The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (24 page)

When the second dance ended, Darcy handed Georgiana to Fitzwilliam and quickly strolled toward Elizabeth, intending to make sure she rested – and did not dance with anyone else, except maybe her uncle. However, before he reached her, he was intercepted by Aunt Alice. “Fitzwilliam,” she said softly but firmly, “you promised me not to be excessively attentive to Miss Bennet – and to dance with other eligible ladies.” While she was speaking, she put a hand to his elbow and guided him over to a young lady who stood waiting with her mother. She was quite pretty, he supposed, with blonde curls and blue eyes. Her dress was quite
au courant
and showed a pleasing figure; however, he knew that only one pair of eyes and dark hair would satisfy him.

“May I introduce Miss Penelope Maddox? Her father is the Earl of Colting,” Aunt Alice said. “Miss Maddox, this is my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Miss Maddox curtsied and Darcy bowed.

Time to pay the piper, he supposed. “Miss Maddox, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

She lowered her eyes demurely and smiled slightly. “Yes, thank you.”

For the next several dances, his aunt kept him well supplied with partners – as if she hoped she could erase her son’s scandal if her nephew made a brilliant match. After a few dances, the women started to blur together: all were fashionably dressed, well spoken, and good dancers who conducted themselves impeccably…and he could not have been more bored. The ball would improve dramatically, he knew, when he could return to Elizabeth.

As he danced with his sixth – or maybe seventh – partner, he realized with alarm that he was failing utterly in his vow to protect Elizabeth from mean-spirited inhabitants of the
ton
. He could not deflect criticism if he was not with her. On the other hand, she might not be the subject of much speculation if he did not converse with her much. One dance – even if it was the first dance – might not be enough to stir gossip and jealousy, but all of him rebelled at the thought of leaving her to fend for herself.

The dance ended and Darcy thanked his partner, although he could not remember anything they had discussed. He saw his aunt bearing down on him, but he preempted her. “I have danced enough for now. I need to rest.”

She regarded him coldly. “I have already selected another lady.” She gestured with her fan to a nearby woman whose profile Darcy recognized all too well.

“Caroline Bingley!” Darcy had not known the woman was at the ball or he would have taken pains to avoid her. Her party must have arrived after the receiving line ended. Darcy rounded on his aunt. “I have had plentiful opportunities to court Miss Bingley if I so desired. Her brother is my friend.”

“I know,” she smiled at him serenely. “Their fortune is in trade, so she’s not the
most
eligible lady here. But her dowry is far better than what
some
women bring to the table.” Darcy knew this was an oblique criticism of Elizabeth and wondered if arranging a dance with Miss Bingley was his aunt’s revenge for his attentions to Elizabeth.
Ah well, best to get it over with….

He approached Miss Bingley. “How good to see you again. May I have the pleasure of this dance?” She acquiesced with a smile which she probably believed appeared sincere.

As he led her into position, he asked, “Is your whole family here?”

She shook her head. “I came with my friends, the Winslows. Charles and Louisa are at home. So you will have to make do with me,” she said with a simpering smile. Darcy clenched his jaw, it would be a long set. It was as torturous as he expected. She agreed with his every opinion and denigrated the Bennets at every opportunity until he finally growled at her to stop.

When the dance was over, Darcy returned Miss Bingley to her friends, and was able to disengage from her attempts at further conversation. Before he could move toward Elizabeth, his aunt swooped in with a calculating gleam in her eye. Darcy relentlessly strode past her, determined not to fall prey to his schemes and this time she let him pass.

He hurried over to where Elizabeth talked with the Gardiners and Georgiana and positioned himself at Elizabeth’s elbow. During a break in the conversation, he asked in a low voice: “How are you feeling? Are you excessively fatigued?” He saw Mr. Gardiner regard him curiously and realized his tone was more suited to the familiar role of husband than the more formal and tentative tone of a suitor.

Elizabeth’s arched eyebrow showed that she also recognized his faux pas. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am quite well. I think it will take more than two dances to fatigue me!” Although her last words were teasing, her tone was formal, making Darcy cringe inwardly at having forgotten himself. The idea of pretending to be a courting couple had seemed simple when they had planned it, but it was much more difficult to execute than he had anticipated. He wanted so much more from her than propriety allowed him.

Mr. Gardiner made an observation about the ball and soon the others were conversing about the impressive size of the crowd. Darcy said nothing, so intoxicated by Elizabeth’s proximity he noticed every move of her hand or tilt of her head. Everything was charming and graceful; he thought he could watch her all night.

He was close enough that he could reach out his hand and touch her back through her gown. Even that limited sensation would be close to heaven, but they were surrounded by guests on all sides who might observe him
. Maybe I could…no, I cannot risk it
. In fact, the logical part of him dictated that he should depart her immediate vicinity, but he could not bring himself to move a muscle.

The Gardiners went to join the dancing and Miss Bingley promptly took their place. Darcy suppressed a groan since Miss Bingley topped the list of people he would like to keep away from Elizabeth. She knew about Lydia and Wickham – and had every reason to wish Elizabeth ill. His protective instincts surged before the woman said anything.

“Dear Georgiana! So pleasant to see you again!” She greeted his sister with such embarrassing effusiveness that Georgiana was immediately uncomfortable and quickly excused herself to greet a friend. Then Miss Bingley turned to Elizabeth, “And my dear Eliza Bennet! What an unexpected pleasure.”

“Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth replied, her tone carefully neutral.

“I want to tell you how sorry I was to hear of your sister’s disgrace! That loss must be felt very keenly. My heart goes out to your entire family.” Her words were warm, but her delivery could not have been falser. Darcy’s ire rose immediately, but before he could say anything, Elizabeth responded.

“Thank you, Miss Bingley, I will take your words in the spirit in which they were intended.” It took Darcy a minute to notice how barbed this response was.

Miss Bingley’s false smile turned sour as she noticed the slight. “I am surprised you do not feel the need to be by your parents’ side at a time like this. Your mother’s nerves must be in a sorry state.”

“I will be departing for Hertfordshire very soon,” Elizabeth said serenely.

“I am sure you miss it very much. I have heard that many country-born ladies become very attached to the lands of their birth. And to be so far away from your family….” Every word she uttered dripped with condescension.

“I do miss Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth said. “But I think I could live anywhere happily if those I loved were with me.” She glanced sidelong at Darcy, and he returned her grin. A quick frown creased Miss Bingley’s features – Elizabeth had scored a hit. Why on earth had he thought he needed to defend his wife from anyone? Georgiana drifted back to the group and appeared to notice the tension between the other two women. Darcy was thankful that she had missed the conversation about Lydia’s scandal; although, he knew he would have to tell her of Wickham eventually.

Miss Bingley was quick to launch another attack. “I have the happy talent for being at home wherever I am. Why I was in Paris five months ago and felt not the least bit of homesickness!”

Elizabeth rose to the challenge. “Yes, Paris is enough to make anyone forget their homesickness. I was there not a fortnight ago.”

“You were in Paris?” Miss Bingley could not conceal her astonishment.

“Yes, I even encountered Mr. Darcy at a ball there. Did he not mention it to you?” Elizabeth radiated so much insincere innocence Darcy was tempted to laugh. “He was such a great help to me in getting out of the country when all the unpleasantness erupted.”

Clearly nonplussed by this information, Miss Bingley murmured, “Mr. Darcy is always a valuable friend.”

“Indeed.”

Darcy enjoyed how well Elizabeth had handled this attack. Now Miss Bingley would wonder
how
he had helped Elizabeth escape France and how closely they had associated. However, she would tell no one; exposing that he had possibly compromised Elizabeth’s reputation would not serve Miss Bingley’s purposes at all.

Finally Miss Bingley said, “I think I will collect some punch. It is a little warm in here.” She glanced at Darcy as if hoping he would beg her to stay, but when he said nothing she quickly melted into the crowd.

Darcy leaned close to Elizabeth and whispered in her ear, “Well played, darling.”

Georgiana was watching Elizabeth with ill-concealed glee. “I hope sometime you can teach me how you do that.” Darcy knew that Georgiana disliked Miss Bingley, but feared her sharp tongue.

“It is not difficult,” Elizabeth explained with a lively twinkle in her eye. “Although it does help if you find the other person very vexing.”

Georgiana and Darcy were still laughing when his aunt arrived, giving Darcy a withering glance for associating with Elizabeth – although he found it hard to care. His aunt had another young lady in tow and Darcy found himself obligated to invite her to dance. Her purpose accomplished, Lady Matlock retreated, undoubtedly in search of fresh women to foist on him.

After a dance with an unobjectionable lady whose biggest flaw was that she was not Elizabeth, Darcy returned to Elizabeth and the Gardiners. He was horrified to see Lord Lennox holding Elizabeth’s hand. Jealousy surged through him. During their travels in France, Lennox had haunted Darcy’s dreams nightly, always swooping in to claim Elizabeth before he had a chance to declare his love for her. In one of his dreams, Elizabeth had stared directly at Darcy and said matter-of-factly, “I have always wanted to marry a lord.”

Darcy tried to master his emotions, telling himself that Lennox was only holding her hand because he was preparing to escort her onto the dance floor. However, the very idea of Lennox dancing with her was itself alarming. How had that happened? Why had he left her unattended even for a second?

He hurried over to the pair. “Miss Bennet, I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I had intended to ask you for this dance.”

To his jealous eye, Elizabeth gazed at him rather coolly, “I am sorry, I have promised this dance to Lord Lennox. But the next dance is available.” Darcy stood rooted to the spot, trying to restrain his urge to wrench her hand from Lennox’s. At that moment, he would have happily thrown Elizabeth over his shoulder and carried her back to Darcy House. It did not help that Lennox gave him a triumphant smirk.

As the two passed him, Elizabeth gave a sudden lurch as if falling, causing Darcy to instinctively reach out to steady her. Her mouth came near his ear and she whispered, “Do not worry. I am not planning to marry him!” An involuntary smile came to Darcy’s lips.

“Sorry,” she said to Darcy in a normal tone of voice. “My slipper caught in my hem. Thank you for your assistance.” Then she put her hand on Lennox’s arm and said lightly: “I promise not to be so clumsy on the dance floor!”

“You could never be less than graceful!” Lennox said gallantly and swept her away.

As he watched them dance, Darcy tried to retain the sense of reassurance her jest had given him, but it was short lived. He could not tear his eyes away from them, instead noticing every laugh and gesture they exchanged. Each time Lennox touched her, Darcy wanted to challenge him to a duel.

While she danced with Lennox, Elizabeth was aware of Darcy’s eyes on her – when she turned in his direction, he was always gazing darkly at her. Knowing the intensity of his affection made her feel very desirable, but she was also vexed with his behavior. She feared that his obvious jealousy would expose her to gossip and bring more scrutiny upon her family, the kind of scrutiny they could ill afford. And she was aware that his aunt had asked him to be discreet about his preference for her. Would Elizabeth now have to face his aunt’s wrath?

Lord Lennox was very complimentary of her dancing and her appearance. At every moment he seemed desirous of her good opinion, but she found it hard to focus on the conversation with him: her thoughts always returned to Darcy.

When the dance ended, Lennox thanked Elizabeth and kissed her hand, but Darcy appeared immediately to claim her for the next dance. Lennox gave an ironic little bow to Darcy before departing.

Darcy took her hand immediately. “I believe this is my dance.”

“William,” she said softly, “I thought your aunt wanted you to avoid showing me too much attention.”

“I do not care what my aunt thinks,” he growled. “I am my own man and want to dance with my wife.”

“Please keep your voice down!” She hissed.