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Page 2 of Winter of Passion (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

D arcy sipped from his glass while Bingley and other gentlemen spoke amongst themselves. He heard little as his thoughts remained in the other room, with Elizabeth.

He had missed her so much since the day he had left her at the inn in Lambton, crying. But fate seemed to have succeeded in keeping him away from her by various means.

Firstly, he had recently inherited two properties about which he knew barely anything — one smaller than Longbourn, the other one larger, both entailed to the male line.

The estates had been owned by a distant uncle, Mr Thornton, who had died after a long illness leaving a widow and two daughters, one of whom was also widowed with three young children of her own.

They were all terrified for their future, expecting the worst, and he had spent a long time getting the papers in order and writing settlements to allow them to live in the house for as long as they wished.

The estates, however, had unfortunately been managed poorly, so he needed to employ a steward for each one, meet the tenants, then decide upon plans for improvement.

Then, Lady Catherine had returned from Longbourn and visited him in London with unreasonable requests concerning Elizabeth, and their discussion had turned into a horrible quarrel, which had culminated in hurtful accusations that he was unwilling to forget.

He would have continued to help with the estate matters of Rosings as it belonged to Anne and his affection for his cousin remained; however, Lady Catherine demanded otherwise, so he had given up any involvement in Rosings — with equal relief and concern.

Bingley’s wedding had brought him back to Netherfield, but he had only been able to stay for a short while.

Not long enough to talk to Elizabeth, not long enough to attempt to guess her opinion and her feelings about him.

The brief time they had spent at Pemberley together had given him a glimmer of hope, and so had Lady Catherine’s rage.

If Elizabeth’s opinion of him remained the same as in April, she would have said as much to his aunt.

Now, his business was complete, finally, and he had come back to Netherfield intending to stay.

For how long depended entirely on Elizabeth.

He would certainly spend Christmas there and would attend his friend’s ball.

Another Netherfield ball, a year after the previous one.

His conversation with Elizabeth during their first dance together was still vivid in his mind.

If he had not been ignorant and arrogant, seeing only what was convenient to his ego, he would have noticed even then the sharpness of Elizabeth’s tongue and the irony on her lips.

He would have understood that she had not guessed his attraction to her and certainly did not welcome or return it.

He had wasted so much time trying to keep his distance from her when she was already at a considerable distance from him.

His own faulty reasoning had induced him to propose to her last April, in a manner that had been equally foolish, imprudent, and offensive.

Her rejection had been delivered likewise.

After all those months of loving her in silence, he was still amazed by his response to her presence, her smiles, her glances.

How they stirred all his senses and every fibre of his body.

Seeing her seated across from him at dinner had ruined his appetite for food but aroused another sort of hunger inside him — one he had never experienced before.

Bingley had told him that Elizabeth would stay at Netherfield until after the ball, and his first thought had been that fate had offered him an unexpected opportunity.

For what, he could not say yet. He would certainly not utter a word or make a single gesture unless he was absolutely certain she wished him to.

The notion of being under the same roof as her was thrilling and distressing at the same time.

Even more — or even worse! — she had been given a room close to his.

Close enough to ruin whatever little sleep he might manage to find.

In a few days, his cousin and Georgiana would arrive; but until then, he had to bear Elizabeth’s enchanting and dangerous presence near him.

“Should we return to the ladies now?” he heard Bingley suggesting. Without waiting for anyone’s approval, Bingley invited the gentlemen to follow him. Darcy smiled, noticing his friend’s eagerness to be with his wife. He was equally eager to be with Elizabeth, except he had no right to express it.

Bingley, Hurst, Sir William, Mr Phillips, and the young Gilbert Greenwood followed their host. Mr Bennet remained a few steps behind, looking at Darcy.

“Mr Darcy, I must thank you, sir.”

“Thank me? I cannot imagine what for.”

“My brother Gardiner said you provided invaluable help in finding my dishonourable and unworthy son-in-law Wickham and facilitating that unwanted wedding.”

“Oh…” Darcy panicked, wondering how much of his confidence Mr Gardiner had betrayed.

“My brother gave me no details about the nature of your involvement, but he described it as beyond generous and said that without it, his endeavour would have been unsuccessful.”

“Mr Gardiner is too generous with his praise,” Darcy replied with a sigh of relief.

“There is no need to thank me, sir. Quite the opposite. I have long known of Wickham’s lack of honour and his unworthiness, and I should have publicly exposed him before he had the chance to harm another trusting person. ”

“Well, Mr Darcy, do not blame yourself. At that time, I am sorry to say that Wickham was universally liked. Any claim coming you made against him would likely have been rejected.”

“I am aware of that. Wickham possesses the ability to charm people and present himself in a manner that is very different from reality.”

“Very much like you, Mr Darcy. Forgive my boldness in saying so, but what my brother told me about you is nowhere near what I — we all — believed about you.”

“Your boldness sounds more like honesty and is much appreciated, Mr Bennet,” Darcy replied. “I am aware of my impolite behaviour during my visit here last winter, and I hope to improve the general ill opinion of me.”

“Do you?” Mr Bennet enquired, arching his eyebrow.

Darcy had seen that little gesture on Elizabeth too, and he smiled, while Mr Bennet continued.

“You are a man full of surprises, Mr Darcy. Upon my word, I never imagined you would care about others’ opinions of you — and even less attempt to improve them. ”

“Not the opinions of all people,” he eventually admitted.

“Ah, that sounds more reasonable,” Mr Bennet said.

“If I were in your position, I would care for very few people’s opinions.

Sadly, I do not have such a privilege. Again, I thank you, Mr Darcy.

You saved the rest of our family from the misery and ruin that my poor youngest daughter willingly chose. ”

Darcy was tempted to find words of compassion, but Mr Bennet would certainly not appreciate them.

They were approaching the drawing-room, where the din of voices surely allowed no reasonable conversation, and the noise seemed to affect them both.

As they entered, they unconsciously remained together, finding chairs near each other.

Darcy looked around the room, sipped from his glass, and listened without paying much attention.

His eyes turned towards Elizabeth despite his struggle to behave, and he wondered how he could possibly address her.

He could have simply approached her and asked a question without anyone finding it suspicious, but he knew Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst would make some rude remark, and he wished to protect Elizabeth from any discomfort.

If only the other guests would leave, he might find a private moment.

Or at least he could think of her in silence in his room, which was only a few steps away from hers.

After a while, most of the guests sat down to cards; Darcy declined, as did Mr Bennet, Miss Mary, and Elizabeth.

“Miss Eliza, do you still prefer reading to playing cards?” Miss Bingley enquired as she studied her hand. “I see you hold no book, so it must be that you simply despise games that most people enjoy.”

“Miss Bingley, there are few things I despise, and cards are certainly not among them. I am simply not in the disposition for a game at present.”

“I am in no disposition to play either,” Mrs Bennet interjected, sipping from her sherry. “Seeing my dear Jane looking so pretty and so happily married makes me happy enough.”

Elizabeth did not miss Jane’s blush or Miss Bingley’s eyes rolling in irritation.

“Miss Bingley, I am surprised that you are not married yet,” Mrs Bennet said.

The lady looked up from her cards, her eyes almost bulging in shock. “Excuse me?”

“I was wondering the same thing, and I am not the only one in Meryton,” Mrs Phillips uttered.

“It might be because you needed to act as host for your brother,” Mrs Bennet continued with serenity, disregarding several reproachful looks from her family. “However, you do not need to worry about that now. I am sure your brother’s happy marriage will inspire you to seek your own.”

Darcy could hardly repress his smile; he was exceedingly diverted by the discussion. Apparently, Mr Bennet was the only one who shared his amusement; everybody else looked either ignorant of the breach of decorum or embarrassed.

“Mrs Bennet, I assure you that my situation in life is perfect as it is and does not merit any concern,” Miss Bingley said coldly. “Unlike others, I am not desperate to find a husband. I am sure you have enough to worry about regarding the marriage of your other three daughters.”

As improper as Mrs Bennet’s intervention had been, it was meant kindly. Miss Bingley’s reply was quite the opposite; the rudeness was directed not only towards Mrs Bennet but also towards Mrs Bingley and her sisters.

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