Page 37

Netherfield Drawing Room - Elizabeth

A s Elizabeth observed her younger sisters’ carefree laughter through the open door, the weight of her decision pressed upon her. They had no idea how close they were to ruin.

Elizabeth wiped her eyes just before she entered the room. She was relieved to see that no one in the room had noticed her disappearance or sudden reappearance. Jane was laughing at something Mr Bingley had just said, her eyes alive with delight.

Elizabeth took her place next to her sister and smiled in a reassuring way. Jane hardly noticed, as her attention was fixed so completely on Mr Bingley. Elizabeth could not blame her - she had enough to worry about.

Elizabeth watched Jane and Mr Bingley, their mutual affection evident.

How different her own situation was - a marriage of necessity, not love.

It was while she was watching them as they spoke of Town that the thought occurred to her.

She did not know where it had come from, in a way she knew that she had always known it.

It was time to face the truth of her situation.

They could continue like this indefinitely but nothing would change.

Even if Mr Bingley proposed to Jane tonight, it would not solve their problems. Her father would still be dying.

Mr Collins would still have his legal claim to her hand - a broken engagement could result in a ruinous lawsuit for breach of promise, destroying what little security her family had left.

And even if she dared to break her engagement, what then?

Mr Darcy had made no offer of marriage - indeed, how could he?

No honourable gentleman would propose to a woman already engaged to another.

The best she could hope for would be to become a cautionary tale: the foolish girl who jilted her respectable fiancé for a man who might never be free to marry her.

The scandal would make her unmarriageable, and by association would taint her sisters’ prospects as well.

Mr Darcy, whatever his feelings, would be honour-bound to distance himself and his innocent sister from such a scandal.

There was no honourable escape. Once a woman gave her word to marry, she was bound both legally and morally to follow through.

Elizabeth knew her choice would confound many, but with her father’s health declining and the estate entailed away, Mr Collins represented security for her entire family. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Elizabeth glanced at the settee where Mr Collins had fallen asleep. Even in slumber, he seemed to take up more space than necessary

Jane and Mr Bingley deserved time, their courtship should not be rushed, they had only known each other for a few months.

There was no way out, and she had chosen this with her eyes open.

For once she would do what her mother had advised, she had to forget Mr Darcy and focus on the life ahead of her and be happy with the happiness of her family.

Lydia came towards her, her eyes alive with delight. “Lizzy, what fun this was! It is so much nicer to have a small dance arranged than going to dinner and dancing as an afterthought. Do not you think so?”

Elizabeth smiled and agreed with her youngest sister as she glanced again at Jane and Mr Bingley. She did not allow herself to look in Mr Darcy’s direction, she knew where he was without looking. She could almost sense his presence.

Lydia giggled, nodding towards the sleeping Mr Collins. “At least Lizzy, you don’t have to dance with him now. Though I dare say he’s less boring asleep than awake.”

* * *

Netherfield Balcony - Darcy

Darcy released his grip on her arm. Watched as she ran from him as fast as she could. Her face turned from him. Darcy could not believe what had just taken place. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his emotions get out of control?

But he had to know. It was more than he could stand to see that odious little man be anywhere near Elizabeth.

It was pure hell, not only to watch Mr Collins taking liberties with her, no that was bad enough.

Knowing that it was Mr Collins and not himself that was the one who was so permitted.

To call her by her Christian name and to hold her hand.

It was Mr Collins who she had promised to marry and not him.

And the thing that haunted his dreams was what liberties Mr Collins would take in the future.

He knew that dwelling on these thoughts would not do him any good.

He needed a glass of port. He followed Elizabeth into the other room, keeping his expression as blank as possible.

He was grateful that no one noticed that her eyes were red and that his voice was not quite his own.

Not that he spoke to anyone for several minutes.

He was tempted to go and speak to her again before she left for the evening, and he was about to give into the temptation when the realisation that he had nothing to say dawned on him.

He had no explanation to give, no excuse to make.

His behaviour was inexcusable. She was right, this was his fault as his alone.

She was in an impossible situation, her father was dying, her mother and sisters would be penniless.

She had made a choice. She had set aside her own happiness for theirs.

She had sacrificed herself for them. He sighed deeply, what a fool he had been, to allow her lack of connections, the behaviour of her mother and younger sisters to influence his forming designs on her sooner.

It was only when he had discovered the engagement that he had realised his own feelings for her.

And now, when all hope seemed lost to him, they would drive him mad by what has been.

She was also as lost to him as she could ever be.

He doubted that they would ever share any more of those intimate moments that he had come to rely on.

He should have acted sooner. If only he had not been as cold, if he had been as easy as Bingley.

He had thought his friend was a fool, but he realised that it was he that was the fool and not Bingley.

No Bingley would be happy with her sister.

His attentions had been so marked that no one could have doubted him.

If only he, Darcy, had acted in a similar manner it might have been one of her younger sisters, upon whom Mr Collins had decided, and she would have been blissfully free.

But such thoughts only seemed to serve in tormenting him.

He watched her, unable to prevent himself.

He caught her eye, once, very briefly. She looked away and said something to her sister, Mary.

She did not so much as look in his direction for the rest of the evening.

She spoke little to anyone. Mr Collins had woken up again, and was sitting by her side, speaking solemnly to her.

Darcy sipped his coffee, although it may as well have been muddy water for all he tasted of it, he just wanted the evening to be over, for it to ever have taken place.

He had reduced the woman he loved to tears, and had forced her to say what he knew and had only brought pain to both of them.

He was not sure he would be able to live with himself after that.

He was determined not to allow her to go home without attempting to make amends and he got his chance just before the Longbourn party left.

The younger girls were getting their wraps, and gloves.

Bingley was speaking quietly to a blushing Jane Bennet.

Elizabeth was standing alone at the end of the room looking at the sleeping form of Mr Collins.

He approached her carefully, like she was a horse that might startle if he moved too suddenly. He did not know what he was planning on saying to her, but she broke the silence.

“It would be better if you left, Mr Darcy.”

He stared at her, hardly able to understand what she was saying, for it was so foreign to him.

“Hertfordshire, I meant.”

“If that is what you wish, madam, then I will of course leave.”

She nodded mutely, not meeting his eye. “It will be simpler.”

He knew then that he had lost her. She would marry Mr Collins. There was nothing he could do. “Then please allow me to wish you every happiness.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to go and then paused. He could not allow, he could not permit her to suffer any more than she had to. If there was anything he could do to relieve her pain, then he would do it .

“Miss Elizabeth, I will leave, but only once you have made me a promise.”

* * *

Netherfield Drawing Room - Bingley

Bingley was concerned about his friend. Darcy had never been the most social creature, but he was becoming the most unsocial person Bingley knew.

He had not joined in the dancing once. It was a pity that Mr Collins was in the neighbourhood this evening, but really, he could not dance with Elizabeth Bennet all evening.

He had noticed that they had both disappeared for a few minutes at the same time. But not thought too much of it until he had seen Elizabeth Bennet’s face when she had returned to the room, and seen Darcy’s lack of expression.

Something had passed between them, but he was not likely to find out what it was. He glanced at Jane Bennet, and saw that she too had noticed her sister’s face but was choosing not to say anything about it. He followed her lead and talked of Town.