Darcy had been thirteen years old the first time he was thrown from a horse, but he still recalled the suddenness of it, the way his mind had struggled to comprehend the jarring thud, and to understand why he was suddenly on his back staring at the sky. Pain had been suspended for such a time as to make him think he had escaped it—until he realised that no, he had not, as it came roaring up to find him.
It was the same sensation to be left in the company of Lydia Bennet, the taste of Elizabeth’s kiss still on his lips and her angry words ringing in his ears. The disappointment was almost too much to be borne.
“I shall never forgive you,” Miss Lydia said, her petulance unabated.
“I would never forgive myself if something happened toyou,” he retorted. Disappointment made him wish to lash out at the silly girl. “You may think that at fifteen?—”
“I am sixteen next week!”
He managed to not roll his eyes but spoke with all the impatience that was warranted. “Miss Lydia, I am going to be perfectly frank with you. A girl of your age who has been properly protected by her family has no idea of the baserinstincts of men—particularly men ensconced in the company of other men for an extended time. By the time you understood it, you would have been too much damaged by it to ever recover the life you ought to have had.”
“I only want to have some fun!” She looked like she wanted to stamp her foot again but did not. “Nothing would have happened to me!”
“Do you think any lady who finds herself ruined or injured set out planning for it?” Darcy shook his head. “Believe me when I say I haveknownyoung ladies, your very age, who have gone out on a lark and come back forever changed. I would much rather have you hate me than suffer a similar fate. No, we can never know what might have happened, but I can only urge you this: do not be in such a hurry to grow up. Enjoy your girlhood.”
She sighed, frustrated and pouty. “You simply have no idea, Mr Darcy, how it is to live in such a place as this! How would you like it if a once-a-month assembly was the only thing you ever had to look forward to?”
“I would not like it at all,” he said. He thought a moment, then added, “How is this? I hope to persuade your sister to marry me, and if I can, you may come and stay with us in London for as long as you wish.”
“That sounds like a grand plan,” Miss Lydia replied with no little sarcasm, “save for the fact that Lizzy is as likely to marry you as she is to sprout wings and fly.”
With that she flounced off.
At least it does not seem that she saw us kissing,Darcy thought grimly. Surely she would have said something about that.
He walked a short way into the maze. Netherfield’s maze was famed for being uniquely vast and complex—almost a labyrinth. It also had innumerable twists and turns and four points of exit, so he knew, reasonably, that he had little chance of findingElizabeth if she did not wish to be found. It was nearly a ten-minute walk to the centre, and he did that, finding her bonnet but otherwise no evidence of her.
What to do, what to do?he thought as he slowly walked back towards the house.What I shall not do is take this one on the chin. This does not end here, not at the hands of Lydia Bennet. Tomorrow,he decided.I shall find her tomorrow at the ball, when emotions have subsided, explain it all as best as I can, and then hope for the best.
If he was not engaged by tomorrow evening, he decided, then he would die trying.
When Lord Saye left her,Elizabeth continued towards the clearing. She looked about in the vain hope that she might see Mr Darcy, but she saw no one save her father, standing and chatting with the elder Mr Goulding under a tree.I suppose they did not abandon me after all. Just another thing she had been wrong about.
She walked towards the pair slowly, wishing with every step that she might catch a glimpse of Mr Darcy, or hear him call out her name. Her wishes went unanswered. When she arrived, her father informed her that he had sent her mother and sisters on without her, and that Mr Goulding would return them to Longbourn in his carriage.
The night was long while Elizabeth considered what she had,again, done. No matter how she twisted and turned it in her head, she could not find any way to absolve herself.The errors of my ways, she thought grimly,are evidently unshakeable. The worst of it was that she would be required to see Mr Darcy on several more occasions, most notably the wedding itself. Sheknew not how she would survive any of it; how to look at the man she had just kissed, the man with whom she had been falling in love, and be met with anger. No, worse than anger—coldness.He came here in hopes of winning my hand, and I have treated him abominably.
The morning came too soon. Elizabeth was yet lying abed when she heard her mother exclaiming in the rooms beneath. She wondered what was happening as she heard a great deal of activity, followed by the sound of someone rushing up the stairs. Moments later, Jane burst into their shared bedchamber.
“It is here,” she said, her face aglow. “Finally, my wedding gown is here! My mother is hard on my heels with it.”
The gowns that Elizabeth, Jane, and Mrs Bennet had commissioned in London had been unforgivably delayed. Mrs Gardiner had gone herself to the shop and impressed upon the lady how very unlikely it was that she would receive more orders from the newly married and wealthy Mrs Bingley if the very gown she was to marry in was not delivered on time. But it seemed they were, at last, at Longbourn, even if it was with barely two days to spare.
“Thank goodness,” Elizabeth said, getting herself out of bed.
“Oh, if this dressmaker even knew what she has done to my nerves!” Mrs Bennet exclaimed as she entered the room, Hill and Sarah behind her bearing the parcels. Hill set hers down and bustled off but Sarah stayed to help them dress.
“There, there, Mama,” Elizabeth said. “I am sure they are done to perfection.”
Alas, relief was short lived. The gown removed from its packing was rather unlike that which Jane had commissioned. What her sister had wished for was a satin gown in palest blush pink, with light trim on the skirt, with fuller sleeves tucked up to allow rosettes made of the same pink satin to peek through. Mrs Bennet had protested, violently, at the lack of lace on thegown, but Jane had held firm and had at last prevailed—or so she had believed. Evidently Mrs Bennet had gone back to the dressmaker, and the dressmaker had complied with a full lace overdress as well as even more lace coming down from the sleeves to cover the elbows. Tears welled up in Jane’s eyes the moment she saw it, but she blinked them back, saying nothing.
Mrs Bennet was delighted by it, too much so to even notice Jane’s quiet. “You see! I told you it needed just a touch of lace! You will be the very picture of elegance, my darling girl! Bingley will be too astonished to speak!”
Jane said not a syllable as she was dressed in the gown—which, Elizabeth noted, seemed to have also become significantly more low cut in the bodice—and remained silent and still in front of the cheval mirror as her mother and Sarah tugged at the lace and exclaimed over her beauty.
“I do not think you have ever been more beautiful,” Mrs Bennet enthused. “Is she not beautiful? Lizzy, say something to your sister.”
That Jane was deeply distressed was perfectly obvious to Elizabeth, but she dutifully told her how beautiful she looked. Jane offered a wan smile and submitted meekly to the removal of the garment, which was hung on the door of their closet. After one last sigh of happy satisfaction, Mrs Bennet and the maid left the two sisters alone, with instructions that Elizabeth should try hers on as well.
