Cover Reveal: Mysterious Mr. Darcy or When Pride Prevails

This is my cover reveal for the WIP I originally called When Pride Prevails. I do like that title, and I was tempted to keep it, but I decided to rename it Mysterious Mr. Darcy because that is how Elizabeth thinks of him. I hope you like the cover.

I’ve been struck down by the dreaded flu so I’ve had a difficult time finishing edits, as I had hoped, so there is a delay in the publication date. A thousand apologies, but even as I type this I’m having the hardest time staying awake! However, I would not want to disappoint you, so here is the promised Chapter 6.

Meanwhile, if you haven’t read the earlier chapters, you need to start with the Prologue here, then Chapter 1 here, and Chapter 2 here,  Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here and Chapter 5 here. Otherwise you might be a bit lost.  

———————–

Chapter 6

Two weeks later, the Bennets were invited to a dinner at Lucas Lodge. Thirty guests had been invited, and the Bennets had been included. Naturally, Mr. Bingley was to be the featured guest.

The Bennets were the first of the guests to arrive at the dinner, thanks to Mrs. Bennet, who wanted to discuss Mr. Bingley’s food preferences with Lady Lucas before he arrived. Maria greeted Elizabeth the moment she entered and dragged her into a corner.

“I have bad news, Lizzy. Mama has seated Mr. Bingley next to me. I did everything I could to convince her not to, but she’s still hoping he might prefer me over you, all evidence to the contrary.”

“You need not apologize, Maria. It’s only natural for her to use any opportunity she can to help you.”

“I suppose so.” Maria scrunched up her nose. “Unfortunately, that’s not the worst of it.”

What could be worse, in Maria Lucas’ opinion? The answer was obvious.

Elizabeth groaned. “Don’t tell me. She has seated me next to Mr. Darcy.”

Maria nodded. “I asked her not to, but she said there was no other way to arrange the table.”

Elizabeth was inclined to think Lady Lucas was being either callous, given that she knew very well that Mr. Darcy had snubbed Elizabeth, or she was exacting her revenge because Elizabeth had stolen Mr. Bingley from her daughter. Well, if she had intended to make Elizabeth feel uncomfortable, she was wide of the mark. Elizabeth thought back to her encounter with Mr. Darcy at Clarke’s. She did not particularly like him, but now that she had confronted him, she did not dislike him quite so much. She would not mind locking horns with him again.

“Well, I suppose I shall have to deal with him,” she said, cheerfully.

Maria looked relieved. “I’m glad Mama hasn’t ruined your evening. Perhaps you can even make the best of the situation and find out something more about our mysterious gentleman.”

“I shall consider it a challenge, then,” said Elizabeth. She resolved then and there that she would not let the evening pass without finding out at least one thing about the mysterious Mr. Darcy.

*

To Elizabeth’s delight, Mr. Bingley located her as soon as he came in, and in three swift steps was at her side.

“Miss Bennet. I do hope we are sitting next to each other at dinner.”

“I’m afraid we’re not. You are too important a guest to sit at my end of the table.”

His smile dropped. “It appears I am a victim of my own popularity. I wish I was not. I would much rather spend my time talking to you.”

“I am sure we will have an opportunity after dinner.”

He perked up. “Yes. We can play cards, or perhaps even dance. Promise you will be my partner at the card table, Miss Bennet.”

“I promise,” she said, laughing, “but I cannot guarantee I will help you win.”

“Oh! I don’t care about winning, as long as I can have your company.”

Having extracted her promise, he bounded off to join Sir Lucas.

Mr. Darcy entered the house looking withdrawn, and after greeting each of the other guests with a bow and a formal remark, did not utter another word until it was time for the guests to take their seats. He did not approach Elizabeth at all, though she did catch him looking in her direction more than once.

Then, as dinner was announced, and everyone moved to take their places, Lydia came up to Elizabeth and giggled.

“Poor Lizzy! I heard you are stuck with Mr. Silent all evening! Whatever will you do?”

The same thought had been passing through Elizabeth’s mind, but she felt compelled to come to Mr. Darcy’s defence.

“You should not say such things, Lydia. You don’t know anything about him.”

Lydia, headstrong as always, refused to be cowed. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s the truth.” Then as Mr. Darcy approached, Lydia gave her a significant look and moved away quickly.

Mr. Darcy stood by gravely as Elizabeth too, took her seat, and the footman pushed in her chair. He bowed to her before he sat down.

“Good evening, Miss Bennet.”

“Good evening, Mr. Darcy.”

He took up his napkin but said nothing further. She did the same, feeling the awkwardness of her position. She did not want to be the first to speak, because it was up to the gentleman to initiate a conversation. However, even when the footman came by with the soup, he did nothing more than clear his throat.

Well, if he was going to be so uncivil, then she would not talk to him, thought Elizabeth. Let him sit in silence the whole dinner.

Fortunately, the gentleman on her right, Mr. Harris, was much more effusive, and was willing to prattle on to anyone who would listen. At first, she was happy not to endure Mr. Darcy’s taciturn presence, but after several meandering accounts, she began to grow restless. Finally, Mr. Harris’s attention was drawn away by the lady seated on his other side, and Lizzy decided to take the plunge with Mr. Darcy.

“Cornwall must be very different from Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy. I have heard some areas of it are very wild. Is that the case where you live?”

He hesitated for an instant, then answered. “The moors are wild, but much of Cornwall looks like Hertfordshire, with its sheep, fields and hedgerows.”

“Do you live close to the sea, Mr. Darcy? Are the cliffs as rugged as they say?”

The corner of Mr. Darcy’s lips quirked. “Do you have an interest in geography, Miss Bennet?”

“Perhaps I do. Are you discouraging my curiosity, Mr. Darcy?  I am trying to become a little less provincial.”

“You are determined to present me as an anti-provincial, whatever you interpret that to be, Miss Bennet. I am not against curiosity. I merely tend to discourage it when it is aimed at me.”

Lizzy was about to retort, but was interrupted by Sir William, who raised his glass to make a toast.

“To our new landowner, Mr. Bingley. I hope we will make you feel very welcome.”

Mr. Bingley was basking in the attention, grinning widely. He raised his glass in return. “To many wonderful and lasting friendships.”

His gaze wandered around the table and lingered for several moments on Elizabeth. She smiled and raised her glass with everyone else, but heat flooded her cheeks. He ought not to have singled her out from the crowd like that. Had anyone noticed?

As the toast ended and everyone returned to their dinners, she did her best to hide her turmoil by turning all her attention to the venison stew in her plate.

“Is there anything wrong with your stew, Miss Bennet?” said Mr. Darcy. “You look as if you expect something to come walking out of it.”

“I certainly hope not,” she said, startled into laughter.

“It is very good stew, ma’am, but certainly not worthy of so much curiosity.”

There was no doubting the twinkle in his eye. She could not help smiling at him.

“I cannot promise you to refrain from curiosity, Mr. Darcy, but I will hold it back for the time being, if you promise to start another topic of conversation.”

Mr. Darcy wiped his mouth on his napkin and prepared to say something, but his neighbour Mrs. Twingly began to talk to him about the owner of Netherfield, Mr. Milbank, and Mr. Darcy was obliged to turn his attention to her.

Meanwhile, Mr. Harris, hearing the name, asked Elizabeth if she remembered Mr. Milbank’s dog.

“He was a Great Dane. Big as a horse. Never liked the look of him. What use is a big dog like that?”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth, remembering the big dog. “I was terrified of him when I was small. But when I grew older, I found out he was the gentlest creature. I was sad when he died.”

“I wasn’t,” said Mr. Harris. “Good riddance, I say. A dog like that will eat you out of house and home. I don’t suppose Mr. Milbank will return to Netherfield again. I heard he is quite the invalid now. He resides in Bath. For the waters, you know. It’s good to have healthy young stock at Netherfield.”

Elizabeth wondered what Mr. Bingley would think of being called ‘young stock’. Would he be amused? She did not know him well enough to judge his reaction. Did he have a sense of the ridiculous? Elizabeth did not think she could marry a gentleman who did not care to laugh.

Some time later Mr. Harris started to talk politics with one of the gentlemen across the table, and Elizabeth was able to resume her conversation with Mr. Darcy.

“Now, sir, where were we, when we were interrupted?”

“I do believe you were eager to discover the geography of Cornwall. ‘Tis a pity we do not have a globe, or I would point out the various towns and villages there.”

She chuckled. “Perhaps there is a globe in the nursery. Shall I ask one of the footmen to fetch it?”

Mr. Darcy’s lips twitched. “You are incorrigible, Miss Bennet. I do not think it would be considered good manners to do so.”

“A pity,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “However, since we cannot sit in silence for the rest of dinner, and you have not proposed another subject of conversation, Cornwall is as good a topic as any. Since you did not answer my query about the sea, I will ask you about the moors. Do you walk a great deal on the moors, Mr. Darcy?”

“I am not quite as fond of walking as you are, Miss Bennet, nor do I consider wildness a virtue.”

Lizzy looked down the table to her two sisters, who were laughing and talking loudly. Did Mr. Darcy’s statement have a double meaning, she wondered?

“But don’t you think there is a wonderful freedom in being alone in a landscape untouched by humans?”

“It is fashionable these days to express enthusiasm about wild landscapes, but I have not yet cultivated that taste. I do not particularly like to “wander lonely as a cloud,” as Mr. Wordsworth will have it.”

“I take it you like your landscapes tame and civilized, then, Mr. Darcy?”

“I see you disapprove, Miss Bennet, and you might even think me old fashioned.”

“I do disapprove,” said Lizzy. “I do not think Nature should be subjected to the whims of people.”

“It may be a whim, as you call it, but I confess that I prefer a landscape that produces a good harvest so that the tenants living on the land don’t starve. If you deem that a fault, Miss Bennet, then I readily admit to it.”

Lizzy considered his words. Was he speaking about his own tenants, or tenants overall? Was he himself a tenant? His words did not give her enough of a clue.

“Besides,” he continued, surprising her by elaborating. “Walking on the moors is not as appealing as you would expect. It is often windy, and the weather changes quickly. There are great mists that rise to swallow you up.”

“Surely the moors are not that fearful.”

“I prefer to cross the moors, Miss Bennet – if I must — either by horseback or in the comfort of my carriage if possible. I see nothing appealing in smugglers’ inns, highwaymen and horse thieves. I prefer to avoid them whenever possible.”

She laughed. “I suppose the moors are not so very different from Hamstead Heath, then, just outside London.”

Darcy choked suddenly on a piece of pie and went into such a fit of coughing, he was forced to leave the table.

Elizabeth watched him leave with concern. Should she go and help him? She was of two minds. In the end, she decided she did not want to give anyone – her mother in particular – a chance to call compromise if she and Mr. Darcy were found alone together. Instead, she discreetly asked one of the footmen to tend to Mr. Darcy and hoped that would be enough.

By the time Mr. Darcy returned, the covers were being removed and dinner was coming to an end, so she had no opportunity to inquire about his health as the ladies withdrew.

“Well?” said Maria, as they walked together to the drawing room. “Did you manage to worm any information out of our mysterious Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I failed completely.”

Despite her failure, however, Elizabeth could not help admiring Mr. Darcy’s skill in managing to ward off her questions.

*

The gentlemen did not linger over their port. Not long after, Sir William appeared, with Mr. Bingley at his side.

“Mr. Bingley has had a capital ideal. He has suggested we move the chairs to one side so we can have some dancing.” Sir William rubbed his hands together. “We should give the young people a chance to enjoy themselves. Would one of the ladies be kind enough to play some music?”

Miss Bingley immediately put herself forward, shooting a look towards Mr. Darcy, and murmuring that she didn’t care to dance with in any case. Mrs. Hurst joined her, ostensibly to turn the pages. However, as they examined the music offered and shuffled it, they began to whisper to each other, and Elizabeth had the feeling that they were making fun of those present.

The moment the music commenced, Mr. Bingley came up to Elizabeth.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Bennet? I particularly like this piece my sister is playing.”

He had singled her out again. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see her mother looking triumphant and talking to Lady Lucas.

Elizabeth wished her mother would refrain herself a little.

“What a delightful occasion this is, Miss Bennet, is it not?” said Mr. Bingley, as they moved together in the steps of the dance. “I have only been a short time in Meryton, and already I feel I know everyone.”

Elizabeth smiled. “That is because you are willing to make the effort to make friends. It is entirely to your credit that you have been embraced by the community.”

“Do you think so? But I do not see that I have done anything unusual. People here have been very welcoming, I could not see how I could do otherwise.”

Elizabeth seized the opportunity to bring up Mr. Darcy. Perhaps she could discover more about him through his friend.

“Not everyone in your party sees it that way, I am sure. Take Mr. Darcy, for example. He does not seem very happy here.”

Mr. Bingley’s normally open expression turned cautious.

Elizabeth pressed on. “The two of you seem entirely different, in fact. Have you been acquainted for long?”

Bingley looked relieved. This was a question he could answer. “Oh, yes. Forever. We were at school together.”

“But you are younger than he is. How did you become such good friends?”

“That’s easy. When I first arrived at Eton I was very shy—”

“—that is hard to believe,” Lizzy interjected.

Mr. Bingley beamed in response. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Miss Bennet. But at that point, I was a shy young boy from the north, and had little experience of the type of haughtiness that existed at Eton. I would have been bullied severely, but Darcy took me under his wing when a group of boys were taunting me, and somehow we hit it off at once. Our friendship has held through the years.”

Mr. Bingley had unknowingly given away a crumb of information about Mr. Darcy. Clearly Mr. Darcy was able to hold his own at Eton, which meant that, unlike Mr. Bingley, his money did not come from trade. Lizzy wondered once again about Mr. Darcy’s position in society.

“So what kind of family does Mr. Darcy come from?”

Mr. Bingley’s face reddened and he looked away, avoiding eye contact with Lizzy. “As you said earlier, Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy is very private and prefers to keep to himself.”

She was even more intrigued. Why was Mr. Darcy at such pains to conceal his past? She wanted to discover more, but she did not want to make Mr. Bingley uncomfortable. Besides, she had the feeling that he would not answer any further questions. She did not wish to antagonise Mr. Bingley simply to satisfy her curiosity about a gentleman who didn’t concern her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just trying to learn more about your friendship. I am not a gossip, Mr. Bingley.”

Part of her questioned that statement. Why was she trying to find out more about Mr. Darcy? Wasn’t it because she wanted to be the first to discover Mr. Darcy’s past, and to be able to prove that she had worn down his defences?

Suddenly, she felt ashamed of herself. Since when had she stooped so low? She knew the answer, of course. She was still smarting from his comment at the Assembly.

“I would not reveal any gentleman’s secrets, if he did not wish it.” She was perfectly serious.

Mr. Bingley brightened. “I never thought you could be a gossip, Miss Bennet, not for a moment, but I hope you don’t mind if I don’t answer any questions about Mr. Darcy. He is a good friend, and I wish to protect him from speculation.”

How very strange! Why did Mr. Bingley think his friend needed protection? Lizzy looked towards Mr. Darcy, who was standing away from everyone else, looking very ill at ease. His face was shuttered.

“I see. You need not worry, Mr. Bingley. I will not put you in an impossible situation. Your loyalty to your friend does you credit. Come, let us talk of something else.”

The tension in Mr. Bingley’s shoulders eased.

Elizabeth felt guilty for causing Mr. Bingley discomfort. He did not deserve it. She set her mind on making up to him by giving him her full attention. For the rest of the dance they spoke of other things, and once again, Elizabeth felt so much at ease with Mr. Bingley that it seemed strange to think they had met such a short time ago.

*

Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of Mr. Bingley’s friend. Darcy had at first scarcely considered her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, then he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. He was also forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness.

After watching Bingley dancing with Miss Bennet and evidently enjoying himself, he was seized by an unaccustomed desire to do so himself.

When the first dance finished, and Elizabeth moved in their direction, Sir William called out to her.

“My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.”

However, to Darcy’s surprise, Miss Bennet laughed Sir William’s suggestion off.  “Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

Darcy was by now growing more familiar with Miss Bennet’s impertinence, so, rather than taking offence, he said he would be delighted to dance with her, and put out his hand to lead her to the dance floor.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, but I believe my mother requires my presence.”

She walked quietly away, leaving Darcy to follow her movement as she crossed the room. He did not quite know what to make of her rejection. He had never been turned down in a dance by a young lady before. It was a novel experience. He could only conclude it was because she did not know of his fortune.

So this was what it was like not to be Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

~~

For those of you asking when the novel will be out, I am hoping to have it available the beginning of March. I’m sorry for the delay, but the dreaded flu drained away every ounce of my energy.

As always, it’s a joy to read your comments. I can’t wait to see what you think!