The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (3 page)

Chastising himself, Darcy threaded his way through the crowd to where Richard and his two army compatriots were talking with a few other men about the state of the peace between England and France. “I do not believe Parliament will ever consent to surrender Malta to France. No matter what the treaty says,” said Major Broadmoor with a shake of his head. “Its strategic value is too great.”

“They already agreed. Do you believe they will not honor the treaty?” Monsieur duBois was a Frenchman Darcy and his friends had been introduced to by Mrs. Radnor. He spoke excellent, though heavily accented, English. “If they do not give up Malta, they will violate it.”

“Napoleon has already violated terms of the Treaty. He has not quitted the Batavian Republic,” noted Colonel Wilkins somewhat emphatically. “Many in England believe he never intended to honor his promises.”

“You may be correct,” shrugged duBois. “I do not agree with all of the Emperor’s actions.”

“If both nations do not meet the promises set down in the treaty, we will be at war once again,” said Major Broadmoor with a sigh.

“Yes, I am afraid so,” conceded duBois. “The emperor has already threatened war if Malta and Egypt are not evacuated.”

“Yes, and Parliament is recruiting more men for the navy,” put in Wilkins.

Broadmoor shook his head sadly. “If you ask me, Napoleon is simply taking this time to consolidate his hold on power and organize his army.”

“Hopefully the Treaty will hold for some time, though. I am thoroughly enjoying my visit to your fair city and would hate to cut it short,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said to duBois, apparently attempting to steer the conversation onto less gloomy – and controversial – topics.

“I am always pleased when visitors enjoy the city. Have you visited Notre Dame?” duBois seemed to welcome the change in subject.

Darcy left to collect more punch as the conversation turned to visiting the city’s sights, which he was already weary of despite the fact that they still had over a week of traveling remaining! Not that he was yearning to return to England; here, at least, he was relieved of the burden of pretending to Georgiana that everything was fine. Darcy ladled punch into a cut glass cup and then stood to admire the view from the window. Half an hour more, he calculated; then he could claim fatigue and leave.

“Darcy!” He turned to see Colonel Fitzwilliam approach with a lovely woman on his arm. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a very young face. “Here you are!” Richard said jovially. “I was explaining to Miss Howard how you yearned for an English woman to partner for a dance.”

Darcy’s eyes shot daggers at Richard, who smiled innocently. “I have it on good authority from her brother that she is quite an accomplished dancer. And she was born in Cornwall, so she is undoubtedly English.” Miss Howard tittered appreciatively at the joke.

Darcy suppressed a grimace. He had specifically told Richard he had no wish to dance or to be introduced to eligible young ladies, but his cousin was convinced that socializing would lift his spirits. Sighing, Darcy conceded defeat. “Miss Howard, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

Miss Howard blushed. “Thank you, yes.” They talked politely until the next dance formed, when Darcy led the young lady into position opposite him. It was an enormous ballroom and dancers were plentiful, Darcy saw with dismay, realizing it would be a long set.

As the music started, they danced in silence for a few minutes. Believing it was incumbent on him to offer conversation, Darcy cast about for an appropriate topic. “Do you miss Cornwall?”

She appeared confused. “How could I miss such a place when I can enjoy the pleasures of London and Paris?” She blushed. Apparently she blushed whenever she answered a question.

Darcy decided on a different strategy. “Do you enjoy reading?” He asked as they moved through the complicated dance figures, grateful that at least she was a fairly skilled dancer.

“Oh yes!” Her enthusiastic response was followed by another blush.

At least we have a common topic!
Darcy thought with relief as the steps of the dance drew them apart again. “What do you prefer to read? Poetry? Novels? Plays?” He asked when they came together once more.

“Not so much.”
What else?
Surely she does not read many history books!
“I prefer to read fashion magazines. Did you know that this season the fashion will be for long sleeves?”

“No, I did not,” Darcy suppressed an inner groan.
I will be revenged on Richard for this!

They held hands and turned in the steps of the dance. “Indeed! Why you should see the illustrations in Godey’s! Long sleeves everywhere. And sheer overskirts in very light colors on almost every page! I said to my mother, can you fathom such…?”

Miss Howard continued in this vein without any encouragement – or even participation – from Darcy, who found his thoughts wandering. At least her enthusiasm for the topic had chased away her blushes. Far from making him forget Elizabeth, this girl was making him appreciate his love’s intelligent conversation all the more – and reminding him of what he had lost.
When did Elizabeth become the standard to which I compare all other women?

As he awaited his turn to twirl his partner in the middle of the line, he saw another young woman, standing on the edge of the dancing, attempting to catch his eye and smiling coquettishly over her fan when he noticed her. Undoubtedly many of the English visitors here knew his identity and he was certain he would be subject to fortune-hunting women and their avaricious parents. He averted his gaze; he had no interest in playing such games.

With an effort of will he pulled his focus back to the intricate steps of the dance. Realizing that she should allow him to contribute to the conversation, Miss Howard blushed and inquired about his opinions on music – agreeing completely with everything he said.

Elizabeth had never simpered and agreed with his every opinion. Too late he realized it was simply that she did not desire his good opinion. He so rarely encountered young, eligible women who did not want his attention that he had not recognized her feelings for what they truly were.
I must cease obsessing about her!

The dance seemed to last forever. Darcy and Miss Howard moved down the line of dancers, encountering a couple that they had not yet danced with. Darcy stepped forward to take the hand of the new woman in the opposite corner and gazed up into her face. It was Elizabeth!

Chapter 2

Now I am hallucinating!
He thought at first.
My longing for her has addled my wits.
But when he glanced up once more he knew the woman was definitely Elizabeth. She appeared as shocked as he felt. “Mr. Darcy!” He had not hallucinated that.

Paralyzed by shock, Darcy faltered on the next step in the dance. A man from another couple inadvertently crashed into him, muttering an oath. “I beg your pardon,” Darcy muttered as he swerved to the side, only to trample a poor lady’s toes. With another apology, he finally retreated to his proper place and sought out Elizabeth, but she was swept away from him by the tide of the dance.

Mechanically, Darcy continued dancing, relieved that it was a dance he knew well, but he could not refrain from continually peering down the line of dancers to Elizabeth. She seemed flushed with surprise, but had managed to keep pace with the dance. Darcy glanced at her partner, a man of perhaps 40.
He’s much too old for her!
The surge of jealousy caught him off guard.

Darcy tried to make sense of her presence here.
What is she doing in France? How long will she stay? More importantly, how will she receive me?
Occasionally he had fantasized about encountering Elizabeth by accident, but now that he was faced with her actual presence he lacked confidence that he could change her opinion of him.

Will she even speak with me?
He entertained the hope that she had softened in her opinion of him after reading his letter, but he had to be realistic; it was equally possible she had torn up the letter without reading it.

However, he knew one thing for certain: he must attempt it.
Proceed slowly,
he cautioned himself.
You should be content if she treats you with civility.
Stealing another glance at Elizabeth, he recognized her yellow silk dress as one he had seen before, a very becoming frock that flattered her figure and caressed her curves. Clearly the intervening time had not diminished his attraction to her.

After he had neglected to answer several questions, his partner had given up attempts at conversation. When the dance ended, Darcy barely remembered to take her hand to lead her from the dance floor as he craned his neck to search the crowd for Elizabeth. There she was! She was glancing around as well. Was she searching for him? He tried not to raise his hopes, but they were acquaintances, so she would be rude not to greet him.

She glimpsed him and approached on her partner’s arm. Part of Darcy’s brain was rejoicing at her sheer nearness while another part was frozen with panic, certain that he would do or say something to chase her away again. His whole body was flushed with warmth and seemed to be suffering from a sudden loss of coordination, even his tongue.

“Mr. Darcy! What a surprise!” She was smiling, but her eyes slid away from his almost at once.

“Indeed.” It was all he could manage.

“May I introduce my Uncle, Edward Gardiner?”
Her uncle! Of course, not some new suitor.
Darcy smiled with relief.

“Mr. Gardiner, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Under the circumstances, Darcy was happy he had managed a coherent sentence.

“Likewise, Mr. Darcy.”

There was a pause and Darcy realized he must introduce his partner. “Mr. Gardiner. Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce Miss—” His mind was a blank; seeing Elizabeth so unexpectedly had addled his wits. What was her name? He could not remember it at all!
Could this get any worse?

“Miss Howard,” his partner supplied and the others returned her greeting. Apparently giving Darcy up as a lost cause, Miss Howard mumbled something about finding her partner for the next dance and hastened off. There was a long pause as Darcy silently berated himself.
Say something!

In the weeks since the disastrous proposal, he had envisioned what might occur if he were to encounter Elizabeth. He imagined being angry and cutting – or proud and superior, demonstrating all of the advantages in life she had forsaken in refusing him. Then, later, as he began to acknowledge the truth in some of her reproofs, he fantasized about being amiable and dashing, impressing her with his good qualities. And, always, he had dreamed of kissing her, removing the pins from her hair and… He stopped those thoughts before they went too far.

However, he had never imagined being tongue-tied and awkward.

“M-Miss Bennet. I must say I did not expect to find you in France.” There, that was an unexceptionable statement.

Elizabeth seemed uneasy and would not meet his eyes, instead looking down to fiddle with a button on one of her gloves. Was that because she wished to be away from here – talking to anyone else but him? “I had no such plans the last time I saw you,” she explained. “I was planning a trip to the Lake District with my Aunt and Uncle, but then unexpected business called my Uncle to France. They generously asked me to accompany them for the voyage.” Miss Bennet’s facility with words had not deserted
her
, he thought enviously. Perhaps she was not as anxious as he, since she had no concerns about earning his good opinion.

There was a lull in the conversation and he knew he should fill it. “Your parents are in good health?”

“Yes, they are all in excellent health.”

He cast about for another innocuous topic. “How have you liked France?” When Elizabeth glanced up at him and blushed, Darcy realized he was staring her rather warmly, but he could not draw his eyes away from her. He was like a thirsty man in the desert and she was his water. After such a long deprivation, he could not readily relinquish the sight of her.

“I have liked it very well indeed. It is quite different from London – in many ways, big and small. And it is simply enchanting at night.” Elizabeth managed a smile. Was it for him or for the city?

“What brings you to Paris, Mr. Darcy?” asked Mr. Gardiner.

What could he say?
I was trying to overcome my despair at never marrying your niece?
“My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, invited me to accompany him and a few of his friends. It was all very sudden. I had no thought of it a week ago.”

“Where are you stay—“ Mr. Gardiner was asking when a young man appeared at Elizabeth’s elbow.

“Miss Bennet, the next set is forming,” The man was fair and slender and carried himself well. His clothing was well-made and very fashionable. Darcy hated him immediately.