that he was well enough to embrace her, she decided to let him suffer...if only for a while.
"...pigs."
Darcy looked up, confused. "What?"
Elizabeth stepped back from his arms. "You and Mr. Bingley. Now would you like to tell me about this argument of yours?"
Shaking his head and chortling, Fitzwilliam sat down in the chair opposite Elizabeth and explained to her what had happened throughout he course of the morning.
Elizabeth looked at him, stricken. "I can scarcely believe it! Poor Mr. Bingley."
Darcy almost spit out his tea. "Poor Mr. Bingley? What about me?" he asked with a grin.
"It seems sir," Elizabeth began, eyeing him with laughing eyes, "that you have acquired the art of teasing."
They were interrupted at that moment by Andrews the butler, who announced the arrival of the doctor again. Elizabeth couldn't decipher the meaning behind the stricken look on her fiancé's face at the announcement.
"Mr. Darcy, greetings to you," the short, stout man greeted, upon entering, "and to you also, Miss Lizzy. I am so sorry, but I seemed to have left one of my bags here this morning while treating you and Mr. Bingley. How is that shoulder by the way? Is it giving you anymore pain?"
Darcy winced, not from his shoulder, but from the glare that was thrown his way by Elizabeth, as he replied to the doctor in the negative. "Please, doctor, it should be in my room. I have not moved anything."
The old man entered and Fitzwilliam turned to face Elizabeth, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. Again, he was saved by the doctor, but definitely not pleasantly as the man entered, carrying the white cloth that was once Darcy's sling in one hand, his small leather bag in another.
"Mr. Darcy," he began. "Did I not tell you to use this? The muscles in your shoulder must recuperate! That will not happen if you do not allow them to rest...undisturbed."
This has been a bad day, and getting worse, thought Fitzwilliam. While Elizabeth looked on in anger and concern, the doctor replaced the sling on his patient and left the room with more than one empty threat of amputation.
Elizabeth looked on. She was so angry with the man, and yet so in love. The concern over his well-being was a given, but to fight with his dearest friend, and to disregard the words of a doctor!
"Elizabeth-" he began, but she cut him off with a glare from her blazing eyes.
"Fitzwilliam, what on earth were you thinking?" she asked. "Why did you disregard the doctor?"
"I didn't want you to see me like this," he said, indicating his trapped appendage. "I didn't want you to worry."
She walked to him and slipped her arms around his waist. "Mr. Darcy, of course I worry, but it is your stubborn pride that I worry about. As for your well-being, I love you. Of course I worry...I was there when the wound was initially inflicted, although I did not realize it at the moment. Do you know how terrified I was?"
He kissed her hair and brought his right hand up to stroke her back. "I'm sorry..."
"Ftizwilliam," she said, looking up at him. "I only worry because I love you."
He was truly touched by her words and his lips descended on hers for a short, affectionate, and gentle kiss.
Andrews the butler, outside the door had accidentally heard this entire exchange. Backing away, he headed towards the kitchen where his wife Emily was most tasting and blending the newest spices into the food. Maybe it was time to put some spice into other things, he thought and for the first time, the usually stiff butler whistled as he walked.