Mr. Darcy's Promise (7 page)

Mr. Darcy pulled his eyes away from Elizabeth and for the first time noticed that there were other visitors in the room. He had been so taken by Elizabeth’s presence he didn’t even acknowledge anyone else. He heard Lydia giggle and his eyes veered to that direction. That was when he saw him.
Wickham!
He was looking right back at him with the smallest smile on those lying, but according to Elizabeth, “charming,” lips, and then Wickham leaned forward and made an ever so small seated bow. It would have been more like a tip of the hat if Wickham was wearing a hat. Darcy was slightly more prepared than Georgiana had been to see him, but it didn’t make the experience any more pleasant.

Elizabeth saw it then, the change in Mr. Darcy. He no longer wore that small smile. His shoulders lifted to their full stature and seemed to grow wider at the same time. His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips turned inward into a straight line. So tight were his lips that they seemed to grow white with tension. She waited as the atmosphere in the room seemed to drop a few degrees even in spite of the sun pouring though the west-facing windows. And then, suddenly, it all changed. Darcy smiled broadly and chuckled.
Mr. Darcy laughing? Whatever could this mean?

A confused Elizabeth then said, “Mr. Darcy I believe you know Mr. Wickham . . .” Elizabeth waited for a response before she finished, and then turned to the officers and continued, “Mr. Wickham, this is Mr. Bingley,” and turning to Bingley, “and that gentleman next to Kitty is Mr. Denny. We had just seated them when your arrival was announced.” She glanced back at Mr. Darcy to gauge his demeanor, but it wasn’t all that necessary as he was still chuckling slightly.

Mr. Darcy thought to himself,
charming, remember to be charming
. “Ah yes, I have known George since we were young enough to wrestle.” He turned to Wickham and spoke to him directly, “I have not seen you though since . . .”

“Mr. Darcy and I went to Cambridge together,” Wickham said quickly. He sent a knowing smirk to Darcy in return.

“Too true, although you were a year behind me, and if I recall, you never finished. Was the life of a scholar too difficult?” He couldn’t help himself. Wickham was a disgrace and Darcy couldn’t stand even looking at him, let alone watch him smile politely. He could remember many times where college life was quite fitting for Wickham, specifically the social scene and the womanizing. Yes, that part of Cambridge had suited him well. Wickham never seemed to study but seemed to get the grades he needed. Although Darcy could never prove he was cheating, it seemed highly probable at the time and even more so now.

Wickham saw this for what it was. Mr. Darcy was once again trying to put him in his plac
e.
Is this how this is going to play out? Right here in front of your dear Miss Elizabeth? Very well, I am game
. “Cambridge was the most incredible experience of my life, but I did find that it did not suit me like I expected. I should have liked to go into the church and take that living your father so generously gifted in his will, but we both know why that did not happen.”

How dare he mention my father’s will so publicly!
Mr. Darcy looked briefly away from Wickham and gauged the faces of the rest of the room. Mrs. Bennet looked confused. Mr. Bennet was sitting up and leaning forward, his expression quite amused at the spectacle in front of him. Lydia was bored and seemed to be looking to change the subject. Jane was looking at her hands, embarrassed. Bingley was astonished but was close-lipped, and Darcy didn’t dare look at Elizabeth. “Yes, George, we do know of my father’s wishes. It is a great pity, then, that you declined the living and decided to go practice law . . . but that did not work out either, did it?” He turned to the confused Mrs. Bennet to clarify some things, “Mr. Wickham was the son of my dear late father’s steward. His good looks and charm worked his way into my father’s heart and will.” Then turning back to Wickham, he broadened his grin and chose his words carefully. “I always thought you turned down the parish because you did not like taking orders . . . but from the look of the uniform, it seems you have reconsidered taking orders.”

Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing! Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham were having a verbal duel right there in her sitting room! She looked to Mr. Wickham to see how he reacted to such a blow. He had shifted his weight slightly. Then he glanced at Elizabeth briefly before turning his eyes back to Darcy and said, “I rather think I would have enjoyed making sermons and helping those less fortunate than myself. Many do not seem to have the ability to speak kindly with those less fortunate.” He lifted his chin slightly as he said that last bit. The glare aimed at Mr. Darcy sent a chill down Elizabeth’s spine. Elizabeth looked back to Mr. Darcy. Although the
words themselves were revealing enough, it was the manner in which they had unleashed them that made Elizabeth shudder. It was as if they had said “on guard!” and were fencing at this very moment, with smiles on their faces all the while!

“Many people ask for help when they have the means, ability and talent to help
themselvesto be self-sufficient. Financial generosity is not the only form of generosity, Mr. Wickham,” Mr. Darcy fired out in what he knew was a less than charming manner
.
I am losing myself in front of all these people! It is time for this to end
.
“Bingley, I believe I have monopolized the conversation, and I have kept you from your purpose in calling.”

Mr. Bingley sat up straighter and looked much relieved. The air in the parlor was lighter, or at least he knew it would be once he made his announcement. He reached into his coat and brought out a folded paper and said, “It is official. Netherfield Ball is to be held in four days and you all are invited!” He grinned as he could tell it truly did lift the spirit of the room.

Squeals and giggles could be heard from the two youngest Bennets. But it was not what took Elizabeth’s attention, for she was watching Jane’s reaction. There was a gentle smile as she and Bingley’s eyes were locked on each other. It was so sweet!
They love each other so much!
The room had erupted in cries of excitement and exclamations of how greatly they would anticipate such an event.

Darcy interrupted her thoughts. “Miss Elizabeth? Will you do me the honor of dancing the first set with me? I would be honored if you would.” He tried to smile as charmingly as possible.

Before staying at Netherfield, Elizabeth had been fearful that Darcy did not approve of Jane and Bingley. There was never anything said or done but he seemed to frown whenever Bingley showed any particular attention to Jane. It was like he was scrutinizing Jane and tallying marks on the side of either “worthy” or “unworthy.” During her stay at Netherfield, she became more confident that Darcy didn’t have as great an influence over Bingley as she once thought. Mostly because Bingley was so openly concerned about Jane, and how else should Darcy react to genuine concerns over someone’s health? She did know, however, that Bingley still listened to Darcy’s opinions and often before offering his own he would defer to Darcy’s. If Darcy still had an influence on Bingley and subsequently, her sister’s very happiness, there was little else to do but consent to dance with Mr. Darcy. She took a deep breath and thought for the first time how grateful she was that her sisters were giggling so loud that her mother didn’t hear Mr. Darcy’s request.
That is all I need, my matchmaking mother getting an inkling in her mind that Darcy had feelings for me. I can hear her now. “Ten thousand a year!” No, he thinks me far beneath him. After all, it is only one dance with him.

“Miss Bennet?” Darcy addressed her more formally this time, concern reaching the corner of his eyes.

“I am sorry; I was lost in thought. I accept.” Elizabeth let out her breath and noticed so did Mr. Darcy. She then quickly looked away to avoid acknowledging the broad grin on his face that she couldn’t quite understand.
How strange a request! It is just a dance!

Conversations waxed and waned, and the two officers began to take their leave. Elizabeth stood to properly say her farewell. Mr. Wickham made his way towards Elizabeth, glancing quickly to Mr. Darcy, who remained seated. He bowed deeply, once again keeping his eyes on Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of dancing the first set with me at the ball?”

She colored slightly and said, “I am sorry. It seems that one has already been taken.”

Wickham flashed a look at Darcy who had a small grin on his face that was obviously poorly hidden. “I see. Well, perhaps I shall have to stand in line as it seems your company is in high demand. But who could not be enamored with your beauty?” He didn’t dare look directly back at Mr. Darcy, but Wickham could see out of the corner of his eye Darcy’s lips tighten and his shoulders square a little.
So Darcy has asked her for the first dance already? Yes, my plan will work out to my liking quite nicely.
The officers then left, both in very lively moods for rather different reasons.

Mr. Darcy was in a poor mood and no longer wished to be “charming.” Elizabeth had very nearly ignored him throughout the rest of the visit. He didn’t know what to think of it. He kept trying to engage her in conversation but he could come up with little else
besides the weather to ask about. He tried to ask about the book she was reading, but she gave brief answers and seemed to turn her attentions elsewhere. It was in this mood that he decided it was time to pull Bingley away from Jane and take their leave. “Bingley, you promised to show me the northeast fence that needed mending. Perhaps now is a good time before the sun sets.” He saw Bingley’s countenance drop, but he agreed it was time as well.

They took their leave and as soon as they had exited Longbourn, Bingley let out a hearty laugh and said, “Darcy, pray do tell me what happened in there!”

“Whatever do you mean?” Darcy inquired.

“I mean you and Mr. Wickham! That, my dear friend, was the closest thing to a cock fight I have ever witnessed!” Bingley’s face was smiling so broadly that Darcy suspected his cheeks must hurt.

Darcy bowed his head and mumbled, “I was trying to be charming.” Darcy pressed on but Bingley caught up and slapped him on the back.

Bingley laughed so loudly that the ladies at Longbourn were sure to have heard. “Charming? You had best keep the
cock fighting to a minimum if you expect to be charming, my dear friend.”

T

he Bennets spent the next four days in varying
degrees of anticipation for the Netherfield Ball. Lydia and Kitty, with Jane and Elizabeth as their companions, made numerous trips to Meryton to buy the necessary gloves, ribbons, and flowers. Fancy hairstyles were practiced and decided upon, but minds were changed repeatedly. Mrs. Bennet was perhaps the most undone, as she couldn’t stop talking about how “this was surely going to be the night that Bingley asks for Jane’s hand in marriage!”

After they were all squeezed into one carriage, Elizabeth finally began to feel some trepidation for the night ahead of them. In a short while she would be at Netherfield again, and so far, all she had to look forward to was her dance with Mr. Darcy! Why hadn’t Wickham asked for a different dance when she told him the first was taken? She struggled with how she felt about each man. Wickham was too bold and from what she heard four days ago, Wickham seemed to have some serious faults. He had gained Darcy’s father’s favor, even offered a living in his will, yet he was an officer instead. He never finished Cambridge, and seemed to have shifted from wanting the living, to a preference for law, and now seemed to prefer a parson’s lifestyle of servitude. Somehow his natural charm and flattery did not seem to fit well with that sort of existence. She had a sense that Wickham led a very daring and “free” life, especially with the ladies. His lines were too smoothly delivered; in fact, they felt almost practiced. It was along these lines that she convinced herself that she would be not be hurt if Wickham never asked her to dance a set with him.

Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, was an enigma she could not puzzle out. In frustration, she had attempted to stop trying to read his character. But as they neared Netherfield, her thoughts were most definitely drawn to him. She thought of his soft smile he had given her numerous times; this was always brought on slowly, starting at his lips and finally reaching the corners of his eyes. He was, she had to admit, handsome when his eyes smiled. She thought of his sweet sister and how Georgiana had praised him: “I could not ask for a better or more considerate brother. He anticipates my every need.” Or when speaking of Pemberley, “All the servants are so devoted because he is so fair and generous. We almost never have servants leave because they know they could not have a more caring master.” Yes, she could see Darcy being generous and devoted. He seemed to be, if nothing else, a deeply devoted brother. With Georgiana, he seemed to have an intensity about him that made him complex. Perhaps, Elizabeth conceded, even passionate. She thought about the passion he expressed in their conversations about books they had at Netherfield. Yes, she decided, perhaps Mr. Darcy wasn’t as proud as she once thought. At the very least, it seemed he was more complex than haughty and spiteful. And it was only natural, wasn’t it, that he should be more comfortable in front of some more than others? His disdain was evident for Mr. Wickham, though! She laughed out loud in the carriage at the memory of the verbal duel a few days ago. Her attentions were brought back to her family when she caught her father’s watchful gaze.

Mr. Bennet noted the laugh curiously, but remained silent. The carriage had pulled to a stop and the groomsman opened the door to hand out the ladies. Lydia, of course, scrambled to get out first, and nearly knocked Kitty down in the process. Before Elizabeth left the carriage, Mr. Bennet reached for her arm to slow her progress. Unlike her sisters, he thought, she seemed to demonstrate a strange uneasiness about the ball. When all the others had exited, he turned to Elizabeth and said, “Now dear, do not fret over the evening. There will be many gentleman and officers ready to take a twirl with you.”

Elizabeth sighed inwardly. She could take her father’s teasing but not this strange sensitivity. In an attempt to lighten not only her own mood, but her father’s as well, she teasingly said, “Now, Papa, I plan on having the night of my life. In fact, I would venture to say it will surely be life-changing!”

He smiled. “Is that so? Well, do not let me detain you from your fateful evening, my dear. I would hardly want to make you miss your dance with Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Bennet watched Elizabeth’s reaction and
sure enough, she blushed. There was surely some attraction towards the man.

Elizabeth looked shocked and confused. How did her father know about the first dance? “How . . .”

“Fathers have good eyes and ears, my dear Lizzy. It may seem— and granted it is sometimes true— that I never listen to those around me, but I notice a lot more than I let on. This has served me well in dealing with your mother’s nerves. Now go, enjoy the evening.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

She exited the carriage and then turned back to her father. “In that case, Papa, I anticipate a highly entertaining evening for you, as Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy will both be in the same room again, and we know how the last meeting went!” She laughed brightly at him then.

*****

Darcy had been watching for the Bennet’s carriage and he was not disappointed, as it was one of the first to arrive. He motioned to Bingley, who was greeting his
guests, that the carriage was here. Bingley had asked him to keep an eye out for Miss Bennet. As it served Darcy’s own purpose as well, he didn’t object to performing such a task. It had been four days since he saw Elizabeth, and he was anxious to be in her presence again. He watched as all the Bennets besides Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet filed out of the carriage. He feared she was ill and not coming, but continued to watch with hopeful anticipation that she would indeed step out into the night. Bingley joined him now as the other Bennets made their way to the door.
Where was she?
He took a step forward, hoping to get a closer look, when she finally made her way to the door. He first saw her pale silvery purple gown when she stepped out of the carriage. Her neckline was rounded but modest, and had a fringe of darker lace at the center that matched the lace around the bodice. She wore white flowers in her beautifully braided hair that was wrapped into the most charming bun that had a single silver or white ribbon weaved into it. She turned back to the carriage and said something to her father who was exiting the carriage behind her. He found himself entranced by the short ringlets at the nape of her neck but when she turned around, he was mesmerized by her smile. Her chocolate curls were styled in ringlets that framed her face nicely and he could hear her vibrant laugh even through all the commotion of the Bennets.

Elizabeth caught up to her family and was witness to a very endearing look from Bingley to Jane which made Jane blush most becomingly. Elizabeth thought Jane looked more beautiful tonight than ever, and laughed softly as she realized Bingley was mimicking her own thoughts aloud.
It is more evident than ever that Jane will have a love match.
She smiled at the thought and wondering idly if she would ever get married. Were there two such Bingleys in England?

“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said interrupting her thoughts, “I have never been as moved as I am right now.”

Elizabeth assumed he had been watching the exchange between Bingley and Jane as well, and did not see his dark brooding eyes on her. “Yes,” she said, touched by the attention to his friend’s romance. “They do seem to be the picture of the perfect attachment.”

Mr. Darcy was almost relieved that she seemed to not catch the essence of his comment. He attempted to calm his heart, which was beating louder in his ears than the musicians in the next room warming up. He tried again to compliment Elizabeth. “Yes, Bingley and your sister do seem to enjoy each other’s company, but I find the whole night seems to have a somewhat magical feel to it. May I say how nice you look?” His hand reflexively reached up for those ringlets on the side of her face and brushed one away from her eye.

Elizabeth, startled by the touch, finally turned towards him and saw the look on his face. He was not looking at her, she thought, but rather through her . . . as if he was deep in thought. When his hand brushed the lock of hair away from her face, she felt quite conscious of how a gesture could be construed. “Mr. Darcy, might I remind you that that kind of gesture . . .”

He lowered his hand quickly and then clasped both tightly behind his back. “I am sorry, the hair was in your eye, I . . . I . . . I have no excuse, please forgive me.” He looked sheepishly around and luckily it appeared no one had noticed.
Why do those eyes bewitch me so? This is not starting off well.
“It will not happen again, Miss Elizabeth, I promise.”

He then turned into the ballroom, without even noticing the teasing quizzical look Mr. Bennet gave to Elizabeth. Darcy also didn’t see Elizabeth shrug her shoulders and arch her eyebrow back at her father before entering the ballroom as well.
Papa, I will not be intimidated or teased tonight.

Mr. Bennet just chuckled. No matter how hard Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth tried to be discreet, it was impossible for a father to miss their obvious attraction and flirtation. He assumed they had their reasons for not being open with their feelings. Perhaps Darcy could not bring himself to propose to a girl of so little fortune. His eyebrows drew together. He could not see Darcy being the sort of man to take advantage of a girl, and he knew Elizabeth had enough sense to avoid any kind of secret courtship. Whatever their attachment, he knew, he could assure himself that it would resolve itself in time.

Soon enough the musicians were ready and Darcy knew he had to face Elizabeth again. He chastised himself firmly in their time apart to keep his thoughts and especially his hands to himself. This next half hour would be trying in this new commitment as their persons would be not only near each other, but their hands would be touched and even held at times out of the necessity of the dance. He allowed himself one more glance at her fine figure before he addressed her. “Miss Elizabeth, I believe this is the dance you promised me.” He extended his hand out to her.

She turned around and looked at the offered hand, before she arched an eyebrow saucily at him and teased, “So it is, but can I trust you and your hands, Mr. Darcy?” She had been longing for the opportunity to tease him about that awkward moment near the front door a few moments ago. But when she saw him flush deep red, she paused. Upon seeing his discomfort, somehow
she
was the one who most wanted to apologize. “Come now, Mr. Darcy, I was only teasing. And I believe if we do not hurry we will miss the beginning of our dance.”

He took her offered hand, but couldn’t think of a thing to say. Everything that came to mind was ridiculous and would only embarrass him further. Instead he gave her a weak smile and led her to her place. He continued in his embarrassment until the dance
started and Elizabeth stepped forward with the rest of the ladies, curtsied, tilted her head down and to the left, then glanced up back at Darcy and gave him one of her moving smiles. He relaxed a little and stepped forward with the rest of the gentlemen, bowing more deeply than the others. He then smiled at Elizabeth. The men stepped back into place and the dance began.

Although the gentle pace of the music was calming to Elizabeth, it was not enough to slow her speeding heart as she looked at Mr. Darcy’s graceful form. His posture was erect and he carried himself with smooth, easy movements. She noticed that every time they came together and their hands met, he would look her directly in the eye and his own would grow darker. The dance continued in this way for quite some time. Elizabeth was so moved by each encounter and look that she could hardly count on her feet to make the appropriate movements. The dance was one where both hands came together briefly for a spell and for that brief moment she was face to face with Mr. Darcy right before they turned. She would color each time the dance came to this particular movemen
t.
Why does he not say something instead of look at me in that way?
She found her own thoughts were veering towards avenues that she had never gone before.
What would it be like to be held in those arms
?
She blinked quickly and tried to chase these foreign feelings away.
This was Mr. Darcy! He would never . . .
Mr. Darcy interrupted those thoughts when he spoke for the first time during the dance.

“I believe our time is almost at an end,” he said.

She found herself relieved to be speaking and able to avoid those intruding thoughts. “I believe so, Mr. Darcy.”

“May I say how I have enjoyed our dance?”

“You may, but one must not bear false witness.” She smiled easily back at him.

“And what makes you think I have not enjoyed myself?”

“Why, there has been no conversation of any sort. Not one word!”

He looked thoughtful.
I felt as though our bodies spoke volumes!
“But sometimes, surely, silence is golden. Somehow I feel idle talk of the weather would not have made the dance more enjoyable.” They then came together one last time with both hands touching and he was overcome with her beauty. He inhaled cautiously.
Yes, I was right. She smells of fresh linen and lavender.
What a perfect way to end such a perfect dance. Right before he turned, however, he caught a strange movement behind Elizabeth and recognized the form immediately. Wickham was standing off to the side grinning widely at Darcy. Wickham’s eyebrows rose slightly and his grin grew deeper when their eyes met. Darcy frowned.
What is Wickham planning? He is up to something, I know it
!
Darcy suddenly was reminded that Georgiana was here in the same room as Wickham and he was struck with fear. Where was she? His eyes danced around the room and caught sight of her with Miss Bingley by the refreshment table, both looking at him dance with Miss Elizabeth. Georgiana had an amused smile on her face, while Miss Bingley was glaring heatedly at them.