“May we help you with anything for your journey?” Elizabeth found herself asking, immediately regretting that she had made such a silly enquiry. He was the master—if he wished for something, he would certainly request it himself.
“No, thank you. I shall see you at dinner,” he concluded with a bow, then left. Behind him, the dog hesitated for a moment, looked at Elizabeth, but then the master called him and he ran away. As she glanced at the door, Elizabeth felt an unexpected and surprising regret and she needed a moment to gather herself before she resumed her task.
***
Fitzwilliam Darcy gazed out over the dinner table, trying to keep his concentration on what Mr. Farrell, the butler, was saying. However, as had happened several times in the last few weeks, he found himself distracted and struggling not to look at Miss Elizabeth as often as he would wish too.
His sudden departure was not so much necessary for his affairs as it was for his sanity and self-control.
For almost a month, he had been trying to conquer a most astonishing—even to himself—and disquieting battle, that he had never faced before in his seven and twenty years: a powerful attraction to Miss Elizabeth, the young woman employed to aid his household during this challenging time.
The first thing he had noticed even from the beginning were her pretty and uncommonly intelligent eyes. But he had seenmany pretty eyes before—some of them most willing to please him—and had never been impressed for more than an instant.
Then he found himself impressed by her manners, her strength of character and her bright mind—which he had discovered from his observations from afar, as well as from his men, Mrs. Reynolds and even from some people in Lambton who were speaking of her. Quite often he watched her from the window of his library, talking to some of the staff outside or simply walking in the garden in her spare time, followed by either his dog, who had grown much attached to her, or more than once by the two children, the sight of whom always pained him, reminding him of a distressing past.
Elizabeth always seemed at ease, whatever the situation or whoever her companions might be. She always acted naturally; leading the staff in a way that made them follow her with loyalty, in such a short time. He, Darcy—as his parents had done before—was always preoccupied with assuring his staff and tenants’ wellbeing, by providing them with what they needed. Elizabeth gave them nothing except her presence, and that seemed to be enough.
Then, he was impressed by her taste in books—superior to most ladies of his acquaintance. From the few and short encounters and conversations they had had, he noticed her determination in expressing her opinion and her stubbornness in reaching her goals. She did not hesitate to express her disagreement even to him, although she always did so with politeness and regard for his position as her employer. She was respectful but never humble.
As the days passed, Darcy was forced to admit to himself that Miss Elizabeth was the object of his thoughts more than was appropriate, more than was safe. When he first dreamed of her one night, and when he was eager to catch a glimpse of her the next morning, he realised he was in great danger.
He did not fear that he might be tempted to behave in a dishonourable way towards her—not by far. In fact, he barely saw her in person, barely spoke to her. But he was more attracted to her than he had ever been to any other woman. And he needed all his self-control to stay away from her, counting the days until her employment would end. And then perhaps he might meet her again one day, in less awkward circumstances, and find out more about her, without the concern that he might overstep the boundaries of decorum.
Even if she was not his employee, Miss Elizabeth’s situation in life was an obstacle that should dispel any notion of a future connection between them. The daughter of a small country gentleman from God knows where, with relatives and connections in trade and among his tenants, was as far from what the Mistress of Pemberley should be as possible.
But a simple, distant and proper friendship with such an intriguing and bright, witty and pretty young lady was a delight he might accept once she had returned to her family. Perhaps he might call on her uncle and aunt in London sometime in the future and thank them for allowing her to accept the job.
But all those were dreams in which Darcy indulged himself during the last dinner before his departure, while watching Elizabeth’s lovely face, seen for the first time framed by her soft curls rather than distorted by the severe hairstyle and cap she usually wore when she was working. For the time being, he had to leave immediately, hoping that time, distance, common sense and judgment would diminish that unreasonable attraction towards a young lady who was surely completely oblivious to his thoughts.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet was there with the only purpose of helping Mrs. Reynolds and putting the household back in order. For that, he would fairly pay her for her effort and when she was finished, she would return to her family. She was fully aware ofher purpose and of her responsibilities, while he felt angry with himself for his weakness and ashamed of his reflections.
By the time he returned with Georgiana, it would be late July and he would only have to bear her presence at Pemberley for another month. Or perhaps—hopefully—his infatuation would be gone by then.
Bonus Story – Chapter 5
Elizabeth stood in front of Pemberley Manor with Mrs. Reynolds, watching the main road, while some of the servants were trying to get a glimpse from the windows.
“We are both anxious and excited to finally have them back home, are we not, Elizabeth? And I am sure the entire staff feels the same.”
For some time, at her own request, the housekeeper had been calling Elizabeth by her given name, as a strong bond based on consideration as well as affection had grown between them.
“Indeed, Mrs. Reynolds,” she answered, her heart pounding with the painful awareness that in her case it was much more.
The master was returning to Pemberley together with his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy, and Elizabeth had been waiting and dreading the moment since they received the news, a fortnight ago.
With Mr. Darcy away, Elizabeth had spent the most tormenting month of her life in a tumult of feelings she could not recognise, nor understand.
Since she had been out, she had had the chance of knowing several young gentlemen. While her sister Jane—with her classic and flawless beauty—was always the centre of attention during parties or balls, there were a few who had favoured her. Some of them in Meryton, others in London while visiting her aunt. She had enjoyed the company of some more than others, but never had she given more than a thought to any of them. Jane had been in love once with a young man who wrote her poems, but his admiration had proved to be as feeble as his verses. To Elizabeth, the young men around her were mostly seen as a passing amusement.
And there she was, engaged in employment with Mr. Darcy—an honourable and fair gentleman who paid her exceedingly generously, treated her with the utmost respect and proper distant politeness, who had never looked at her or addressed her except for when they discussed household affairs—and there was not a single day, not a single hour when she did not think of him during his absence.
While attending to her duties, every object, every spot in the house reminded her of him. She spent more time than she should have in the library, even sitting in his personal chair, at his desk. She felt ashamed, horrified by such strange feelings that she could not rid herself of.
The days were better, as she was caught up with her responsibilities, and she was always in the company of either Mrs. Reynolds or some of the staff. But during the nights, her torment increased, as thinking of him kept her awake for hours and falling asleep was dangerous, as she would dream of him.
Her reasoning was strong enough to keep her mind clear. She understood she had become infatuated with a man who was outside her circle and who was nothing to her but her employer and the man who had given her the chance to help her father. She also realised that her admiration for him was mostly born from others’ high opinion of him, as she had had the chance during their limited interactions to witness too little of his true character.
With all this in mind, she hoped she would soon overcome this silly infatuation and return to her usual reasonable self.