Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 3 (23 page)

Mr Darcy was glad to reach Brussels, where his aunt, Lady Fitzwilliam, had hired a splendid residence. As a countess, his aunt was used to the best in life, and the house had a good address, with an extensive frontage. It was an impressive size.

He and Georgiana were warmly greeted by Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam, together with three of their children. Lady Susan was the oldest at twenty-one and she was about to become engaged. Lady Clara was seventeen and Lady Anna was sixteen. They were all dressed in the latest styles and their European clothes were very
chic
.

Lady Clara and Lady Anna fussed over Georgiana, removing her bonnet and laughing over her dress, which they said would not do for Brussels.

‘It has a straight skirt!’ said Lady Clara. ‘Mama, you must tell Madame duPont to make Georgiana a new wardrobe immediately. She must have flared skirts, and she must have frills around the hem, as we have.’

‘Georgiana is too young to be thinking of fashions,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘I disagree,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam. ‘She is old enough to be taking an interest. The girls are right. A visit to the modiste is called for. We will go tomorrow morning.’

‘I can see I am outnumbered,’ said Mr Darcy looking at the five women in front of him. ‘I believe I will have to concede. But I want to take Georgiana riding first, before you spirit her away. She has not had any exercise since we started our journey.’

‘Oh, yes, I do so love to ride,’ said Georgiana. ‘My brother has told me there are some beautiful rides hereabouts and I am looking forward to experiencing them.’

‘Very well. You must ride early, for your habit will not be in the latest style, and you would not wish to be seen in an outmoded costume. But as long as you set out in good time there can be no harm in it.’

She led the way into the drawing-room. They all settled themselves down on the splendid gilded sofas, which were covered in elegant tapestries. Then she rang for tea.

‘Now you must tell me about your journey. I am longing to hear all about it,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam.

Georgiana told her aunt all about it and Mr Darcy added things where necessary.

But the most important part of the journey – his sight of Elizabeth – was something he kept to himself.

Three days later, Mrs Gardiner and her family arrived in Brussels. The journey from Ostend had taken some days, for they had travelled at a leisurely pace in order to see something of the countryside. They were given a warm welcome by Mrs Gardiner’s friend, who was an elegant woman by the name of Mrs Stacey. Mrs Stacey said how pleased she was to see them and then said she would let them rest before they joined her and her husband for dinner. Mrs Gardiners’ party were glad of a chance to relax before going downstairs.

The house was beautiful, and far more grand than anything Elizabeth and Jane were used to. Their own house of Longbourn was a pleasant country house, a gentleman’s residence, but it was homely rather than grand. Elizabeth and Jane were to share a bedroom on the second floor as the first floor was taken up with the ballroom and drawing-room. The housekeeper conducted them to the room and both young ladies were delighted with it.

The windows looked on to a square which was surrounded by similar buildings. They all had intricate architecture and a quaint foreign look which Elizabeth found lovely. The windows let in plenty of light and the sun fell in stripes across the two large beds and the dressing table. In the less sunny part of the room there was a large wardrobe and the two young ladies were soon hanging up their clothes, for the Bennets had only one helper between them – their Longbourn housekeeper, Hill - and she was helping Mrs Bennet.

The group met again at dinner. Mr Stacey was introduced. He was one of the officers who saw to the provisioning of the army and he was very busy. He welcomed them cordially but he said little throughout dinner as he was clearly pre-occupied and then he went out again.

‘You must forgive my husband,’ said Mrs Stacey. ‘Ever since Napoleon marched on Paris he has been very busy and he does not have much time to be sociable. But now let us talk about pleasanter things. I mean to show you this beautiful city and I would like to begin by taking you to the
Allée Verte
tomorrow morning. It is a country lane by the canal and it is where the important people go to ride their horses and promenade. It is well worth seeing.’

‘I should like that,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

‘Oh! I would like it above all things if all the important people go there,’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘I am sure my girls are good enough for anywhere. Jane cannot be so beautiful for nothing, though Mr Bingley has sadly let us down.’

Elizabeth’s spirits plummeted at this silly speech from her mother, but Mrs Gardiner rescued the situation by diverting Mrs Bennet’s thoughts to the matter of Lydia.

‘I am sure she will like to know we have reached Brussels. Perhaps you could write to her,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

‘The very thing!’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘I will write to her directly. We can meet her tomorrow morning.’

Mrs Stacey looked at Mrs Gardiner enquiringly and Mrs Gardiner explained that the youngest Miss Bennet was staying with military friends.

‘I am sure you are eager to see her again,’ said Mrs Stacey. ‘The
Allée Verte
is well worth visiting and I am sure she will like it.’

They had all finished their meal by this time and so they went through into the drawing-room. Mrs Bennet wrote Lydia a short note, asking to see her, and Mrs Stacey sent the footman to deliver it. He was told to wait for a reply and he soon returned. The note from Lydia was wild and incoherent, with a great many mentions of balls and officers, and there was a note for Kitty enclosed, which was full of crossings out and underlinings. But it was clear that Lydia was looking forward to meeting them and that she, together with Mrs Forster and a footman for a chaperon, would be in the
Allée Verte
at nine o’clock the following morning.

Mr Darcy took his sister riding in the
Allée Verte
. They rode on two splendid mounts that Lady Fitzwilliam lent them, with Mr Darcy riding a stallion and Georgiana riding a white mare. Georgiana had borrowed a riding habit from Lady Clara, who was much the same size as her, and she intended to wear it until her own habit was ready. She looked very lovely, for it was dark blue and it brought out the colour of her eyes. It was decorated with gold braid which mimicked the braiding on the military uniforms all around them, for the military look had invaded every area of fashion. There were epaulettes and gold buttons on coats, and there were military-style hats which replaced the more familiar bonnets.

The whole family was riding this morning. Lady Fitzwilliam and her daughters had accompanied Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy. Even Colonel Fitzwilliam had been free to join them. They cantered to the end of the pretty leafy lane and then turned back, preparing to canter back again, when Mr Darcy froze in the saddle, for there, walking towards him, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She was not with Mr Wickham. That was the first thing he saw. The second thing he saw was that she was with her mother and her four sisters, together with two middle-aged women he did not know and a middle-aged gentleman. The middle-aged people looked to be people of fashion and he thought how well they looked next to Elizabeth.

She was looking very becoming in an amber coloured spencer over a white muslin gown, with a straw bonnet. Her clothes were not in the European fashion but he liked them very well. They suited her dark hair, clear complexion and her lithe figure.

There were several officers with the party as well. He recognised one of them as Colonel Forster, who had belonged to the Meryton militia. By his uniform, he had now joined the regular army. On Colonel Forster’s arm was his wife, Mrs Forster. Mr Darcy remembered that Miss Lydia Bennet had been a particular friend of Mrs Forster, and so he understood why the two ladies were together. They were talking in an animated fashion. Lydia was her usual exuberant self, waving her arms about as she talked.

Mr Darcy was disheartened, for he knew he could not avoid a meeting. But there would be no need to do anything beyond touching his hat and wishing them, ‘Good day.’

The two parties drew closer until they were almost level with each other.

Mr Darcy saw a flush spring to Elizabeth’s cheek. He could not help thinking how well it made her look. He said a polite, ‘Good day,’ and he was just riding on when suddenly a bird flew up in front of Georgiana’s mare. The animal took fright and reared. Mr Darcy’s heart stopped. He saw his sister struggle to keep a hold but she had been taken by surprise and he feared she would be thrown. But then Lydia Bennet’s arm, which had been flailing around as she talked, happened to catch hold of the bridle at the perfect moment and it was just enough to allow Georgiana to regain control of her mare and calm the frightened animal.

It was all over in a matter of seconds, but it had been a frightening few seconds for all concerned.

‘How very fortunate,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam in a heartfelt manner.

It was clear from her voice that she had been just as worried as Mr Darcy. They all loved Georgiana, who was a favourite with the whole family.

‘We owe you a debt of gratitude,’ she said to Lydia.

Lydia was less noisy than usual for a moment. She had been as startled as the rest of them and she said politely, ‘It was nothing.’

‘I beg your pardon, but it was definitely something,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam. She turned to Mr Darcy and said, ‘Will you not introduce me to your friends?’

She had taken them for friends because Mr Darcy had greeted them and now Mr Darcy had no choice but to introduce them.

Lady Fitzwilliam was very gracious towards them. Then she said, ‘I am holding a ball next week. I would be very glad if you would all attend. There will be dancing for the young people who are not yet out in one of the downstairs rooms, as well as the ball for adults, so no one need be left out. I will send a footman with invitations as soon as we return home. Where are you residing?’

Mrs Bennet was so dazzled by the thought of a countess inviting her and her daughters to a ball that, for once, she was speechless. But Mrs Gardiner sensibly gave the address.

‘Then we will look forward to seeing you,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam.

The gentlemen bowed, the ladies curtseyed, and the two parties went their separate ways.

Mr Darcy felt a range of conflicting emotions churning within his breast. He longed to see Elizabeth again, but he could not bear it if she was the wife of George Wickham.

But was she?

‘You are very quiet, Darcy,’ said Lady Fitzwilliam as they turned for home.

‘I have had a shock,’ he said.

Lady Fitzwilliam nodded gravely.

‘Yes, it was a nasty moment. It shocked us all.’

But Mr Darcy was not thinking of the shock of his sister’s near accident. That had been terrible, but he had recovered from the horrible feeling once she was safe.

No, this shock was something else. For Elizabeth had blushed and looked down at the ground when his aunt had invited the Bennets to the ball. But before her beautiful eyes had been hidden from view, they had looked at him with such longing that it had scorched his soul.

What does it mean?

But no matter how many times he asked himself that question, he could not find an answer.

Once Mrs Bennet had recovered from the shock of being invited to Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball she could talk of nothing else. Even the Gardiners and the Staceys were excited, although they expressed themselves more moderately. Lady Fitzwilliam was a great lady and her balls were renowned for being full of the most influential people.

It was necessary that the ladies should have new gowns for the ball and Mrs Stacey recommended her own dressmaker. To begin with, the dressmaker declared she was too busy, but once she knew that the gowns were to be worn at Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball she said she would be honoured to dress the ladies.

The day after receiving their invitations, therefore, the ladies all set out for the dressmaker’s shop, with Lydia making one of the party. ‘For you have me to thank for the invitation,’ she said.

‘How true, Lydia!’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘I have always said you are clever and indeed you have exceeded my expectations, for you have arranged for us all to attend one of the most talked-about events in Brussels!’

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged glances but they knew better than to protest, for Mrs Bennet could not be made to see reason. Lydia did not arrange it, and it was only a lucky chance that had made it possible, but Mrs Bennet continued to praise Lydia, quite as if she had done something intentional.

Elizabeth was interested in all the styles and fabrics they viewed in the dressmaker’s workroom, but she could not keep her mind on her clothes, for she kept thinking about Mr Darcy. When he had been introduced to Mr and Mrs Gardiner he had evidently been surprised to find they were her aunt and uncle, for it was clear he had taken them for people of fashion. Not people of the latest fashion, it was true, for everyone who arrived in Brussels looked sadly out of date until they had visited the dressmaker or tailor, but still he had been impressed with them. Elizabeth hugged herself to think that she had some relations she did not have to be ashamed of.

‘And what would you like?’ the dressmaker asked Mary, once she had attended to the other ladies.

‘Oh, it does not signify what Mary wears,’ said Mrs Bennet.

She had not seen Mary on the ship, when she had looked so much prettier as she spoke to Mr Manningham, because she had spent the voyage in her cabin.

She had not seen Mr Manningham when he had called on them in Brussels to ask if the ladies had recovered from their journey, because she had risen late that morning.

‘Of course it does,’ said Elizabeth, going over to Mary’s side. ‘Which fabrics do you like, Mary?’

Mary gave her a grateful glance and, for once, Elizabeth felt a sense of kinship with her sister. Perhaps she had been too hasty in dismissing Mary as dull and prosy. Perhaps Mary, given the chance, could be a happy young lady. Indeed, Elizabeth was beginning to think she could be quite pretty, for if she wore her hair in a different style it would make a big difference to her appearance.

Mary had been gazing fondly at a rose pink silk but Mrs Bennet said, ‘I think something in brown would suit Mary very well.’

Poor Mary’s face fell.

‘Brown has never suited Mary,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I think the rose silk would look well on her.’

Mary gave Elizabeth another grateful glance.

‘Nonsense!’ said Mrs Bennet. ‘Mary has never liked pink.’

‘I agree with Elizabeth,’ said Jane. ‘I think Mary should have the pink.’

‘You are all against me,’ said Mrs Bennet peevishly. ‘It makes no matter what Mary wears, she looks ill in everything, but if you are determined for her to have the pink, then let her have it.’

This ungracious speech made Elizabeth blush for her mother. However, she and Jane helped Mary to pick out a flattering style of gown with a round neck, high waist and short, puffed sleeves and the dressmaker promised to have it ready in time.

‘It is impossible, usually, to make so many gowns so quickly,’ said the dressmaker. ‘But I for Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball I will hire extra seamstresses and I will have them ready in time. I ask only that you tell everyone where your gowns came from.’

The ladies promised and then they departed, well satisfied with their morning’s expedition.

‘It reminds me of dressing for the Netherfield ball,’ said Jane, a week later, when they were preparing for Lady Fitzwilliam’s ball.

She bit her lip as soon as she had said it and Elizabeth knew why. Jane was remembering everything that had happened at that ball. Jane had danced with Mr Bingley several times and had spent the rest of the evening in conversation with him. Indeed, Mr Bingley had had eyes for no one else. By the end of the evening, Jane had been deeply in love with Mr Bingley and it had seemed as if he was in love with her, too. But then he had left Meryton suddenly, never to return.

Elizabeth gave her sister a hug.

‘If he does not find you again then he does not deserve you,’ she said.

‘I know,’ said Jane. ‘But, oh, Lizzy, I do miss him. He is my idea of what a young man should be.’

‘I know Jane – dearest Jane,’ said Elizabeth.

She wondered whether she ought to reveal Mr Darcy’s part in the affair but she did not want to cause her sister more pain and so she said nothing.

‘But I must not feel sorry for myself,’ said Jane. ‘And now we had better finish dressing, for we do not want to be late.’

Across town, Mr Darcy, too, was dressing for the ball. He had already donned his white frilled shirt, waistcoat and breeches. Now he was tying his cravat and fastening it with a diamond tie pin. He shook out the frills at his cuffs and put his signet ring onto his little finger, then his valet helped him on with his tailcoat. He combed his dark hair, which framed his face, and then he was ready to go down.

Georgiana was already in the drawing-room, wearing a demure white silk gown. She was to join the other young people who were not yet old enough to be out, but who nevertheless needed to learn how to behave at balls and who were therefore to have their own ball downstairs. Her companion was with her, and the other young people’s companions would watch over them for the evening.

‘You look charming,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘Thank you,’ said Georgiana.

Lady Fitzwilliam swept into the room in a magnificent emerald green gown. She wore emeralds at her throat and in her ears, so that, with her red hair, she was a magnificent sight.

‘Georgiana, my dear. I want you to welcome the younger guests with Lady Clara and Lady Anna.’

‘Yes, Aunt,’ said Georgiana.

She went downstairs with her companion.

‘And Darcy, I rely on you to help me make my guests feel welcome. These are difficult times. War is brewing and it is our duty to keep up morale. I require you to dance every dance.’

‘Very well,’ said Mr Darcy.

‘I hear a carriage. Our guests are arriving,’ she said. ‘Your uncle and I will receive them. Then you and your cousins must attend to them in the ballroom.’

Mr Darcy made her a bow and went through into the splendid ballroom. He knew his duty and he meant to do it.

And the one thing he wanted to do above all others was dance with Elizabeth Bennet.

An hour later, the ballroom was filling up. The Bennet party had arrived but Mr Darcy had been kept busy entertaining his aunt’s guests and he had not been able to dance with Elizabeth. She had had plenty of partners and he was not surprised. She was looking particularly charming in a lemon silk gown which flared at the hem and was ornamented with flowers. She wore matching flowers in her hair. They set off her lightly tanned complexion and beautiful eyes, making them dance.

‘Mr Darcy. We meet again,’ came a voice at his side.

It was Colonel Forster. The two men had met in Meryton and Mr Darcy had dined with Colonel Forster on several occasions. They bowed and exchanged greetings and then they talked of their acquaintance in Meryton.

Mr Darcy wanted to ask about Elizabeth and find out how soon after she returned from Rosings Park she had married Mr Wickham – if she had married him.

Did I drive her into his arms or did I not?
he asked himself.

He could not ask about Elizabeth but he could ask about Mr Wickham.

‘I heat Mr Wickham is married,’ he said. ‘When did the wedding take place?’

Colonel Forster looked surprised.

‘Is he married? I did not know that.’

Mr Darcy felt his hopes rise. But he had to be sure.

‘He and Miss Elizabeth Bennet . . .’ he began.

‘You have been misinformed,’ said Colonel Forster. ‘Miss Elizabeth is still Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’

‘Ah.’

Mr Darcy made his voice sound casual but inside he was rejoicing.

He had not driven her into Wickham’s arms! She had not married the scoundrel!

But then he sobered. She might not have married him, but she had been allowing his embrace.

He frowned. It did not make sense. Elizabeth was a well brought up young lady. Why would she allow such a thing? Was she in love with him or was there some other explanation? He had to find out.

The dance came to an end and he saw Elizabeth return to her aunt and uncle. Seizing the moment he crossed the crowded ballroom and asked for her hand.

She blushed, and he knew that she was remembering the time when he had asked for her hand before: not as a dancing partner, but as a wife.

There was an awkward moment. Then she collected herself and inclined her head.

He felt a wave of relief. For one awful moment he had thought she might refuse to dance with him, even though it would have been the height of bad manners. But he could hardly have criticised her, for he himself had committed a similar breach of etiquette when they first met by refusing to ask her to dance.

But Elizabeth was better than he was. She had not lost her manners. She had accepted his hand.

They made their way out on to the floor. They took their places facing each other, in a long line of couples, and the musicians played the opening chords. He bowed and she curtseyed. Then the dance began.

To begin with, they danced in silence. He did not know how to break it. He made some slight observation on the dance. She did not reply. He did not know how to make her speak to him. Then he remembered their conversation at the Netherfield ball and he said, ‘It is your turn to say something now, Miss Elizabeth.’

It was clear she remembered that evening, too, for she replied mischievously, ‘Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?’

‘Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know.’

She nodded in agreement, but her sparkling eyes showed she recognised the conversation and delighted in the humour of hearing it the other way around.

The steps of the dance parted them and then they came together again.

‘You are looking at me very closely, Mr Darcy,’ she said.

‘Am I? Yes, perhaps I am. I am trying to make you out.’

‘In what way?’ she asked.

‘I cannot understand you,’ he said. ‘When I saw you on the ship with Mr Wickham—’

Her face, which had been alight with laughter as she heard him repeat her words from the Netherfield ball, now clouded.

He cursed himself inwardly but the words had popped out before he could help himself and now they had gone beyond recall. He waited with bated breath for what she was going to say. He did not hear the music. He did not see the other dancers. He heard and saw only Elizabeth. He felt as though, on her next words, his whole future depended.

‘Ah, yes. It was a most unfortunate stumble,’ she said. ‘The ship was pitching and I could not help myself.’

‘Ah!’

He felt a huge rush of relief. So she had not been welcoming, or even allowing, Mr Wickham’s advances.

Mr Darcy could now afford to laugh at himself, even if the laughter was rueful. He had been so blinded by jealousy that he had not thought of the most obvious explanation for what he had seen, and now he was ashamed of what his thoughts had been.

‘I would never welcome the attentions of a man who had caused so much pain,’ she said in a low voice.

He felt jubilation rising in his breast. So she was not in love with George Wickham! She did not like the man! But just as he was congratulating himself, the full purport of her words began to sink in. Did she mean she would not welcome Mr Wickham’s attentions – or did she mean that she would not welcome Mr Darcy’s attentions, since he had cause her sister so much pain?

The dance ended at that precise moment and he was forced to relinquish her to her next partner.

He was left to contemplate her enigmatical words, and to be ashamed of the pain his behaviour towards Miss Jane Bennet had caused.

The last time the subject had arisen he had made excuses for himself. But now he made no more excuses. He had caused two young people a lot of pain, for Mr Bingley had not been his usual self lately and Mr Darcy trusted Elizabeth’s opinion of her sister.

Then, as he had caused the pain, he must be the one to ease it.

He must put matters to rights.