Rose and Lavender Water 09

Rose and Lavender Water

Part the Ninth

The waltz was a daring dance that was only recently introduced to good society.  It allowed a lady and a gentleman to hold one another in a close embrace.

She could feel Darcy’s nose in her hair.

“You smell like rose water,” he sighed in her ear.

“I always smell of rose water,” she reminded him.  “I realize it is a provincial scent.”

“When I dream of you, I shall always be reminded of roses,” he told her in a contented whisper, his fingers rubbing against hers.  “How I long to see you amongst the roses at Pemberley.  I shall have them cut for you every day while they are in season and order them to be grown in the hot houses so you shall have them even in Winter.”

Bella blushed, feeling a hotness in her cheeks.  She was glad Darcy could not see it in their close embrace.

“Surely,” she sighed, licking her lips carefully as they suddenly felt dry, “surely this past fortnight you have been amongst more elegant young ladies than I.”

Darcy was quiet for several moments and Bella was contented to dance.

Then, he spoke: “The Misses Bridgerton hold no attraction to me.  The younger three are children and the eldest is a society miss who has not an original thought in her head.  Though I hope, as Bridgerton is my closest friend, you should become friends with the Misses Bridgerton as you will be much in their company in Town.”

Darcy was speaking as if it was certain he would marry her, as if he was certain of Bridgerton’s good opinion.  As if he had already asked and Bella had already answered.

“I did promise to visit Mary in Kent,” she told him carefully, looking up into his verdant gaze.

Grimacing, Darcy turned her.  “I believe I remember you mentioning Mr. Collins living in Kent.”

“Mr. Collins,” she told him carefully, “has the living at Hunsford under the patronage of Lady Catherine De Bourg.  He has positively informed us that she is your aunt.  He was recently ordained.”

“Your cousin is my aunt’s cleric,” he ground out unhappily.

“He is to inherit Longbourn,” she reminded him.  “Although serving in the church is a profession, Mr. Collins is a gentleman.  It is an arrangement that suits everyone.”

He was silent for several long moments, though he did pull her infinitesimally closer.  “I suppose it cannot be helped.  I shall have Lady Catherine mark him for a bishopric in the next five years.”

Bella was surprised.  She knew this magnanimous action was made out of Darcy’s self-interest to be free of an unwanted relation, but she was appreciative of it nonetheless.  “Perhaps it could be somewhere that I might visit my sister.  A bishop’s wife is not someone of whom you need be ashamed.”

“No,” Darcy agreed possessively.  “I never wish to be ashamed of you.”

The strings played a flourish and Darcy reluctantly let her go.  Bella’s violet gaze looked into his gaze and she curtseyed deeply before she allowed Darcy to lead her off the floor. 

Mr. Bridgerton was leading a pleased looking Charlotte Lucas toward a chair.  It seemed as if Sir William had introduced him to his own daughter.  That was sly of him.  Bridgerton left her in a chair next to Lady Lucas before approaching Bella and Darcy with a wide smile on his face. 

“I believe the next set is mine,” he apologized, slapping Darcy on the back.  He was a good several inches taller than Darcy, although Darcy was certainly tall himself.  “I hope you are looking forward to the dance, Miss Bennet.”

She smiled at him. “I should like nothing better, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Bridgerton seemed pleased with her answer.  “And your third set?  Have you promised that to anyone?”

“Mr. Bingley.  My fourth is promised to my cousin, Mr. Collins.”

“Shall I ask after your fifth?”  He leaned forward as if asking after a confidence.

“Henry Lucas.”

“Ah, I just danced with Charlotte Lucas.  That is Sir William’s boy,” he guessed.  “The supper set belongs to Darcy and then we break for our meal.  I shall not dance that set myself as I wish to join the two of you for our repast.  I understand, Miss Bennet, that it is likely you and Miss Mary Bennet shall perform.”

“We often do,” Bella agreed.  “I sing while Mary accompanies me on the pianoforte.”

“I look forward to the time when Georgiana accompanies her on the pianoforte,” Darcy informed his friend.  “They will make a most elegant duet.”

“My own sisters Daphne and Francesca play,” Bridgerton informed her.  “Hyacinth is still learning.  She is quite young.”

“I understand you have four sisters,” Bella checked.

“Yes, Eloise,” he agreed.  “She is accomplished in her correspondence.  She is always writing to someone.  When you meet her, which I am sure is only a matter of time, you are sure to become one of her correspondents during the Autumn and Winter months and you can expect pages upon pages of letters.”

“Indeed,” she replied.  “I look forward to it.  At present, I have no serious correspondents.  My Aunt Gardiner writes to Mama and not to me, and my cousin Mariah is but thirteen years of age and has not learnt the pleasure of letter writing.”

“Poor Mariah,” Bridgerton agreed.  “She will grow up, I am sure.”

The strings picked up and Bridgerton looked over his shoulder.  “That is our cue,” he told them.  He looked apologetically at Darcy, who gave Bella’s hand over to his friend.  Darcy had not let it go at all since he had escorted Bella off of the dance floor despite the fact that this defied the rules of good society.  No one, fortunately, had seemed to notice, given that their hands were hidden in her skirts, but they may not be so lucky a second time.

Bridgerton led Bella to the dance and they stood opposite each other.

The downbeat started and the couple to the right of them glided the center of the line, twisted around each other and then traded places.

At the next downbeat, Bridgerton and Bella took two steps forward, arms outstretched, and danced around each other, and exchanged places.

“I understand,” Bridgerton opened with, “that you and your sister Miss Mary are the youngest of four sisters.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, as the couple to their right were dancing around one another again.  “Mary and I are quite close.”

“It is only natural,” Bridgerton agreed as they danced around each other again, pausing to look at each other, before resuming their original places.  Bridgerton’s eyes were a deep blue, much deeper than Mary’s and her other sisters’ eyes.  They sparkled with good humor.  “I understand congratulations are in order.  I heard she is engaged to a Mr. Collins of Hunsford.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, “it is the most happy thought.”

“Are you sad to lose her?”

“Most sincerely,” (the couple to their right crossed places and moved down the line.). “I wish she were not going so far as Kent.  I shall be lonely without her.”

“I notice that your other sisters resemble one another closely while you, forgive me, are quite dark in looks.”

“That is true,” she and Bridgerton were gliding across each other, going down the line but crossing the line at the same time, “but if you place Mary and I beside one another, you will see we have the exact turn of face, the same nose, the same chin, the same cheekbones, the same eye shape.  We are mirrors of each other.  It is only our coloring that differs.”

“Indeed?” Bridgerton asked.  “I had not realized.  Do you mirror each other in other aspects of your life?”

Bella opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Miss King crying out further down the line before she rushed off, tears streaming down her face.  Wickham took two steps toward her, paused, and then stormed off the dance floor in the opposite direction—directly toward Elizabeth who was talking to Charlotte Lucas.

Elizabeth looked pleased with herself.

The dance required Bella to move down the set, and she moved with more form than elegance, trying to recover myself.  “I beg pardon, Mr. Bridgerton, you were saying?”

“I was asking about your pursuits.  Do you and Miss Mary share the same interests?”

“No,” she told him, but she could not elaborate.  The orchestra sounded the flourish and they were obliged to end the dance and she curtseyed to Bridgerton.

Turning to the players, she politely clapped to them before turning back to her partner.  He approached her with an affable smile.

“I understand you read poetry.”

“I do,” she told him.  “At the moment, however, I am reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Shakespeare.  Always a wonderful standby.”

“I am most whimsical at the moment,” she confessed.  “Perhaps it has been watching Mary become engaged.  It has made me long for explanations on the origins of love and Puck, a vanguard of the fairy court, is as good of an explanation as any.”

“Do you think such a malicious elf is responsible for the follies of the heart?”

“Perhaps not now,” she admitted with a smile, “but in a fairy story, it could be so.”

He smiled down at her and nodded.

The strings picked up again, signaling the second dance of the set, and the line quickly formed again.  Bridgerton smiled at her widely, and Bella could not help but smile back, turning with the downbeat, ready to enjoy the dance.

The third set was with Bingley.

It was about this time that Bella noticed that when Darcy was not regarding her or speaking with Bridgerton, he was regarding Jane and Bingley closely.  She wondered why it would be so.  Why did he care about the working of his friend’s heart when he had never noticed before this evening?  It was most perplexing.

Still, she did not let that ruin her evening.

At one point, she and Mary were sitting together while Mr. Collins was fetching them ices, and Mary sighed happily. 

“It is so wondrous to be at a ball and engaged!”

“Indeed.  Does the world look that much differently?”

“The world seems so much brighter, so much clearer!” Mary related.  “All the lights are sparkling.  There is nothing wrong with the world!  Nothing,” she paused, considering, “nothing but the old hurt.”

“Mary,” Bella sighed, taking her sister’s gloved hand and kissing it.  “I would take this pain for you if I could.”

“I know you would,” Mary murmured before changing the subject.  “If only all could be resolved for you and Mr. Darcy!”

Bella looked at her archly.  “I believe I have passed whatever test Mr. Bridgerton has set for me.  We shall have to see, however.”

“Then all shall be well,” Mary surmised just as Mr. Collins was coming up. 

They smiled at him and accepted their ices.  They were a little melted, but Bella would never complain.  As soon as she was finished, she was sure to leave the couple to themselves as she did not wish to intrude.

The supper set was with Darcy, but they only danced the first dance.  She was surprised that at the flourish of the strings, he led her off of the dance floor and out through the rooms until they reached a door.

“What is this?” she asked.

“I wish to speak to you,” he told her.  “If I may be so bold.”

Was this the moment? Bella wondered.  Is this when he would ask her to be his wife?

He turned toward her, his green eyes searching hers, before he opened the door and pushed it open.

At first, all Bella could see was light.  A candle was set in front of a mirror and it was reflecting into her eyes.  She shaded them and took a hesitant step forward, but she heard shuffling.  Then there was a moan.

“Wickham!” Darcy shouted.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Another moment and the mirror had been turned so it no longer shone in her eyes.  There were several candles illuminating what turned out to be a study.  Behind the desk was a bookcase and trapped against the bookcase, her dress hiked up and her legs spread wide, with Wickham pressed between her thighs, was none other than her sister—

“E-Elizabeth?” she breathed out in shock.

A second later, Elizabeth’s hands pressed against Wickham’s shoulders, she climbed down from where she was perched.  Wickham backed up from her and adjusted his britches in a lewd manner and Bella looked away.  She heard Elizabeth searching for something and a moment later, Bella spotted her small clothes, discarded on the floor.  She leaned forward and picked them up, holding them out to her, not uttering a word. 

Elizabeth accepted them and slipped out of the study a moment later.  She did not speak a word.  What could she have said?

Bella’s gaze followed her out.

“Well, Darce—” Wickham greeted, leaning up against the desk.

Bella stared at him.

“I should call you out.”

“You did not call me out for Georgiana, why would you call me out for this young lady?” Wickham asked with a lascivious grin on his lips.  “Of course, I got farther with Lizzy—”

Darcy surged forward, but Bella tugged on his arm to hold him back.

“Don’t,” she begged.  “He wants to provoke you.”

Darcy looked back down at her and relaxed.  “You should never have seen that.”

“I do not know what it is I have seen,” she admitted carefully.  “Perhaps we should go.”

Wickham smacked his lips.  “Perhaps you should.  I could get Lizzy back here.”

Darcy, in control of his passions now, looked Wickham over coolly.  “You will leave this house immediately and you shall not return.”

“Whyever would I do that, Darce?”

“Because you do not wish for me to tell Mr. Bennet what you did to his daughter.”

Wickham looked surprised.  “You mean to say I can buy the great Fitzwilliam Darcy’s silence?”  His eyes turned to Bella.  He looked so like Darcy in that moment that Bella’s breath almost caught.  “You wish to keep Isabella Bennet’s honor intact so badly that you will not breathe a word?”  He allowed his eyes to travel down Bella slowly.  It made her feel dirty.

Darcy immediately stepped in front of her.

“I will not offer you the courtesy twice, Wickham.”

“Very well,” Wickham agreed, his eyes still on Bella.  “I shall go.  Miss King is angry with me anyway and, if I wish for my engagement to stand, I should go before my actions anger her any further.”  His eyes switched from Bella to Darcy.  They held each other’s gazes for several long moments and Bella held her breath.  Then, suddenly, with no warning at all, Wickham dropped his gaze, as if beaten, and went to the door and slunk out of it.  It clicked shut behind him.

Bella let out a breath she did not realize she was holding.

Darcy went to the door to check it and then turned to Bella, desperation in his eyes.  “We must marry immediately before scandal can touch your family.  Then you must never have contact with them ever again.”

Bella, however, was not listening.  “What just happened?”  Her violet gaze sought out Darcy.  “What were they doing?”

“Isabella—” Darcy placated, but she held up her hand to silence him.

“I do not comprehend what I just witnessed.”

“It is not for a young lady to comprehend.  It does you credit.”

She searched his gaze for any falsehood but found none.  Nodding, she took a deep breath and leaned up against the desk.  “What do you propose?”

“I will call on your father tomorrow and ask for your hand in marriage.  Then I will go to Town, gain a special license, and we can be married by the end of the week.  Then we, and the rest of the Netherfield party, will go to Town for Christmastide.”

“I must return for Mary’s wedding,” she told him sternly.

He looked as if he was going to object, but she held her hand up again.  “I will not be gainsaid.  You have told me that you cannot countenance my relations.  I understand that.  You have told me you wish to avoid the scandal we have witnessed.  I understand that.  However, Mary is my dearest sister.  One morning in my family’s company will not bring about your ruin.  Then I will be married, she will be married, and neither of us will be Bennet women any longer.”

He deflated.  “When is the wedding?”

“The third Sunday of Advent.”

Darcy looked thoughtful.  “I shall have to have Wickham kicked out of the Militia before that so he is not still in residence.”

“I am sure you will think of a course of action,” she soothed, coming up to him and reaching up to him, laying her hands on his clothed chest.  “He is a reprobate.  He must have other bad qualities.”

Darcy reached up and took her left hand in his, entwining their fingers.  “He has several.”

“Then all will be well,” she told him. 

They descended into silence, just breathing each other in.

From behind the door, they began to hear movement.

“The supper set is over.  We should join the others,” she told him gently.

He nodded.  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

She shook her head.  “I understood you to have said it.”

Carefully, Darcy leaned down and kissed her gently.  It was her first kiss.  She breathed in the feeling of it, not willing to let it go, but it was over before she was ready.  Standing in his embrace, Bella waited until he took her hand, unlocked the door, and led her into the stream of dancers who were making their way into the dining hall.

They found a place near Louisa and Mr. Hurst.  Bridgerton joined them with a smile on his face and Bella smiled back at him, glancing down the table to where Jane and Bingley were sitting.

Mary and Mr. Collins were at a separate table.

Elizabeth was sitting alone, Bella noticed.  It seemed like Wickham had left as Miss King was sitting with several other young ladies, clearly subdued.

Darcy solicitously offered to serve her lamb, and she allowed him to fill her plate for her, accepting a glass of wine from a passing server.

Caroline was the first lady to perform to much applause.  Louisa took her place next and performed several pieces.  By this time, Bella was finished with her repast, and she caught Mary’s eye.  The pianoforte was then surrendered to them.

She allowed Darcy to help her stand and she and Mary went to their places at the instrument.  They did not need anyone to turn the pages as they were playing (and singing) from memory.

Bella leaned down to whisper in Mary’s ear, “Darcy and I are to wed.”

Mary immediately smiled widely.  “What shall we sing?”

“Where e’er you walk?” Bella suggested with a shrug.  “We have not performed that in some time.”

“How fitting,” Mary decided as she opened with a flourish.  “A love song.” 

Bella turned back toward the diners and chose a spot above everyone’s head to stare at and opened her mouth to sing.  She refused to allow herself to be distracted even when servers moved between the tables to top off wine glasses and when the final note rang out, she held it for the appropriate time before ending it perfectly.  She stood, tall, silent, as Mary concluded the accompaniment, and then smiled when the hall rang out with applause. 

She turned and held her hand out to Mary who rose from behind the pianoforte, and they curtseyed to the diners together in perfect unison. 

At the shouts to “encore! encore!” Bella looked over at Mary and raised an eyebrow at her.  “Should we perform again?”

“They want an encore.”  Mary bit her lip in worry.  “Did you not hear my lady?”

“We better,” Bella agreed, not wanting to sing a second time, but knowing it was inevitable.  She took her place in front of the pianoforte again, clasped her hands in front of her, and took up her position. 

The room fell silent and waited.

Although the assembled guests wanted a second encore after they finished their second song, Mary and Bella did not perform for a third time.  Instead, Mary stood from the pianoforte and the two sisters abandoned the instrument and moved back to their seats.

Darcy and Bridgerton were still standing, clapping, and Darcy pulled her chair out for her.

“That was simply masterful, Miss Bennet!” Bridgerton complimented.  “I have hardly heard a voice as pure and accomplished as yours.”

She blushed at the compliment, feeling her neck and chest heat up, much to her embarrassment.  “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she returned.  “I do so enjoy singing with Mary.”

“That is quite apparent,” he agreed.  “You and your sister compliment each other so prettily.”  He took up his glass of wine and took a drink.  “I see, also, what you meant when you called each other ‘mirrors’ of one another.  Your resemblance is striking!”

“Is it not?” Darcy agreed, regarding Bella with fondness.  “Miss Bennet, however, is a far superior beauty, in my opinion.”

Bella could not help but blush again.

“Indeed,” Bridgerton agreed.  “A dark beauty is always to be preferred to a fair.  You have it quite right!”

“Gentlemen,” she begged.  “I am sitting right here.”

“So she is,” Louisa agreed, leaning into the conversation.  “We must not forget Miss Bennet’s natural modesty, gentlemen.”

Darcy looked at her in amusement.  “You are forever Miss Bennet’s champion,” he complimented.

It was then that Bella overheard Mama speak to Lady Lucas.  “Yes, Mary is engaged to Mr. Collins,” she told her friend.  “And you know Jane has caught Mr. Bingley.  Five thousand a year.”  She laughed and took a sip of her wine.

Bella looked worriedly over at Darcy whose attention was on Mama.

“Then there is Isabella.  She is a good girl.  I did not even have to tell her to attach herself to Mr. Darcy—”

“More wine?” Bella asked loudly. 

People were definitely staring at Mama and Lady Lucas now. 

Bridgerton turned away and smiled at Bella.  “Let me signal one of the servers for you, Miss Bennet,” he said kindly.

Darcy had a thoughtful look on his face.

Bella spent the rest of the ball in the company of Darcy and Bridgerton.  She did dance once more with Bingley, Darcy looking at him sternly, but when the final dance was called, she was standing up one last time with Bridgerton.

“I understand felicitations are in order,” he opened with as he lifted up her hand and twirled her. 

“Two engagements in my family in one day,” she sighed.  “We Bennet sisters have been most fortunate.”

“Darcy is to come to us in February, so you will be a guest at Aubrey Hall,” he informed her.  “I am afraid I am one of eight siblings.”

“I knew you had four sisters, but three brothers as well?” she asked in astonishment.  “Your poor mother.”

“My mother is quite content with her lot,” Bridgerton informed her, “much as I am sure your mother is content with hers.”  Bella’s mind returned to her mama’s unfortunate observations earlier during supper.  She tried not to let her thoughts show on her face.

“I quite take your point,” she agreed, as she danced around him as he held her hand and twirled it over his head as he remained in place.  “They shall have to compare notes on having four daughters a piece.”

Darcy was the one to hand her into the carriage that night, a silent promise in his eyes.  She knew he would come early in the morning to speak to her father, and she could barely contain her excitement as she rushed to her room and waited for Mary’s long goodbyes to Mr. Collins.

“I am to be married!” Bella exclaimed as soon as Mary entered the room, flinging her arms around her sister.  “Mr. Darcy comes to ask Papa his permission tomorrow morning!”

“It is certain?” Mary cried.  “Oh, Bells, I am so happy for you!”

Tears of joy welled up in Bella’s eyes.  “He is to go for a special license immediately afterward and he wants to marry me by the end of the week!  He does not want to wait a single moment to make me his wife.”

Mary pulled away.  “But that gives us no time to prepare!”

“I do not need to prepare,” Bella promised.  “I shall wear my best Sunday dress, and you shall stand up with me and all shall be perfect.” 

Wariness shone out of Mary’s sky blue eyes, and Bella’s stomach turned.  Bella forced herself to ignore it.  All would be well, she promised herself.  All would be well.