Only Mr. Darcy Will Do (5 page)

The following day, Elizabeth poured herself into Emily’s lessons. She would not permit herself idle time, which would only serve to allow her mind to recall the events of the prior evening. She had slept restlessly, concern building within as she contemplated having to inform Jane before long of Mr. Bingley’s engagement and also whether Rosalyn might somehow come to hear of Mr. Darcy’s offer.

That evening, the Willstones and Rosalyn were to attend a small dinner party. Elizabeth had heard a little bit about it previously during the week, but now there was much speculation on Rosalyn’s part whether Mr. Darcy would be there. Rosalyn was more inclined now to express her feelings to Elizabeth, and today they included the hope that he might make an appearance. With every passing between the two young ladies, a look of hopefulness on Rosalyn’s face or a brief word spoken to Elizabeth reinforced the much anticipated prospect of seeing him.

Everyone at the Willstones’ the previous evening had expressed their plans to attend this dinner party. Rosalyn told Elizabeth that it was all she could do to keep from asking Miss Darcy whether or not her brother would also be accompanying them. She had lofty expectations that since his sister would be there, he would be as well.

That evening, after Rosalyn spent over an hour with her personal maid, insisting she make her as beautiful as she could, she asked for Elizabeth to join her alone in her chambers.

Elizabeth saw to it that Emily was playing contentedly by herself and went to her friend.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” Rosalyn rushed to greet her when Elizabeth appeared at her door. “Come inside, please!” She ushered Elizabeth in and closed the door behind them. Pointing to a chair, she asked Elizabeth to sit down.

Taking the chair across from her, Rosalyn began. “I am beside myself, and I just needed to talk to you!” Her eyes shone a glassy blue, and Elizabeth had to admit she had never seen her look lovelier.

“I just have an extraordinarily strong feeling he will be there tonight, and being the somewhat small party that it is, there is every possibility that I will have the opportunity to speak with him! I so want him to think well of me, yet I fear I will not know what to say!”

Elizabeth reached over and gently put her hand upon Rosalyn’s, which were folded in her lap. “Rosalyn, whatever you do, just be yourself.” She bestowed a gentle smile on her friend as she gave Rosalyn words of encouragement that she felt would actually put her in Mr. Darcy’s good stead.

“Was there anything you noticed that he liked or disliked? Did you notice him with women in whose company he seemed to enjoy? What kind of woman do you think he prefers?”

Elizabeth looked down, feeling a most unwelcome blush spread out upon her cheeks. She sympathised with her friend and truly wanted to give her some helpful advice.

Looking back up, Elizabeth said, “Do not attempt to flatter him or placate him. I believe him to be a man who sees through any sort of arts that a woman might use to secure his notice.”

Rosalyn looked at her intently. “Yes, I believe you are right. What else can you tell me?”

“If it appears that he wishes to be left alone, by all means do not beleaguer him with petty questions and conversation. You, yourself, mentioned that he is reserved. It is best to make a good impression now and use future opportunities to show him how intelligent you are.”

“Yes! That is very wise, Elizabeth. Is there anything else?”

Elizabeth pondered this, and her eyes lit up. “You might occasionally disagree with him.”

“Disagree with him! Oh, how you tease me!” Rosalyn laughed as she pulled Elizabeth toward her in a hug. “I could never do that!”

“No,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head. “No, I suppose you could not.”

After reassuring Rosalyn that she truly had nothing about which to worry, she sent her off with hopes of securing Mr. Darcy’s affections. She could only laugh at the irony of this situation: how she was building up this young lady’s hopes about none other than Mr. Darcy. She had been tempted several times to tell Rosalyn that he most likely had many faults but could not bring herself to do that. When she finally quit Rosalyn’s room, she wondered about all she had truly said about the man. She was quite certain none of it reflected poorly on him.

After the Willstones and Rosalyn departed, Elizabeth attempted to ascertain whether or not she wished Mr. Darcy to be there tonight. Curiosity prompted her to wonder exactly how he was doing, yet an apprehension of encountering him again gave rise to the wish that he not be present. She knew that Rosalyn would likely pay her a visit in her chambers with any such news when they returned later. Elizabeth would know by morning whether her friend’s hopes had been fulfilled or dashed.

Elizabeth found herself unable to sleep that night and propped herself up in her bed with a book. She read into the early hours of the morning and listened with a surprising sense of expectancy for everyone to return, until sleep eventually overtook her.

***

Elizabeth’s book had fallen down upon her lap, and the candle snuffed as it burnt down. Her breathing became heavy and laboured as dreams besieged her in what little time she slept. She dreamt that Mr. Darcy was paying a call, and fear gripped her as she heard the sharp rap at the door. Trying to flee from his presence, she found she could not run. The sound of the tapping at the door became louder and more insistent.

She abruptly awakened to see Rosalyn peering into the room through a slightly opened door.

“Elizabeth, I am sorry to awaken you. You must have been in a sound sleep as you did not answer when I knocked, but you must allow me to tell you what transpired tonight!”

Elizabeth slowly lifted her head and gazed at the light in Rosalyn’s eyes, reflecting the flame of the candle she was holding. Elizabeth knew immediately what her friend was about to tell her, and she braced herself for it.

“He was there tonight, Elizabeth! He was there!”

Closing her eyes briefly and pressing her lips tightly together, Elizabeth breathed in slowly to calm her rapidly beating heart. She looked up at Rosalyn. “You mean Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes!” Rosalyn answered slowly as all her breath was expelled. She quickly took Elizabeth’s hand and held it tightly in her own. “It was a small party of about twenty, and would you believe it? He purposely took the chair next to mine for the dinner! I did not think I would be able to breathe throughout it, and the thought of eating was the absolute last thing on my mind!”

Rosalyn laughed and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand more tightly. “When he spoke, I could barely tend to his words!” Her voice gradually rose in intensity and rapidity, but in a whisper she concluded with, “I cannot help but think he purposely singled me out!”

Elizabeth made an attempt to smile. “I am very glad to hear that, Rosalyn, but could we wait until morning? I am quite tired!”

“Oh, yes, please forgive me, Elizabeth!” Rosalyn sat still for a moment, seemingly not yet ready to quit the room. “But first, I must tell you! He mentioned you by name, having heard that you are living here as a governess!”

Elizabeth felt her throat constrict as the colour drained from her face. “He did?”

“Yes, and you cannot guess what else!”

Elizabeth shook her head slowly, feeling apprehension rise. “I cannot imagine.”

“He indicated a slight curiosity whether you had spoken of him at all. When I said that indeed you had, he said he hoped it had been in a favourable light.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and then looked down at her nervously entwining hands. Her face warmed with a blush.

“Elizabeth.” Rosalyn leaned toward her. “He is clearly hopeful that I have heard only good things about him from you.”

Elizabeth looked up at her through guarded eyes. “Yes, so it would seem.” She took in a breath and held it before asking her next question. “Rosalyn, what
did
you tell him that I said about him?”

“I told him you only had the kindest words about him; that you spoke highly of your respect for him and felt he was a most admirable gentleman; that there was not a finer man that could be found.”

Elizabeth eyes widened, and she laughed nervously. “Rosalyn, did I truly say all that?”

“Well, you know how I can get carried away at times. He seemed quite pleased with your estimation of him, and I said a few more things, only wishing to please him more.” She paused for a moment, and her eyes widened. “I hope you do not mind! Oh, please forgive me for embellishing your opinion of him. I just knew that you thought highly of him from what little you said.”

Elizabeth’s mind swirled in turmoil as she wondered what he must think of her now. “Well, it is behind us and Mr. Darcy must be quite convinced that I hold him in the highest regard!”

“Thank you so much, Elizabeth!” Rosalyn stood up to walk toward the door. “I shall sleep most soundly and contentedly tonight!”

When Rosalyn stepped out and closed the door, Elizabeth leaned her head back down on the pillow, her thoughts warring with her feelings. “I am glad someone shall!”

***

Sleep did evade Elizabeth for most of the remainder of the night. Over and over, she pondered why Mr. Darcy had inquired about her opinion of him from Rosalyn.
Was he truly concerned that I spoke favourably of him because he wished for Rosalyn to have a good opinion of him? Does he think so highly of himself that he hopes to learn that I have changed my opinion of him? Or does he merely hope that I now realize his worth and the significance of his offer?

Considering any of those options did little to calm her erratically beating heart. Knowing all that Rosalyn told him—truly more than what she had really said—made her wonder what he now thought of her.
Whatever his opinion of me, he must feel himself quite self-satisfied now!

“Ohhh!” Elizabeth pounded the pillow. It should not matter what his estimation of her was or why he wanted to know her opinion of him! Elizabeth dove into her pillow face down. But to own the truth, it
did
matter to her, and she could not help but wonder why.

The next morning, Rosalyn came up to Elizabeth several times, recalling some incident from the previous night that she wished to share with her, everything from what Mr. Darcy wore to what foods he seemed to enjoy the most.

“Elizabeth, when I first noticed him, he was standing with his back to me. But I was quite certain it was him because of the manner in which he walked as someone called him over. Have you ever noticed how he appears to glide across the floor? And he had on the most impeccable dark blue attire. When he turned and looked at me, I quite forgot about what I was speaking to Mrs. Remington!”

And then she spoke of the meal. “He took a rather small portion of duck, but seemed to take a rather large portion of potatoes. He had little interest at all in the beet soup, but he did eat a good deal of the bread pudding.”

Elizabeth made several futile attempts to change the subject. However much she did not wish to hear about
him
, she did inquire about Mr. Bingley and Miss Darcy and whether an announcement of their betrothal had been made.

“No, I had very little opportunity to speak to them as they left early. I did hear people whispering and conjecturing about them, though, and they all think an announcement is forthcoming.”

Throughout the day, Elizabeth found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on Emily’s lessons. She found herself easily distracted, and even little Emily noticed it.

“Miss Bennet,” Emily said, reaching out and taking Elizabeth’s hand. “Are you feeling unwell this morning? You do not seem yourself.”

Elizabeth squeezed Emily’s hand. “You certainly are an astute child, Emily.”

“What is… astute?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Astute means you are smart about things and have good judgement. You can sense things to be a certain way. For example, you say I do not seem to be myself. You are correct, but I had not told you how I was feeling.”

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“Truly? And as you grow up, you will notice more and more things like that, making you a good studier of character.”

“Is that good?”

Elizabeth tilted her head. “It can be in some ways.” She thought back to her study of Mr. Darcy. “But we must not always rely on what we first perceive. We may not always be correct.”

“How will we know if we are mistaken?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Sometimes we may not know until it is too late. But,” Elizabeth clasped her hands together, “a good rule of thumb is to not be too quick to judge someone poorly, but always be willing to judge them well. Then collect the facts you need to support or disprove your opinion.”

Emily displayed a wide grin. “That does sound like a good idea.”

Elizabeth felt a little better after her talk with Emily. She enjoyed sharing lessons she had learned from people, books, and her own experience. Fortunately, the young girl did not ask what it was that was bothering her, and Elizabeth did not volunteer the information.

***

To Elizabeth’s relief and Rosalyn’s regret, for several weeks there were no balls, no parties, and no evenings at the theatre where Mr. Darcy, his sister, or Mr. Bingley were in attendance. Rosalyn still harboured hopes that Mr. Darcy had a fondness for her, but kept it between herself and Elizabeth. She had not owned up to her sister what her hopes and dreams concerning him were.

Elizabeth was grateful for his absence from those functions, but Rosalyn continued to mention him at every opportunity. While she dearly enjoyed the friendship they shared, when the subject of Mr. Darcy came up, Elizabeth had to choose her words very carefully.

She was also immeasurably grateful that there had been no announcement concerning an engagement between Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley. She had made a decision early on that she would not burden Jane with the fact that she had seen him again until it was absolutely necessary. But she knew it would only be a matter of time.

Blue skies and mild breezes became increasingly prominent in the ensuing weeks, replacing the grey skies and cold dampness that had plagued London throughout the spring. The promise of summer brought with it the anticipation of colourful gardens, warmer days, and of course, the move to the country. The house was all astir with plans and packing.

While Elizabeth savoured each visit to her aunt and uncle’s, more often than not her smiles were forced and she found it difficult to join the others in their laughter. It pained her to know that these visits would shortly be coming to an end when she departed with the Willstones for the north. But just as she was determined to guard what she said to Rosalyn about Mr. Darcy, so she had to be careful not to mention Mr. Bingley to Jane. Until she knew for a certainty that an announcement between him and Miss Darcy had been made, she would not acknowledge to her sister that she had seen him. It was an insufferable thought that lingered continually in the back of her mind.

As the time drew nearer for their departure, arrangements were made for one final party at the Willstones’ home, and Elizabeth had been asked to practice a song for Emily to sing for the guests. Invitations were sent out to all their closest acquaintances, and Elizabeth pondered quietly whether that would include Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Mr. Bingley. She could only hope and pray that
he
would not attend and that
they
had not yet become betrothed.

Elizabeth diligently tended to her duties with little Emily, working with fervour on a song she would play on the pianoforte and Emily would sing. She did everything to keep the thought of which guests might attend out of her mind. Rosalyn, however, brought forth that subject to Elizabeth at every opportunity. The day before the party, she came to see Elizabeth.

“He most likely will not be here, Elizabeth,” she pouted despondently.

Elizabeth tilted her head at Rosalyn and gave her a sly smile. “Of whom do you speak?”

“Oh, Elizabeth, how you tease me! We have heard that Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley will attend, but nothing from her brother.” Rosalyn let out a deep sigh. “It is just as I feared. My sister supposes that he has already left for the country and will not be returning to London until next season.”

A great sense of relief flooded Elizabeth, but she felt compassion for her friend’s disappointed hopes. “I am sure there will be plenty of opportunities to see him in Town next year.”

Rosalyn waved her hand through the air in a dramatic gesture. “Oh, no. I am convinced he will be married by then. Or at least promised to someone.”

Curiosity prompted Elizabeth to ask, “Why do you say that?”

Reaching out and grasping Elizabeth’s hands, Rosalyn answered, “If his sister is to marry, he will be released from the burden of her guardianship and feel the freedom to take a wife of his own. Some say it may have been due to his devotion and care for his sister that he has not yet married…”

Elizabeth abruptly looked down as her heart began to pound. Slowly looking back up at Rosalyn, she asked apprehensively, “Are they engaged, then? Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley?”

Rosalyn waved her hand back and forth. “No… that is… I have not heard that there has been an announcement, but everyone believes it will be soon. And if that is the case, if I do not see Mr. Darcy before we leave for the country, it may be too late. I will be gravely disappointed.”

“Rosalyn,” Elizabeth tried to reassure her. “There are many fine men out there. Certainly someone other than Mr. Darcy would make you a wonderful husband.”

“Perhaps,” she said as she drew her hands into her lap and wove her fingers nervously together. “But he is so good and kind and generous. He is devoted to his sister and does not seem to be impressed with the trappings of society. Besides that, he is so terribly handsome. He is just about the only man in the world I could ever consider marrying!”

Elizabeth let out an unwitting breathy chuckle. Rosalyn looked up abruptly.

“Do you think me foolish?”

“No, Rosalyn.” Elizabeth answered, chiding herself for her reaction. She recollected the words she lashed out at him when she refused his offer of marriage, that he would be the last man she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. “If he is as good as you say, I cannot think you foolish at all.”

***

On the day of the Willstones’ party, an early morning light rain dampened the grounds. But later in the afternoon the clouds were pushed north by a pleasant southerly breeze, allowing the sun to peek out intermittently. By late afternoon, the blue sky prevailed and the sun poured down its warmth on the Willstone household.

Due to the cool and wet weather, Elizabeth was forced to keep Emily entertained indoors. The excitement the girl felt about the evening gave her an abundance of energy, and it was all Elizabeth could do to keep her out of the way of the servants making final preparations for the evening.

Elizabeth had been given instructions to keep Emily upstairs again until she was called for. Guests would begin arriving in the late afternoon, and a supper would be served in the early evening. Emily would be asked to sing in the parlour just prior to the supper being served, before everyone proceeded to the dining room.

The two had been working together on their song rather diligently. They had practiced it over and over for the past two weeks until both knew it quite well. Emily had no qualms about singing in front of an audience, so Elizabeth did not have to fear that the young girl would suffer any nerves. She was confident her charge would perform splendidly.

Being a larger party, Elizabeth knew she would not be put in a position to have to speak to anyone. She and Emily would come out, perform, and then take their leave and return upstairs. If Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley were there, she would not be required to converse with them. At least she was prepared this time to see them, and she would bear it admirably, although she still harboured lingering disappointment for her dear Jane.

She readied herself in her dark grey muslin gown before attending to Emily. The longer the little girl could remain in her everyday dress, the easier it would be. When Elizabeth began to hear voices coming from downstairs, she knew that people had begun to arrive. She went in and tended to Emily.

She took care to curl Emily’s long hair and weave it with ribbons. She helped her put on her dress, which was dark pink satin with lace sleeves and a bow at the neckline, which Emily insisted on tying herself. When they were both finally ready, Elizabeth took Emily by the hand and they sat down in the two chairs in her young ward’s room. Elizabeth had Emily pick out a book that she could read quietly to herself as they waited to be called downstairs.

Emily actually read through two books, only asking Elizabeth for assistance three times. Elizabeth was pleased with the girl’s progress, and her plan was to steer the girl to books that were a little more challenging during the summer months in the country.

At one point, Emily stopped, looking determinedly at Elizabeth. “I think you should put on a more colourful dress. You would look so much prettier!”

Elizabeth smiled softly. “Emily, I wear only grey or black because I am in mourning. When a year has passed since my father’s death, I will go back to wearing my other dresses.”

Emily’s lips turned down in a pout. “I wish you could look pretty tonight. Everyone downstairs will be dressed so finely.”

“Just a little while longer,” Elizabeth answered, surprised by the young girl’s comment.

At length, just as Emily was about to begin her third book, there was a tap on the door.

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered.

It was Lilia, and she peeked her head in. “They are ready for Miss Emily to sing now.”

Emily quickly stood up, and the maid clasped her hands together. “Why, don’t you look simply beautiful and all grown up!”

A smile graced Emily’s face, and in a very adult manner she said, “Thank you, Miss Lilia,” followed by a gracious curtsey. “Miss Bennet cannot look beautiful yet, for she is still in the morning.”

Elizabeth and Lilia chuckled at her innocent mistake. Elizabeth took the opportunity to gently correct her. “I am in mourning, Emily, not in the morning.”

“In mourning,” Emily repeated to Miss Lilia. She reached up for Elizabeth’s hand and the two walked downstairs.

As they came into the room, people were visiting with each other as they stood or sat around the parlour. This gave Elizabeth a few moments to go over some things with Emily, position her where she ought to stand, and then arrange her music at the piano. While she did so, her gaze swept quickly over the crowd. She let out a brief sigh of relief when she saw neither Miss Darcy nor Mr. Bingley.

Emily’s father walked over to his daughter and cleared his throat. Speaking to his guests, he said, “Our precious daughter, Emily, loves to sing, and we have asked her to entertain you tonight with one of her favourite songs.” He looked at Emily and then at Elizabeth, nodding for them to proceed.

Elizabeth played a short introduction, and then Emily began to sing. Her voice, mature beyond her youthful age, was clear and steady. Elizabeth was proud to see that the young girl remained poised, had a pleasant countenance, and seemed ever so confident.

Having completed the first verse, Elizabeth adeptly reached up to turn the page of her music. Her gaze was momentarily distracted by someone walking through the doorway. It was Miss Darcy.

Elizabeth forced her gaze back down to the music score to relocate her place; only a few errant keys brought her back nicely without doing the piece too much harm. But she did not have to look back up to see who had walked in with the young lady. As her eyes scanned the music, she could easily determine that it was not Mr. Bingley. It was Mr. Darcy!

As her gaze drifted unwittingly back up, their eyes met, followed by a slight jarring of the keys and an involuntary lowering of her head.
This cannot be!
As her heart raced, her eyes blurred, making the reading of notes very difficult. Fortunately for her, she had the song partly memorized, and once she had inwardly chided herself and turned her attention back to Emily, one would hardly know she had not played the piece precisely as written.

A look from Emily, however, displayed the young girl’s surprise at the sudden rearrangement of the piece.

When they finished with the song, Elizabeth collected herself and slowly closed the piece of music, taking it in her hands and forcing a smile upon her face before standing. It need not have mattered. The guests were all standing and clapping their hands in appreciation for Emily’s song. No one likely noticed Elizabeth’s blunder. Except Emily.

Elizabeth remained at the piano while the applause continued, allowing the young girl to receive all the adulation. It also gave Elizabeth a moment to gaze back over the crowd. She had not seen where Mr. Darcy and his sister went after she lowered her head, but she was curious to look upon him now that she was somewhat more composed.

Her eyes turned toward the left, sensing a pair of eyes upon her. He stood taller than those around him. She lifted her head, took in a deep breath, and acknowledged him with a brief, polite smile, as if she was merely seeing an old acquaintance. He
was
an old acquaintance! The fact that she had mercilessly refused his offer of marriage the last time she had seen him was another matter.

Mr. Darcy nodded slightly, causing Elizabeth to blush faintly. His eyes held hers, and she could only guess as to the meaning in his intense stare. She finally looked away and turned back to Emily.

The young girl ran into her arms, thrilled by the response of the crowd. Elizabeth leaned down to give the girl a hug, and then the two hurriedly returned upstairs.

Once up in Emily’s room, the young girl turned to Elizabeth. “What happened? You played the song differently than we had practiced!”

Elizabeth drew her hand over the young girl’s head, combing her fingers down her long hair. “I am so sorry, Emily. I lost my place for a moment, but I do not think anyone noticed. You did a fine job disguising my mistake.”

A satisfied smile graced Emily’s face. “I did, did I not?”

“You certainly did.”

After readying Emily for bed and allowing her to read a few more books, Elizabeth returned to her room. She was grateful for the solitude as she thought back to that moment when she saw Mr. Darcy walk in. While she had prepared herself for seeing Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley, she was certainly not expecting to encounter Mr. Darcy. She was surprised that it was not anger she felt when she first saw him. Perhaps all of Rosalyn’s words of praise about the man had begun to soften her prejudice against him. Certainly she knew, both from his letter and a year of reflection, that he was basically a good man, just as she had affirmed to Rosalyn.

As she thought about the moment she saw him walk in, she realized that she had been struck by the intensity of his eyes. When his gaze met hers, every thought about where she was and what she was doing vanished. While knowing the song well, it took her a moment to compose herself. She could only do that by averting her eyes and lowering her head so as not to see him.

She turned and saw a reflection of herself in her mirror. Confusing emotions began to swirl within as she noticed the grey dress. She recalled Emily’s words earlier, wishing she could have been prettier tonight. She was suddenly gripped with distress that Mr. Darcy had seen her that way. Perhaps that was the reason for the look in his eyes. He was appalled at how much she was altered.

She shook her head and pounded her fists against her dress. She must not allow herself to think this way. “I have no reason to fret about what he thinks of me,” she whispered to her reflection, “whether he thinks I am altered or not!”

When she finally crawled into bed, after listening for some time to the gaiety coming from downstairs, she could not help but wonder who Mr. Darcy would talk to, what he would say, and how Rosalyn would behave around him.

She closed her eyes as she thought how desperately Rosalyn might conduct herself if indeed she felt this would be her only opportunity to secure his notice. Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy well enough to know that he would not look kindly upon any behaviour displayed to attract his notice. She hoped Rosalyn would behave in a prudent and artless manner.