Page 5 of Rumours & Recklessness (Sweet Escapes Collection #1)

Chapter 4

E lizabeth ran as hard as she could down to the stream behind the house. Since she was a little girl, this place had been a solace and a refuge for all her childish hurts and cares. When she had grown old enough to walk out on her own, she had discovered the joys of other places, more distant. Still, this retreat, so close to her own home, had retained its place as first in her heart. Throwing herself down on the bank, she gave way to her sobs.

Why did things have to become so complicated? Had it only been Mr Collins, Elizabeth felt certain she could have stood up to him in her refusal. He was thick-headed, but eventually, she would have made her point. But to have assumed her cooperation, in front of so many witnesses—including their neighbours! It could not have been more ill-timed. Elizabeth angrily flung a stone into the creek. It landed with a satisfying splash.

Inspired, she stood to her feet and found a larger rock. She heaved it into the deepest part of the stream and waited for the deep Thunk! it made. She found three or four other palm-sized stones, and one after another, they too found their way into the stream bed. Her frustrations abated somewhat, she felt drained and depressed.

Once again, she dropped onto the bank, this time a little more properly seating herself on a great flat rock rather than the muddy shore. The tears flowed freely then, tumbling through her fingers as she covered her face. What had possessed Mr Darcy to claim they were engaged? The audacity of the man! He was no better than Mr Collins, simply announcing what she was to do and expecting her compliance! The conceited arrogance of his actions was beyond even what she could have thought him capable of. Does he try to run everyone’s life? Of course, the powerful Mr Darcy expects everyone to kowtow to his wishes because of his ten thousand a year and his wonderful Pemberley! Well, I will not, and he cannot make me!

Elizabeth’s fierce anger melted into dejected self-pity. She was no fool. She knew that her reputation would be in irreparable tatters by the end of the day if she refused. Was it worth it? Taking a deep gasping breath, she tried to calm herself enough to think. If only I could talk to Papa! Yet… what if her papa never recovered? Had she any right to fling away any chance to save her family? Fear trembled in her breast, and her sobs racked her body.

Her piteous thoughts were interrupted by a fine white handkerchief materializing over her shoulder. Without even glancing up, she knew that the hand holding it belonged to Mr Darcy. She tried to ignore it, but he sat down rather indecorously on the rock next to her and pressed it into her unwilling fingers.

“I do not wish for company at present, sir .” She kept her voice from wavering quite admirably.

“Miss Bennet,” his normally clipped tones were softened with sympathy. “We must talk. I humbly apologize for having offended you. I only wished to be of help.”

Her sharp eyes turned on him. “ Help ?” she sputtered incredulously. “You fabricated an engagement! Without ever considering my sentiments, you announced to my entire family that we… that you… that I had accepted a proposal! One which you had never uttered, and certainly never gave any prior indication of!” She turned her face back toward the stream, clamping her mouth shut before she could hurl the insulting and unbecoming words that she longed to express. “How could you do it, sir?” The anguish quavered in her voice.

There was silence between them for a long moment. Risking a glance sideways, she could plainly see his face wreathed in turmoil. Let him suffer a little longer, she thought smugly. Knowing him to be a man of few words, she savagely decided she was going to enjoy watching him try to talk his way out of this one.

At length, his voice came, the words forming slowly at first, then building in fervency. “In vain, I have struggled, and it will not do. My feelings compelled me to speak. Miss Bennet, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you! I know that in declaring myself as I have done, I have gone against the express wishes of my family and my own original intentions, but it is done, and I do not regret it. Almost from the first moments of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a—a passionate admiration and regard. You know, of course, that the relative positions of our families make such an alliance a highly reprehensible connection. I have regarded it so myself—your family’s want of propriety and low status I had considered insurmountable obstacles to my forming any serious designs upon you, much as I might have desired otherwise. I confess that I cannot rejoice in the inferiority of your connections, but under the present circumstances, it cannot be helped. I beg you, please, to relieve my suffering and agree to become my wife.”

Elizabeth had received so many shocks in one day that this final blow absolutely took her breath away. Her outraged fury was checked only by her stunned incredulity. She searched his expression and found no evidence of this alleged internal struggle. Indeed, he seemed quite assured. She shook her head slowly in disbelief. How far was he going to take this insulting charade?

Darcy watched her carefully; his hope buoyed on the rising tide of his passionate feelings. He had done it, he satisfied himself. Since his rash words had necessitated the confession of his love, he finally allowed himself to thrill in the thought of her. He put his misgivings behind himself. His family might expect a fashionable woman of the ton, with fortune and standing, but he had been fooling himself for years to think he could ever find the kind of love match he desired there. There was only one Elizabeth. Hang it all, I will be happy!

But why would the eloquent Elizabeth Bennet be finally struck speechless? Her dark eyes flew wide, and her delicate lips parted in amazement. Certainly, he thought, I must have entirely surprised her with the honour of my proposal. Of course, modest as she is, perhaps she was not expecting it after all! Surely, she must have felt my regard for her, but her estimable good sense would not allow false hope. Wise, discreet woman!

Overcome with tenderness, he wished to reassure her of the sincerity of his feelings. Darcy leaned toward her and at last claimed those luscious lips as his own. Cupping his hand behind her deliciously unruly curls, he melded his mouth to hers, shivering with the sublime contact. Elizabeth was his at last.

A firm hand pushed violently against his chest, and he found himself propelled roughly away from her lovely face. Her other hand raised, and she slapped him soundly across the left cheek.

“Miss Bennet, what is the meaning of this?” He put his hand to his throbbing face. Darcy had been punched by men and slashed by sabres as a sporting man, but never slapped by a woman. He could scarcely credit her petite frame with the kind of strength she possessed.

She bolted to her feet, trembling with rage. He followed, more uncertainly. “How dare you, sir?” she cried.

He took his hand away from his face, instinctively glancing to see if she had drawn blood. Fortunately, she had not, but the insistent sting of her strike would take some time to fade. “Pardon me? May I remind you, Miss Bennet, we are engaged! There was nothing improper!”

“We are most certainly not engaged, Mr Darcy!”

“Miss Elizabeth, please, be reasonable. I know I took liberties. I beg you to forgive me, but there is no call to take such offence under the circumstances. I might wonder why you would treat me with such incivility,” he returned, a little stiffly.

Her eyes began to fill with tears again. “And I might wonder why you would choose to tell me you loved me against your will? Is that not some excuse? But I have other reasons to dislike you. You know I have!”

“Reasons? What reasons?” he demanded, his anger growing.

She took a gulp of air, fighting for composure. “Do you think any consideration could tempt me to marry a man who would declare an engagement without my consent? Who would presumptuously demand I cooperate, regardless of my own wishes, simply because I have not at present the protection of my father to tender my refusal?”

“Refusal? You cannot be serious!”

She gritted her teeth and took a threatening step closer. “I am quite serious, Mr Darcy. From our earliest acquaintance, I was impressed by your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others!”

Darcy was reeling with shock. Elizabeth was… refusing him? And she thought him selfish and conceited? He stared, open-mouthed, as she continued her litany against him.

“In our every meeting, you have shown yourself to be the most ungentlemanly of men! I have long believed you to be the most prideful man of my acquaintance, and you have certainly proved it today with your callous disregard for my sentiments! You bully, and you insult, and this is the behaviour of a gentleman? Yet even before today’s events, my opinion of your character was decided when I heard Mr Wickham’s tale of your dealings with him!”

Wickham! Again! Blast that reprobate! “You take an eager interest in that man’s concerns!” he snarled.

“Who that has heard his misfortunes could not take an interest?” Elizabeth resented Darcy’s insinuation. She was not in love with Wickham, but at present, the latter man’s company would have been a great relief.

“His misfortunes ! Yes, they are great, indeed!” Darcy’s voice wrung with sarcasm.

“And of your infliction!” she cried back, affronted that Darcy could even yet deny his infidelity regarding a man of his father’s affections. “You have deprived him of the advantages which were designed for him, disregarding the will of your own father and leaving him destitute!”

His eyes narrowed menacingly. “What could you possibly know of my father?”

Her face sparkled with righteous indignation. “I know that his son is the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!” With that, she turned on her heel and sped back to the house.

J ane and Mr Bingley had indeed toured the garden together, but as it happened, the garden was rather small. Feeling they ought to act as chaperones for the newly “engaged” couple, they bent their steps toward the stream when the audible splashing of stones revealed Elizabeth’s location. They remained a discreet distance away, but they were near enough to see everything, had their inclinations tended toward such a vicarious amusement.

Jane cautiously revealed to Mr Bingley that Elizabeth was unlikely to take this engagement talk with equanimity. Without actually admitting that her sister stoutly disliked his friend, she tried to prepare the man she favoured for what was likely to be a very turbulent period in her family.

Bingley laughed. “I admire Miss Elizabeth’s spirit. She will need it in spades to stand up to Darcy! He has long needed someone to set him down. Darcy is the finest man of my acquaintance, Miss Bennet, but he is not entirely without fault, as none of us are. Miss Elizabeth possesses every virtue that he lacks, I believe. I am surprised I had not seen it before, but Miss Elizabeth may well be the perfect match for him. I confess, I look forward to seeing how things will play out.”

Jane was not so certain. She was quite sure that her sister would fight the marriage kicking and screaming, but she knew as well as everyone else that by now, there was little else to be done. Even should their father wake this hour, he would not be able to undo the reports already spread abroad, some even by his own wife. She only hoped that Lizzy had been entirely wrong in her opinion of Mr Darcy and that she might come to see that… very soon.

A sudden shout from the direction of the stream diverted their attention. Darcy and Elizabeth were both standing up now, the gentleman holding his face. It was obvious they were exchanging heated words. They could not make out much of what was said, but they could hear the fevered pitch of Elizabeth’s anger and the restrained fury in Darcy’s voice. Jane groaned. Oh, Lizzy, must you make this so difficult?

She dared a glance at Bingley, but instead of reflecting horror, his face was showered in unbridled delight. “Indeed, Miss Bennet, your sister is a marvel! I say, no one ever tells him what-for! I’ve feared for years he would fall prey to some simple-minded woman of fashion who will agree with everything he says. Miss Elizabeth will keep him on his toes. What a fearsome thing it will be to behold!”

They watched in helpless wonder the grand finale when Elizabeth delivered her blistering valedictory riposte. Her voice was raised clearly enough for them to hear every word she said. Jane sighed painfully. “Oh, Lizzy….”

She looked up to Mr Bingley, her face apologetic. He smiled encouragingly back at her. “Do not worry, Miss Bennet. I will collect my friend, and we will call tomorrow, or perhaps yet again this evening. Please send word if there is any change in your father’s condition, or…” he glanced toward the house, “... any other developments.” He smilingly raised her fingers to his lips and daringly brushed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Jane blushed prettily as he took his leave.

E lizabeth flounced up the stairs, angrily making as much noise as she could. Her mother’s door stood ajar. Perfect… she is gone to Meryton to brag about my conquest. It is too late to stop her—I will have to set her right when she returns! Elizabeth sought refuge in the only place that made sense.

Mary looked up from her book when Elizabeth softly opened the door. She clenched her fists and locked her arms by her sides, struggling to calm herself for her father’s sake. “How is he?” Hope shone in her eyes.

Mary stood with perfect equanimity. “He is the same. Mrs Hill brought some broth, and we got him to drink some. Mr Jones has not yet returned.”

Elizabeth sat hard in the chair next to Mary’s, blocking Mary’s exit from the room and forcing her younger sister to sit back down. Mary was not often the most observant of people. She could see that her sister was upset, but she did not trouble herself to investigate. The assumption that their father’s condition accounted for all of Elizabeth’s irritability sufficed for her.

Mary resumed her reading while Elizabeth stared hopefully at her father’s rising chest. Please, Papa, wake up! I need your help! We all need you. She closed her eyes, and tears began to tumble down her cheeks.

“Why do you not use your handkerchief? There is no sense in making your eyes puffy or spoiling your gown with the drips,” Mary observed practically.

Elizabeth looked down at Mr Darcy’s handkerchief, still clutched between her fingers. She had forgotten about it. Her eyes blurred, and she acquiesced. Once she could see clearly, she began to examine the cloth. It was very fine and embroidered simply with his initials in brilliant blue. FD

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the even stitching, wondering vaguely if Mr Darcy’s mysterious younger sister had worked this for him. She felt sorry for the girl, stuck with such a proud, disagreeable older brother as her only relation. Well, almost her only relation. Elizabeth’s lip curled when she remembered there was evidently a noble aunt and cousin. Then again, according to Mr Wickham, Miss Darcy was just as arrogant and unpleasant as her brother and surely did not want or need her pity. Another Miss Bingley, no doubt.

Her thoughts rumbled turbulently between the two most offensive men she had ever met. Complete opposites that they were, both had tried to claim her in marriage that very morning, without the warning of a courtship or even the courtesy of a private audience. She still felt certain that she could have eventually rebuffed Mr Collins, even without her father's support and heartily against her mother’s wishes.

Mr Darcy, on the other hand, was not a man to be gainsaid. He was certainly used to having his way. What, then, would have possessed him to propose to me? she silently demanded again. We cannot stand each other! He barely speaks to me, and I have been anything but deferential to him. Surely, he should have been looking for that perfect woman of accomplishment of whom I have heard him speak. I should have expected him to marry one who is just as proud as he is, who would never trouble him with disagreement!

Elizabeth grimaced. She hated to think of having to be in company with whatever woman Mr Darcy deemed worthy of himself. He had been quite clear that she was not that woman, with her low connections and lack of sophistication! And what else was it? Her family he despised, and she —why, she was barely tolerable!

Anger seethed through her very pores. She could almost spitefully accept his proposal with the single intention of making his life miserable, but the thought of spending the rest of her days with the staid and silent Darcy was a depressing one. What would Miss Bingley give to be in my shoes! Even the temptation of teasing Miss Bingley lost all its lustre. What am I to do?

“I t seems we have worn out our welcome, old friend!” Bingley’s jovial tones caused Darcy to turn. “We had best be… Darce?” Bingley studied his closest friend’s face. He would have expected outraged anger or silent, boiling resentfulness. Instead, Darcy looked utterly stricken. His face was ashen, his eyes stark and staring.

“Forgive me, Bingley…” Darcy’s voice was hushed, his words uncertain. “I am afraid I am not fit company at present. Excuse me.” He brushed past his friend, his purposeful strides eating the distance to the stables.

Bingley’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently, Miss Elizabeth’s rebukes had completely rattled Darcy’s usual composure. He watched Darcy gallop away without a backward glance. He did not go in the direction of Netherfield but off in what appeared to be a random path.

Charles Bingley was faced with a dilemma. He had convinced himself that the morning’s developments really were for the best. If marriage were more than a convenient business arrangement—if the characters of the individuals involved should be considered to be compatible and complimentary, Miss Elizabeth was everything Darcy should be looking for.

Certainly, she had almost no dowry, no moneyed connections, but what was that to a man who already possessed fortune and status in abundance? She was sprightly and vibrant, and she might do much to enliven his dour friend. He, on the other hand, could provide her with all the security and dignity a woman could desire, and Darcy was not the kind of man who would mistreat his wife. She was clever—intimidatingly so—but so was Darcy. Certainly, with their equally active minds, they could learn to respect one another.

He frowned. Respect could not develop when they could not overcome their mutual stubbornness. He could understand why Miss Elizabeth would be angry at the morning’s events, but it seemed Darcy had done little to assuage her fury. From all appearances, they had only succeeded in baiting each other until an explosion finished all discourse.

Heaving a discouraged sigh, Bingley called for his own horse and began a slow jog back to Netherfield. Darcy was affronted and obstinate, but Elizabeth was perhaps even more so! Bingley, who detested conflict, did not wish to see Miss Jane’s sister end in disgrace. He predicted woefully that the very thing would surely occur if they did not settle their differences. All of Meryton must be abuzz with the news of their “engagement,” thanks to the wagging tongues of Elizabeth’s own family.

Mulling over his options, Charles Bingley made an unaccustomed bold decision—the first of many over the next few days. He resolved to save this engagement. It would most assuredly require him to involve another party, as the present troubles seemed beyond his meagre skills. Who could sway the implacable Darcy to overlook his indignation and apologize? Who possessed the diplomacy and sweetness which would surely be required to convince Miss Elizabeth of Darcy’s worth? He had no doubt of an ally in Jane, but Jane could not honestly claim to know Darcy any better than Elizabeth herself. Bingley smiled as he hit upon the perfect solution. Miss Georgiana!

Darcy would be furious at him for overstepping his authority and involving his sister, but perhaps it would be enough to distract his anger from Miss Elizabeth. Their enduring friendship could weather that storm. Bingley knew she was staying at Darcy’s London house. It would be improper to write her directly, but he also knew Darcy would not leave Georgiana completely alone. Colonel Fitzwilliam would be near at hand. He determined to write the colonel with his regiment in London at once.

A soft knock on the door brought Jane’s sweet face into their father’s room. Elizabeth sighed gratefully. While sitting with Mary, she had tried to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was blissfully unaware of the morning’s happenings, and Elizabeth would be the last to admit to them. Still, she needed a sympathetic ear, and outside their father, there was no one dearer to her than Jane.

Mary appeared relieved to be able to escape Elizabeth’s glowering presence. She took up her book and hastily retreated, leaving Jane to claim her seat. They sat in silence for a few moments, each waiting for the other to break the stillness.

Jane noted the handkerchief Elizabeth was twisting between her fingers. She wrung it viciously, as though wishing to inflict the same punishment on the owner as on the article. With a desperate silent prayer, she ventured a beginning. “Lizzy, I am so sorry about… well, you know.”

Elizabeth laughed bitterly. “Why, Jane, there is no need to pity me. Did you not know, I have suitors falling all over me today! What woman would not be delighted? You ought instead to be petitioning me for the privilege of visiting the great Pemberley! Mama is doubtlessly already planning my first ball for me. Do you know, I will now be able to throw our younger sisters into the way of other rich men!”

“Dearest Lizzy, Mr Darcy did not mean to hurt you. Really, would you prefer that right now, our mother was announcing your engagement to Mr Collins?”

Elizabeth groaned. “I could prefer a mother and sisters who could claim some measure of discretion! To not have my private affairs bandied about as vulgar gossip to entertain our silly acquaintances, that would be ideal. But as that is not to be my lot… Oh, Jane!” she sobbed.

Jane placed a comforting arm around her sister as Elizabeth gave way to tears. “Darling Lizzy, I am sure Mr Darcy is not so unpleasant as you have believed. You know Mr Bingley thinks very highly of him, and they have been close friends for many years. He could not be so deceived in his friend’s temperament. Surely there has been some great misunderstanding! I believe your Mr Darcy will in time be shown to be a very amiable gentleman.”

“He is not my Mr Darcy, Jane,” Elizabeth lashed out. “I will not marry him! How could I? You did not hear how arrogant he was! Oh, yes, he was very clear that I was unworthy of his lofty status. He claimed to have feelings for me, but Jane, how could such a conceited man truly care for anyone but himself? He is only trying to salve his guilt at interfering in my affairs. Egotistical, stubborn man! How could he claim the right to meddle in my life and demand I accede to his wishes? I would rather remain an old maid!”

Jane laughed lightly. “Lizzy, you say so now. Pray, remember that you almost were stuck with our cousin! At least Mr Darcy’s person is pleasing, and he is intelligent. I know you delight in teasing him. Surely you could find sources of amusement as the wife of Mr Darcy.”

“Oh, Jane, I tease him because I cannot do otherwise! He deserves to be shaken up a little. Everyone treats him with such unmerited deference! He is so smug, so certain of his superiority. Truly, I cannot imagine having to converse with him for the rest of my life. He scarcely opens his lips! He is so insufferably dull and aggravating!”

Jane’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Lizzy, I think Mr Darcy may like your teasing. I have never thought him so very arrogant, you know. I think rather that he may be just shy. Mr Bingley does not think him prideful, and he knows him better than anyone else here. You know that Miss Bingley likes to distract him when he does speak. I am sure he does not enjoy it. I think he does not like so much attention as he gets.”

“That is the most uncharitable thing I have ever heard you say about Miss Bingley, Jane. Brava! I am sure you are wrong about Mr Darcy, though. I believe he thinks very highly of himself and no one else. I have told you how he wronged Mr Wickham, and he did not deny it when I tasked him with the facts today!”

“Oh, Lizzy, you did not!” Jane gasped, appalled.

“Indeed, I did. I needed to know,” Elizabeth shrugged practically. “I could never marry a man who would behave so dishonourably! If it is not true, let him deny it! Until then, I believe the virtue is all Mr Wickham’s.”

“Lizzy, do be careful,” Jane urged seriously. “You are determined to convict a man whom many others believe to be honourable based on the testimony of one person, whose credibility it seems is only in his pleasing countenance. We do not know the particulars.”

“Indeed, we do, or enough to cast a shadow of doubt on the impeccable Mr Darcy’s reputation. Besides, even without Mr Wickham’s testimony, I know Mr Darcy to be vain and egotistical. Why else would he simply announce before everyone that I had agreed to marry him? The impudence of the man!”

Jane shook her head. The conversation was going in circles. It was hopeless to talk sense into her sister when she was so justly riled. Perhaps when she had time to cool down, she would be more reasonable. In the meanwhile, there was nothing to do but tend to their father, attempt to control the excitement of their mother, and at all costs avoid Mr Collins.