Compromised! Page 9

  Joy filled Elizabeth’s heart. She hugged Charlotte tightly, wondering if she would have had the same positive attitude had it happened to her.

  Charlotte started chuckling when she saw the look on Elizabeth’s face. Everything she was feeling and thinking was shown in her eyes.

  “Lizzy, are you not happy you were compromised by Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte was sly in her question and her countenance.

  “I am.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The emotions of the day finally settled on Elizabeth just prior to knocking on Jane’s bed chamber door. She stood in the upper hallway of her family home, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Tension stiffened her neck and she needed both hands to rub the ache from the tightened muscles. It had been encouraging to hear Charlotte speak of traveling to Pemberley. Her friend’s plan was to remain as Georgiana’s companion until a place could be established of her own. There was a light to Charlotte’s eyes that Elizabeth had never before observed. Was it from having a home of her own or from experiencing her first embrace? Elizabeth chuckled at Charlotte’s comments about Wickham. That she could be so pleased with his kiss was shocking to Elizabeth. Charlotte only complained about its brevity. At the same time, Elizabeth wondered if she might not feel as did Charlotte had she never been kissed by Darcy.

  Shaking her head, puzzled at the events of the past four and twenty hours, she knocked gently on Jane’s door. At her sister’s call to enter, Elizabeth stepped inside, closing the heavy oak panel behind her. Like Charlotte, Jane was sitting on her bed, moving to make room for her sister.

  “How is Charlotte?”

  Elizabeth was not at all surprised when Jane’s first concern was for another. She was entirely selfless. “Charlotte is determined to prosper with this change to her life and I am exceedingly proud of her for it.” She leaned against her sister and put her arm across her shoulders. “So, my question to you, dear sister, is how are you faring after the tumult of this day?”

  “Oh, Lizzy!” Jane rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “I hardly know.”

  “Whatever happened between you and poor Mr. Bingley, dearest? He looked positively miserable and you are not looking much better than he.”

  “I hardly know what happened, Lizzy. First, I was so excited. It seemed he was prepared to make an offer. Then, he started speaking of how he expected his wife to gain control over Caroline and I knew immediately that as much as I admired him, I did not want to be that woman.”

  “I can only imagine.” Elizabeth could not help but make an instantaneous mental comparison between Darcy and Bingley. Immediately it was clear who the better man was. While Darcy’s high-handedness often served to be an irritant to Elizabeth, the fact that he was competent and comfortable taking the lead was a relief.

  “When I left him in the garden, I sought the refuge of my room. However, Mama would not have it. She screamed at me, Lizzy. Me!”

  Being at the receiving end of Mrs. Bennet’s squeals and effusions was not unusual for Elizabeth. It was a sound she had heard up close since her youth. For Jane? Yes, a rare occurrence, indeed.

  “Mama insisted I return to the garden and apologize to Mr. Bingley. She also demanded I do whatever was needed to become his wife.” Jane gulped in horror at the thought. “Lizzy, I had to tell her ‘no’. I have never done that before today.”

  “Well, that is a peculiar sort of accomplishment, is it not?” Elizabeth wanted to chuckle, though her sister would find no humor in the situation. “Oh, Jane. Do you have regrets over your decision?”

  “I do not, I think.” Jane stood from the bed and moved to the window. She spoke without looking back at Elizabeth. “I am two and twenty years old with no prospects.” She twisted a lone curl resting on the side of her neck, her only evidence of nerves. “I am not like Charlotte. I do not want to set out on my own. Every minute of my life I have been told and trained to be the woman of the house. Even though Mama seems to take little pleasure in her marriage to Papa, she is proud she has a home to run and children to rear.” Jane finally looked back at her sister. “I want children, Lizzy. Many children.”

  “Then we know what must happen first, do we not?”

  “Yes, Lizzy. I need to marry.” Jane sighed heavily. “Mr. Bingley was closer to asking me than any other has been before.”

  “Jane!” Elizabeth walked to stand next to her sister. “You are not reconsidering Mr. Bingley, are you?”

  Elizabeth knew the life of a female of the time was tenuous. Having no prospects was devastating. The experience of Charlotte Lucas certainly proved thus. Jane had much to recommend her. She should have suitors streaming to her side. The reality was that the gentlemen at Netherfield Park were the most attractive prospects to arrive in Meryton during Elizabeth’s lifetime.

  “How could I not, Lizzy?” Jane stopped the movement of her fingers. “As poor as our parents’ marriage is, I believe if you asked Mama if she would go back and not marry our father rather than live in an unhappy union, she would marry him again. Being the wife of a gentleman has always been her purpose and joy in life. Turning us into the same is also her priority.” Jane’s voice dropped to a whisper as her chin fell to her chest. “When she demanded I tell her my response to Mr. Bingley, she called me a fool.”

  “Do you believe you are a fool, dear Jane?” Elizabeth could not help but hold her breath until her sister answered. Much weighed on Jane’s response. It would determine her beloved eldest sibling’s future and Elizabeth had forever desired the happiest of lives for Jane.

  Jane turned from the window and looked directly at Elizabeth. It was a look so serious that humor or teasing would have no place in the rest of the conversation.

  “Sister, do you love Mr. Darcy? I mean really love him? The forever kind of love where your heart is bound to his, never to be separated by any other?”

  Elizabeth pondered before she answered. It had been a subject she has given much thought to over the past week. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out.

  “Jane, when I am in Mr. Darcy’s presence, I have such feelings for him. When he told me of his love and affection, I easily told him I felt the same.” Elizabeth paused briefly and took her sister’s hands. “Now that he has left for his home, I long for his presence. Does this mean I am in love? I believe it is so.”

  Jane nodded her head.

  “But, Jane, in being honest with myself, I wonder how I have gone from abhorrence to having my heart attached to him so quickly. Yes, I do understand him more and now that I know him better, his actions, for the most part, are reasonable and easily explained.” Elizabeth could not help her small smile. “And he is devastatingly handsome, especially when he looks at me with tenderness and appreciation. Oh, Jane, when he smiles… there is not a more glorious sight in all of England, I am sure.”

  “Lizzy, years ago when I was five and ten years old, our aunt Gardiner spoke to me of the difference between love and desire. There had been a woman she was acquainted with who had claimed to love one of the clerks in Uncle’s store. Both were quite young, though they were older than myself at the time of their romance.” Jane tried to remember her aunt’s exact words as they were powerful. “They proclaimed a long-lasting love and they looked and acted like they were in love. Then, a gentleman came into the lady’s presence while she was shopping for her trousseau. He was all that was handsome and charming. A flirtation ensued. It was but a short time before the young woman spurned the young clerk, leaving him heartbroken, and married the gentleman. At the time Aunt told me this tale, the couple had been wed for almost ten years. There had been several children and the household had been reduced by a drastic loss of income. The wife told Aunt that she no longer loved her husband, regretting her decision each time she saw Uncle’s clerk. For you see, the clerk became the kind of man who knew how to cherish a wife. He was a responsible worker and cautious in his decisions. The woman thought she loved each man only to find out later that it was only desire she felt. The only
person she truly loved was herself. That kind of love led her astray.”

  While Elizabeth was thinking of the relationship between Darcy and herself, Jane was thinking of Mr. Bingley. Sudden awareness flooded Elizabeth and she could feel her cheeks burning. Was she like that woman? It horrified her to think she might be that shallow.

  “I need Fitzwilliam.” Panic was starting to rise in Elizabeth’s breath as she considered her feelings.

  “My dearest Lizzy,” Jane pulled on her sister’s hands, drawing her closer. “Aunt Gardiner also spoke about desire. She said it was such a powerful emotion that it can blind you to the serious flaws of the man. She said it looks like love and feels like love. However, it is not love.”

  “I cannot imagine the circumstances whereupon Aunt would speak to you of this subject, Jane, but I am pleased she did. I believe her to be correct.” Elizabeth compared Jane’s comments with what she knew of love from books. The only example of a tender relationship she was familiar with was that of their Gardiner family. All other marriages were ones of tolerance and trouble, where one partner felt disdain for the other. “In Romeo and Juliet, when the young man sees his lady love for the first time, he states, ‘but soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’” They proclaim their undying love after their initial meeting. Sadly, their love dies with them.”

  “Was it love, Lizzy? Or, was it desire?” Jane squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “How could it be true love if they knew nothing of each other? How does the story end?”

  “Not well for the young lovers.”

  Elizabeth was not comfortable any longer with the discussion. She could tell that Jane was not either. They both had much to think about. Giving her sister a quick embrace, Elizabeth left Jane to her thoughts. Returning to her room, she needed to consider her own future.

  ***

  The carriage ride from Longbourn to Netherfield Park was silent, both men wrapped up in their own thoughts of their particular Miss Bennet. It was when they arrived at Bingley’s estate that Darcy asked him what had happened.

  “I was hoping to find myself an engaged man, Darcy. It was not to be.” Bingley refused to make eye contact with his closest friend.

  “She refused you?” Darcy was surprised. He knew the amount of pressure Mrs. Bennet was putting on her daughters to marry well. Gossip skipped from one event to the next about the possible attachment of Charles Bingley to Jane Bennet. Speculation as to the carriages, jewels, and pin money Miss Bennet would have followed immediately behind the words of the almost certain engagement.

  “She did.” Finally, Bingley looked at Darcy. “Miss Bennet was kind with her words, but she clearly was not acquiescent in the least about taking control of Caroline.” Bingley shook his head to clear the fog. “I never should have asked it of her. If I cannot take control of my own household, I am undeserving of a woman like Jane Bennet for a wife.”

  Darcy could see that Bingley was both heartbroken and resolved.

  “What shall you do, Bingley?”

  “I will follow Caroline to London, making arrangements for her to have her own household.” Bingley could see Darcy was pleased with his course of action. “My friend, I would ask that you let word out that Caroline is no longer to use the Darcy connection to obtain invitations to balls and other social occasions. She has played on your association long enough.”

  To say Fitzwilliam Darcy was pleased would have been an understatement. “You are going to attempt to rein in the conduct of your sister, Bingley? I am exceedingly proud of you.”

  Bingley rose to his full height as he stepped out of the carriage. “Yes, Darcy. It is time the trousers in the family are worn by me.”

  Darcy could not help but pat him on the back. It would not be easy. However, what in life is easy if it is truly worthwhile? The path to love with Elizabeth had been fraught with problems, most of which were of his own making. As he thought of his betrothed, he hurried into the house to write a note to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, to notify him of his decision to bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire. Then he quickly wrote a note to his aunt, Lady Matlock, to let her know that Caroline was not to presume upon the Darcy name any longer. He knew it would please his aunt as she had never approved of Bingley’s sister’s grasping ways. Finally, he wrote a note to Elizabeth. Before he sealed it, he read it again.

  My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,

  Parting is such sweet sorrow. For the first time in my adult life, I comprehend the meaning of the Bard’s words. I will travel safely, my love, and I will push as hard as I can to return to you all the more quickly. Pray you find contentment with our plans. We have much to do and learn of each other before we wed. That day cannot come fast enough for me and it is my hope that you are anxiously awaiting that blessed event as well.

  You fill my heart. Your servant,

  F. Darcy

  It took little time to have his valet and his luggage packed in his carriage. Before he took his leave of his host, he pressed the note into the hands of Bingley’s capable butler. It would be delivered immediately. Darcy wondered at Elizabeth’s reaction to his words. He prayed the time they would be apart would be undisturbed for them both.

  With one last handshake, Darcy climbed into his carriage and was off.

  ***

  Elizabeth closed her bed chamber door and leaned back against it. Jane had given her much to think of and she feared she would get little sleep that night. It was not until her eyes became accustomed to the dark when she spotted the white envelope upon the small table flanking her bed. Could it be? Elizabeth rushed to the table to pick up the note. Her fingers shook as she struggled to light the candle. Was it his masculine penmanship? Surely, it had to be. It was. Elizabeth sat on the bed and broke the Darcy seal on the back. Unfolding the note, she held her breath as she read it. There was no possible means she could have used to stop the smile lighting her face. She quickly read it again and then again. Pressing the fine parchment to her chest, she debated with herself—love or passion? Passion or love?

  It was love.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darcy had not traveled two miles away from Netherfield Park when he realized he was being a fool. Tapping the roof, he directed the driver to return to Bingley’s estate. There he found his friend in a state of confusion, trying to decide if he wanted to remove himself immediately to London or wait until the morrow. When Darcy realized it was his friend’s means of putting off confrontation with his sister, he suggested Bingley think on the consequences and proceed to town the following morning.

  Leaving his valet and his luggage behind, Darcy jumped on the back of his horse and headed north. He would arrive much sooner and could use the carriage he had left with Georgiana to return to Elizabeth. If Georgiana was ready to travel and the weather held, they could conceivably be back in Meryton in under five days. Any tiredness was worth the effort.

  He arrived in Derbyshire filthy and exhausted. Fitzwilliam Darcy was hoping to see Georgiana waiting for him in the entrance hall of Pemberley. She was not there. His long-time housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, and her husband, the butler of the estate, greeted him with pleasure. Mrs. Reynolds had devoted much of her time and attention to the Master and his sister after the loss of Lady Anne Darcy. The express she had received a few days prior stating Darcy’s desire to spend time with Georgiana filled her with joy and trepidation. The siblings had spent little time together recently and she could not help but worry that their silent natures would further alienate them rather than draw them closer.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, if you would follow me to my study, we have much to discuss.”

  Once Darcy’s outer clothes were taken away, they both moved to the designated room. His letter, sent earlier that week while he was in London, begged Georgiana to remain at Pemberley until his arrival. In it, he had shared his plans for the two of them to spend time together. He had had no response, nor had he expected one. The note to his housekeeper had shared the same info
rmation with the additional direction to not allow his sister to travel on her own by any means possible.

  Once they were seated, Darcy began.

  “I must ask of you, Mrs. Reynolds, how Miss Darcy responded to my request?”

  Kate Reynolds had been at Pemberley since the Master was four years old. She had watched him grow into his position and had seen him stumble occasionally under the weight. It had been her deepest desire to have him find a wife who understood the man, who would bring him comfort, and who would help him feel joy. He lived his adult life in a state of aloneness.

  “Master Fitzwilliam, I do believe there was relief when she realized you did not want her away from Pemberley.” Many emotions had displayed themselves on the young girl’s face. Tears had poured from her eyes once she realized she would not be banished. It made the housekeeper’s heart ache to see Miss Darcy so troubled. “What you are doing will be good for your sister. Spending time together will be just what she needs. Bakewell, is it? A lovely location.”

  “No, Mrs. Reynolds, my plans have changed. We will be traveling to Hertfordshire to stay in the home leased by Mr. Bingley.” Displeasure flashed across his housekeeper’s face, and Darcy knew where it originated. “Georgiana and I will be well cared for by the staff in residence.” He almost chuckled at the concern he spied on her face. Darcy knew how she felt about Miss Caroline Bingley. “And, so you are aware, I will be introducing my sister to my betrothed.”

  “Betrothed!”