For The Sake Of Her Happiness Read online

  “I do not doubt your confidence, if I did indeed intend to disconcert you, that is!” countered Darcy, whose tone carried the mark of a man sure of himself.“ I intend no such thing. Nor do I think you truly believe I harbour such intentions,” he paused. “However, having met with you on a couple of different instances, I can say this with confidence - you do pass judgements about people and their intentions that do not reflect your own earnest opinions or ideas about them.”

  “You must be jesting!” exclaimed Elizabeth - her lips laughing, though her eyes did not. “Colonel Fitzwilliam,” her glance skipped towards his cousin. “Mr. Darcy might have plenty to say about me, about my passing of judgements, and how they might be unreliable. Well, I did not expect that the soundness of my intelligence or repute would face threat here. But it seems I have acquainted myself with a man who might pose a risk to both.” Having humoured his remarks with copious amounts of sarcasm, Elizabeth let the rest of her words spill out with a deliberate harshness, “IT is not in good spirits, Mr. Darcy, to disclose that which you might have learned about me in Hertfordshire - true or otherwise. What if I were to settle scores by revealing that about you that might unsettle your near and dear ones alike?”

  To that emphatic response, all Darcy had was a smile and a few words, “I have nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Good Lord! What has my cousin done now?” Colonel Fitzwilliam played along, “Forgone propriety of some sort? I have little idea of how he conducts himself in the presence of strangers.”

  “Oh yes, I shall tell you. But, do gather your spirits to hear a few bewildering tales. It was at a ball in Hertfordshire that I chanced upon him, at first. After having danced four dances to keep up appearances, he then strode off to a corner with no one for company, well aware that there were women sitting by, waiting for a partner to escort them to dance.”

  “And you must be aware that I was not familiar with any lady in Netherfield ball, apart from those who came with me.”

  “Of course. But, it is not as though one could not walk over and introduce himself to a lone woman, in a ball room? I presumed that was what such social events were for!” she smirked candidly. “Anyway , Colonel Fitzwilliam, do you have another request to make? If so, I am waiting to hear it.”

  “I shall not deny it,” Darcy asserted himself before his cousin would have a chance to mock the incident, “I could have acted differently, had I any plans to familiarise myself with strangers. However, my disposition is not best suited for mingling and socialising.”

  “And I wonder why that is so?” Elizabeth raised her brows at his cousin, “Why is it so, Colonel Fitzwilliam, that a well-bred, well-traveled man, of sound mind, claims to have a disposition that is not best suited for mingling and socialising?”

  “Because he will not burden himself with all the effort that socialising entails!”

  “Well, it is for a fact that I do not have the skills to keep a conversation freely flowing, not like many do, and definitely not with those people I share little interests with. Hints and subtleties are lost on me. And feigning sympathy with other’s issues - as is what often happens - is not something I can do.”

  “I play the piano, but I am nowhere as proficient as some others whom I have had the fortune of witnessing,” she quipped. “Yes , if I were to keep at it, regularly, I would surely improve. So, for this, I have no one to blame, but myself. Yet, it does not mean my fingers are incapable of playing with the same proficiency as any other.”

  Darcy found himself smiling at the implication. “A point well taken. And I am certain no one here, would contradict me if I spoke of how well you played. It is evident you have been making better use of your time than I have,” he uttered. “That t said, we both do not put on shows, for strangers.”

  It was then that Lady Catherine called out to them, not entirely comfortable about being left out of the chatter between her nephews and Miss Bennet.

  Elizabeth soon reverted to the pianoforte, and after remaining a silent spectator to the fresh piece, Lady Catherine pronounced her verdict.

  “Miss Bennet is good, though she would play better if she exercised discipline. Her fingers move nicely, but her inclination for music does not match my daughter’ s. Had Anne’ s health favoured it, she would have become an exquisite pianist.”

  Following Lady Catherine’s claims, Elizabeth hastily led her eyes towards Mr. Darcy to watch if the glowing compliments about his cousin would bring a change upon his countenance - be it a smile, or something deeper. But there was nothing to note. “Mr. Darcy nurtures no affection for Miss Anne de Bourgh ,” she finally concluded, “why. had Miss Bingley been his cousin instead, he might have been as inclined to marry her too.”

  Chapter 4

  “Dear Jane,

  “Hope this letter finds you in spirits and cheer. You will be surprised to learn that the most curious things have come to happen, in Hunsford, over the past week…”

  All of a sudden, the doorbell rang, giving her a start.

  “Charlotte and Maria have left for the village and cannot be back yet.” she looked up at the door, gradually setting down the inkpot. “Who could it be, then?”

  Since there was no sound of a carriage in the approach outside, the visitor was most likely not Lady Catherine either. But one could never be sure, and Elizabeth was prompted to put her incomplete message away to avoid all possibility of intrusive queries that her letter might be subjected to.

  However, when the door was opened, she nearly exclaimed at the sight of a visitor least expected. “Mr. Darcy?” a brief glance over his shoulder revealed there was no one else accompanying him. Indeed, it was Mr. Darcy, by himself, having come to call upon her!

  “Please, do come in.”

  “I must offer my apologies for disturbing you,” he frowned on observing the empty drawing-room he walked into. “I was under the impression that there were other members in the household too.”

  After taking his seat, and making a few general inquiries it seemed Mr. Darcy , had little else to say. The room was soon shrouded by a quietness as if it were the thickest woods at night.

  Having sat in emptiness for long enough, Elizabeth was urged to take it upon herself to come up with a subject that might quell the awkward silence. “Hertfordshire, and our last encounter thither,” was the first thought to come to her mind. For there were still many questions unanswered from their times spent there - above all, about the unexpected disappearance of those at Netherfield estate.

  “It came as quite a surprise to most,” she commenced calmly, “that everyone chose to leave the Netherfield mansion, unannounced, in November. Of course, Mr. Bingley must have been delighted to receive you all at London. I take it, he must have had no idea of your coming, since you all joined him hardly a day later, if my memory serves me right,” she drew a mellow breath, though her eyes were every bit as observant of his features as they could be. “So , how do Mr. Bingley and his sisters find their stay at London? Are they well?”

  “They are well. Thank you for asking.”

  When he would not follow the sentence with anything that might cure her curiosity, Elizabeth added, a moment later, “Is it true that Mr. Bingley might not return to Netherfield?”

  “He has never said so, in as many words,” Darcy replied calmly. “But I doubt he would be desirous of returning to Netherfield. At least not for extended stays - seeing how he has a growing number of friends and social events at London, that seem to keep him occupied.”

  “Forgive my impudence, but if the Bingleys do not intend to stay at Netherfield, would it not be more ideal for the sake of those living around that the estate be passed on to another family? The neighbourhood could do with the company of a thriving family there,” she sighed. “Then again, if Mr. Bingley rented the estate for the purpose of his own benefit, I suppose it would be unfair to expect him to give it up otherwise.”

  “If a family were to offer him a good price for it, I do not see any reason why he sh
ould refuse to sell.”

  With that, Elizabeth decided to pry no more. Any further discussions on Mr. Bingley, from her end, could start sounding indelicate; and she concluded it best to stay quiet till Mr. Darcy took it upon himself to broach a topic.

  When more than two minutes passed and all she did was look on, Darcy took the hint. “A very pleasant house this presents itself as. I hear Lady Catherine had a lot of repairs and restorative work done to it before Mr. Collins arrived here.”

  “I heard that too. And I must say her care and efforts do show the lodgings off, nicely.”

  His attention briefly slipped into thought. “In selecting his wife, Mr. Collins appears to have been wise and blessed. Mrs. Collins is a lovely woman.”

  “Oh, how true!” she agreed readily, life seeping into her tone. “His near and dear ones would take great comfort in the fact that Charlotte might be one of the few women in all of England, who would have accepted his proposal so heartily and made him so happy a husband ever since. Of course, I might not be able to say the same for her. While Charlotte is very intelligent. IT is difficult to discern if accepting Mr. Collins’ proposal was so wise and blessed a decision of hers. Yet, she does seem happy now and I am pleased for my friend.”

  “True. Besides, it must be very reassuring to her that she continues to live around the corner from her relatives and friends, after the wedding.”

  “Around the corner?” Elizabeth broke out into a startled chuckle, “fifty miles cannot possibly be ‘ around the corner’ for any carriage. Not even for one as fancy as yours, Mr. Darcy!”

  “On well-laid roads as these, fifty miles would take a traveler barely half a day to cover.” Darcy flicked his palm with nonchalance, “if that is not ‘ around the corner’ for a carriage, then what is?”

  “I would never have realised that distances would play such an important role when a woman chooses her future husband. Nor am I convinced by your calculations that Mrs. Collins lives near her own family.”

  “Ah, it is your fondness for Hertfordshire that speaks so. I presume you would consider a mere two lanes beyond the township of Longbourn as being far-flung!”

  At the mention of Hertfordshire, there came a hint of a smile on her sealed lips that he believed looked quite alluring. And its effects had to be catching, for he could feel it tug at his own lips .

  In turn, Elizabeth noticed the changes on him with pleasant surprise. A smile was one of the rarest expressions he wore, and she could not understand why he would not wear it more often. It did suit him handsomely.

  Attributing his amusement, to his possible conjectures about her recollection of Netherfield, Elizabeth continued, her cheeks a shade pinker, “There are several factors that influence a woman’s preferences on how close to her own family she would want to settle. If her husband is rich and can afford the costs of frequent long journeys, distance does not really come into play. However, in this instance, while Mr. Collins’ earnings are convenient, it would not be enough to see my friend visit her family often. Which compels me to think that Charlotte would not refer to Hunsford as ‘ close’ to Hertfordshire by any means - not even if it were only twenty-five miles away!”

  Mr. Darcy pulled his chair towards her. “Miss Bennet,” he suddenly announced, “you must not be so partial to Hertfordshire. You cannot imagine that you shall always live at Longbourn.”

  Elizabeth stared at the man as he drew closer, his face not very many inches apart from her own. “What could be the purpose of this change in demeanour?” she wondered, her heart skipping a beat in a manner that it had never done before.

  Watching her alarm, the gentleman in him swiftly recognised the futility of his actions and pulled his chair back.

  Returning to his original spot, Darcy picked up a newspaper from the side table. “Are you happy with your stay at Kent?”

  As his eyes glimpsed over a corner of the paper, she perceived how they were missing the warm haze that was a part of them, until half a minute ago. “Yes, I do like Kent.”

  And to her relief, their subsequent exchanges on the Kentish countryside drifted on with as much comfort and ease as their company would allow.

  “Eliza. Eliza,” a couple of lively calls rang at the door, bringing their withering conversation to its final conclusion.

  No sooner did Charlotte step inside with her sister, than she was left stunned by whom she saw in her drawing room. And despite other momentary assumptions, that Mr. Darcy had dropped by for the opportunity of a seemingly private meeting with Elizabeth, in the absence of all others, appeared to be the most likely scenario! “Eliza? Mr. Darcy?”

  “I must apologise once again, for calling upon Miss Bennet, unannounced. I had no idea that she was by herself.” Lingering on his chair for some time, without much else to convey, Mr. Darcy then arose and saw himself out.

  “What is going on? What are his intentions?” exclaimed Charlotte, as soon as he was out of earshot. “Elizabeth Bennet,” she rushed to take a seat by her friend, “Mr. Darcy must be harbouring feelings of love for you. Why else would he come to visit you in this manner?”

  “Oh, Charlotte,” with flushed cheeks, Elizabeth laughed her friend’s speculation off. “I should think not. He spent a good while, in abject silence. In fact, I fear we would have spoken nothing, had I not spoken first!”

  “I see.”

  “Maybe,” suggested Elizabeth, “he did not have anything else to keep him occupied?”

  “You may be right,” agreed Charlotte slowly, the liveliness in her tone dipping as though her own wishes had somehow been thwarted. “Maybe Mr. Darcy does not have a suitable pastime to keep him occupied at this time of the year.”

  As the days passed, the ladies had further reason to be convinced that their notions were true, for the cousins called upon them very often thereafter, and at no particular hour of the day either. After all, there was little sport left to be played in the fields. Rosings had nothing beyond the monotony of Lady Catherine’s speeches and a billiard table as a means for entertainment. Books could only keep one occupied for so long and young men did fancy their hours spent outdoors.

  In comparison, the cottage held the far greater lure in the choices of amusement it presented. Apart from sitting within walking distance of the estate, the lush parks and pathways allowed for a variety of lovely strolls amidst nature. Above all, the people who lived in the Collins’ lodge had the most delightful diversion to offer through conversation and laughter. And thus, the cousins managed to find their way to the cottage nearly every day - mostly visiting together, and at times, dropping by separately. There was an occasion or two when they were accompanied by their aunt as well.

  During these hours of mingling, Colonel Fitzwilliam was at the centre of most exchanges. As a skilled talker, he was best suited for it. That he was a gentleman through and through endeared him to the women all the more. All of these qualities, along with the undoubted truth that he held some form of affection for her, meant Elizabeth caught herself silently likening him to George Wickham, a man she held in high regard. True, Mr. Wickham was more charming and tender in his disposition, but the Colonel was certainly the more knowledgeable man.

  That said, it continued to be an unsolved mystery as to what amusement Mr. Darcy might derive from his hours spent at the cottage . Unlike his cousin, he was not fond of lengthy parleys and had the propensity to be seated at a corner for extended periods without a line forming on his face, or a syllable gracing his lips. When he did speak up, it was mostly awkward and sometimes felt forced, as if he had uttered words for the sake of decorum rather than personal pleasure - much to the bewilderment of Mrs. Collins and all others around.

  “What has got into you, dear cousin?” Colonel Fitzwilliam burst out into hearty laughter, on one occasion. “Would you not at least join us, with your characteristically reserved sentences and phrases?”

  And that told Charlotte that Mr. Darcy was not always so awkward, or silent. It led her to ponder, at leng
th, as to what might have brought this transformation in him. The most fitting answer her suspecting mind could chance upon was “love”. Despite being no romantic herself, she could not deny that there was no sentiment as effective as “love” at changing the personalities of even the most steadfast of people.

  “It is my dear Eliza? Could it be that Mr. Darcy has begun nurturing strong feelings of love towards Eliza?”

  To prove this to herself - partly because she believed her guesses to be true, and partly because she wished it to be true - she made a point to study his reactions around Elizabeth at both, Rosings and Hunsford. But it was an exercise that was to leave her more confused than before.

  On several different instances did she catch Mr. Darcy gazing at her friend - definitely more than he cared to gaze at anyone else. However, the meaning of those gazes was not clear. There was an unwavering intensity in them, but she could not discern longingness or tenderness.

  At length, when she could rein in her curiosity no longer, she did share the possibility with her friend. However, for Elizabeth, the very suggestion painted a very funny picture in her mind, and she laughed it off as she had done earlier.

  Following that episode, Charlotte chose to keep all observations to herself - specifically because she did not want to make Elizabeth hopeful of something that might not come to be. From having known her friend over the years, she believed, in her heart, that if Elizabeth were to ever learn that Mr. Darcy was smitten by her, she would lose a lot of dislike that she apparently had towards him.

  Regardless, that would not stop her from weaving benign dreams for her friend, as she occasionally lay on her bed, awake, at night. Some of those images would be a wedding between Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam. After all, the Colonel was a man of handsome qualities and wealth, who admired Elizabeth and who was admired by Elizabeth too. Yet and still, he could come nowhere close to the wealth and power that Mr. Darcy wielded in certain walks of life.