One Love - Two Hearts - Three Stories Page 2

  "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you, Miss Elizabeth." The words fell into silence; neither of them aware of the clock continuing to tick. Emotions churned inside Darcy's chest until he rubbed at his heart as if to relieve the discomfort. They were words he never had imagined he would utter in his lifetime. The weight of his responsibilities did not allow for taking on the added task of tending to a wife, so his plan had been to allow his sister to provide the heir to Pemberley after she wed. But, it was done and the relief he finally allowed himself to feel lifted his burdened heart.

  He looked to her back, her spine stiff and rigid. She must be stunned at his words. He imagined her delight in hearing that she would be the recipient of his favor. It would be a welcome match for her and her family. Elizabeth's sisters were poorly dowered and the family estate was entailed to a distant cousin. Darcy was pleased that he could provide the opportunity to elevate them in society, though the thought of appearing anywhere with Mrs. Bennet and the three youngest siblings was appalling. Elizabeth must be overjoyed at the thought of leaving her childhood home, the vulgar conduct of her mother, and the smallness of Longbourn society behind. He would open a whole new world of opportunity for his Elizabeth: stately homes, fine gowns, travel, and heirloom jewelry that he could envision surrounding her delicate neck, ears, wrists, and fingers.

  Without turning around, she responded, her voice deliberate. ""I believed you to think that I was only tolerable, not handsome enough to tempt you, Sir. Is that not the opinion you expressed only weeks ago?"

  Darcy felt like Gentleman Jackson had struck him in the gut. He bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees and gasped for air; his composure gone. He stood up and slapped his forehead in stupidity, groaning aloud at his blunder. She had heard! What could he possibly do to fix this mess of his own making?

  CHAPTER THREE – CONFRONTATION

  As the moments stretched, Elizabeth waited for an answer that she assumed was not going to come. Her anger had always been like a match, quick to flare and quick to burn out. As her vexation dissipated like a morning mist, curiosity filled her until it far exceeded her ire. What could Mr. Darcy mean by claiming he admired me? She most certainly did not hold the man in esteem. He had been brusque, argumentative, and his condescension bordered on rudeness. All of the wealth in England would never persuade her to accept a courtship from such an opinionated man. She continued to face the library door.

  Darcy knew not how to proceed. He did know that speaking to the back of her head was not the wisest. He needed to be able to read her expression, if possible.

  "Miss Elizabeth, if you would permit me the opportunity of an explanation, I feel that I will be able to provide an adequate answer to your query." He circled to the front of her and his heart dropped when she refused to meet his eyes. Darcy had long admired her boldness and her ease amongst company. To see her hesitant in front of him unsettled him greatly.

  Darcy heard the approach of a servant balancing a tray filled with a tea service, plates, and rattling cups. He briefly closed his eyes in relief, grateful for the distraction, as he turned to the doorway and spotted Mrs. Nicholls, Bingley's housekeeper. Following her was one of the new maids to oversee the settling of the service onto a small table in between two large chairs placed in front of the fire, where Elizabeth could easily pour out, if she would.

  He waited until the women left the room, making sure they did not inadvertently close the door behind themselves. As much as he longed for her, Darcy would never do anything to compromise Elizabeth. He knew, with a confidence that surprised him that she would never lower herself, like so many ladies of the ton, to finagle him into a position where he would be forced to offer for her. She had far too much dignity and grace of manner to stoop to such disguise.

  He would do anything to make peace with Elizabeth, including humbling himself before her. "Please, Miss Elizabeth. Might you be seated and partake of some refreshment?"

  Darcy's position in society was so elevated that it would have been a degradation to lower himself, but he easily recalled the few times that his own mother counseled him before her death. He was to treat a woman's heart as precious and valuable; worth groveling for, if necessary. For, if a lady generously gives her heart to a man that she holds in respect, there could be no greater treasure in all the kingdoms of the earth. To return the gift was to admire and respect her. The results would be a union where they held each other in loving regard, and they would be blessed with happy years of contentment.

  He also remembered the times that his father, a powerful man, gave due consideration to his wife, listening to her and, on occasion, requesting her opinion and assistance. It appeared to add to the solidity of the marriage and Darcy suddenly realized that the key to his parent's good marriage was communication. If he wanted to progress towards a union with Elizabeth, he was going to have to learn to talk to her; a genuine exchange of ideas. And, he was going to have to become a good listener.

  Darcy waited until Elizabeth turned and walked to the chair. She tucked her skirt behind her as she lowered herself and began to pour. He was unsurprised when his cup of tea was just as he liked it — one sugar and no cream.

  She handed him the cup without raising her eyes. Fixing her own beverage, she sat at the front of the chair as if she was ready to jump up and run.

  He waited until she took her first sip and placed her cup back on the dish.

  "Miss Elizabeth, I owe you an apology. I did say those words, but I did not mean them." He was unsurprised to see her eyes flash at him and her brow lift in amazement. He spoke in low tones so the footman outside the door would not be privy to their conversation.

  "I had just arrived in Hertfordshire earlier that day after an exhausting trip and I was in no mood for company. I do not perform well in front of those who are not acquaintances and a weighty family matter had left me disturbed. When Bingley tried to press me into dancing, I had not even looked to see of whom he spoke. So, I apologize for saying something so untrue in your hearing, but more so, I apologize that I chose my words poorly and caused needless pain."

  "As an explanation of my sour mood that evening, I offer you the following.” Darcy knew he was taking a risk by sharing his family pain. However, if he was permitted to pursue a courtship, it needed to be based on trust. Elizabeth deserved to know why he had acted a manner she found offensive.

  “Miss Elizabeth, my only surviving family member is my young sister, Georgiana. She is not yet sixteen years of age. This summer, she was preyed upon by a man that had been raised in my home, the son of Mr. Wickham, the steward of Pemberley. While the father was a good man, the son, whom my own father indulged, became despicable in his habits. His debauchery led to his downfall and his sudden need for funds moved him to use his charms, which are many, and approach my sister in an effort to convince her that she loved him. With the help of her traitorous companion, Mrs. Younge, he convinced her to elope to Gretna Green."

  Elizabeth gasped at hearing this, covering her opened mouth with her right hand. Her own youngest sister, Lydia, was the same age as Miss Darcy and had little sense. She could only suspect how Lydia would react under the skilled hands of a scoundrel. It would cause a ruination of the family. Lydia had the benefit of two parents and four sisters to attempt to corral her selfish inclinations. Miss Darcy must have felt so alone.

  "Sir, is she well?" Elizabeth was almost frantic. "Did she come to harm?" She tried to recall the comments that Miss Bingley had made about Darcy's sister. An elopement had not been mentioned.

  "I was scheduled to arrive in Ramsgate, where an establishment had been set up for Georgiana, the day of the proposed elopement. However, my business concluded sooner than I had hoped, and I was anxious to see my sister. I arrived a day early to find Wickham in the cottage with her. They had been left alone."

  It was then that Elizabeth really looked at Darcy. His firm grip on the tea cup threatened to shatter it and the pain in his eyes was devastating to wit
ness. She reached over and removed the cup from his hands, placing it back on the tray. Darcy immediately clasped his hands together until she could see the white of his knuckles. They were large hands with long, thick fingers and Elizabeth could see they had calluses. Here was a man unafraid of hard work. His shoulders were broad, and his arms appeared strong under her hand the few times that she had taken his arm. He was a tall man that was almost bent and broken as he looked at the floor.

  Without looking up he again began speaking. "When I asked him his intentions, Georgiana heard Wickham claim that his only interest in my sister was her dowry of thirty thousand pounds. It almost broke her to realize both how he had played upon her tender feelings and the shame that her actions almost brought on the Darcy name." He sat back in the chair and rested his head on the backrest, the first time that she had ever seen his posture less than upright.

  "Miss Elizabeth, you can understand how it pains my own heart to feel powerless to help Georgiana. She has had no mother, no older sister to guide her; only a brother who knew not how to help her heart to heal."

  Finally, he sat up in his normal position and gazed upon her. "It was that man, that failure as a guardian and older brother, who spoke so carelessly at the Meryton assembly, Miss Elizabeth." He watched her for her reaction but could find no evidence of emotion other than shock in her expression or her eyes.

  "It has been many weeks since I considered you the handsomest woman of my acquaintance." He was done! There were no words left for him to share. He had confessed it all.

  Elizabeth had absorbed his words and was processing them syllable by syllable. She understood the compliment that he offered, both by declaring his feelings for her and for sharing the account of his sister. If it became known, it would ruin Miss Darcy. She would be prevented from being presented at court, she would receive no coveted voucher to attend the balls at Almack’s and her chance of making a good marriage was gone.

  Finally, she spoke. Darcy could not take his eyes off her. Her tone was as soft as his as she assured him that she would respect the privacy of both brother and sister.

  "Mr. Darcy, my heart aches for your sister." And, she realized that her heart ached a bit for him too. Her prejudice towards him had been rooted in false impressions. This was not the man that she thought he was. "I now understand how your emotions may have gotten away from you that night, but I believe that your comment created resentment in me that I have been pleased to hang onto; not to my credit."

  As he watched her, he realized that never before had he wanted to hold a woman's hand. Before he could stop himself, his arm stretched out as if to take her hand in his, to feel the softness, to intertwine their fingers and to join her palm to his own. Her next words stopped his forward movement.

  "Might I ask how long you have had guardianship over your sister?" He seemed such a solitary man and she wondered at the relationship between the Darcy siblings. The difference in their ages and his unfamiliarity with the emotional vacillation of a young female mind must have been a considerable challenge. For that she could easily give him the benefit of overlooking his offensive speech.

  "We lost my mother at Georgiana's birth and my father died five years ago. I share guardianship with our cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. However, his career of active service to the Crown keeps him away for long periods of time so the task, most generally, falls to me."

  "Please, Sir, would you tell me about your sister? I understand from Miss Bingley's comments that she is a paragon of accomplishment." She chuckled.

  Darcy's relief at seeing the twinkle return to her eyes was like cool water to a thirsty man. He told how Georgiana loved music, enjoyed long rides racing across the grassy fields of Pemberley, and despised mathematics and science. She was timid and reticent in company.

  Elizabeth compared it to the boldness of Lydia and realized that they were complete opposites. The description called to mind her eldest sister, Jane. Jane Bennet was all that was good and kind, quietly going about her tasks with efficiency and calm.

  "Sir, my sister, Jane, was approached by a gentleman in London when she was the same age that Miss Darcy is now. The interest he showed encouraged her heart to attach itself to him. When he left, it almost broke that tender heart. I easily remember how long it took for her to recover but recover she did."

  Elizabeth had been deeply concerned for her sister. It had taken months to overcome the terrible pain in Jane's heart. Thirteen-year-old Lizzy vowed that she would never give an inferior man power over her and that she would never marry unless there was evident love and respect between both parties. Mr. Darcy was a puzzle that intrigued her. Elizabeth had seen no evidence of tender affection on Darcy's part at all.

  Darcy knew that Bingley was attracted to Miss Bennet as he had long tired of hearing about his friend's 'angel'. He considered how his contemplation of Miss Jane Bennet, at the few social events they had all attended, had led to him to think that Jane had no real attachment to Bingley. This information helped Darcy realize that his conclusions were undoubtedly wrong. Darcy was grateful that he had not tried to talk Bingley out of his pursuit of his 'angel' by indicating that her affections were not engaged. He desperately hoped Georgiana would, like Jane Bennet, recover over time. His arrogant, foolish self! How wrong he would have been to direct Bingley away from Miss Bennet. It would have been painful to them both and it would cause great hurt to Elizabeth.

  His pride in his understanding of those around him was taking a beating.

  CHAPTER FOUR – CHALLENGE

  They quietly sipped their tea as they contemplated all that had been revealed. It was much to take in. Both had failed to see the true feelings that the other carried for them and both had failed to see that their own feelings were distorted by both pride and prejudice.

  "Mr. Darcy — Sir." Elizabeth watched Darcy as he opened and closed the hand that rested on his left thigh. In every other way he appeared to be calm. For some reason, that clue, that signal that he was not as composed as she had assumed him always to be was a comfort to her. He had unsettled her with his words and now she knew they were on an even keel.

  "In such cases as this it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and since I do feel gratitude, I would now thank you. You have quite caught me by surprise, Mr. Darcy."

  Darcy was flummoxed. He could see the sincerity in her manner and expression, so he had no cause to doubt her. "Excuse me, but you were not expecting my address?" How could she not? He had felt many times over the course of her stay at Netherfield Park that his attentions were quite obvious. He had thought that she was flirting with him. Caroline Bingley had noticed to the point that her jealousy moved her to make personal attacks on Elizabeth's character. She was not flirting?

  "I was not, Sir." Elizabeth shook her head as if to clear her vision and her thinking. "It was my opinion, Mr. Darcy that you disapproved of me. Your looks appeared to censure and find fault with my appearance, my speech, and my conduct. Our arguments seemed to fuel the dissension that I felt between us. I had no expectations of you at all."

  It was as if her words slapped him - with vigor. He sat stunned.

  "Sir," she continued, surprised by his discomposure. "Are you well?"

  "I was not finding fault with you, Miss Elizabeth." He ran his hand through his hair, upset that she had misread his intentions. Had my conduct been so poor? Darcy's affections were completely engaged, but he knew that they had not always been. Her circumstances had caused him no end of consternation. Had she been able to look beyond his mask to see his struggle? "Indeed, I have had no end of difficulty in keeping my composure when in your company. Simply put, Miss Elizabeth, you entrance me."

  "But, the arguments, Sir!" She continued to be perplexed. "Most often our conversations resulted in disagreements that other's in this household found to be uncomfortable. There have been very few times tha
t we have reached an agreement. Could you possibly believe that there could be felicity between us if this is our wont?"

  "Miss Elizabeth, I agree that our debates were lively, and I relished those discussions. Did you not also?"

  "Well, yes, I suppose that I did. Thinking of them as taking the form of a debate sheds new light on those discussions." Elizabeth pondered this line of thinking. True, she frequently engaged in similar debates with her father over a variety of subjects, often taking a position that was opposite his solely for the sake of furthering the conversation. Had Mr. Darcy been doing that as well? Elizabeth was not surprised at his intelligence; he was, after all, a graduate of Cambridge. It had been her father's university and though she knew that she would never be allowed the privilege of being educated in those hallowed halls, she did long to benefit from all the gentlemen had learned. "So, you were not endeavoring to display your superiority of understanding when we spoke?"

  "I was not!" All of a sudden comprehension hit Darcy like a blow. "You thought that I was speaking down to you then?"

  "I did." Apparently, they reached the same conclusion at the same time. What she had enjoyed learning in her father's library and viewed as an opportunity to best Darcy in debate, he had enjoyed sparring with her in equal measure. "Oh."

  Darcy went back over her response to his revelation of his admiration to her. She claimed that their feelings were unequal. Elizabeth's further dialogue clearly indicated that she had not viewed him favorably and would reject his suit should he actually make an offer. His heart hurt.

  "Miss Elizabeth, I now understand your feelings most clearly."

  She interrupted him. "But, how could you possibly when I realize that I do not understand them at all." Who was this man? Darcy no longer seemed to fit in the confined box that she had placed him in. Yes, he still wore his pride like his great coat that kept inclement weather off his clothing, but like that garment, it seemed that this pride served as a protection to him. It was a completely new way of viewing the man. He loved his sister and suffered for her broken heart. He had as his best friend one of the most amiable men that Elizabeth had met, and he was apparently willing to overlook how her position in society compared to his. Again, she wondered, who was this man?