Page 2

26th November 1812, Tuesday

Darcy did not stay until the end of the ball.

As it was, he had already decided to leave at dawn and as such, saw no point in staying up late to attend a ball where he had no intention of either dancing or socialising.

His attentions towards Miss Elizabeth would not be welcome, he now knew, and other than herself, he had little interest in the rest of the population of Meryton.

His mind made up, he bowed to Miss Lucas one last time, then made his way upstairs to the residential rooms of the house just as the dance set ended.

Charlotte watched him go, and was not surprised when after a few moments, she was joined by her friend,

“What did you tell him,” Elizabeth asked, equal amounts of humour and curiosity brightening her already exercise-brightened eyes, "to make him run away from you in such a fashion?”

“Where is Mr Collins?” Charlotte asked instead,

“My esteemed cousin has gone to get me punch .” Lizzy looked like she very much wanted to roll her eyes, but in that area, she had a little more restraint than Charlotte, “He will be a while. The line is rather long.” She stepped closer, took both of Charlotte’s hands in her own, “Now, don’t leave me in suspense, dearest. I saw you approach him. You two were talking for quite a while before he took his leave. I have to say, he looked very distressed as he made his excuses.” Here, Elizabeth smiled a little wickedly, almost as if she was proud of Charlotte for getting under Mr Darcy’s skin.

Charlotte tutted, but inwardly, she could not help but feel a little satisfied. It might not be much, since the person Lizzy was dancing with was no doubt the dullest of men, but it pleased Charlotte to know that the entire time Lizzy was dancing, her attention had been on Mr Darcy.

“I’m afraid if I tell you, you will be very cross with me.” Charlotte warned,

“Cross with you? For making Mr Darcy stop staring at me so intently? No, I think I’d rather thank you most ardently, my Charlotte.”

“Well, if you must know, I asked him about Mr Wickham.”

Elizabeth frowned, “Mr Wickham?”

“Yes. When you told me about your conversation with him, I found it exceedingly strange that a man, no matter how amiable, would disclose such a tragic, private affair to a stranger. So, I thought I’d ask Mr Darcy for his side of the story, since I knew you would never agree to it.”

Elizabeth indeed looked cross, pulling her hands away from Charlotte’s, she crossed her arms and huffed, “And he ran away, did not he? I think that sufficiently proves Mr Wickham’s word against his.”

“Indeed, it does not.” Charlotte smiled, “Mr Darcy did not run away. He told me that he would leave for London tomorrow and come back with proof of documents stating if not exactly his innocence, then at least Mr Wickham’s wrongdoings. ”

This made Elizabeth halt in her internal crowing, and she looked at Charlotte a little uncertainly, then she shook her head, “So, he’s to leave for London, is he? Who is to say he’ll come back? Maybe this was just him escaping when he realised Mr Wickham had shared his story amongst the citizens of Meryton.”

“Mr Wickham shared his story with you and you shared it with me . Nobody else in Meryton knows anything about it.” Elizabeth still did not look convinced, and Charlotte sighed, “Lizzy, Mr Darcy might as well be a proud and reclusive man, but other than accidentally hurting your vanity that one time, he’s never done anything so dishonourable. Between the word of a well known, and if not well liked than at least a well respected gentleman and that of a newly commissioned officer of unknown background, whose word do you think should hold more basis?”

“Mr Wickham has no reason to lie to me.” Elizabeth insisted, but her defensive position had fallen, and she looked more uncertain than ever,

“No?” Charlotte questioned, “Everybody and their mother in Meryton knows about your dislike of Mr Darcy, and by sharing with you his own supposed ‘dealings’ with the man, Mr Wickham seems to have gained your favour unnaturally fast. It is very unlike you to get infatuated with someone so quickly while knowing so little about them.”

Lizzy blushed crimson at the accusation, “I’m not infatuated! I- Mr Wickham is a friend. Nothing more.”

“Well thank the lord for that!” Charlotte smiled, then turned serious again, “I’m not trying to sway your opinion in Mr Darcy’s favour. It is true I prefer him for you over a man with no prospects like Mr Wickham himself, but they are not the only two eligible men in the country. All I am saying is, just because you dislike a man does not make him a villain just as you finding another man handsome and friendly does not make him a protagonist of a tragic novel .

“Don’t go spreading about any rumours until you’ve heard both sides of the story.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, offended, “I was not going to spread any rumours!”

“Not intentionally.” Charlotte conceded, “But only one wrong person has to hear a tale before it spreads around like wildfire. You, out of all people, should know this better than anyone, Lizzy.”

And yes, Elizabeth did know that. Intimately. Her own mother, with Aunt Phillips and Lady Lucas were notoriously famous for spreading gossip. Nothing they ever heard remained a secret. And while Elizabeth had all the confidence in Mr Wickham’s telling of his past, she could not help that little niggle of doubt that Charlotte had planted in her chest.

Elizabeth shook her head. It won’t do. No doubt, Mr Darcy would leave for London on the morrow and when days passed and he did not return, Lizzy would know she had been right.

Lizzy opened her mouth to tell Charlotte just that, but they were interrupted then by Mr Collins joining them with three glasses of punch balancing in his rather small hands. The pink fruit champagne sploshed around, spilling over the rims and staining Mr Collin’s coat sleeve who remained oblivious, and instead trotted over to the ladies enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face,

“My dear cousin Elizabeth! Miss Lucas!” He greeted, bowed, managed to spill a little more of the punch, “I apologise for any tardiness on my part. The line for the punch was quite slow.”

Elizabeth reddend, could not help but feel a little mortified that a man such as him had set his sights on her and made his intentions so blatantly public. Charlotte, however, just smiled serenely in reply and took the proffered drinks for her and her friend .

At the end of the night, it was indeed a good thing that Mr Darcy had retired early. He might not have been able to dance a set with his dearest Elizabeth, but he had managed to avoid another quarrel with his lady love and hadn’t been witness to most of the Bennet family’s impropriety during the event.

His decision to cut his attendance short had also led to his not paying much attention to Bingley or Jane. He hadn’t been present to witness Mrs Bennet’s loud proclamations of happiness and pride at gaining such a rich son-in-law. Darcy therefore had no intention to remove Bingley from Netherfield for the winter, hadn’t conspired with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst to keep him away from the Bennets and had left that morning for London before anyone else woke, thus unwittingly not providing the Bingley sisters with any opportunity to convince him of their plan to close up the estate.

27th November 1812, Tuesday

It was no surprise to Elizabeth that even after exhausting herself by dancing every set at the Netherfield ball, sleep eluded her that night. She lay in her bed, her sister, Jane asleep beside her, her own eyes open and staring at the canopy above as her mind raced from one topic to another. From dread at the idea of Mr Collin’s impending proposal to Mr Wickham’s suspicious absence at the ball to Mr Darcy’s contradicting behaviour every time they met. None of the men were without fault one way or another, and Elizabeth wondered why she could not just meet a nice, amiable fellow with a comfortable living who she could fall madly in love with without feeling so completely confused by everything he did.

Elizabeth sighed, got up from her bed to look out of the window. Dawn was breaking. They had only just gotten home an hour or so ago from the ball and she knew, just like after any other ball, most of the families in Meryton would be sleeping most of the day away. To Elizabeth, however, sleep remained an elusive mistress and determined to tire herself out further, she put on her boots, a thick, long overcoat over her nightdress and sneaked out of the house for a long walk.

She did not know how long she walked, nor did she pay attention to the direction in which she was heading. Minding her state of dress, however, Elizabeth opted to stay nearer to the thick of the woods rather than the road, though she was not expecting to encounter anyone so early anyway.

It was a surprise then, when she heard a horse clomping over in her direction. She turned, intrigued, and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man ride past her, not noticing her amidst the thick of the trees. She stared after him, not even needing a moment to know it was Mr Darcy she had just seen riding his horse in the direction of London town. The lack of a carriage or any luggage of any sort surprised her. Certainly, he looked as if he was only planning to run an errand, and the thought disturbed her terribly. Surely, Charlotte could not be right in this. Elizabeth knew Mr Darcy to be unpleasant. He was aloof and proud and looked down his well sculpted nose at everyone in Meryton. More than once she had seen him sneer and scowl at her family’s admittedly improper behaviour, and everytime she had felt mortified at his reactions.

And yet- there had been times she had seen him smile in her direction- small, fleeting smiles, yes, but they had warmed his face in those moments to such degrees, she had found herself breathless. There had been times during his stay at Netherfield when he had spoken of his sister and the love in his voice for Miss Darcy had made her almost jealous.

But then again, hadn’t Mr Wickham said himself that Mr Darcy was an exemplary brother and friend to those in his circle? He had implied that Mr Darcy’s care for his family and friends stemmed only from his pride, and while Elizabeth had at the time, taken those words for truth, she could not help but think back and ask herself if she had been a simpleton. Surely, pride alone could not make you treat people with warmth and care. And if it did, surely then pride of that kind was not something that demanded censure .

There was also Charles Bingley, whose own father’s fortune was made in trade, Elizabeth knew. According to society’s rules, Mr Bingley did not belong anywhere near the circles in which Mr Darcy himself resided. However, the affection between the two men was obvious. They were like opposites. Like the sun and the moon, the loud and the quiet. In the same way sometimes herself and Jane were opposites. Like fire and water, the cynical and the kind.

If Mr Darcy really was so rigid to society’s hierarchy, surely he would not take the time to help Mr Bingley settle into and manage an estate, enduring the other man’s sister and her blatant flirtations and flattery on a daily basis.

Elizabeth sighed, sure now that she would never be able to sleep till she had spoken to Mr Darcy herself. Vexing, vexing man! What right did he have anyway to confuse her so? She turned to walk back to Longbourn, ready to stew in her impatience and repeat all her past interactions with both Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham in her mind till she had gone positively insane .