Mr. Darcy's Promise (10 page)

“What happened a week ago?”

He took Elizabeth’s other hand and stepped even closer. “I met you.”

Elizabeth flushed red and felt the heat in her cheeks. She felt very conscious of his proximity to her. His face was mere inches from hers and his gaze was burrowing deeply into hers. She glanced away and tried to remove her hands from his but he held them close. She looked around the balcony and realized that all the others had left
and she was alone with Mr. Wickham holding her hands! She never appreciated his boldness and never done so less than at this moment! She looked defiantly back at him and firmly said, “I never sought your good opinion, Mr. Wickham. Now if you would please release me, I must go to my family.” She once again tried to remove her hands, but his grip only tightened further.

“Do not push me away, Miss Elizabeth. I thought what I felt for Miss Georgiana was love . . . I thought she was what I wanted in a wife . . . then I met you . . . I thought that perhaps you and I could . . .”

“You thought wrong, Mr. Wickham. Now unhand me or I shall scream for help.”

He knew the timing could be premature but he went in for the kiss. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her lips hard and furiously. He felt her pushing at his chest but he was stronger. Her struggles were in vain, and it almost made him enjoy it even more. He pressed harder and more forcefully in to the kiss and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to prevent her from moving.
Any moment now. Where is Denny?
Elizabeth was squirming so much he had to readjust his grip in order to lean his whole body into the kiss.
Just a minute more.

Elizabeth couldn’t believe what was happening! His hot lips pressed so hard against hers that she couldn’t breathe! She pushed and pulled but to no avail! She squirmed and got one hand free and reached up and started trying to push his face away from hers. When that didn’t work she started hitting him in the shoulder, but he would not stop!
Somebody help! If I do not get some air now, I will pass out!
It was with this thought that her tears started flowing. His mouth let up a little, but only enough to let her gasp for air when she heard the deep timber of Mr. Darcy’s voice rescue her.

“Unhand the lady, Wickham!” Mr. Darcy bellowed. He took three giant steps towards them and gripped the back of Wickham’s coat and yanked hard backwards.

Wickham stumbled a little, but was still holding Elizabeth tightly causing both to nearly fall to the ground. Wickham’s arms let go of Elizabeth in order to catch his own balance and also because he was so shocked at who it wa
s.
Darcy? It was supposed to be Mr. Bennet!
Suddenly fearful that Darcy would hit him, he stepped back a few steps. He quickly surmised that he had better get out of there, and fast. He knew that look in Darcy’s eyes from when they were children together. He would tease Darcy mercilessly until Darcy reached his breaking point and struck him. Now that they were two grown men, he suspected Darcy could now do far more harm. He turned and quickly strode back through the ballroom and left in a very angry stat
e.
Denny, your job was simple! All you had to do was get Mr. Bennet to witness Elizabeth being compromised! Then I would be in the perfect position to negotiate with Darcy on her behalf!

Mr. Darcy saw that his pull on Wickham had nearly made Elizabeth fall as well, and he reached out for her shoulders to steady her. He watched as Wickham rapidly exited the house, leaving Elizabeth shaking and crying. From what he witnessed, Elizabeth had been resisting Wickham’s advances but he couldn’t be sure. With her head still bowed, her shoulders started to shake worse in his hands. Darcy was overcome with concern for her. She had always seemed so strong, confident, and sure-footed. He had never imagined her in this tearful state. There was only one thing he knew to do with a crying lady, and God knew he had plenty of experience with Georgiana. He carefully pulled her into his chest and held her. Her tears continued and he carefully drew her closer. His head rested perfectly on the top of her head, as if it was meant to be there, and he said, “
Shhh, Elizabeth, it is over now. He cannot hurt you. I will never allow it.” He felt her relax a little and take a deep breath but the tears were still flowing. When she didn’t say anything, he continued, "I am so sorry.” He leaned his head into the embrace and smelled her hair and kissed it. It was so soft!

Elizabeth at first was relieved that she was free of Wickham, but then even more embarrassed at being found compromised by none other than Mr. Darcy! Some
part of her heard Wickham leavebefore suddenly she found herself in Mr. Darcy’s strong arms. They were gentle and comforting. So different than being held by Mr. Wickham! She couldn’t help the tears and knew being in the arms of Mr. Darcy should not feel so much like home! Why was he holding her? Shouldn’t he be angry and judging her instea
d?
I am a fallen woman now!
She took a deep breath and realized how good he smelled. What made up that scent? It was spicy, and somewhat woodsy, but at the same time clean-smelling. She also smelled the threatening rain and felt the first few drops on her hair. Or at least she thought it was rain. She took another breath and calmed herself, which suddenly seemed a much easier task since she was still wrapped in Mr. Darcy’s embrace. He whispered gentle soothing words but she didn’t hear them. All she could think about was how good it felt to be held by Mr. Darcy! A part of her laughed inside at the absurdity of such a thought. She lifted her head and was face to face with him. His eyes were so concerned! They spoke volumes of fear and anxiety, yet at the same time were full of tenderness and kindness. She pulled away slightly, and yet he kept his arms around her. He looked in her eyes deeply, with such concern, that her embarrassment resurfaced. He reached his hand to the curls on the side of her face and pushed them to the side and tucked them behind her ear, resting his hand on the side of her head. She took another deep breath and her tears lessened. She was becoming uncomfortable staring at him and letting him touch her so. She resorted to her oft-used habit of letting humor relieve her anxiety and said, “I do believe, Mr. Darcy, that you promised that you would not do that again.” She gave him a weak smile in response to his confusion.

It took Darcy a moment to realize what she meant by the comment, but soon recalled his lack of propriety in the gesture of touching her chocolate curls before the ball had started.
Only Elizabeth would find humor in a situation as this! My dear sweet Elizabeth!
He reached for her again and held her close. Instinctively he caressed her back and kissed the top of her head again. He knew the moment wouldn’t last. In fact, he soon saw a most unwelcome face in the door of the ballroom followed by Mr. and Mrs. Long.

“Kindly unhand my daughter, Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Bennet was not amused at what he saw. His favorite daughter in the arms of Mr. Darcy being kissed and caressed in such a manner! He watched as an
embarrassed Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy separated. Elizabeth sheepishly looked at her hands and Mr. Darcy stood taller and squared his shoulders. Mr. Darcy had just opened his mouth to speak when Mr. Bennet held out his hand to stop him. “Mr. Darcy, from the looks of things, and I saw plenty, I will be expecting a private meeting with you tomorrow morning.” He reached for Elizabeth who looked shocked.

“But Papa . . . it was not . . .”

“Enough!” Mr. Bennet was, for perhaps the first time in his life, less than amused with Elizabeth. He may not have been the most involved and conscientious of fathers, but he had taught his five daughters the rules of proper behavior! Granted the youngest two seemed to have learned less than the older three, but he simply expected more from Elizabeth. “I will hear none of it tonight! You, my dear, have nothing to say to me that will change how I feel about what I just witnessed!”

“Yes, sir.”
Elizabeth immediately stepped forward towards the ballroom at her father’s impatient gesture, and looked up to see the shock and horror on Mrs. Long’s face. With a sinking feeling, she realized the woman had witnessed the whole thing as well.
Oh no! Now all of Meryton will know, for Mrs. Long is a bigger gossip than even my mother!
She glanced back at Mr. Darcy only to see he had turned his back and his head was bowed. She looked away and her tears started forming once again. She suddenly was grateful for her father’s hand pulling her. Her tears, in combination with the darkness of the night, left her nearly blind.

Mr. Bennet’s heart softened upon seeing his daughter’s tears. After all, he reasoned, things could be resolved quite easily, assuming that Darcy was as decent a man as he appeared. Seeing her distress he tried to tease her into a better mood. “Well Lizzy, I do believe this ball ended up being life changing after all!” Surprisingly, or at least to Mr. Bennet, it just seemed to make her tears worse.

M

r. Bennet was sure to demand marriage after what he had witnessed. Mr. Darcy had been up all night contemplating what to do. The dawn was breaking in the east and he hadn’t had a wink of sleep. He had thrown his cravat and waistcoat haphazardly on the floor, and sent his boots after them, hearing them land somewhere by the window. Still his body felt confined and constricted. Sleep was impossible given the turmoil his mind was in. One moment he was furious with Wickham and wanting to call the magistrate, but what crime had been committed? It was a man’s world and all Wickham had done was work to ruin a woman’s reputation. And the woman was not a faceless creature, but his Elizabeth! He chastised himself for not unearthing Wickham’s plan in time
.
I
,
who knew him better than anyone, and yet was still too blind to see his scheme!
Elizabeth’s reputation would be ruined, and Darcy knew that he would be seen to have played a part in it.

And to be seen by Mrs. Long! She most likely would have sworn all her friends to “secrecy” about seeing him and Elizabeth embracing so intimately, effectively making certain everyone knew about it by the noon meal today. Certainly Darcy had no objection to comforting Elizabeth— far from it— nor did he even regret being found doing so. But to have
people assuming a relationship or even expecting an understanding to take place was another matter entirely. Darcy was a private man for the most part. He hated when his personal affairs were written about or gossiped about.

But he could not bring himself to focus on that entirely. Every time he thought of the embrace in his mind, he would relive every touch, making his body react the same way it had then. It had felt so right! Her soft hair on his lips, her small shoulders in his hands, her face nestled in his chest, the way she looked up at him . . .
stop it, man! You are to meet with her father in a few short hours and you still have not figured out what to do! Stop thinking about last night and determine what you are to do today!
He went over the situation again but his mind drifted back to her tearful face and he was stricken with anger once again. Wickham! If only he knew what his original plan was.
Was he just trying to ruin Elizabeth? Why? Did he know my feelings for her? How?
He replayed that awful day at Longbourn where he had spoken with him in front of Elizabeth. What had he said or done that led Wickham to think he had admired Elizabeth? Surely one afternoon was not enough to surmise such feelings were present! He could have no doubt that what Wickham did to Elizabeth was done to injure Darcy. What else could interest Wickham in ruining a woman of little fortune?
Focus, man! What will you tell her father?
It was no use; he needed to be out of this confining room. He rang for his valet. Martin would not appreciate the earliness of the hour, and would regard his state of dress with suspicion, but it didn’t matter. Let him think what he wished. Out of pride he went to the bed and ruffled the bed linens and pillows to make it look as if he had slept in it.
There, now it will look like I fell asleep in my clothes.

A few minutes later his valet knocked. “Enter,” Darcy said. Martin did so and regarded his master with marked displeasure. “I am sorry, Martin. I slept very ill and would like a long ride on Calypso.”

“Yes, sir. Perhaps a shave as well?” Martin had seven years of experience as Mr. Darcy’s valet. Darcy never outwardly stated his concerns or thoughts but by now his face was quite readable to Martin, and he could tell there was something deeply troubling his master. This was even more worrisome, because in the last few weeks he had seen a peace and calmness that hadn’t been there since before Darcy’s father died. That peace was no longer present today. He couldn’t remember a time when he had seen his master so troubled. As he prepared to shave him, he spoke up. “Calypso is good for you when you are troubled, is she not?” Darcy gave him a questioning look. Martin knew he rarely spoke to his master so forwardly. He continued, “Forgive me, it is not my place to ask questions.”

Darcy sighed. “Martin, you are a keen observer. You could be a bow street runner.” It was his way of excusing the comment. Perhaps talking about his distress would help him out. He knew Martin would be discreet. “I do not know what has come over me; my mind will not focus on the task at hand! I am afraid my heart and mind will not be settled easily this morning.”

His heart? Was he speaking of Miss Elizabeth Bennet?
Martin wasn’t a gossip, but had knew all the same that his master was partial to her. He summoned his courage before speaking again. “Yes, the heart is a delicate thing. I have learned, though, that one must listen first with the heart, and then use the mind to create roads of opportunity.”

Roads of opportunity? Darcy would have to think on that a little. “Yes, well, although you are a man of few words, I thank you. I do not know what roads of opportunity could be found in this situation. You may continue with the shave.” It was his way of dismissing the topic. No. This situation was far too delicate to be discussed with his valet.

*****

Mr. Bennet had been listening to Elizabeth try to get him change his mind all morning. He certainly did not want to force her into a marriage. He always wanted her to marry someone she could respect and admire. But he felt her resistance to this marriage was somewhat dramatic. He remembered her blushing brightly when he teased her about Mr. Darcy after she came home from Netherfield which only confirmed that she at minimum, had the buddings of regard for him, if not already loved Mr. Darcy. And to witness Mr. Darcy brush back her curls at the entrance of the Netherfield Ball only confirmed to him that these two had a much more intimate relationship than they let on. He was sure that was the case since he saw them embracing so intimately at the end of the ball. Yes, this would be a love match, even if Elizabeth was unsure of her feelings overall. She was scared, like all young brides were. He would listen no further to her objections to the marriage. After such a display in front of Mrs. Long, her reputation, as well as those of her sisters, would be ruined if she did not marry him. Her objections were simply not valid. Any woman would be nervous, especially when the marriage was hastened, but what else was there to do? Mr. Darcy compromised her, with at least one loose-tongued witness, and therefore there was no other option. Elizabeth would come to understand that it was in her best interest to follow her heart on the matter.

“But Father, you must hear what I have to say!” She didn’t call him “Papa” this time. That kind of endearment was saved for happier times. Elizabeth had spent the morning trying to explain what had happened the night before, but he would not listen. She had never seen him behave so stubbornly. Mr. Darcy would arrive at Longbourn any minute and she was desperate. She tried a different approach and sweetened her voice. “I know it was hard for you to witness what you did. You have taught me good principles and I have learned what you wished to teach. I beg of you, listen to me before you start making decisions that will affect me for the rest of my life!”

He had already made up his mind. Hearing her make excuses was nearly heartbreaking. Mr. Bennet simply could not stop the images of his favorite daughter being held in such a manner and couldn’t stomach
hearing his daughter try to explain herself. He felt frustrated with her pointless efforts but more importantly, he was getting irritated and angry. This marriage was not what he had planned for her either, but it was a very good match. Her protests only made him angrier, as it seemed she was taking no responsibility for her actions. He may have all five daughters at a marriageable age but he expected them to be properly courted and with his permission! That was not how it happened last night. He simply could not bear to hear of other behavior that he may not have witnessed. He knew he should not be so stubborn; he should listen to her very determined pleadings, but this was his daughter after all, his favorite daughter! The images flashed once again through his mind. The only thing to do was to insist upon marriage. It was the only way, and it would be a good match for his dear Lizzy. Whatever she had to tell him was of little consequence; they must marry. He still could not believe his Elizabeth would behave in such a way in public! After listening to her attempt to change his mind for the tenth time that morning, he turned a deaf ear to her pleadings and motioned with his hands for her to leave his study.

She nearly stomped her foot as she left the study. How was she going to stop this incident from snowballing? She turned on her heel and nearly ran right into Mr. Darcy. Hill’s announcement of his arrival must have been drowned out by Elizabeth’s pleadings to her father. She averted her eyes. She could hardly risk looking at him.

“Good morning, Miss Bennet,” he said politely.

So it was “Miss Bennet” now? Last night he used her Christian name while holding her in his arms, but today it was back to the
formality of “Miss Bennet.” Surely after the events of last night they might share some more intimacy than that. She glared at him, and his gaze met hers. His eyes seemed to be searching for something, but he bowed slightly when she did not respond. She turned and left, not giving even the slightest curtsy or nod of the head in acknowledgement of his presence.

“Come in, Mr. Darcy. My daughter is not in the best of moods, I confess, but it is a strange situation indeed. It seems all her manners have been forgotten. Close the door behind you.”

Darcy entered the study and stood there silently. He had been hoping against hope to encounter Elizabeth before the meeting with her father. He was hoping for some kind of indication of what Elizabeth felt about all this and what it entailed. She had to have known that they would be expected to marry. Was their union acceptable in her eyes? Did she still have feelings for Wickham? He flinched at the thought.

Last night his attention had been divided between Georgiana, Elizabeth, and
Wickham, and it had nearly exhausted him. He had missed the disappearance of Wickham at first, and it was some time before he noticed that both Elizabeth and Wickham were gone. He had never dreamed that he would find them kissing.

His first reaction had been nausea, then anger, then fear. The nausea was because his greatest enemy was kissing the woman he loved. The anger came when he realized it was Darcy’s fault: he had known Wickham’s nature, but had not openly exposed him. His warnings to Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet had been too cryptic, too vague. Was there more he should have done? The fear followed at the memory of Elizabeth’s words: “Perhaps then I would not have to choose between a man with selfish disdain for others and a man who is charming and handsome.” Was this Elizabeth making her choice right in front of his eyes? When he relived the scene, it seemed like Wickham’s advances were unwanted. But did Elizabeth regret them wholly? Her heated look gave him no hope from her regarding a positive preference towards marriage. If anything, she was angry and did not want to be forced to marry him. Darcy cleared his throat and resisted the strong urge to vomit.

“Well, Mr. Darcy? Are you going to stand there and look ill? Or can I offer you some brandy?” It was before noon, but Mr. Bennet thought the situation called for a bit of brandy. Arranging the marriage of your favorite daughter when she does not wish it took a little courage.

Darcy knew his nauseous stomach was just nerves, but he also knew alcohol would not be helpful.
“No, thank you, sir.”

“Well, then, sit down.” Mr. Bennet poured himself two fingers of brandy and swirled it in his glass. He didn’t quite know Mr. Darcy’s intent, but he was here and that was a start. Mr. Bennet began innocuously, with a few questions about his estate in Derbyshire. He then probed about his views on the Corn Laws, and asked about the health of his parents and learned that both were deceased. He had begun to ask about his education when Darcy finally interrupted him.

“Sir, I doubt you truly care about my views on the Corn Laws. Perhaps we should both address the matter at hand?” Darcy was nervous. He had never asked for a lady’s hand in marriage before. In fact, he had never even wanted it before meeting Elizabeth. Should he have paid Mr. Bennet more respect?

A frown came slowly to Mr. Bennet’s face. He didn’t want to insist his favorite daughter marry without fully knowing the man, in spite of all that had happened. All he knew about him was what his family had gossiped about. Mrs. Bennet said he earned ten thousand a year. Lydia thought him boring. Jane had stood up for him several times claiming that Bingley liked him “so he must be good.” And he had heard too many times to count how Mr. Darcy scorned Elizabeth at the Meryton Assembly by saying how she wasn’t “handsome enough to tempt” him. It was obvious after the display last night that she must tempt him a little! He opened his mouth to speak, but then took a sip of the brandy instead. After the burning in his throat subsided, he said, “It was quite the scandal last night when right in front of Mr. and Mrs. Long that Denny officer came and told me Elizabeth was kissing a man in the most provocative way out on the balcony. If I recall it rightly, Mr. Denny’s exact words were, ‘Come Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth has been compromised! She is kissing a man in such a way that you must stop her! Make haste!’” He gauged Mr. Darcy’s reaction carefully. Did he feel remorse? Was he proud of
his actions? From what he could tell Darcy’s lips tightened, his shoulders squared, and he seemed to grow taller in his chair. It wasn’t remorse he was witnessing and it wasn’t pride. Anger? Why would Mr. Darcy be angry?