Bingley5

The Other Bingley, Part V

Bingley nearly dropped his cup when he saw Darcy enter the breakfast room cheerily adjusting his cravat and� whistling. Yes, Fitzwilliam Darcy was whistling, of all things! Before going to the sideboard to collect his breakfast, he took a brief glance in the mirror and tried to brush back an errant curl with his fingers. He sat next to Bingley and wished him a good morning in an unusually chirpy voice.

"I dare say it is Darcy. You certainly seem cheerful enough. May I inquire why?"

"Was the ball not a grand time? I cannot recall having such a grand time at any other ball," Darcy replied. A smile crept over Bingley's face as understanding took over.

"She is a beauty, is she not? Though I am more partial to her sister, I cannot deny that she is a jewel."

"Mmm," Darcy said in dreamy agreement, his mind three miles down the road. "Indeed she is. I have never� er, that is, what on earth are you talking of Bingley?" The pathetic attempt to feign innocence only induced laughter on his friend's part.

"Oh come Darcy. I am not a fool. I saw the very particular attentions you paid to Miss Elizabeth last night. Indeed, I believe everyone saw them, especially her mother and my youngest sister." Darcy rolled his eyes; of course Caroline would have noticed.

"Good morning Charles, Mr. Darcy," came a sing-songy voice from behind them. Speak of the devil, Darcy muttered to himself. "I do hope Cook has arranged an excellent breakfast this morning. I am famished after last night's exertions. I thought the guests would never leave, it was getting so late!" The gentlemen continued to eat their breakfasts with only the briefest nods of reply. Caroline changed her tactic. "How very ill Eliza Bennet looked last evening. In all my life I have never seen someone so altered as she is since the autumn. She's grown so ashen and sickly. Louisa and I were agreeing that we should hardly know her. What do you say Mr. Darcy?" He tried hard to keep his disdain hidden.

"I saw no great difference. She is I suppose a bit pale, not a surprising consequence of winter." But Caroline was not to be deterred.

"I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive any thing extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable. I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a beauty! -- I should as soon call her mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."

Darcy could contain himself no longer. Standing and throwing his napkin on the table, he replied, "Yes I did, but that was only when I first knew her. For some time now, I have found her to be one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance, possessing a natural beauty in no need of embellishment and ornamentation like so many ladies of the ton. Excuse me." With that, he stormed off in a rage. He knew he should not have spoken so openly with Caroline, but he could not control the anger she had sparked in abusing Elizabeth so. His only consolation was that she and the Hursts would be leaving that very day for London and he would no longer have to deal with her, at least for the time being.

"Well!" Caroline huffed, and was silent, left to all the satisfaction of having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself. Bingley just grinned to himself at Caroline being speechless for once.

As soon as was proper, Darcy and Bingley arrived at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet was particularly attentive to Darcy this morning, in a tizzy over his pointed courtesies to Elizabeth at the ball. The gentleman himself, meanwhile, paid no one any mind; he went directly to Elizabeth and bowed in greeting.

"Good morning Miss Bennet. If you are not too tired from the ball, may I convince you to walk out with me whilst the sun is still shining?" Elizabeth blushed and agreed on the condition that Jane and Mr. Bingley accompany them. After last night she had grown shy, and was nervous about being alone with him. Bingley thought it a capital idea, desirous of doing everything in his power to assure a happy outcome for his friend. The couples walked towards Meryton, Darcy and Elizabeth quickly outstripping their companions. When Elizabeth noticed how far ahead they were, she suggested that they slow down.

"It seems that we have left Jane and Mr. Bingley behind. Perhaps we might wait here a while." Darcy acquiesced and led her to a fence for her to lean against. He stood next to her, a little closer than was absolutely necessary.

"May I say again, Miss Bennet, how very lovely you looked yesterday? I was absolutely enchanted." Elizabeth blushed more deeply and cast down her eyes. Taking her silence as encouragement, he took her hand and began caressing it with his thumb. "I have long thought you to be the handsomest woman of my acquaintance, but last night even I was dazzled." She took back her hand uneasily.

"I was under the impression that you found me barely tolerable, sir," she retorted, unhappy about bringing up the past, but needing to escape from the discomfort of his flattery. She was beginning to convince herself that his intentions could not be honorable, that a man of his position could not be in love with a country girl like her. She could not allow herself to fall into his trap; she would not be his toy.

"You did hear me, then," he said more as a statement than a question. "I suspected it was so. Elizabeth, you must believe me when I say that I was blind and stupid when I said those words. No sooner had I said them than I began to regret them."

"Mr. Darcy, I do not believe we are on such terms as to allow you to call me by my Christian name. I must ask you to show more discretion." He apologized profusely, but was confused by her cold behavior. What had changed between the ball and this meeting?

"Forgive me Miss Bennet, but you seem displeased with me. Have I caused offence?"

"Sir, I know you are a man of the world, and that gentlemen are used to having their own way, but I assure you that you will not have your way with me," she blurted out at last, and immediately covered her face in shame at her outburst. Darcy's jaw dropped.

"You think my intentions are� dishonorable?" he demanded. "Have I given you cause to think so poorly of me?" She did not have a chance to reply, as Jane and Bingley had finally caught up to them. They walked the rest of the way in silence, Darcy not reclaiming Elizabeth's arm again. She felt relieved but strangely bereft; she chided herself for her silliness, telling herself that she could not have it both ways, but her conflicted heart could not be made to see sense.

Upon returning the ladies to Longbourn, Darcy immediately took his leave, but was unable to resist kissing Elizabeth's hand in parting. Recalling her earlier chastisement, however, he quickly dropped it and left without another word. Elizabeth excused herself claiming a headache and retired to her room.

"Mr. Darcy! Back already? I had not expected you until after dinner."

"Nor had I, Mrs. Westling, but events conspired against me." The frustration was evident in his voice.

"Has something happened at Longbourn?" Elinor asked cautiously.

"It seems I cannot win with Elizabeth Bennet, that is what has happened. When I was distant, I was proud and hateful; now that I am warm and affectionate, she thinks me a cad! Do you know that she actually accused me of trying to take advantage of her? She believes that I am trying to 'have my way with her', as she put it. Incredible!" Elinor guided him to a seat in the drawing room.

"Well, you were a bit strong in your attentions last night, Mr. Darcy. Everyone was talking about it. Within a fortnight you have completely changed your behavior, and knowing so little of you, she assumes, not that you love her and wish to marry her, but that you wish to make her your mistress."

"How can she think that? Have I not shown my love most clearly?"

"You have certainly shown your admiration, but if she is not expecting your love, she may not see it as such. My advice is to proceed more slowly, give her time to sort out her own heart. She has hardly had time to stop disliking you, much less to begin loving you. You forget that you have the advantage of time over her."

"I did not think it would be so complicated," he confessed. "No woman in London would give me this trouble." Elinor smiled.

"And that is just why you are not in love with any of them." He had to admit to the truth of this statement, but it was still most vexing that the one woman he truly desired should also be the only one who seemed entirely immune to his charms.

"I don't suppose you could help me Mrs. Westling?" he asked weakly, earning a tsk-tsk and a shake of the head.

"I believe I have done my part admirably; anymore interference by me and people will begin to think that I am a professional matchmaker. I'm afraid you shall have to sort this out yourself Mr. Darcy."

"But how can I convince her that my heart is true? I am not a seducer of innocent young ladies!" he protested.

"I know dear," Elinor comforted, "but she does not. You will have to offer her evidence of your sincerity." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes� yes, of course. Thank you Mrs. Westling, you have been of great assistance." With a parting bow, he called out to a servant to prepare his horse again, leaving Elinor a bit concerned about his plan of action. But she felt that she had meddled enough in this affair, and would now leave the young couple to their own devices.

Not long afterwards, Darcy strode purposefully into Longbourn and asked to be taken directly to Mr. Bennet, who was most surprised at having such a visitor. At Mr. Bennet's invitation, Darcy regally sat down in one of the large library chairs.

"Mr. Darcy, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Mr. Bennet asked sarcastically. He had seen Darcy's behavior towards Elizabeth the night before, and, after all he had known of the man's infamous character, was wary of him. It was therefore surprising that he did not have a fit of apoplexy upon hearing Darcy's reply.

"Mr. Bennet, I have to come to declare my intention of making an offer to your daughter, Miss Elizabeth."

"This seems a rare way of making such a declaration," Mr. Bennet scoffed. "I seem to recall that the young lady in question should have some say in this."

"Indeed sir, but I felt it proper to speak to you about it as well. I would like your approval to pay her those attentions which would allow me to discover her feelings. My intentions are entirely honorable, and by declaring myself thus I show my commitment to your daughter."

"I am inclined to believe that your definition of honor is somewhat different than my own," Mr. Bennet replied cryptically. Darcy furrowed his brow in confusion.

"You do not approve of my coming to you for your permission, sir?" he asked defensively.

"I rather wonder at your audacity. I cannot believe that you are unaware of the neighborhood's knowledge of your past indiscretions."

"Indiscretions?!" Darcy bellowed, rising to his feet. "I cannot even begin to comprehend what you are implying!" Rather than intimidating him, Darcy's indignation amused Mr. Bennet.

"Come Mr. Darcy, Meryton is a small village. Gossip travels quickly, particularly gossip that involves such evil deeds done against one of the more popular members of the ---shire militia." Darcy huffed with frustration and sat back down.

"I assume you refer to Mr. Wickham." Mr. Bennet nodded. "I see that your daughter has kept my confidence, and that I shall have to reveal the truth myself." With care not to reveal Georgiana's role in the scandal, Darcy told Mr. Bennet the history of his association with Wickham, from his dissolute character at Cambridge to his attempted elopement with a "young heiress" of only 15 years of age. "If you require more tangible evidence, I can have my solicitor send the appropriate papers from London confirming all the pecuniary transactions I described; you would also find that even his present commission was purchased from my funds, though I did not know that the position would bring him to Hertfordshire."

Mr. Bennet did not know what was more shocking: the account that Darcy had just related, or the fact that he had related said account. He had never pictured himself as Darcy's confidant. He must be truly earnest in his request to pursue my Lizzy. The thought gave him almost as little pleasure as the thought of him being a cad. A marriage proposal was now inevitable, which, if successful, would then be followed by his Lizzy being taken away.

"Does Lizzy know any of this?"

"Yes sir, she knows it all."

"And what does she think of you as suitor?" Darcy fidgeted uncomfortably.

"That I do not know; though I have showed my preference for her, I fear she does not believe me to be serious. My hope in coming to you is to prove to her that I am in earnest."

"Very well young man. You have told me. Should Lizzy ask me, I will tell her that you have spoken to me about it. Her assent, however, is out of my hands." Darcy bowed his thanks and opened the door to leave. He had not gone two steps when he saw Elizabeth; she had been on her way to the library to see if, as the servants had whispered, Mr. Darcy was closeted with her father. Her face blanched when she saw him exit that very room in confirmation of the fact.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said gently, bowing, "how do you do?"

"Mr. Darcy� I thought you had returned to Netherfield."

"I had, but I found that I had business with your father and returned." She blinked in confusion.

"What business could you have with my father?" He motioned for her walk into the evening sitting room, currently empty due to the hour.

"I was taken aback by your accusation this morning, Miss Bennet. You cannot know how your words wounded me." Elizabeth blushed, ashamed of her rash behavior earlier. He had never given her cause to think that he was anything but genuine in the affection he was beginning to show her; rather, she was starting to realize that her own feelings were what frightened her. To go so quickly from hating the man to liking him in an almost inappropriate manner made her nervous, and she had taken her insecurity out on him. She was about to open her mouth to apologize when he continued. "The truth is, since almost the beginning of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard that despite all my struggles has overcome every objection." He took her hand and kissed it, feeling suddenly too shy to look into her shocked eyes. "I know that you have not had much time to think of me as anything other than your enemy, so I shall not make you an offer today. But I would like you to know that I have spoken to your father of my intentions and he has given me permission to try to win your heart as best I can."

At first Elizabeth felt embarrassment at such an effusion of feeling from Darcy. Then she realized his reason for being at Longbourn; without speaking to her, learning her feelings on the subject, even seeing if she was agreeable to the notion, he had gone directly to her father and put her in the rather awkward position of knowing that there were now expectations, and that he would be making her an offer of marriage in the foreseeable future. Anger over this affront began to set in.

"Well, how very kind of you both to decide this for me. I suppose my approval is not required for this transaction," she stated angrily, fine eyes blazing. "How dare you go to my father before seeking my consent! Insufferable presumption!" Darcy, rather than daunted by her reproof, felt a most untimely arousal grip him at the sight of her impassioned countenance. He knew that she was furious, but he couldn't help himself.

"God, you're beautiful when you're angry." The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. Upon realizing his folly, a deep crimson covered his cheeks. Elizabeth stood stunned for a moment, and then began to laugh. Now Darcy was in a quandary, because it turned out that her mirthful face was comparable in beauty to her wrathful face, and he could not deny that the implications were probably more favorable. Such an appealing sight was threatening his self-control.

"Forgive me Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth gasped as she sought her breath, "but I had not expected such trite flattery from a gentleman such as you." He smiled bashfully.

"Perhaps I spoke thoughtlessly, but the sentiment is accurate. I will admit, though, that there is a lovelier sight: your smile." Elizabeth knew not what to say; he had disarmed her completely. Taking her silence as encouragement, he stepped closer. "Miss Bennet, I apologize for my presumption, but I wanted to make it very clear to you that I am sincere in my attentions to you. I am now honor-bound to make you an offer of marriage. Does this calm your fears about my intentions?" She nodded, still speechless. "Have I regained your permission to call on you?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for asking for it." Darcy placed his finger under her chin and made her look him in the eye.

"I would not do anything without your approval madam." With that, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "Until tomorrow," he whispered in her ear, "goodbye."

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