Mr Darcy's Fight for Love, page 6
She was ready to make peace with Darcy, as she secretly intended to encourage him to court her. They bowed and smiled while Darcy prepared to say a few words. He did not even care about the cold reception he got from her parents, who seemed interested only in Bingley. He accepted their attitude as a kind of punishment only because Elizabeth’s eyes were telling him otherwise. She was glad to see him. It was possible even to imagine she had changed her feelings for him.
Once in front of her, Darcy felt that the obstacles that existed between them all vanished away, as he never remembered a more perfect moment with her. There were people around, but they were alone in their blissfulness.
He was ready to extend his hand as in an invitation to accompany her to the dining room, finally confident that the moment he would be near her had come. ‘Nothing could happen now’—he thought when out of nowhere appeared the Viscount of Devonshire! His small hesitation had been enough for the viscount to ask Mr Bennet first for permission to lead Elizabeth to the dinner table. Surprised, Elizabeth looked at Darcy but she had to give her hand to the gentleman who was waiting with a smile on his face she could not decipher.
It took Darcy some time to understand what had happened; angry and frustrated he looked after Elizabeth and the viscount as they slowly walked across the room.
After the first moment of surprise, Elisabeth had to accept she was on the Viscount of Devonshire’s arm. She did not even remember seeing him in the room or even less near them, yet he played his trick and stole that moment from Darcy. Not wholly irritated by the viscount she had to admit it was a pleasant sensation to have two men interested in her.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth met the viscount a week before the dinner when he came to present his courtesies to Lady Sommershire. A distant cousin of the late Duchess of Sommershire he considered it his right to visit Sommershire Palace. In reality, he was not genuinely interested in the duke’s recovery. Any illness, accident, elopement, any happy event or tragic one was nothing but a piece of news he could peddle from house to house, continually aspiring to the title of the most informed gentleman in London.
And the Duke of Sommershire’s recovery was among the best news in years. All London wanted to know everything about the mysterious young gentleman who lost all his family in that terrible fire and survived only to live secluded on his estate for seven years.
The Viscount of Devonshire decided to see the truth for himself. He was handsome, elegant and well mannered; he had an ancient title and considerable wealth. Lady Sophie vaguely remembered him from a time when she was a young girl in his brother's home. She was so happy to have guests again that she received him without further information.
As always, lately, Elizabeth and Jane were at her side, but the viscount seemed utterly uninterested by the two sisters. The viscount’s only interests were the duke, his recovery and how he could meet him. But if Lady Sommershire had this new privilege of receiving guests, almost nothing had altered in the way the duke lived. He was still secluded in his apartments, the only change was…Mary. But Mary was a secret only those living in the palace knew about.
"Is it possible to greet His Grace?" the viscount finally asked, sure that his charm could work miracles. Lady Sophie was so firm in refusing him that he became even more curious. It was then he decided that one of the young girls near Sophie would be a good source of information. His indifference suddenly transformed into the warmest deference. He quickly decided that Elizabeth would be the right one for his inquiries. She was obviously not very accustomed to palace life, but of the two sisters, she looked to be the clever one.
"So, Miss Bennet," he addressed Elisabeth, "how do you like the life in London?”
Surprised, Elizabeth looked closely at him. She did not remember telling the viscount she did not live in London. Offended, at first, by his words she imagined that he had not found her sufficiently sophisticated to be from London. However, his friendly and open smile seemed not to bear any malice, so she responded with the same attitude. "Lady Sommershire is the most accomplished hostess, so we enjoy our stay in London."
“Although we do not see you and your sister at the parties or in Hyde Park for the morning ride,” he continued trying to charm her.
“I do not ride, Lord Devonshire,” she said with the most natural voice.
“My dear lady this could be easily changed, I could help you learn in no time!”
Though surprised and even slightly pleased, Elizabeth was not easy to fool. She began to understand that the benevolent gentleman had some secret intentions…and they did not necessarily regard her.
“You are very kind, sir,” she said, “but I must confess I had an accident when I was a child and since then I cannot say I love horses. But who knows, even Lady Sommershire invited me to accompany her to the morning ride…maybe in time I will overcome my fear of horses. Unlike me, Jane is an accomplished rider.”
"Oh, no!" Jane protested and blushed, "I ride, but I am far from being an accomplished rider."
"In that case, ladies, I will wait for an opportunity to invite you to dance at the first ball you attend this year, which I hope will be soon enough!"
To his annoyance, Lady Sommershire’s reply cut short his conversation and his visit. "My friends have just arrived; hopefully, in a few days Mr and Mrs Bennet will also be here and decide what parties are worthy of attending.”
Viscount of Devonshire left the palace empty-handed. Apart from the presence of some guests, he did not find anything to feed London's hunger for news and gossip.
He tried to find out information about the Bennets. Still, nobody knew them, so he decided to pay another visit in a short while.
To his immense pleasure, only after some days, he received an invitation to dinner. An excellent opportunity to stroll around the palace, and maybe get lucky and meet 'by accident' the duke. He was sure that this time the Bennet lady would give him the information he needed; he wanted just ten minutes alone with her. The stir before or after the dinner would be the right occasion.
But again just two days before the dinner, a bomb was dropped in the Ton. From the Regent's Palace came the news that the Duke of Sommershire intended to marry. No name was spoken and London literally began to boil. It never happened for such a piece of colossal news to be so poorly documented. In vain people tried to visit the Sommershire Palace or obtain an invitation from Lady Sommershire it seemed that the heavy curtain between Sommershire and the rest of the world still existed.
∞∞∞
Lying on the couch Lady Rothills was hardly following the nervous strolls of her lover, Lord Devonshire. Once again, he had received a blow to his reputation of being the most informed man in the Ton. He had found out about the duke’s wedding like everybody else from a source from the Regent’s Palace. The viscount was hungry for information.
“The Duke of Sommershire, accompanied by his aunt, asked the Regent permission to marry!”
“I cannot believe it,” Lady Amelie Rothills said with a lazy yet interested tone. “Who told you?”
“Lady Emily Atkinson, she is the wife of the Palace’s Attendant.”
“Then, it is true.”
“Of course it is true,” the viscount shouted, and it seems that it was no secret. The duke came in an open carriage in spite of the cold. It is said that the Regent had tears in his eyes when he saw the young duke. It is the first time in seven years that he left Sommershire. His Royal Highness is his godfather.”
“But how can he marry, he is only a boy,” Amelie asked with half a voice.
“No, my dear, he is not. Just remember he was around fourteen when the tragedy happened, exactly seven years ago. He is 21, he is a young gentleman.”
“Whom does he marry?”
Unfortunately, the news stopped there; from now on the viscount had only suppositions.
“Emily said that maybe his future wife is a commoner, but in any case, the duke has to have the Regent’s agreement to marry.”
“Imagine,” Amelie said with a wistful face, “how lucky that girl is!”
“I do not know how lucky she must be but imagine that we will have first-hand information as I will be present at that famous dinner!”
It was a splendid opportunity for him.
“It doesn’t matter anymore if I was not the first to find out about his marriage,” he told Lady Rothills. “What matters is to be first to know who this mysterious future wife is. I have a feeling this dinner is set for the duke to present his bride.”
Lady Rothills approved his statement.
“My dear,” she said for the first time really interested, “you will write me a note as soon as you find out who she is and, be sure, I will spread the news in no time. Everybody is waiting for you to give them the name.”
Chapter 12
Darcy found with much pleasure that his place at the table was near Elizabeth. Unfortunately, on her other side was the Viscount of Devonshire, the very one who had earlier ‘stolen’ Elizabeth from him.
The viscount was an old acquaintance, from the time Darcy spent almost all his time in London, partying. For more than two years he wasted his life in search of pleasure—of any type or kind—and Viscount George of Devonshire was among those who accompanied him in those adventures. They never liked each other as there was a matter of rivalry between them.
Back then, Darcy’s only wish was to have a good time—until he met the viscount. From that moment on, his life became a wild torment. It took Darcy some time to understand what was happening. At first, he considered the viscount, just another party fellow. Still, in less than a few months, he began to perceive the truth. George of Devonshire developed a dangerous obsession expressed by a continuous competition. If Darcy bought a new horse the very next day, the viscount also rode a new stallion. If Darcy showed the slightest inclination for a certain lady in their entourage, the viscount would try to gain her attention and oust him out of the lady's heart. For a time, Darcy wanted to avoid him, but it seemed George knew every one of his movements. What in the beginning had been a nuisance became in time a danger as the viscount was more and more audacious and impertinent.
His father's death had been a tragedy, but it also made Darcy reflect on his life and decide that a drastic change must be achieved. He left for Pemberley and changed his group of friends. Moreover, he put a definitive end to his joyful life. He became Georgiana’s guardian—a man with responsibilities—no more a foolish young gentleman in search of pleasure. He had not met George since their youth
He thought that the episode had really ended…only to find the viscount with the same flame in his eyes.
After almost ten years they still shared the same antipathy and sat at the table on both sides of the same lady.
∞∞∞
If Darcy had learned a lesson in the past it was never to let the viscount see how angry he was about his hostile acts. He buried his fury, smiled and approached the splendid lady who was sitting near him “How are you, Miss Elizabeth?” he whispered.
She smiled at his question, enjoying his coming so close to her, "I am well, Mr Darcy, now that I find friends.”
Hardly had she answered Darcy when the viscount asked her if she was not too cold.
It was a complicated situation to be attentive, as the two men were speaking almost at the same time.
Neither did she suspect the long-dated relationship between the two men, nor the fact that it took the shrewd viscount only a short glance to understand that his old rival had an interest in Miss Bennet. With malevolent satisfaction, he managed his first victory, taking Elizabeth from Darcy just a moment before he could make a move. Elizabeth enjoyed a short moment of vanity—as any woman would have when her favours were disputed by two men. The viscount, excellent observer, was also aware of it.
But while walking on the viscount’s arm, Elizabeth knew that in a short moment she would be reunited with Darcy as the places at the dinner table were decided by Lady Sommershire, the duke…and Mary.
“Are you sure you want to sit near Mr Darcy?” Mary asked more than once proving she knew much more than her sister imagined.
Elizabeth was sure and her smile revealed almost all her feelings. She wanted to be near Darcy and have the chance to talk with him. The dinner was to be a memorable event not only for Mary and Jane but for her too—Elizabeth decided long before she sat near Darcy.
“I did not know you are acquainted with Lady Sommershire," Darcy continued to whisper despite the noise. He did not want the viscount to hear their conversation.
‘Nor that you know the viscount,’ he wanted to add, but he considered it was wiser not to mention him.
“The young lady near the duke…” Elizabeth answered his question. Darcy stared at the delightful lady smiling to the duke, she had a familiar face, but he could not tell who she was.
"Yes…" he replied, already curious.
“She is Mary, my sister.”
Darcy could only stare at Mary Bennet, overcome by a vast astonishment. He looked after Bingley, but he was far away, on the opposite side of the table, entirely absorbed by Miss Jane.
“I did not recognise her…But what is she doing near the duke?” Darcy asked while Elizabeth had to move her head towards the viscount who was also speaking to her. Darcy in a white heat of furry was trying to control himself so as not to permit the viscount to see how troubled he was again.
As the excellent beef ragout was untouched on his plate, he forced himself to eat while Elizabeth talked to the viscount, then she quickly changed her interest to him again and said, "Mary is a huge surprise, even for us…Bigger than you could imagine!"
Her words made him even more curious, but the smile on Elizabeth's face told him it was all he would find out for that moment. He was silent again, concentrating on his meal, but decided to take Elizabeth far away from the viscount.
The good news was in her attitude, she was friendly and it was not only the surrounding atmosphere that made her look as though she enjoyed his presence. When he entered the parlour, her face reflected joy and benevolence while her smile, when he bowed, made him hope she had forgotten the past, perhaps even erased that horrible discussion that took place between them at Rosings.
He intended to lead her from the table, as soon as the dinner was over, but it might be a rather difficult task with the viscount nearby.
Meanwhile, he just made small talk about Meryton and Hunsford, making every effort to divert her attention from the viscount who was also using all his ruses.
Elisabeth was somewhat dizzy; it was not only the noise or the delicious dinner but also the two men, who, from the first moment on, began to fight for her favours. It was such an unexpected circumstance, far different from what she had imagined their meeting would be.
She had foreseen with pleasure the idea of meeting Darcy and solving the misadventure between them. For some time now, she regretted not only the way she had refused his proposal but the mere fact that she said no. Constantly finding new reasons to like him, she decided to let him court her and eventually to go further to a new proposal…this time one she would certainly accept.
But all changed when she found herself in the middle of a fight between two men. As it was a fight and she was not so sure she totally liked the circumstance. It was flattering to be the object of dispute, but at the same time, she wondered if it was really her they were fighting for…They seemed to know each other quite well and their rivalry had not begun that evening.
Deciding to calm down and enjoy the meal, she looked at Jane and Bingley who seemed like two birds in love, incapable of eating — just looking at each other. She lovingly envied her sister, who had such a simple dinner with the man she longed to be with. Most surely, she would be engaged by the end of the evening.
And then she looked at Mary who was so beautiful and happy near her duke. By now, all London knew that the Regent happily agreed to the duke’s marriage and even demanded to meet the future bride at the Palace.
The dinner was a triumph, all the guests agreed, but it was far from finishing.
The future bride looked astonished how the dinner became a surprise intended for her, and no one else but her. An exquisite cake in the shape of a swan, carried by four servants, was placed in front of her. Dressed in white sugar, the swan lay on a blue plate like a lake with waves. The duke’s eyes were fixed on Mary, thoroughly enjoying her excitement. She sat still incapable of moving or speaking until Jane and her mother showed her a ring at the top of the swan’s head, encrusted into the white covering.
Mary finally smiled. She took the ring looking at the duke who kissed her hand and simply said, “Dear friends and family, Miss Bennet has agreed to be my wife…so this dinner is marking our engagement. We will be married at Saint Paul’s in one month.”
That is all he said and then he took Mary’s hand and they left, even before the cake was cut.
Darcy observed in astonishment this Bennet sister whom he hardly knew. It would have been impossible to recognise in the elegant lady, the girl who played the piano poorly. He had to admit that all the Bennet family was a surprise. Even Mrs Bennet managed not to talk for once in her habitual annoying voice; as for Jane, she was shining at Bingley's arm.
"I congratulate you on your sister's engagement," Darcy said, trying to divert Elizabeth's attention from the viscount. Only a second ago, when Elizabeth bent to the table to eat the cake Darcy's eyes met the viscount's, noting that the same vicious flame burned as ten years ago. For a moment, Darcy had the uncomfortable impression that they were indeed back in their youth, in their game that he had always loathed.
