“He is a favorite of yours, then?”
She shot him a sharp look. “I suppose, in the same way that I prefer fleas to lice. Though that is unfair; if the lieutenant would simply return to France, I would think him a fine fellow.”
He spoke in a low voice. “Do you see all the French in England as being detestable, then?”
“Yes,” she said rashly. “And you do not.”
“I see them as men, some good, some bad, and I have yet to meet a single one who wishes to be here. They are following their Emperor’s orders, and they would tell you that we were the ones who started this war.” He glanced around as if to see if anyone might be listening.
Detestable man! “Only after they had invaded other countries! But I should have known you would take their side.”
“If you think considering them as individuals faced with a situation not of their choosing is taking their side, then yes, I do.”
With a huff, she turned to watch the dancers. No matter how handsome and amusing Mr. Darcy might be, he was a traitor, pure and simple.
At the end of the dance, she gave him only the curtest of thanks before Mr. Bingley came to claim her for the third dance.
Mr. Bingley brought her lemonade during the break before the fourth dance, returning just as Lydia descended upon them in all her glory, clad in a fashionable silk dress dripping with lace. She tapped Elizabeth’s arm with her fan. “La, Lizzy, is that not last year's dress?”
“It is three years old, as you know well,” said Elizabeth, but she bit her tongue before saying anything further about the source of Lydia's lovely gown. No matter how much she disapproved of Lydia's decision, she could not deny it had made her family’s life more comfortable. Not that Lydia cared about anyone's comfort but her own, of course.
When Lydia moved on to preen her extravagant feathers in front of the other officers’ wives, Bingley said, “Is that your youngest sister, then?”
“Sadly, it is. Forgive me for not introducing you. She is not fully respectable.”
“I thought she had married a French officer.”
Elizabeth flushed and moved closer to him so she could speak quietly. “She went through a marriage ceremony with him, it is true, but he has a wife and children in France. All indications are that he intends to return to his French wife someday, though Lydia is certain he loves only her and will never leave her.”
“I suppose your parents had no choice but to allow it.” Bingley sounded bitter.
“They did not try to stop it. He was quartered at Longbourn at the time, and Lydia was perfectly happy to succumb to his blandishments.”
“Taking over our country was quite bad enough, but how dare they behave as if our women are their playthings!” said Bingley with some heat.
“Do you have sisters, Mr. Bingley?”
“I do, but they have protected themselves, at least to the extent they wish to. They have been very successful in French society circles in London. No, it is more that I hate watching how the French officers swoop in on the nearest pretty girl and treat her as their personal property.” His scorn was strong enough to make Elizabeth wonder if he once had a tendre for one of those pretty girls.
Just then, Captain Reynard began to move in Elizabeth’s direction. “Oh dear,” she said softly to Mr. Bingley. “This may not be pleasant.”
***
Miss Bennet – Darcy was going to have difficulty not thinking of her as Titania – had an odd, stiff expression when the captain of the garrison asked her to dance, and she did not move with her usual smoothness as the music began. Something was amiss. Was there going to be trouble? Darcy watched closely, just in case.
The trouble started almost immediately. The captain was holding Miss Bennet too closely as they waltzed. She had been light on her feet when she danced with Darcy, but now she looked clumsy. Her face was in shadow, perhaps because she was looking down. The captain was speaking to her at length, but her replies appeared to be no more than a word or two.
Then the captain slid his hand downward from her waist to her hip. Judging by the pleased smirk on his face, it was no accident. Darcy’s hands wanted to clench into fists, but he forced them to relax and gritted his teeth instead. Visibly clenched fists could raise suspicions.
He could not afford to draw attention to himself by interrupting the dance, but he took a few deliberate strides until he was only a few steps away from the dancers, making it clear he was watching. Unfortunately, his mere observing presence seemed to have no effect on the captain’s behavior.
Miss Bennet was practically stumbling over her own feet. Damn the man! Darcy would give it another minute or two, but then he would have to intervene, even if it did draw the wrong sort of attention.
Then she tripped while turning. With a sharp cry she staggered backwards, favoring her left foot.
“How clumsy I am! Pray forgive me, captain; I seem to have twisted my ankle.” She began to hobble toward the seats by the wall.
The captain put his arm around her, his hand trespassing to a spot where it had no right to be. “Allow me to assist you, ma chérie.”
Rage clouded Darcy’s vision. Without stopping to consider his actions, he cut between them and scooped Miss Bennet up in his arms. “That is very kind of you, Captain, but I am sure Miss Bennet would not wish to be any trouble to you.” He carried her towards the entrance to the hall.
She hissed, “Put me down! My ankle is fine.”
He did not slacken his pace. “I know. I saw it all.” Carefully he set her down in the chair nearest the door and gestured to a servant. “Have my carriage brought around immediately.”
Elizabeth's face was flushed. “There is no need for any of this.”
That was hardly news. Why had he reacted so angrily when the captain attempted to take liberties? Simply stepping in and saying something might have sufficed to stop it, and it would have drawn far less attention to him. Now he might well have made an enemy he could not afford, all because he had not been able to tolerate that man touching a woman Darcy hardly even knew.
No, it was not just that. It had been the half hidden look of despair in Miss Bennet's fine eyes. It made him willing to do anything to rescue her, even if it meant forgetting his other responsibilities which ought to have taken precedence in his mind.
Now those fine eyes sparkled with irritation at him. Most likely she did not realize yet the consequences of what he had done. If he was luckier than he deserved, perhaps she never would. With a bow, he said, “I apologize if I overreacted.” He could say nothing more, not with all those ears listening to his every word.
The dance behind him ended. A minute later Miss Lucas joined them, still breathing quickly from the exercise. “Is something the matter?”
Darcy spoke in his most authoritative voice. “Miss Bennet has injured her ankle. I think it best to take her home directly.” From the expression of the nearby officer, his words had been noted, as he had intended.
Miss Lucas said something quiet into Miss Bennet's ear and received a nod in response. Her lips tightened. “Shall I inform Mr. Bingley?”
“I suspect there is no need. He is already headed this way.” Of course he was; no one could have missed the little scene Darcy had made.
After Darcy made a quick explanation to Bingley, a servant informed him the carriage was outside. This time Darcy let Miss Bennet lean on his arm as she limped to the carriage. He handed her in, followed by Miss Lucas.
Their dark heads bent together, the two women were already conversing in low tones when he followed Bingley into the carriage. He rapped his cane on the roof to signal the driver to start up.
“Thank you for your assistance,” said Miss Bennet, as if the words pained her. “It was a difficult situation.”
“What happened?” asked Miss Lucas.
“Captain Reynard, of course. He asked me to dance and of course I could not refuse. It was dreadful, just like what happened to Jane. First he asked about Jane and said wha
t a pity it was, then he told me I was almost as pretty as Jane, but in that horrible suggestive way he has. He said he wished to know me better, and he started to....Well, never mind. You can imagine.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I am so sorry.” Miss Lucas moved closer to her friend.
Miss Bennet said in an unsteady voice, “I do not think the consumption story would work twice, but I will think of something.”
Bingley cleared his throat. “Might I inquire who Jane is?”
The two ladies looked at each other. Miss Bennet, apparently reaching a decision, said, “Jane is my elder sister. She is very beautiful and the captain decided to pursue her. He was not offering marriage, and he threatened to force our family from Longbourn if she did not agree.”
“Despicable, completely despicable!” Bingley cried. “But I was told your elder sister was in the last stages of consumption.”
“That is what you are supposed to think. She did not want to be his mistress nor to injure our family by refusing, so she decided to have consumption instead. We shaved her head and told everyone her hair had fallen out, and I painted her face so it would look as if she had sores all over it. I stained handkerchiefs with blood from my arm, and Jane would pretend to cough into them. She now lives in isolation and the only people who see her are my father, Charlotte, and me. The rest of my family cannot be trusted.”
“That poor girl!” Bingley said. In a lower voice, he added, “That brave girl.”
“We have been hoping he would be transferred away. Unfortunately, it has not happened.” Her voice trembled.
Bingley leaned forward. “Do not despair. Darcy has bought you some time. The captain is unlikely to act while he thinks Darcy has an interest in you.”
“Devil take it, Bingley!” snapped Darcy. “Enough of that.”
“Why?” demanded his friend. “Should I let her live in terror to protect your precious privacy? You have done her a good turn; now let her have a little peace of mind.”
“It is not that simple!” Darcy avoided Miss Bennet's eyes.
After brief silence, Miss Bennet spoke in a level, restrained voice. “It seems I owe you more thanks than I knew. But why would a captain in the French army defer to you?” Apparently even in a situation this unpleasant, she was reluctant to be indebted to him.
Darcy said dismissively, “It is all foolishness. The French are under the impression that I am single-handedly preventing rebellion in Derbyshire.”
“And are you?”
“You must not be acquainted with the people of Derbyshire if you believe that I or any man could convince them not to rebel if they truly wished to.” His voice was sharper than he had intended.
“Why do the French think it, then?”
His temper snapped at her obvious disbelief. “I cannot tell you why they believe it but I can tell you this – that I would indeed stop a rebellion there if it were in my power, and it has nothing to do with favoring the French. A rebellion would be a pointless endeavor, apart from making the rivers run red with blood when the French took their inevitable reprisals. I would not want another Newcastle massacre or the burning of Portsmouth on my conscience.”
“Do you favor giving in to our conquerors to avoid risk?” Her voice was sharp.
“No. I favor keeping Englishmen from throwing their lives away when there is no chance of victory,” said Darcy.
“Lizzy,” said Miss Lucas in a low voice.
Miss Bennet shifted back on the bench, took several deep breaths and folded her hands in her lap. “My apologies, Mr. Darcy. We have all found our own ways to live with the French, and it is not my place to criticize the choices others have made. If you have spared me, even temporarily, from an untenable situation, I am grateful.” But it was easy to see her words were recited rather than coming from her heart.
“You have no need to apologize for your loyalty.” But his words were stilted. If only they could go back to the simplicity they had found in the bluebell wood! Rashly, he said, “I think I liked it better when I was Theophilus Thistle and you were pointing a pistol at me.”
Her lips twitched. “I am sorry I cannot oblige you by doing so again, but the pistol does not fit into my reticule.”
“If you did have it, I hope you would have used your bullet on a more deserving target at the assembly.”
“Do not tempt me!” But she smiled as she said it.
Miss Lucas, apparently deciding this was as much of a truce as she could hope for, began to discuss the weather in a determined manner.
As the carriage pulled up to Longbourn, Darcy said, “Miss Bennet, if it would be better for your family to believe you truly did injure your ankle, my walking stick is available for you to employ as you hobble in.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Thank you. It indeed would be wiser, and I would be glad to have your support for my story.”
He had plenty of practice at false stories, after all. Once upon a time, disguise of every sort had been his abhorrence. Now he could hardly recall when he had not worn a disguise.
As he handed Miss Bennet out of the carriage, she looked at him seriously and said, “Theophilus Thistle, you puzzle me exceedingly.”
He raised her gloved hand to his lips. “Queen Titania, if you should ever discover the answer to the puzzle, I hope you will share it with me.”
Her scent of lavender lingered even after she was gone.
***
Elizabeth continued to limp for the remainder of the evening, but in the morning she declared her ankle much improved. Otherwise her imaginary injury might prevent her from visiting Jane, and she did not want that.
She was still in the house when Mr. Bingley called to inquire after her recovery. It was a remarkable civility on his part, given that he knew she had not been injured at all, but Elizabeth was not inclined to complain.
Mrs. Bennet could not contain her excitement at this apparent sign of interest in her least favorite daughter, so after the briefest possible conversation, she suggested that Elizabeth should show Mr. Bingley the gardens. He accepted with alacrity.
Once outside, Elizabeth said, “I apologize for my mother's assumptions. Pray be assured I have no expectations of you or anyone else.” Would he realize she was referring to Mr. Darcy?
He laughed good-naturedly. “How could I have expectations when we established last night that Darcy has staked a claim to you?”
“Do not mention that! It is beyond embarrassing,” cried Elizabeth.
“He would have come with me today except that he dislikes leaving his sister alone in a place she does not know well. After going out last night, he felt he should stay with her today.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a most devoted brother.”
“He is. He keeps Georgiana with him wherever he travels. She feels safer that way.”
Elizabeth was in no mood to hear praise of Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Bingley’s words gave her an idea. “I too have a sister to whom I am devoted. I wonder if I might take advantage of your amiability to impose upon you to meet my sister Jane. She is so very isolated, you see, and the sight of a new face would cheer her immensely. I daresay she is quite sick of Charlotte and me.”
“I cannot imagine that to be true, but if you think it would please her, I would be more than happy to provide whatever amusement I may.”
“I thank you. It will brighten her day. But I pray you, do not tell her about the events of last night. It would upset her greatly.”
“Of course not.”
When they reached the empty stables, Elizabeth told Bingley to wait at a distance before she knocked three times at the door.
Jane opened the door with a smile. “Good morning, Lizzy!” She stepped back to allow her sister to enter.
“Actually, Jane, I have a surprise for you. Would you like a visitor?”
Jane stiffened. “Is she someone you trust? Should I prepare?” She ran her fingertips down her cheek to indicate putting on makeup.
“No. H
e knows the truth, and yes, I do trust him.”
Her sister’s cheeks grew pink. “In that case, I would be delighted to meet him.”
Elizabeth signaled to Mr. Bingley. He came forward with his customary amiable smile, but then his face took on a stunned expression which gave Elizabeth great satisfaction. Jane's hair had grown back enough to frame her face with golden curls. It suited her, and in a few months it would be long enough to pass for one of the fashionable cuts popular in London. And nothing could disguise the beauty of her face and form.
“Jane, dearest, may I present Mr. Bingley, who has recently let Netherfield Park? Mr. Bingley, this is my sister.”
He bowed. “It is a very great pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet, and an honor. Your sister has told me of your courage.”
Elizabeth led the way into Jane's sitting room. “Mr. Bingley and his friend, Mr. Darcy, were kind enough to escort Charlotte and me to last evening's assembly. I had the presence of mind to turn my ankle rather than dance with a particularly unpleasant partner, and as a result I learned that Mr. Bingley has a great deal of sympathy for ladies whom the French attempt to misuse. I am most obliged to him and to his friend for their assistance.”
Jane's eyes took on a warm glow. “Then I am also in your debt, Mr. Bingley. I thank you for helping my sister.”
Mr. Bingley looked down at his feet. “Darcy deserves more credit than I do. It was his quick thinking that saved the day.”
“Then I owe him my gratitude as well. Would you care to sit down? I am sorry I have nothing to offer you in the way of refreshment.”
“That is my fault,” said Elizabeth. “I should have gone back for a tea tray, but I did not wish to lose the opportunity to introduce you.”
“And I am glad you did!” declared Mr. Bingley.
It was long past the half hour typical of the morning call when Elizabeth finally escorted a reluctant Mr. Bingley outside. With a hint of mischief, she said, “It was very kind of you to give so much of your time to Jane's entertainment.”
He shook his head bemusedly. “It was far from a sacrifice. Your sister is an angel. That she should be forced into hiding and still retain such essential sweetness! I would not have believed it possible.”