Blinded By Prejudice by KaraLynne Mackrory
Chapter Sixteen
The wind blew past us in a gust of frigid air as we descended from Mr Bingley’s carriage at Netherfield. I shivered, pulling my green cloak closer about me. The weather was certainly pushing autumn along now, dragging leaves along the gravel drive like yellow and orange fairies frolicking on the ground.
A few swirled around our skirts and settled at our feet for a breath of rest before being picked up and pushed along the pebbles again. I momentarily watched a cluster of them distractedly as they turned and changed directions as if dancing. Their haphazard journey towards the lawn beyond the drive was both disjointed and purposeful. All of a sudden, I felt inclined to rescue one of the blustering leaves. Ever since the accident I had felt like those leaves: swept about along a path, confusingly disjointed and swift, with no security to hold me in place or assure me the journey would end some place peaceful. At the same time, it often felt as though my future fate was purposeful and set, even without a single action on my part to direct it in any direction I might choose.
Abruptly, I chased after the cluster of leaves, stepping with haste towards their path to the verdant grass beyond. The cluster landed softly, pausing in temporary safety against a tuft of grass. Before they could be swept up again in their fateful path to some place against a shrub or rock, I reached down and captured several of them in my brown kid gloves.
I stared at them unseeingly, wondering whether or not I had done them a service to pluck them from their disjointed journey. Jane’s voice near my shoulder pulled me from my silly speculation.
“Those are pretty, Lizzy, but let us go in. The wind is quite biting, is it not?”
I looked up at her and smiled. Mr Bingley stood beside her with a polite nod of admiration for my collection. Beyond them, Mr Collins was already eagerly climbing the steps to the door without his host.
“They are quite captivating; I wished to see them closer. Forgive me for keeping you both in the cold like this. Let us go in.”
Together we turned to retrace my path along the drive back to the steps to Netherfield’s entrance. I looked down at the leaves in my hand, intending to let them continue on the wind’s destined path for them, but I could not release them. Instead, I tucked them in the pocket of my cloak and followed my sister and Mr Bingley up the steps and through the doors, open like a mouth ready to swallow me up.
I could not account for the strange flutter in the pace of my heart. All had been settled with Mr Darcy; therefore, there ought not to be any awkward conversations today. I was simply there to partake of tea and ensure that the gentleman knew he need not consent to his cousin’s schemes.
When we were finally out of the cold, I decided to hand only my gloves and bonnet to the footman for storage; my cloak was a soft one and the chill of the air without had not yet retreated from the entryway. Jane, too, kept her cloak, promising Mr Bingley she would tell him if she became too warm later.
I had not spared much thought for Mr Collins during our ride to Netherfield. Clearly, he was pleased to have the use of Mr Bingley’s carriage as he had previously chosen to daily walk the distance to Miss Bingley’s residence. It was a testament to the state of my mind that this news surprised me. I had given little thought as to how he got to Netherfield, only pleased that he did so and we were spared his company. Jane and I shared astonished glances during the ride that our cousin would exert himself physically to such a degree. True, Mr Bingley often sent him home in his carriage, a kindness that did not go without expressions of gratitude by Mr Collins no less than a half a dozen times during the brief ride to Netherfield this morning.
Now that we were inside and nearing the parlour, I realised I had once again thought little of my cousin as I heard his voice greeting Miss Bingley in a way that was singularly mortifying. He had not waited on Mr Bingley or a footman to show him the way, but had scurried ahead without us. Our delay meant that as we entered the room, we were just in time to see the superior look bestowed on Mr Collins by his betrothed as he bowed low in front of her. This was one aspect, one humiliation, I had not given due consideration. My eyes searched for Mr Darcy in the room and found him standing by himself some little distance from the rest of the occupants. I shuddered to consider what he must think of my relations, for Mr Collins could not be more excessive in his praise and pleasure in greeting his future wife.
If Mr Darcy felt anything, it was his alone to know, for his face gave nothing away. I squared my shoulders and proceeded further into the room. Holding my head high, I accepted the warm greetings of Georgiana and spared a polite smile for her mischief-making cousin. With little time at all, I was soon presented before my future spouse and found myself placing my hand in his extended one.
He bowed over our hands and, with the slightest of tugs, asked whether I wished to seat myself near him. I nodded and then belatedly spoke my agreement aloud for his benefit as I positioned myself on the sofa near him. Mr Darcy stood a moment longer, head cocked to me, listening until I settled before seating himself much closer to me than I had anticipated.
My heart raced with the movement of the springs beneath us and the warmth of his leg near mine. Discreetly, I attempted to shift to the side, speaking to Georgiana who still stood near us.
“Will you not join us?”
I nearly gasped in surprise to feel my wrist secured in Mr Darcy’s warm hand. No doubt my fidgeting told his keen ears the location of my hands at my knees. His palm slid down around my thumb to capture my hand in his.
“You are very welcome, Sister, if you wish,” Mr Darcy said, as if holding my hand in company was an everyday occurrence. “Richard may procure you a chair.”
My ability to speak was lost to me. I could easily see that shock was not the sentiment our companions expressed at Mr Darcy’s forwardness, but rather, pleasure.
Miss Darcy leant over her brother to place a kiss at his cheek before taking up her cousin’s arm. “I know you wish to speak to Elizabeth, so I shall return to my sewing box across the room for a time. But see here, Brother, you will have to share her at some point.”
Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, Mr Darcy smiled broadly, and I quivered, still attuned to the little pinpricks of sensation alive at every point where our skin touched. Suddenly, I regretted not leaving my cloak with my bonnet, for I was now becoming quite warm. Mr Darcy’s relations walked away, and we were left in silence.
I wished to pull my hand from his. I had not anticipated he would be demonstrative and, indeed, relied on the fact that Mr Darcy had always seemed to be a reserved man. Eyeing the way he held determinedly to my hand, I could almost laugh. At least he did not seem to notice the awkward praises emanating from my cousin as he fussed over his bride on the sofa.
I had just reached a point where I could nearly push the sensations in my hand out of my mind when he spoke, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.
“You are very quiet this morning, Elizabeth. Will you not even offer a greeting?”
It required no less than three swallows to clear my throat.
“Good morning, sir.”
Mr Darcy’s brow twitched, and he turned his head towards me. His eyes were searching, though they were projected slightly off had he been trying to see me.
“Thank you for coming.”
He spoke the words so sincerely and so quietly that I almost thought they had come from someone else. If it had not been for his crisp northern accent, I might have looked behind me.
“Mr Darcy, sir, you must know that you need not have me daily. I am pleased to do my part to see that you do not needlessly suffer, but you do have a choice.”
“I need not have you?”
“Well, you take my meaning, surely…of course I do not mean our marriage, only my visits… You do not need to exert yourself so often on my part.”
To my surprise, Mr Darcy chuckled, low and delicious, at my side. At first I was captured by its sound as it tickled my ear, then I was unsure as to its cause. I wracked my brain for what might amuse the gentleman so and could not come to any conclusion. My curiosity turned to frustration, for if he was mocking me for simply giving him a choice as he had suggested we do, then he could just—
Cutting off my fevered thoughts was Mr Darcy’s hand abandoning my fingers and pushing softly down upon my knee, holding it still. All my temper was, in an instant, balled up and pressed into a pit in my belly, low and distracting.
“What have I done now to deserve your ire, Elizabeth? You must help a poor man out; I cannot see at what point I offended you.”
“You laughed at me, sir!” I mustered with as much of that anger as I could.
“Ahh, then I apologise.” Mr Darcy’s fingers slid, leaving fiery paths, off my knee to capture my hand once again. “I did not laugh at you, Elizabeth, only the notion that your visit, and indeed any future ones, might be unwelcome to me.”
I had too many questions and no coherent way to decide with which one to lead. Eventually, I bit my lip and blurted, “What has you so altered? Is it the accident, a result of the blow to your head?”
Mr Darcy sat upright, taken aback by my forthright enquiry. “I beg your pardon. You may need to clarify your meaning. I had not thought I was.”
With my free hand, I reached up to my neck and pulled at the short curl at its nape. I continued to play nervously with it while I considered how to word my explanation. It would behove us both not to quarrel, but to find some kind of common understanding if we were ever to have any hopes of a contented marriage. Yet how was I tell the man sitting next to me, rubbing infuriating and distracting circles in the palm of my hand, that he was the most arrogant, terse individual of my acquaintance before a rock hit him about the head and made him pleasant? The thought of speaking so candidly produced a laugh from me and eased my nerves. Letting go of the curl at my neck, I rested my other hand again on my lap.
“And now, my dear, you are laughing at me.”
“No, no. It is only I was thinking of how to answer you.” Ignore his endearment, Lizzy, it is surely part of the head injury!
“Perhaps you might mention something that you find different about me. I am curious to know your thoughts as well as to understand whether there is truly something off about me. Perhaps it would be wise to summon the doctor to hear you. I have heard those with injuries to the head are the last to know when they are altered.”
I could detect from the tone of his voice that he was becoming troubled at the thought. I imagined that alongside his lost sight, the idea of having his personality altered would be a source of extreme unease. Quickly, I placed my other hand atop his at my lap, wishing to settle him.
“I do not mean to suggest that there may be further concerns for the physician. Please rest easy on that account. It is only that…”
I paused, looking down at our hands and marvelling at how natural they looked intertwined. His large square fingers gently wrapped around my tapered, smaller hands. His skin was slightly more tanned, no small surprise as I knew him to be a gentleman of sport, yet the contrast with my paler skin was all the more mesmerising. Abruptly, I remembered we were not alone and looked up in embarrassment to see what of our position was being observed. With relief, I saw that all other parties of the room were in their own private discussions. Our sofa was tucked somewhat safely behind most of the other seating in the room.
Mr Collins and Miss Bingley looked strange with their heads together as they were. Mr Bingley and Jane, less so, as I knew of their sentiments towards each other. And Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were equally ensconced in a whispered discussion. Georgiana glanced back at me and her eyes sparkled, forcing me to smile at her sweetness.
I looked at my companion and saw his brows pinched in frustration. Remembering he was waiting on my explanation, I resolved to put words to my thoughts.
“I only wonder whether it is the inevitability of our situation that makes you less…averse to it.”
“Do you refer to our marriage? The inevitability that we shall wed?”
I knew that Mr Darcy could not see my cheeks but instinct had me tipping my head down to hide the blush from him.
“Yes.”
“Have I given you indication that I am averse to it? Elizabeth, you know that I would not have left you to face the consequences of that day without me.”
“And I thank you for your honour, sir. I am not expressing myself well. Would it be acceptable if I am a little frank with you, Mr Darcy?”
“I would relish any chance to see inside your head, Elizabeth.”
“You see, sir, that is just it! You are so provoking now; you say such things that I feel as if I am speaking sometimes to a different person than the Mr Darcy I knew before the accident. Indeed, that gentleman hardly spoke at all unless intending to amaze the whole room!”
Mr Darcy hummed to himself, so quiet for a minute that I was certain I had offended him. But just as my apology was lapping at my lips, he turned to face me a little more. His abrupt movements were graceful and clumsy at the same time, such as when his leg brushed quite unavoidably against mine.
“If I am to rightly understand you, I speak differently now.”
I sighed; it seemed a little more frankness was necessary. I sent a silent prayer above for both patience and success. “You generally speak more and the things you say are a little disquieting. Not in a way that offends; rather, they are…kind.”
“Surely you do not expect that I would be otherwise to my betrothed!”
Mr Darcy pulled his hands from mine abruptly. Not painfully, but still I felt a shock at the swiftness of their removal. Awkwardly, I folded my own hands on each other, feeling every bit as though they ought to have some occupation, but with what, I knew not.
“No, please forgive me. I did not mean to suggest such a thing.”
We were silent for a minute, long enough to hear the floating sounds of whispers around the room press into the too-quiet air surrounding us.
“Mr Darcy, would you not agree that before the accident, we were often at odds? We have not had many moments of charity in our acquaintance. Indeed, I believe you once accused me of wilfully misunderstanding you.”
I feared the day could not be saved with how long it took for my companion to respond.
“I had not ever considered us at odds, Elizabeth. Rather, I found the liveliness of your mind drew me into any number of fascinating and engaging discussions.”
“Oh.” That was a revelation of sorts. Discussions? Surely, we were at times bordering on uncivil.
“I see your father was correct.”
This distracted me sufficiently. I questioned him but received no further clarity.
“No matter, I shall tell you one day. But let us continue our previous topic. I believe I may have hit upon a little of your meaning. Perhaps you might clarify more, so I can be sure without further misunderstanding.”
I found myself pulling at the short length of the curl at my nape again as I explained in as careful and halting tones as I could.
“It only seems, sir, that perhaps knowing we must marry has made you less inclined to quarrel with me and more apt to speak—”
“‘Provokingly’, I believe that is how you described it, yes? Perhaps you might tell me what you consider ‘provoking’.”
“Well, how about when you said you wished to see inside my head? To be quite honest, it made me blush, sir, and it is unlike the way you used to argue with me.”
Mr Darcy rubbed his jaw with one hand, making sounds deep in his throat. With the other hand he reached out to me in clear invitation. I looked about, and seeing all were still engaged in their own discussions, I eyed him as I placed my hand in his. I saw that the moment our hands touched, there was a softness about his eyes.
“This too,” I said, lifting our entwined hands, “is a little unexpected.”