The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (25 page)

The music started and they moved somewhat stiffly into to position. Elizabeth enjoyed this dance with Darcy less than the previous one. Although she still experienced a tingle wherever he touched her, she could tell his jealousy was getting the better of him. Perhaps this was the inevitable result of their constant need to avoid touching or otherwise betraying their affection. It was difficult to pretend to be almost strangers when she knew him so intimately.

As they danced, his hand lingered longer on her waist than it should and he held her hand in a way that was not quite proper. She noticed these moments time and again and was certain that anyone observing them would as well. Since Darcy had favored her with a second dance she would already be the subject of speculation. If only Darcy would be more discreet! She had no desire to make enemies among those guests who had hopes of him, since her family’s situation would already cause everyone to see her as a fortune hunter. They would gossip about her family and that would inevitably trigger talk about Lydia and Wickham.
Oh, I never should have come!
She thought miserably
.

She greeted the end of the set with relief and relaxed instantly when Darcy escorted her from the dance floor. He did not relinquish her hand immediately, but instead said, “I think perhaps you should forgo dancing for the remainder of the evening. I would never forgive myself if you experienced a set-back in your recovery.” There was a sizeable crowd in their path, so they stopped where they were rather than return to her aunt and uncle.

“I thank you for your solicitude,” she returned, finally removing her hand from his. “But I feel perfectly well. And I very much enjoy dancing.”

Darcy leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “That is enough. I do not want you to fall ill again.” She stepped backward so he needed to speak aloud once more. “I am certain your doctor would not want you to be out at such a late hour, let alone engaging in vigorous activity,” he continued forcefully.

Elizabeth felt anger building inside her. She was well aware of the true reason he wished her to quit the dance floor, but knew she had done nothing to spark his jealousy; it was difficult not to resent these high-handed attempts to control her. If he wanted a meek and obedient wife, he had married the wrong woman!

Curious glances were turned in their direction; her anxiety grew as she considered how they were drawing attention to themselves. “Unless my doctor is here personally, I will have to depend upon my own judgment. Thank you for your concern,” she said coldly. Then she turned and stalked away to the room where they were serving beverages.

Darcy wanted to follow Elizabeth, but was aware of the eyes on him. Their conversation had been soft and brief, so he doubted that anyone nearby knew its substance, but he had no doubt the tension between them had been obvious to bystanders. He schooled his expression into one of indifference and told himself he could follow her in a few minutes when it would be less noticeable.

Casting about for a distraction, Darcy’s eyes found Fitzwilliam, who came over immediately. “Is there a problem? Your face has that dark look again.”

Darcy tried to make light of it. “Nothing of import. You know how Eliz—Miss Bennet and I are always sparring.”

“I see,” Fitzwilliam’s tone was carefully neutral. “Was she chastising you on your lack of manners again?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Darcy said stiffly. Fitzwilliam’s face was skeptical and Darcy recalled that his cousin was better at reading him than anyone else he knew. Sometimes that was an asset; however, at the moment it was a definite disadvantage. He had no desire to stay and undergo his cousin’s inquisition. “I do believe I will avail myself of some of your parents’ excellent punch,” he said and strode away.

However, when Darcy arrived in the punch room, Elizabeth was not there. He returned scanned the ballroom, but did not espy her. However, there were more than one hundred revelers; she could be buried in the crowd. Then Darcy noticed a door near the punch table that led to the terrace – following his instincts, he opened it and walked through. He did not notice Fitzwilliam follow him a moment later.

The terrace was quite large, running along one entire side of the house. The staff had set up a few torches outside, but it was not enough to illuminate the whole expanse, so much of the terrace was in shadows. Darcy scanned the area, noting a few other couples and clusters of partygoers cooling off and chatting in the relative quiet of the outside. Then, far down at one end he could barely make out a solitary woman’s figure. As he drew closer, he knew it was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gazed into the darkness surrounding Matlock House, still seething with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. While part of her knew that jealousy was a common reaction for many men, she also knew that most married men at the ball were content to let their wives dance with other men. Why did Darcy have to treat her like his chattel? Was this a harbinger of future difficulties? That thought chilled her more than anything else.

Then Darcy’s figure loomed out of the darkness. His expression was unreadable to her; she could not ascertain if he was contrite or angry. “My love, I am sorry I let my jealousy get in the way of my better judgment. Can we put this unpleasantness behind us?” Now there was pain on his face.

He reached to put his arms around her and lean in for a kiss, but she pushed him away. She could smell the wine on his breath and suspected he had drunk more than usual as a means of enduring a trying night. “No we cannot!” She exclaimed with some heat. “It is not that simple to forget. I watched you dance with seven other women – all of them more elegant and wealthier than I, but I said nothing.”

“That bothered you?” Darcy asked, sounding surprised.
Does he think that only he suffers from jealousy?
She thought furiously. He even sounded a little pleased, which enraged her further. Again he tried to embrace her, but she turned away so her back was to him.

“Naturally it did!” Elizabeth stopped and swallowed, trying to modulate her tone. “But I know those women meant nothing to you. I know that you are not contemplating marrying them. And you know the same about me! I only danced with two other men all night and yet you do not trust me! Is this how it will be for the rest of our lives?”

This last question seemed to strike him forcefully, causing him to stop and consider his answer. “No, of course not. You are not my – my – possession!” Darcy put his hands on her shoulders to turn her in his direction, but Elizabeth stepped backward, breaking his hold on her.

“Then stop trying to grab me like I am something that belongs to you.” Darcy instantly dropped his arms. “I am guarded like some precious jewel – instead of being seen as a living, thinking woman. Why do you act so?”

As Darcy’s anger appeared to ebb. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes so he could think. “I should ask myself the same question. I do trust you, but….I suppose I am still insecure of your love for me.”

“Why?” Elizabeth was genuinely shocked.

“Because it is so new. Because I have spent so much time convinced of your indifference.” Darcy struggled to articulate thoughts that he recognized only now. “I have a difficult time believing that this is real, that it will last. You held such a bad opinion of me for so long; I fear you will change your mind again. Such doubts result in behavior that confirms your bad opinion. I am so sorry.”

“Oh, William…” His admission of insecurity did more to quell her anger than all of his fury had. She was now heartily ashamed of her display of temper.
I should have understood what was underlying his behavior.
And, she realized, her angry rejection of him in the ballroom had exposed both of them to possible repercussions.
What if someone guesses the truth?
At least this end of the terrace was deserted, she reassured herself; no one could have overheard their conversation.

“I am sorry too,” she said softly. “I should have understood why you reacted as you did. This is a difficult situation. It is taking its toll on both of us.”

“Yes,” his voice was hoarse. “I never imagined how hard it would be to be away from you – or to be near you and not permitted to touch—“

“You can touch me now. There is nobody who will see,” she suggested impishly.

“You minx!” He chuckled. “Does this mean our argument is over?”

She nodded slowly and seductively, causing Darcy to pull her to him roughly. Instantly he was raining kisses on her lips, her neck, her shoulders. Every touch, every kiss felt like it left a trail of fire on her skin. Then his hands rose to explore her back, caressing her curves and pulling her more tightly against him. She moaned as he moved one hand to cup her breast.

Darcy was wondering what could be accomplished if he pulled her deeper into the shadows or even into the bushes when they heard voices approaching. As he reluctantly pulled away from Elizabeth, she turned away to straighten her clothing. Meanwhile, he stepped up to the terrace’s railing as if he were simply enjoying the night air – knowing that merely being alone with Elizabeth would be enough to compromise her in some eyes.

He was relieved to see that the approaching figures were Fitzwilliam and an army friend of his, Lieutenant Preston. He knew Fitzwilliam would never reveal any possible improprieties or start rumors. The two men were talking rather loudly and laughing; Darcy wondered how much they had had to drink. “Hello, gentlemen!” He greeted them as they approached.

“So this is where you went,” Fitzwilliam exclaimed, scrutinizing him rather sharply. “My mother was searching for you.”

Darcy realized that he had been away from the ballroom longer than he had intended. His very absence could cause rumors, especially if people realized that Elizabeth was missing as well. He had taken such care to protect her reputation; he could not give rise to speculation now.

“Hello, Miss Bennet,” Fitzwilliam said when Elizabeth emerged from the shadows. “Lovely night isn’t it?” He did not seem at all surprised to find her here. Well, he might have suspected, knowing of Darcy’s interest in her. Darcy hoped that nothing about Elizabeth’s appearance revealed their activities.

“Yes, neither too hot nor too cold,” Elizabeth replied blandly. “An ideal night for a ball.” Her face did show a slight blush of embarrassment.

Fitzwilliam eyed Darcy again. “You really should be getting back into the ballroom. My mother will be livid. And will send servants seeking you out.” Darcy noted the unspoken warning in his cousin’s words. “We can escort Miss Bennet back when she is has finished enjoying the night air.” Darcy was about to protest when he realized that his cousin was giving him an opportunity to belie any suspicions of a dalliance with Elizabeth. If she returned in the company of two soldiers, no one would suspect she had had a rendezvous with Darcy.

He bowed to the inevitable. “Yes, I should go. Miss Bennet. Gentlemen.” He bowed to each in turn and left. But every step that took him farther from Elizabeth tugged at his heart.

The next morning Darcy was working in his study. The prolonged sojourn in France had left him sadly behind on his work for his estate. As he read his correspondence he realized he would need to visit Pemberley soon. A footman came in to announce “Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir,” even though Fitzwilliam was only steps behind him. Richard threw himself into a chair as the footman closed the study door.

“Good morning, Richard. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Darcy glanced up from his paperwork and took in Richard’s appearance for the first time. His cousin had a strange expression on his face, he was flushed, but his lips were pressed together in a thin white line. He was angry! Darcy tried to think of the last time he had seen this usually genial man so furious. Was it something Aunt Alice had done?

“How could you?” Fitzwilliam spat at him. He launched himself out of the chair and started pacing. “How could you impose yourself on her like that?”

Chapter 10

Darcy was bewildered. “On who?”

“Do not play the innocent with me! Miss Bennet! I saw you on the terrace with her last night.” Richard was practically shouting, leaning over Darcy’s desk.

Damn!
Darcy thought with a sinking heart.
This will not be an easy conversation
. “Saw but not heard?” He asked his cousin.

“I had no need to hear! It was obvious what was happening!” Fitzwilliam resumed pacing, agitation showing in every line of his body.

Darcy struggled to recall how he and Elizabeth had behaved as opposed to what they had said. At first he had attempted to embrace her and she had shrugged him off – several times. He had to admit it would appear potentially damning. “We had an argument—” he started to explain, but Fitzwilliam cut him off.

“That much was plain! I could see that she did not desire your attentions, but you imposed yourself on her again and again – until she finally acquiesced.”

Now Darcy could understand what Fitzwilliam thought had happened, but found his ire rising as well. “That is not what—”

Fitzwilliam had not finished. “And I could see that last night was not the first time this has happened. She knew she was in an untenable position and had to give you wanted eventually. What did you do to her? Is she accepting your ‘favors’ in exchange for your silence about how much you compromised her reputation in France? Or, did she agree to become your mistress because she knew she was too compromised to be
anyone’s
wife?”