Page 11 of Winter of Passion (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
E ntering her room, Elizabeth could not escape the feeling of discomfort, as unreasonable as it was. Miss Bingley’s efforts to secure Darcy’s attention had been no less than usual, but she now found them less amusing and more bothersome.
She and Darcy had spent the whole day together at Longbourn — though not alone — and his growing relationship with her father pleased her. Darcy had taken the trouble to bear the chaos at Longbourn, and she knew he had done so for her sake.
In the carriage back to Netherfield, she had felt cold and dreamt about the warmth of his arms. The memories of the prior night were all vivid and made her feel heated and chilled at the same time.
She had hoped for at least a few private moments with him before dinner, and when they had withdrawn to their rooms, she had believed his sentiments were no different.
And then Miss Bingley had interfered again. In truth, now that she had come to know Darcy’s true character, Elizabeth could not blame the lady so much. Any woman would be lucky to gain the affection of such a man, and Miss Bingley had every right to try her best.
Elizabeth sat near the fire to warm herself.
While the gentle heat enveloped her, so did some worrisome thoughts.
She began to wonder what she had done to be worthy of Darcy’s affection.
How had she gained his attention, when Miss Bingley — and likely many other young women — had tried and failed?
Did she truly possess the qualities that made him love her — so much so that he even forgave the cruelty she had shown him?
Or perhaps he had given her too much credit.
She had never doubted herself before, just as she had never fallen in love before. Her heart — filled with love and hopes for their future happiness — forced her mind to address questions and fight fears that were all new and distressing.
∞∞∞
“Elizabeth, I have to say you look particularly pretty tonight,” Mr Bingley said during dinner.
She blushed and laughed to cover her nervousness. Indeed, she had prepared with extra care, much more than a family dinner required. She knew her effort was worth it when she saw the expression on Darcy’s face and the glint in his dark gaze.
“Thank you, Charles. You have become even more amiable since you married, even though I did not believe that was possible.”
“I must agree with Bingley,” Darcy interjected, “though I am sure I cannot be accused of too much amiability.”
“A man does not have to be always amiable and always too ready to please others,” Miss Bingley uttered. “I have to thank you again, Mr Darcy, for your valuable advice. I feel more confident knowing that my fortune — though not without importance as it stands — may be increased.”
“There is no need to thank me, Miss Bingley. As I promised, I have already written to my solicitor and asked him to inform Mr Banfield about your interest. As soon as he replies, you may write to him directly and decide whether you wish to hire him.”
“I am depending on you to advise me further, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley insisted.
“Caroline, if Darcy recommended Mr Banfield to you, I am sure he expects you to depend on that gentleman’s advice. Let us not abuse his generosity.”
“I would not have recommended someone I did not trust,” Darcy declared. “I must say I look forward to seeing Georgiana and my cousin tomorrow,” he concluded, changing the subject.
“Dear Georgiana — how I long to see her again,” Miss Bingley said. “What a truly accomplished young lady. And at such a young age! I do not know anyone equal to her. You used to agree with me, Charles.”
The statement was clearly meant to offend and hurt Jane — and Elizabeth, but she did not care much about herself.
“I still agree with you in that, Caroline,” Bingley replied genuinely.
“Miss Darcy is a most admirable young lady. Who could deny that? I have told Jane all about her, which is why she is eager to meet her.” The statement sounded a little too favourable towards another lady for a newly wedded man, but Jane smiled approvingly at her husband.
“And Georgiana is eager to meet Mrs Bingley too,” Darcy interjected. “Bingley often mentioned Miss Jane Bennet and his admiration for her when we were at Pemberley.”
The reply clearly ruined Miss Bingley’s disposition, as the sudden frown on her face proved.
“It is true,” Bingley declared. “Even when I was such a fool as to be away from Netherfield, I could not stop thinking of Jane, nor talking about her, even though my sisters and Darcy disapproved of it. Yes, yes, that is the truth — there is no reason to deny it. Jane knows it too well.”
Miss Bingley turned red; Mrs Hurst paled. Mr Hurst gulped from his glass, while Elizabeth and Darcy glanced at each other.
“I have no intention of denying my faults,” Darcy responded. “I admit I was wrong in my judgment, and even worse was my involvement in a situation that was not for me to interfere in. Mrs Bingley is more kind-hearted and more generous in her forgiveness than I deserve.”
“Let us not worry about what is past,” Jane interjected graciously. “Lizzy has an expression of wisdom which is to think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”
“As much as I wish to agree with Miss Bennet,” Darcy said, looking at Elizabeth, “I would rather remember the wrongs too and try to make amends for them. We cannot change the past, but we can improve ourselves for the present and future.”
His reference, as well as his looks, were directed at the Bingley sisters, who chose to disregard the attention.
“This might be the last night I shall sleep peacefully before all our guests leave,” Bingley said as the second course was served. “Amazingly, almost all the rooms will be occupied. I am quite nervous about this large gathering.”
“I hope everything is properly prepared, Charles,” Mrs Hurst intervened. “I am already worried about how some of the other guests will perceive us. Lord Langley and Mr Morton are accustomed to superior society. They cannot be bothered by questionable manners and breaches of decorum.”
“You invited them, and I shall do my best to provide them with the most comfortable accommodation,” Bingley answered. “But I cannot control the behaviour of everyone in Hertfordshire.”
“I see no reason for distress,” Darcy interjected. “Even the most fastidious people would feel comfortable at Netherfield.”
“I remember you being one of them,” Mr Hurst unexpectedly said.
Darcy smiled. “I remember too. So, I am speaking from my own experience.”
The rest of the evening passed with informal conversation.
Elizabeth did not speak much; as time wore on, she felt increasingly nervous — in a most delightful way — as she anticipated the moment of her private encounter with Darcy.
She felt relieved when dinner came to an end and Jane excused herself for the night.
“I shall retire too if you do not mind,” Elizabeth said.
“Not at all,” Miss Bingley assured her with a hint of joy in her voice that amused Elizabeth. She walked arm-in-arm with Jane towards the drawing room while the gentlemen stayed at the table to enjoy brandy and cigars.
“Lizzy, I am so glad you are here! You give me strength and confidence. Charles is so sweet and has faith in me, but I fear I cannot rise to his expectations.”
“I am sure Charles’s only expectation is to know you love him as much as he loves you. You must trust in yourself as much as he does.”
“Caroline and Louisa are very unkind. I feel they would rejoice in my failure.”
“There is nothing you could fail at, Jane,” Elizabeth said, embracing her.
“Mr Darcy is so supportive — I can hardly believe it. Did you notice it? He always says something to comfort me. He may not have approved of me at first, but now I feel he is a friend.”
“I did notice, and I agree that he is your friend. I trust you will consider Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam the same.”
“Caroline and Louisa wish that Charles had pursued Miss Darcy. They even implied to me that he was doing so.”
“I remember. I also remember that I told you not to trust or believe them. But I cannot blame you, since I trusted someone worse than them. Try to rest well, Jane dearest. You will need all your strength tomorrow and on the days that follow.”
∞∞∞
Once alone in her chamber, lying on the bed, Elizabeth felt tired; the day had been eventful and tiresome.
Darcy seemed engaged with Bingley and, if Miss Bingley tricked him again into some sort of business discussion, it might take him a while to come to his room — and to knock on her door, she mused, her cheeks burning.
She could not decide whether she should change into her nightgown or not, so she paced the room for a few minutes, then stopped to listen at the door.
No sound came, so she put another log on the fire and returned to the bed.
Propped up against the pillows, she gazed across the room and out of the window, but the night was pitch-black; neither the moon nor the stars could be seen.
Tiredness eventually overcame her, and she decided to ready herself for sleep.
She unpinned her hair and brushed it, put on her nightgown, and climbed back into bed, wrapping herself in the blankets.
Only a single candle and the light from the fire glimmered in the darkness, and she could hear the wind blowing, then the sound of rain.
She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew was a sensation of warmth and comfort that made her sigh, and with her eyes still closed, she allowed her body to be spoilt by the tender touch of a strong embrace — one that was sweet and gentle, with more tenderness than passion.
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” his dear voice whispered, and she cuddled into his chest. “I found the door unlocked, and I dared to enter.”
“I am glad you did…I have been waiting for you.”
“Should I stay? I only wished for a few moments alone with you.”