Mr. Darcy's Forbidden Love-kindle (2 page)

He bowed very low now, sweeping his hand across in a grand salute. “I must say I am suitably impressed.” 

In a few moments, the proprietor returned to find them deep in discussion of
The Iliad
, though each held a selection from the new arrivals in hand. As they returned to the main room, Elizabeth asked Mr. Grant to hold the book she wanted until she had the funds to pay for it, and William purchased the book he had found. Having no more excuse to stay and further their acquaintance, they exited the quaint shop.

At once the enchantress began swiftly pushing her hair under her bonnet with great enthusiasm. William could not help but smile at her zeal, though he much preferred it as it was. While watching her work at the task, he noted the moment that she began to study the emblem on the side of his coach—her face taking on a totally different expression.

“Will you be staying in Meryton?” Immediately she shook her head, biting her bottom lip in a gesture that captured him. “I am sorry! It is none of my business. It was impolite of me to ask.”

William answered, ignoring her apology. “I am staying at Netherfield at the invitation of a friend.”

She smiled warmly, recognising the significance. “With Mr. Bingley.”  It was merely a statement, so William did not answer. Looking down at her shoes, she continued a little shyly, “I am invited to Netherfield tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

She glanced up to see his reaction. “Yes, Mr. Bingley has invited the entire neighbourhood to a ball.”

William rolled his eyes, dropped his head and groaned, making his dark-haired pixie chuckle anew. Smiling in spite of himself at her enjoyment of his unease, it suddenly dawned on him that he had completely forgotten his misery while in her company. At that realisation, his dutiful companion, the voice of reason, whispered its usual warning
—be very careful!

He was taking the warning into account, when Elizabeth lifted one brow in a delightful manner. “Surely a gentleman such as yourself has attended many a ball, yet you do not want to attend the one at Netherfield? Is it the local society that offends you?”

William noted the wary look now present in her eyes, and for some reason, felt obligated to reassure her, though he had to admit that he probably would have considered attending a ball in this village beneath him two years earlier.

“That has absolutely nothing to do with it, I assure you. I am simply not fond of the rituals of society, no matter the location. Bingley is aware of that, so he must have conveniently forgotten to tell me about this ball.”

His answer obviously pleased her, and the sprite of the bookshop swiftly returned as she enquired demurely, “Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?”

 He laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head at the remembrance of endless dances he had suffered for the sake of good manners.  “Not if I can help it!”

She seemed taken aback as her eyes widened. “Might I ask why?”

“Because I do not dance unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner.”

The same eyebrow shot up again. “And would I not be considered an acquaintance now that I have helped you select a book?”

William laughed aloud at her cleverness. “You have ensnared me, Miss Bennet. I shall have to ask you for a set.”

Elizabeth began to back away teasingly.  “Oh no, Mr. Darcy! I would not dream of punishing you by having you stand up with me! I shall have my share of partners, so never fear that I shall be slighted by other men!”  

With those words, she disappeared around the corner, and William found himself staring into empty space with a silly grin on his face. Once he realised she was not going to return, his heart sank and he looked about, embarrassed to be smiling at nothing. Catching sight of the bookshop window reminded him of something he had resolved a few moments before and he returned. Slipping inside, he purchased the book that Elizabeth had asked Mr. Grant to hold for her.

~~~*~~~

Netherfield

Lost in his thoughts of the impertinent Miss Bennet, the last leg of his journey to Netherfield took little time, and William was surprised when his coach came to a stop. He glanced out the window to see a footman approaching the door, and as he climbed out of the coach, his first glimpse of the estate did not disappoint.

Charles Bingley was standing on the portico of the impressive grey-stone facade with his arms crossed when he arrived, but was now hurrying down the steps with his hand outstretched.  Bingley had changed little in the years since he had befriended him at Cambridge, perhaps only getting a bit taller. But with his boyish good looks and flaming red hair, he still looked years younger than his five and twenty years as he approached the coach.

“Darcy! My Lord, it is good to see you!” Bingley grabbed his hand and began pumping it, while his other hand squeezed William’s shoulder. “Come in, come in! See what you think of my humble abode.”

William was even more impressed with the inside of the house, though it was still sparsely furnished, as was Charles’ wont with all the estates he rented. He could not fault the man for that—better to find out if you wanted to buy a place before purchasing furniture to fit. After William handed the butler his hat and coat, he turned in a circle, taking in the foyer, the grand staircase and glimpses of other rooms through the open doors. He did not have time to give an opinion, as Charles instantly suggested they go to his study, and once there, they each sank into a comfortably upholstered chair.

“Well, I must say, Charles, that unlike the last manor house you were so eager to buy, this one is striking. And unless I am fooled by my impressions, it seems well maintained. I can only hope the grounds do not disappoint.”

Charles snickered, grinning crookedly. “Oh, yes, that estate. Well, perhaps a certain young lady who lived nearby influenced my delight with the place.”

“Yes,
the angel,
Miss Farnsworth, if I remember correctly,” William teased.

“Precisely! I am so pleased that you advised me to carefully consider that alliance. I was truly not in love with the woman, though I imagined I was at the time.”

“You must learn to guard your heart, Charles. You simply cannot believe you are in love with every woman you meet. If you do, you will be married before you know what has transpired. And you may rely upon my word—an unhappy marriage is something that you will regret for the rest of your life.”

Charles watched William’s face assume the mask that had been his normal mien for the last two years. He hated the fact that the kindest man he had ever known had formed such an unhappy alliance simply to protect his family. 

“I know you speak from experience, Darcy. I can only imagine your pain at being married to someone you despise—feeling that you had no choice. And I know countless others who have married without such noble intentions but are equally as miserable. My own sister married for greed, and I do not wish to end up like Louisa and Bertram—so miserable that they follow me about because they are unhappy when they are alone. Speaking of them, they are upstairs.”

“As long as Caroline is not upstairs, I do not care.”

Charles’ head dropped, and he stared awkwardly at his feet. William challenged, “Tell me she is not here, Charles.”

“I… I did not tell her you were coming, Darcy, but I think Louisa must have, as I received a letter just today telling me she would be here in the morning. Supposedly, she feels she must be the hostess for the ball I am giving tomorrow, even though Louisa is certainly capable. She has handled all the arrangements without any help from Caroline.”

“Can she not leave me in peace? Is it not punishment enough that I am tied to that—” William rubbed his eyes with both hands wearily.  “You would think that after two years your sister would relent.” 

“You know that I love my sister, but I do not condone her actions. Nonetheless, Caroline is a slave to the gossip of the
ton.
  Everyone in your sphere knows that your marriage is a farce. You make it plain by maintaining separate residences. There is even a wager on the books at White’s on just how long it will last.”

At this William’s eyebrows knitted and he growled, “Cannot a man be left in peace? Apparently even men who are supposed to be my friends gossip like old women. And another thing, what is this I hear of a ball? How is it that I was not informed of that either?”

Charles squirmed uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “I was cajoled into giving the ball by some lovely young ladies in the neighbourhood, and it was not settled upon until after you informed me of your visit.  Knowing that if you learned of it you would postpone your trip again, I said nothing. However, if you want to feign illness, I will not insist you attend. I will even make your excuses.”

An image of the pixie of the bookshop came to mind and William smiled unknowingly. “No, I think I shall attend and meet your new neighbours. After all, how am I to judge the estate without judging the neighbours?”

Charles looked stunned, as though he had expected William to decline, and he stuttered a bumbling reply.  “Of… of course! You must meet the neighbours, and this will be a great opportunity. Besides, I was hoping to introduce you to someone that I have met. She is truly an angel, Miss—”

“Charles! What was I just saying about—”

“Bennet.”

William’s heart skipped a beat. “Bennet? You are in love with a Miss Bennet?” William felt his stomach lurch as he pictured Elizabeth. Had her heart already been taken? 

Abruptly, his conscience demanded a part in the conversation.
What is that to you?  After all, you cannot have her or any woman for that matter!

“I think she is the one, Darcy! She is beautiful, funny, kind and not at all like any woman I have met before. She makes me laugh.”

William was reeling but tried not to let his emotions show as he murmured, “No, she is not like them.”

Bingley’s brow furrowed as he overheard the whispered comment. “You know her, Darcy?”

William forced his heart to slow its frantic beat and his voice to steady. “Yes, I met her in Meryton on my way here. She is remarkable, I will give you that.”

“And is she not the most beautiful creature—”

William could endure no more. Standing, he hurried towards the door. “I simply must change my clothes and rest before dinner. Can we not talk more of the object of your admiration later?”

Charles called after him. “Of course. Where are my manners? You must be exhausted.”  As Charles gained the door, he met the housekeeper who had been standing by since William’s arrival. “Mrs. Watkins, please show Mr. Darcy to his room.”

The elderly woman curtsied slightly and hurried to catch up with William who was had stopped on the stairs. “Right this way, please.”

Charles could not see the empty look in William’s eyes as he woodenly followed the woman to his room, nonetheless, he did notice the sudden slump of his friend’s shoulders the minute he thought he was out of sight.

I have never seen Darcy so unhappy. Even his attempts to appear unaffected are unconvincing. I pray his misery does not get the better of him. If only Caroline had not decided to come!

~~~*~~~

Dinner had been torture. Charles had tried to bring up the subject of his Miss Bennet several times, only to be thwarted by his older sister, Louisa, who would quickly change the subject.  As William pondered how little Louisa looked like Charles or Caroline—she was shorter, heavier and had mousey brown hair—he realised that, despite their differences, he liked neither woman.  Louisa did everything she could to forward her sister’s schemes and to keep Charles from assuming his rightful place as head of the family.

Ordinarily, William would have been incensed by Charles’ sister interrupting his every sentence and would have intervened, but tonight he was secretly relieved that he would not have to listen to his friend expound on the merits of the one woman who had touched his heart, the one he had found so enchanting. Mixed emotions duelled in his heart and mind. While he knew that he could never have such a woman, he wondered if he could continue a close friendship with the man fortunate enough to call her his own.

Thus, shortly after dinner, he made his excuses and went to his room as he needed to think about that dilemma. And now, settled in bed for the night, William’s conscience began to challenge him as it always did when he dared so much as to consider any woman.

What are you doing? It is not gentlemanly to trifle with a young woman’s affections and especially not if she is Bingley’s angel.

I only wish to enjoy her company for a short while.

So you say, but would it not be better to limit your conversation to that at the bookshop?

Knowing that he had never won this debate in the past, William rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head and willing his mind to quiet. It appeared that he was going to have another long and sleepless night.

~~~*~~~

Netherfield
The Ball

As anticipated, Caroline Bingley arrived early the next day. Thankfully, William and Charles were out riding the property line when her coach pulled into the drive, and she spent the entire day in her room—first resting and then preparing for the ball. Had she known that nothing she could have devised would have attracted Mr. Darcy’s attention that night or any other, she might have spent a little less time with her preparations—or perhaps not. After all, she was quite vain and still hopeful that Mr. Darcy might one day be back on the marriage market. For, thanks to his close friendship with Charles, she had eavesdropped enough to know that his marriage was not a happy one.

And now as the time approached for the ball, Caroline studied her image in her dressing room mirror, quite pleased with the reflection. Though now four and twenty, she comforted herself with the fact that she was years younger than William’s wife, who was eight years his senior, and felt certain that her age would not be a detriment to becoming the next Mistress of Pemberley. Taking her time placing two large, orange ostrich feathers in her elaborate coiffure, something she refused to leave to a maid, she then smoothed the burnt-orange silk of her gown with her hands, all the while admiring the quality of the material. Quite pleased with herself for having thought to have yards and yards of silk and several feathers dyed that particular colour, she could not help but feel smug. From this night on, she would easily stand out in a sea of mousy women with mousy gowns. Finally, fastening her mother’s pearls around her neck, she was ready to impress not only the wilds of Meryton society, but also the Master of Pemberley with her fashion expertise.  She left her rooms and went in search of her brother.