Page 31 of Searching for Elizabeth (A Pride and Prejudice Variation)
—the next evening—
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy dressed in their very best for an evening at the theater. Darcy’s very best was not so different from his usual, although his coat was very dark blue rather than black, and his waistcoat was the same shade of blue with subtle black stripes. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was wearing a very elegant gown the likes of which she had never worn before. It was deep green, and she wore simple but beautiful emerald jewelry that sparkled like her brown/green/golden eyes.
The couple attracted an enormous amount of attention. Naturally, one of the reasons so many gazed at them for so long was because they were an uncommonly handsome couple. A more important reason was that Darcy had been, according to the mamas in the ton, on the marriage mart for seven years, and it was an enormous shock to everyone when he married a gentlewoman who was not only below him in wealth and connections (according to rumors), but was also someone never before seen at routs or musicales or balls…or anywhere!
So, many a glance seemed to convey, who is this young woman who came from nowhere at all and snatched up one of our very best???
Darcy was uncomfortable being stared at, and almost certainly gossiped about, by so many. But Elizabeth laughed up into his eyes, and murmured endearments, and one time even dared to lean on him in a most suggestive way, when the crush of the crowd shielded the move from all. Thus she managed to distract him from his nerves, and he thanked her with dimple-flashing smiles and adoring gazes.
The Duke of Brookheart insisted on an introduction even though he was determined to look down his nose at Elizabeth; the Duchess literally sniffed in her direction. Elizabeth’s bright smile never wavered, however, and though her curtsey was suitably deep and her words of greeting were perfect, when she looked back up at Darcy, her eyes were dancing with the laughter she was stifling. Darcy went from wooden impassivity as he regarded the titled snobs to a besotted smile as he took in his bride’s response to said snobs.
Lord Westfield and his countess, on the other hand, seemed surprisingly friendly, complimenting Darcy on his charming wife and even hinting that the disapproval on display was jealousy.
“I can see that this is a love match,”
the Countess Westfield said in a low voice.
Elizabeth also responded with equanimity to several young women who endeavored to pretend an intimacy with Darcy. At one point, Miss Anne Hampton greeted Darcy eagerly, fluttered her eyelashes at him, cooed that she was so very happy to see him again, mentioned a house party that they so enjoyed, together, and even reached her hand to him, as if requesting a kiss on the hand. Elizabeth watched while his “mask”
shuttered his eyes; he responded politely but minimally, he briefly touched Miss Hampton’s hand with his own, and then he openly took Elizabeth’s hand in his, clutching it and lifting it to his lips. As he proceeded to introduce the ladies, Elizabeth smiled kindly at Miss Hampton and said, “It is always so nice for me to meet a friend of Fitzwilliam’s.”
Miss Hampton’s eyes were riveted on Darcy kissing his wife’s hand, and she snatched her own hand back and blushed. She rallied a bit and said, “Yes, we are very dear friends. Very longtime, dear friends.”
Miss Hampton finally moved far enough away for Darcy to say to Elizabeth, “I guess we are very dear friends because I danced with her one time three years ago and ignored her during the entirety of the house party she mentioned, two years ago.”
He shook his head, clearly bothered by the encounter, but Elizabeth murmured, “She may truly have had hopes for you, darling. And why would she not? You are the best of men, and tolerably handsome as well.”
Elizabeth won a more relaxed husband and a huge grin for her efforts, and many onlookers gasped at the unfamiliar sight of Mr. Darcy smiling.
During one encounter, however, it was Elizabeth who lost her smile: she spotted Bingley dressed in a cobalt blue coat and tri-colored waistcoat, looking just as handsome as ever and smiling just as broadly as ever. He hurried over to Darcy and Elizabeth and greeted them with his usual amiable manner. And then he introduced them to the woman on his arm. Sarah Coddingsworth was tall, slender, blond, and graceful. She had a serene smile and a soft voice as she said, “How do you do?”
with a graceful curtsey.
Elizabeth was everything polite and even moderately warm, but she did not much approve of Bingley, and she did not quite manage to pretend to do so. Darcy squeezed her hand, comforting her as she had him. When they finally reached the privacy of their box, Darcy asked, “Are you well?”
Elizabeth sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Yes, I suppose that I am. I was so sure I knew how Jane and Mr. Bingley felt about one another, and I am now sure I misread both of them. I feel I shall never be able to trust my judgment about people again.”
The box darkened in a signal that the play was about to start, and Darcy took advantage of the privacy to remove their gloves and interlock their fingers. He even kissed her chastely a few times. He whispered to her, “I do not think your judgement has been totally askew, Elizabeth. I believe that your sister and Bingley liked each other very much. Your only mistake was assuming that they felt the kind of love that would brook no barriers, that would overcome all obstacles. This ardency, this constancy, that I feel for you, and that I sense you might feel for me, is not necessarily commonplace. Who knows? It may be that many people, including Jane and Bingley, do not even have the capacity for such a deep passion.”
It was certain that Darcy and Elizabeth nurtured, that night, their own deep passion in subtle and covert ways, while at the theater, and in much more exuberant ways when they returned home.