Rescued by Mr Darcy Page 3

  “I am happy to be home as well, Papa,” Jane said and Elizabeth murmured her agreement.

  Mary, before disappearing into her room, gave Jane and Elizabeth the lit candle, so they could prepare for bed.

  “See you in the morning,” Mary said as a goodnight.

  Jane and Elizabeth opened the door to their room and Elizabeth saw, wonderfully, the bed was ready for them to crawl into. Setting the candle down on a table in front of the mirror, Elizabeth sunk down onto the soft bed with a sigh.

  “Lizzy,” Jane asked quietly. “Are you truly fine? You were so brave on the road… Keeping us safe while I was frozen with terror!”

  “I was terrified as well,” Elizabeth said, not looking Jane in the eye. The tears that first appeared with Mr. Bennet reappeared. “I was so afraid that they would hurt us, hurt you, and I had no idea what to do… I have never felt so helpless.”

  Jane sat down beside her sister, tears on her face as well. She put her arms around Elizabeth, and Elizabeth felt all of the stress of the night come to the surface and she cried into Jane’s shoulder. She knew Jane cried as well, it was just so much.

  “I’m sorry I did not ask after you in the coach,” Jane whispered, after both their tears had dried up. “I could hardly think at all, but I should have thought about you.”

  “I was hardly in the mood to talk,” Elizabeth assured her sister. She had been thinking the same thing, that she should have asked after Jane in the carriage.

  “It is lucky that this Mr. Bingley came along,” Jane said, standing up and beginning to ready for bed.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth agreed firmly.

  “I shall look forward to thanking him again at the Assembly,” Jane continued.

  “Yes, I am sure he will have the attentions of the whole of the Bennet family,” Elizabeth said, dread already filling her. Her mother and sisters could be quite overwhelming. She felt sorry for the man in advance.

  “I do not think it is to be avoided,” Jane agreed. Silence filled the air as the sisters continued to prepare for bed. It seemed as if they were too tired to talk more. They slipped beneath the covers and Elizabeth blew out the candle.

  “He was quite handsome,” Jane said after they lay in the dark for a few minutes.

  “Was he?” Elizabeth asked, glad that Jane could not see her for her cheeks heated up. “I hardly noticed in all the excitement.”

  “Oh, yes. And very tall,” Jane said. “And his eyes were quite striking.” Elizabeth could hear the amusement in her sister’s voice.

  “I had not noticed,” Elizabeth said stubbornly, knowing that she lied.

  “Well, I hope you notice at the Assembly,” Jane said, turning on her side and settling down for sleep. “For I am quite certain that he noticed you.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again. She had no desire to continue this conversation. And besides, Jane was mistaken. There were far more pressing things to notice this night than her. Jane would see the truth of things at the Assembly.

  No, this Mr. Bingley, if that was indeed his name, would take no notice of her. She was certain of it, but could not understand why that made her sad. She closed her eyes and sleep overwhelmed her before she could give the matter any more thought.

  Chapter 4

  Darcy

  Darcy tugged irritably at his jacket, needlessly straightening it. He stuck his finger behind his neckerchief, thinking that Bingley’s manservant had tied it too tight. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his leather shoes pinching his toes. He heaved a great sigh.

  “What is the matter, Darcy?”

  Darcy turned to look at the questioner. Charles Bingley was his greatest friend, and his opposite in almost every way. In appearance, where Darcy was dark, Bingley had light hair and blue eyes. In personality, where Darcy was silent and brooding, Bingley easily conversed and smiled for any, and every, reason. Darcy would have rather stayed home reading than go to the Meryton Assembly, while Bingley was itching to go.

  “My neckerchief is too tight and my shoes too small,” he answered irritably.

  “Your shoes are fine,” Bingley said easily. “And you ordered my man to retie the neckerchief tighter. If it chokes you now, you have only yourself to blame.”

  Darcy sighed, knowing his friend was correct.

  “Please tell me you did not bid me to hurry and visit with the sole intention of making me attend this… ball,” Darcy said, putting as much displeasure into the word “ball” as he possibly could.

  “Would you really believe such a thing of me?” Bingley asked, feigning offence.

  “Yes,” Darcy replied tightly. He knew his friend all too well and Bingley was constantly pushing him to be more social. It had been his idea to get that ridiculous phaeton in the first place.

  “Since you have already decided upon my guilt, there is no point in me defending my innocence,” Bingley said loftily. “So, I will just say this: It will do you much good.”

  “You possess no innocence,” Darcy mumbled darkly.

  “Quite right,” Bingley said with a mischievous grin. When Darcy’s expression did not clear, Bingley sighed. “Please, will you try to have a good time?”

  Darcy said nothing.

  “Come now, these are to be my neighbours,” Bingley continued. “I want to make a good impression.”

  “A pointless exercise if ever there was one,” Caroline Bingley’s voice entered the conversation.

  Darcy turned and saw Bingley’s sisters, Caroline and Mrs. Hurst, sweeping into the room. Both, he noted, were appropriately dressed to meet the king. It seemed that the women wished to ensure the residents of Meryton knew their status.

  “Charles,” Caroline continued, “there is no reason to stoop to their level.”

  Darcy’s mouth tightened at the comment, and he saw Bingley look displeased as well.

  “Come now, Caroline,” Bingley said. “There is no need to say such things.”

  “What?” Caroline asked in mock innocence. “Is there something wrong with stating the truth?” She looked at Darcy. “You, Mr. Darcy, have always known the importance of staying within one’s social circle. Surely, you do not agree with this exercise into… quaint, country living?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  Darcy did not know what to say. Though he disliked Caroline’s imperious attitude and bearing, he could not deny that she had a point about staying within one’s social circle. It was a mark of their station to know such things. However, it seemed Caroline had forgotten that the taint of trade was not gone from her family. Darcy desperately wanted to remind her of this fact, but decided it was not worth the effort.

  “I believe one of the marks of good breeding is how one behaves in the society in which they are placed,” Darcy said, somewhat coldly. “Since Bingley has decided to make Netherfield his home, it is only right for him to be kind and friendly with his neighbours.”

  “Well said, Darcy,” Bingley said with approval.

  Caroline’s eyes flashed, but Darcy did not care if her anger was directed at him. He only put up with both of Bingley’s sisters because of Bingley.

  “Well, I think Caroline is right,” Mrs. Hurst put in. “Charles, neither of us quite understand why you have quit London for this place.”

  “If you cannot appreciate the clean air, wide open spaces, and beauty that surrounds us, then I can hardly hope that you would understand,” Bingley retorted. Darcy got the impression that this was a conversation the three had already had several times. Caroline and Mrs. Hurst both looked displeased.

  “Please,” Bingley begged. “Please, make an effort tonight. You may not understand this place, but you can understand that I am happy here. And to remain happy here, I must be on good terms with everyone.”

  Caroline and Mrs. Hurst stared at him for several long moments before Caroline sighed. “We do want you to be happy,” she conceded. “So, we shall try. Though I still think we have no place in an assembly such as this. There
will be none of our people there.”

  Darcy found himself again agreeing with Caroline’s assessment. He did not like agreeing with her, but she was right. There would be nothing there that would match that which all four of them were accustomed to. Darcy was going for Bingley’s sake, but he did not belong.

  “But we shall try,” Mrs. Hurst agreed, and Bingley’s face broke into a smile once again.

  “You shall see, there will be something there that is worth your effort, I’m certain of it!” Bingley rubbed his hands together. “Now, let us call the carriage and be on our way. We are late already!”

  Mrs. Hurst and Caroline walked ahead of the men, their heads close together in conversation.

  Bingley turned to Darcy with a worried look. “You will try, too?”

  “Of course,” Darcy sighed, stepping into the gathering darkness. “As you said, there will probably be something worth the effort.” Bingley clapped him hard on the shoulder in thanks, then hurried forward to help his sisters into the carriage.

  Perhaps Bingley was correct, Darcy thought as he followed the others into the coach. Perhaps there would be something there that would be enjoyable. Someone.

  Darcy turned red at the thought, but the woman he had rescued several days before had rarely left his mind since. If she were an example of the sort of women that lived in this place, then the Assembly would be very enjoyable. However, he doubted that was the case. Miss Elizabeth Bennet struck him as being entirely unique.

  He had not told Bingley or his sisters of the excitement on the road. He had ridden into Meryton the day before to speak with the magistrate, but Bingley had not accompanied him on that trip. He was not quite certain why, other than he wanted to keep the story to himself for now. Besides, he hated being the centre of attention, even in a small company such as those that lived at Netherfield.

  But he had not forgotten Miss Elizabeth. The prospect at seeing her once more made him forget his too tight shoes and neckerchief, and instead filled him with an unfamiliar sensation: excitement.

  Chapter 5

  Elizabeth

  The Bennets pulled up to the Meryton Assembly, packed tightly into their carriage. They had all borne the admonitions of Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty to not wrinkle their dresses, but in the end, all of them had realised that some rumples were unavoidable.

  Elizabeth, who had Lydia on her lap, was grateful that the short journey was over. Lydia bounced with excitement the entire way, and Elizabeth felt bruised from the movement.

  “Look at all the officers!” Lydia exclaimed, leaping from the carriage and stepping hard on Elizabeth’s foot, but not noticing anything beyond the sea of red coats.

  “There are not enough officers in all the world to tempt me to repeat this journey,” Elizabeth grumbled, rubbing her sore foot.

  “If officers do not tempt you, my girl, then perhaps Mr. Bingley will!” Mrs. Bennet said, a bit too loudly for Elizabeth’s comfort.

  “Mama!” Elizabeth said sharply. “You must not say such things.”

  “And why should I not?” Mrs. Bennet said, she too eagerly examining all of the officers. “You and Jane have already made such a favourable impression, I should be surprised if he does not seek you out immediately.”

  Elizabeth climbed out of the carriage and tried, in vain, to smooth the wrinkles that covered the front of her dress. Her efforts were for naught, and she sighed in vexation.

  “If he does, it will be out of politeness,” Elizabeth said crossly. “To enquire after our health, not because he has fallen violently in love with one or the other of us.”

  “Well, we know that he has not fallen for me,” Jane whispered mischievously in Elizabeth’s ear, far too quietly for anyone else to hear.

  “I shall never forgive you if you put that idea into her head,” Elizabeth whispered back, nodding toward Mrs. Bennet.

  But Mrs. Bennet was not paying attention to them any more, having spotted a friend. Elizabeth knew that she was already launching into the story of her and Jane being caught by highwaymen. It was too much to hope that Mrs. Bennet would leave out the part about being rescued by Mr. Bingley. It was much too good a story.

  “Shall we see if we can find Charlotte?” Elizabeth asked Jane and Mary, everyone else having departed into the crowd.

  “No, thank you,” Mary answered. She pulled a small book from her sash. “I am going to find someplace to read. Please do not tell Mama where I’ve gone.”

  Elizabeth nodded her agreement, knowing that Mrs. Bennet would force Mary to dance if she were found. Mary hated dancing. Mary hated balls. In fact, Elizabeth realised, Mary disliked most things.

  “I hope she hides well,” Jane said, watching Mary weave through the crowd. “Mama will be most unhappy if she finds her reading alone.”

  “Too true,” Elizabeth agreed. “We’d best go in as well. Mama will be equally displeased with us if we do not make ourselves available to the throngs of available bachelors swarming the Assembly tonight.” She put a ridiculous tone on her statement because she believed her mother’s obsession with matchmaking was truly silly.

  Jane smiled and they made their way inside.

  Elizabeth searched the crowd, her eyes open for any sign of their dear friend, Charlotte Lucas. If she happened to see the stranger from a few days before, that was just the nature of balls such as this. So many people all together, one could hardly plan who they would see and when. Elizabeth blushed at her thoughts.

  “Lizzy!” She heard her name and turned towards the voice. “Jane!” Charlotte Lucas was pushing her way towards them, politely apologizing to everyone she passed. Finally, she reached them, breathing slightly hard. “Lizzy, your face is bright red,” Charlotte said in greeting. “Have I missed something exciting?”

  Elizabeth put her hand to her face, and quickly said, “Oh, it is the heat. It is amazing how hot it becomes when there are this many people!”

  Charlotte nodded her agreement.

  “I’m glad, for what I hear, you have had quite enough excitement! Highwaymen, I cannot even imagine!”

  “Where did you hear that?” Jane asked as Elizabeth’s heart sunk.

  “Your mother told my mother as soon as they met,” Charlotte explained. “Is it true that Mr. Bingley rescued you?” Elizabeth’s face flushed again.

  “No!” She said quickly.

  “Yes,” Jane said at the same instant. Charlotte looked from one of them to the other.

  “Perhaps,” Elizabeth amended. “I cannot remember the name he gave, but my mother has decided that it must have been Mr. Bingley.”

  “There is evidence supporting that conclusion,” Jane said fairly.

  “Well, he made no mention of the incident when he met my father yesterday,” Charlotte said. “Not that it means anything, for what reason would he have to tell such a story?”

  “Have you met him, then?” Jane asked.

  Elizabeth moved closer, eager to hear what Charlotte said. She had good reason to be curious about the man.

  “No,” Charlotte said. “But my father says that he is an easy-going man, kind, with a quick smile and a quick laugh. Does that sound like the man you met?”

  “Maybe,” Elizabeth said slowly. In truth, it sounded nothing like the man they had met. Elizabeth had not seen the man smile at all, let alone laugh. And he hardly seemed like someone described as “easy-going.” “But the situation in which we met was hardly one that would have allowed the qualities you describe to be seen.”

  “I should think not,” Charlotte said with a shiver. “I cannot imagine such a horrible situation. I am so relieved that you are safe.” She squeezed both sisters’ hands affectionately. Something over Elizabeth’s shoulder seemed to catch Charlotte’s eye. “I have not met the mysterious Mr. Bingley, but I should think that is him now.”

  Elizabeth turned quickly and saw a party of four walking into the crowd uncertainly. People turned to stare at them, turning and whispering to their friends as they passed. But what
caught Elizabeth’s attention so firmly, was the tall, dark-haired man wearing a dark green jacket. It was the man they had met on that awful night.

  “It seems that our saviour was, indeed, Mr. Bingley,” Jane murmured softly.

  “Do not tell Mama she was right,” Elizabeth whispered back, her eyes still on the party. “We will never hear the end of it.”

  Charlotte laughed softly at this, but Elizabeth was still distracted. The women with Mr. Bingley were dressed in the finest clothing Elizabeth had ever seen in Hertfordshire. They would not have been out of place in fashionable London, or even Paris, but here, they looked like two beautiful roses among so many daisies. The man with Mr. Bingley was not quite as tall as he, had light hair and was clearly delighted with everything he saw.

  Mr. Bingley was slowly examining the room, and Elizabeth held her breath as his eyes passed over her. Except they did not pass her over. As soon as his gaze fell upon her and Jane, he stopped and stared. Then, he bent his head to his companion’s ear and began to walk towards them.

  “It seems Mr. Bingley wishes to reacquaint himself with us,” Jane said neutrally, smoothing the front of her dress.

  “It is polite,” Elizabeth replied quickly, but could not say anything else before the group was in earshot. Quickly, Elizabeth dropped into a curtsy to greet the newcomers. She felt Jane and Charlotte join her.

  “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Jane,” the dark-haired man said, bowing to them both. “I am quite pleased to find that you are well.”

  “Quite well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied, standing straight once more. “Please allow me to introduce our friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas. Miss Lucas, Mr. Bingley.”

  For some reason, the pale-haired man bowed and responded.

  “A pleasure, Miss Lucas,” the man said. He turned to Elizabeth and Jane. “Though, I apologise, I do not recall making your acquaintance.”

  Confusion swamped over Elizabeth, quickly replaced by humiliation. The dark-haired man was not Mr. Bingley! This smiling, blue-eyed stranger was. She suddenly wished she could disappear forever.