Abigail Reynolds - To Conquer Mr. Darcy

She wondered whether the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing Darcy to her, or whether the whole of the visit would not pass away without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. The period that passed in the drawing-room, before the gentlemen came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil, yet she could not determine whether she most feared for or wished his appearance.

The gentlemen came, and she thought he looked toward her, but the ladies had crowded round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea, and where Elizabeth was pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy that there was not a single vacancy near her that would admit of a chair. Darcy walked away to another part of the room, but followed her with his eyes, and she was unsurprised by his bringing back his coffee cup himself. She was determined to be composed, and said, “I hope your sister is well?”

“Yes, she is enjoying a quiet evening to herself. She was happy to make your acquaintance, and hopes you will visit again.”

“It would be my pleasure; she is a very sweet girl.” She could think of nothing more to say, and they stood in silence for some minutes.

“Miss Bennet, I recall when you were in Kent, you were partial to early morning walks. Is it a pleasure you continue at home?”

The memory of their meetings in the grove at Rosings, which she had thought to be accidental, made her blush. “When I am able, and the weather permits, I still enjoy an early ramble.”

“Perhaps, since you know the neighborhood so well, you could recommend some walks to me.”

Her pulse fluttered in response to this evident request for an assignation, and she recalled her agreement to acquaint herself further with him. Certainly, it would be best if that were not done under her mother’s eye; heaven itself could not protect her if Mrs. Bennet became aware that Mr. Darcy and his ten thousand pounds a year had intentions toward her daughter. Yet it should be nowhere too private; the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her did not predispose her to a sense of security regarding his behavior. “The walk to Oakham Mount is pleasant at this time of year,” she said.

His face warmed becomingly as he allowed himself a slight smile. “My thanks for the advice, Miss Bennet.” She found herself caught by his intent gaze, and had to force herself to look away. Clearly he had no intention of observing the fiction that he was interested primarily in her friendship.

When the tea-things were removed, and the card tables placed, she felt rather relieved by seeing him fall a victim to her mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. They were confined for the evening at different tables, but his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to make him play unsuccessfully.

Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to supper, but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them. “Well girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “What say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases’ last week, and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were remarkably well done, and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty.” Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; she had seen enough of Bingley’s behavior to Jane, to be convinced that she would get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy humor, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was thrown into a discomfiture of spirits that kept sleep away for some time, and for every thought she had of Darcy’s reformed behavior, she thought even more of being able to escape this anxiety on her trip to the Lakes. Only two weeks, she reminded herself.

By the end of the following morning, Elizabeth was fully convinced of the impossibility of becoming friends with a man whose every look bespoke desire for far more than companionship. No matter how innocent the conversation—and it ranged from books to music to nature—she found herself flushing alternately hot and cold, and excruciatingly aware of the nature of Darcy’s interest in her. Instead of being invigorated by the walk, she felt on edge and nervous, and it was to this that she attributed her agreement on their return to pay a visit to Miss Darcy, when in fact she desired nothing more than to return home.

Nonetheless, she was able to enjoy her visit with Miss Darcy, and appreciated that her brother left them to themselves, instead of hovering protectively over his sister as Elizabeth had half-expected him to do. It would have been unnecessary, in any case; Miss Darcy brought out the protective instincts in Elizabeth as well, and she could readily understand why her brother worried as much as he did about her, and could see why she would have been an easy target for the likes of Mr. Wickham. When the conversation turned to how Georgiana liked Hertfordshire, she discovered that the younger girl had actually had little chance to see the area, having spent almost all her time at Netherfield.

“Well, I shall have to convince you to take some walks with me, so that you can see some of the local sights. Although they may not be as dramatic as what Derbyshire has to offer, they are still well worth the seeing.”

Georgiana’s face lit up. “That would be delightful! I have wanted to explore, but since I do not know the area, I have been afraid of losing myself.”

“Why, it sounds as if Mr. Darcy has been quite neglecting you!” Elizabeth teased. “I shall have to have words with him.”

“Oh, no!” cried Georgiana with a look of alarm. “He always does anything I ask; he is far too good to me. I just have not wanted to… trouble him. He is doing so much better than he was in London, and that is more than enough to make me happy.”

“I assure you that I was only teasing, Miss Darcy; I am well aware of your brother’s devotion to you,” Elizabeth said with what she hoped was a reassuring manner, but inwardly somewhat amused by the gravity in which her charges had been taken. Perhaps seriousness was a Darcy family trait.

Georgiana looked relieved. “Oh, I am glad. I would not want him to feel guilty in any way, not now, not about me. I have been a great trial to him of late.”

“I can hardly imagine that,” said Elizabeth warmly. After all, I believe that it has been my role to be a trial to him of late.

“Oh, it is true. He has been so unhappy lately, and I have been so worried about him, and it is all my fault. You see,” she hesitated for a moment, and then plunged ahead. “I did something, made a terrible lapse of judgment last summer, and it upset him a great deal, although he never said one word of reproach to me. But I can see that it weighs on him, and these last two months have been terrible. He has been so withdrawn, and so unhappy, so you see why I do not want to cause him any trouble, not now that he finally seems to have been able to forget it a little. But I am sorry, Miss Bennet, I should not be telling you all of my problems; please forgive me.” She looked down, clearly most embarrassed by her confession.

Oh, dear, thought Elizabeth. What a tangled web we weave! She placed her hand over Georgiana’s. “There is nothing to forgive, my dear. I am honored you feel able to tell me your worries. But I think that you blame yourself far too much; I feel sure there are many things in your brother’s life that might be disturbing to him of which you may be unaware, and whatever has upset him these last two months probably has nothing at all to do with you.” She felt abominably guilty, as she suspected that she knew all too well the true cause of Mr. Darcy’s distress.