Excentryke's Musings

Daisy Chains

Part the Sixth

Renee, Bella had noticed, had met an officer and was seen often in his company in the town of Meryton.  Bella would sit by the kitchen window and watch them walk together, a dish of tea in her hand.  The other gentlemen still called, but Bella could tell that this one officer was liked above all the others.

He was tall, handsome, with dark hair and even darker eyes.  He could be called handsome.  He certainly looked dashing in his red coat.  Perhaps that was what Renee liked—a red coat.  Many a woman fell under that spell, but this officer, whoever he was, looked especially good looking in his regimentals.

What fortune, however, did he have beyond his commission?  He must be a second or a third son, or come from a family without an estate or an estate so riddled by debt he must go out and make his own living.

It was not a fine prospect.  Not a fine prospect at all.

He was certainly a pretty face, Bella would give him that, but what good was a pretty face when the rent needed to be paid and creditors needed to be put off?

“Who is he?” Bella asked Charlotte as she was putting on her gloves to go out.  She was standing in front of the Netherfield carriage that was to take her to dinner with Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst.  The promised invitation had materialized.  The gentlemen were to dine with the officers.  Perhaps she could engage Darcy to learn more about this particular officer, if he had not already left for the evening.

Charlotte glanced over at Renee and the officer who looked barely older than Bella.  “Second Lieutenant Philip Dwyer,” she answered.

Bella lifted her chin to show that she was listening.  “Do we know how old he is?”

“Two and twenty.”

Scoffing, Bella turned to the carriage.  “If Renee wants to make a fool of herself, I suppose she will make a fool of herself.”  She was lifted in and the door was closed behind her.

It had started to drizzle.

Lieutenant Dwyer was holding his cloak over Renee’s head.  She was giggling like a girl barely out of her hems, not like a lady in society with a daughter grown.  It was positively indecent.

Bella arrived at Netherfield, barely wet, but Kitty was not so lucky.  She had ridden over in the rain and was soaked through.  Perhaps her father was not so well established as to keep a carriage, though Bella had thought the estate fine enough.  If he did keep a carriage, then Bella thought it was evidence of Kitty’s youth and inexperience to be so wild to take a horse in the rain.

Kitty was soon wrapped up in shawls and brought before the fire.

She looked so small in them, like the child she really was.

It was true she and Bella was of a similar age, but Bella had lived.  She had survived the suicide of her father and now supported herself and her mother, forced to enter a marriage not only for convenience but survival, to a man who made her skin crawl.

What did Kitty know of such realities?

Dinner was certain interesting.  Bella was almost superfluous.  Caroline and Louisa were interrogating Kitty on her family connections.  Perhaps they had been ordered to, but by whom—Bingley or Darcy?  Hurst certainly wouldn’t care.

“Your mother’s sister is Mrs. Philips,” Louisa Hurst was now saying, sharing a look with Caroline, “who is to give a card party.”

“Yes,” Kitty agreed, taking a bite of ham.  “He’s an attorney.”  Her voice was a little weak, a little shaky, but she was holding it together under the scrutiny of the sisters.

“And your mother’s brother lives in London,” Caroline clarified.  “—in Cheapside.”

Bella picked up her wine to have something to do with her hands.  This was not going well for Kitty at all.  Cheapside was not a fashionable address.

“Yes, indeed, he—”  Kitty suddenly pitched forward and leaned her head in her hand, her elbow in the dining service.  “I feel suddenly quite unwell,” she apologized.

“It will be the rain,” Bella posited, glancing at Louisa.

“Fosset,” Caroline ordered.  “Send for Dr. Cullen.  We need him straight away.”

Kitty was soon lifted by maids and brought out of the dining room.  She was undoubtedly taken to a bedchamber where she could lie down and be ministered to.  Bella would have to sneak up to see Carlisle alone.

“Cheapside,” Louisa sighed once Kitty was gone.  “She is not a fine prospect, even if this is just another wayward notion of Charles’s.”

“Indeed, sister,” Caroline agreed.  “Most unsuitable.”

“Did Bingley ask you—?” Bella asked carefully, curious despite herself.  If it wasn’t Bingley—if it was Darcy—well, this was information.  The more she knew about Darcy before they married, and marriage seemed inevitable, the better.

“Mr. Darcy inquired,” Caroline told her, confirming Bella’s suspicions.  “Charles does not take account of the small details.—Darcy always looks out for him.”

Bella sighed and took another sip of her wine.  Most disagreeable.  She wished she hadn’t have come even if she might get to sneak a moment with Carlisle Cullen later.

When she heard Carlisle arrive, she made her excuses from cards, and snuck upstairs.  She found him attending Kitty in an upper room. 

“Is it a fever?” Bella inquired, hovering in the doorway.  “She rode here through the rain.”

Carlisle looked up, startled, and froze at the sight of her.  “I did not know you were here, Miss Swan,” he told her, not answering the question.  He was carefully not looking toward her but attempting to gaze over her left shoulder.

“I suppose the servants had no reason to tell you,” she decided, leaning up against the door.  “So, fever?”

“Yes, a simple fever.  She will be well.”  He was decidedly not looking at Bella.  It seemed as if he wasn’t looking at her on purpose. 

“That is a relief.”

“Are you friends with Miss Bennet?” Dr. Cullen inquired.  “I was unaware.”

“Not particularly.  When we are in company, Darcy speaks to me and Bingley speaks to her.  That is the extent of our acquaintance.”  She stepped back when Dr. Cullen exited the room, leaving the maid behind.  “We young ladies barely have occasion to talk to each other in such circumstances.”

“It must be difficult to be admired,” Dr. Cullen decided, still avoiding Bella’s gaze.

“Are you universally admired, doctor?” she inquired, looking up at him anxiously.

“I find it is the way,” he answered carefully, his golden eyes averted.

She nodded.  Her situation was not abnormal for him.  He was as good as telling her to set him behind her—

As they came to the landing, Dr. Cullen dropped his bag and, with a sense of urgency, took Bella by the arm and led her to the side.  “Miss Swan,” he breathed, once they were hidden by a wall from any passersby downstairs.  His golden eyes were looking searchingly into hers and his cold hand came up and carefully ran down the side of her face.

She moved into the touch, delighting in it despite the coolness of his skin.

It was as different from Darcy’s unwanted caresses as night was from day.  Where Darcy’s attentions sent shivers of dislike through Bella, Dr. Cullen’s sent frissons of sheer delight down her spine.

“Carlisle—” she sighed, using his Christian name, tipping her face toward him.

However, as quickly as it happened, it was over.

Bella felt herself left abandoned against the wall, deprived of Dr. Cullen’s presence.  Surprised, she turned to look at the stairs and found Dr. Cullen, bag in hand, walking calmly down the staircase, as if he hadn’t just been scandalously engaged with her.  How did he rip himself from her side, compose himself, pick up his bag, and get halfway down the stairs in the space of half a breath?  It was uncanny.

Collecting herself, Bella turned back to the staircase and began descending herself.

She reentered the Drawing Room just as Dr. Cullen was giving his instructions to Caroline Bingley.  She stood near the door, and when Dr. Cullen turned to go, their eyes met and held, a knowledge in their gaze.  He paused for the span of a second before he bowed to her and left, all without a word.

Bella forced herself to let him go.

“What a strange man,” Louisa Hurst decided as she shuffled her cards.  “He would not stay for a game.”

This caught Bella’s attention.  “Would he not?”

“He said the apothecary should be applied to tomorrow and his services were no longer needed—and just—left.”  Louisa shrugged.

Bella came over to the table and took her place.  She waited for Louisa to deal her in.

She left before the gentlemen returned, but halfway down the driveway, the carriage stopped and the carriage driver began speaking angrily to someone.  Bella popped her head out the window angrily.  “What is it?” she asked into the darkness.

“It is only, mum, this gentleman says he wishes to speak to you,” the carriage driver informed her.

“What gentleman?” she inquired, confused.

A man got off of his horse, which was blocking the path, and approached.  Bella felt a sense of wariness until the face of Carlisle Cullen appeared in the lamplight.  “Carlisle—” she breathed.

“Miss Swan,” he returned, refusing to use her given name.  Producing a letter, he handed it to her and then continued to walk past the carriage and back in the direction of Netherfield, leading his horse all the while.

Bella stared after him as he left and then turned her attention to the note.

“Is everything well, mum?” the carriage driver called out to her.

“Y-yes,” Bella assured him, looking up from the note.  “You may take me home.”  Sliding the note into her pelisse, she promised herself she would read it as soon as she got back to the townhouse.

Of course, Renee was waiting up for her.  She wouldn’t give Bella any privacy when she was undressing in her room.  “Was Darcy there?” she inquired.

“No,” Bella answered, tired.  “Only Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.—and Miss Catherine Bennet who caught a chill from riding over in the rain.”

“Then she has stayed the night!” Renee opined.

“Yes, she has,” Bella agreed, “but her nose is red and she’s sweating with fever.  She is very unattractive, I assure you, Renee.”  Bella sighed.  “She is not pressing her point with Mr. Bingley.”

Renee dithered to herself.

“How was Lieutenant Dwyer?”

Renee looked up, her blue eyes meeting Bella’s violet ones in the mirror.  “Most attentive.”

“Does he have an allowance from his father?”

“He is a third son.”

That answered that then.  It was a most unsuitable match.  That would make it all the more attractive in Renee’s eyes.

Bella only got to read the note after Renee left.  Miss Swan, If you would be so kind as to meet me in the Hatfield Orchard an hour before the sun rises tomorrow, I would be much obliged.  CC.  Bella groaned.  That meant only a few hours of sleep because she would have to walk nigh on five miles to the orchard.

Still, she got up when the sky was still black as charcoal, and dressed in blue silks and a sunhat, and walked to the agreed upon location.

The sky was still a shadowy grey, when she heard a horse ride up. 

Carlisle was just a series of shapes against the greyness, but she reached for him, catching his cold hand in hers.  He hesitated for a moment before entwining their fingers.  Bella sighed in relief.

“I should not be here,” he told her, leading her into the orchard.

“Then why did you wait for me outside of Netherfield?”

He hesitated.  “The scent of your skin—”  He let his voice tail off.  Lifting her hand up to his lips, he took in a deep breath as if to smell the very scent of her skin, and then let their hands drop, though their fingers were still entwined.

Bella wasn’t wearing any perfume, so she must smell of soap, if anything at all.

She looked over at him in question, but of course he couldn’t see her in the darkness.

“A—woman,” he admitted carefully after several minutes, “has never caught my attention before.”

She smiled to herself.  “Then you must come to the card game at Mrs. Philips’s,” she told him.  “We can play cards together.”

“You will be playing cards with Mr. Darcy,” he told her carefully.  “Do not deny it.  It is the truth.  And why wouldn’t you?  You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“It is expected of me—”

But she wasn’t able to finish the sentence.  Just as quickly as it had begun, it had already ended and Carlisle had climbed up on his horse and taken off back in the direction of Netherfield, but he had kissed her, gentle, but hard, just there, his lips cold as ice, and then he was gone.

Bella was left stupefied.

Not even Edward had kissed her before, but this seemed so much more real.

She breathed out of her nose and tried to compose herself.

However, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.  She even laughed for joy.

The entire walk back to Meryton, she was smiling and giggling to herself. 

She hadn’t expected, a mile out from the small town, to come across Darcy, leading a horse in the general direction of her house.

“Isabella,” he cried.  “You are not at home?”

She looked up at him and tried to school her expression.  “I am afraid I have not had my morning tea, Darcy,” she told him, reaching up to pat his horse’s main.  “Would you perhaps care to join me for my repast?”

Darcy immediately swung off his own horse and took the reins, giving over the mare to Bella.  “I did not know you were taken to early morning walks.”

“Not usually,” she agreed, “but I could not sleep this morning.”

“Miss Catherine is still abed at Netherfield,” Darcy told her.  “Does her condition worry you?”

“It is merely a fever,” she assured him.  “It will pass in a day or two and then she will go home.”  She smiled to herself.  “I am sure Caroline is not happy with the house guest.  She was not best pleased with Miss Catherine yesterday evening before she fell ill.”

“Yes,” Darcy replied grimly.  “She told me.  Connections in trade.”

“It is unfortunate,” Bella agreed, “however, you assured me Bingley was not serious.”

“No,” Darcy agreed.  “Not at all.”

“Then why even invite her to dinner?” Bella wondered aloud.

“The ladies must have their amusements,” he responded, looking over to her with a smile.  “Besides, I had to check.”

She glanced over at him.  He really was looking out for Bingley then.  “Do you look out for all your friends?”

“Only when they are about to make reckless decisions,” he assured her.

“Renee—” she began, but then stopped herself.

He looked over at her again.  “Yes?” he inquired.

She sighed.  “You know what I was going to say.”

“You believe Lady Swan is going to make a reckless match.”

“She says it is her prerogative since she made a sensible match the first time around,” she explained.  “She told me I could apply that philosophy myself if I ever become a widow.”

“You will never become a merry widow,” he assured her, referencing the idea of a young, pretty widow who still had her youth and might have a fortune.  “And our sons will protect you.”

“I suppose that is true,” she agreed.  “Renee refused to give Charlie a son.  If there had been an heir to the estate—”  Her voice trailed off.

“You would still be at Kenbridge,” he supplied for her, “and we never would have met.”

Bella grimaced.  She would let him interpret the expression however he wished.  Still, she grimaced for lost opportunities.  If she had never left Kenbridge, she would never have met Darcy and would not now be on the brink of marrying a man who made her skin crawl, however a decent conversationalist he proved to be.  She would probably still be enamored of Edward, who had written her another letter two days before… Write back to me.  I have had not a word from you.  EM.  What did he expect her to write?  There was nothing to say.

“My brother would be Sir Charles the Younger,” she murmured, needing something to say.

“He would have a godfather to guide him,” Darcy posited.

Bella smiled to herself.  “With whom would you have danced at the assembly?” she wondered, “or would you have stood stupidly about and made all the mamas want you for their daughters?”  Her eyes flashed in humor.

“You tease me.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed.  “Perhaps Elizabeth Bennet’s stares would have been too much for you.”

“Miss Bennet’s stares would never have been too much for me,” he assured her firmly.  Still, there was a brightness in his verdant gaze that she could not interpret. She set it aside, deciding to think on it later.

They were now coming up to the center of town.  Up ahead, Bella saw the Misses Bennet and they were standing with Lieutenant Dwyer and a few other officers despite the early hour of the morning.  Lieutenant Dwyer saw Bella and took off his hat, bowing to her in the street.  A man standing next to him, that was not in regimentals but wearing a grey cloak, turned to see who was approaching and met Bella’s violet gaze.

She was struck dumb.

The gentleman was tall with green eyes, broad shoulders and curling brown hair.  He was decidedly handsome and a frisson of disgust slipped down Bella’s spine.  He was an almost exact copy of Darcy, though perhaps a bit thinner in the face.

Bella could tell the exact moment Darcy’s eyes landed on him because he visibly started and reached out for Bella.

“Who is that?” she whispered in horror.  “He could be—”

“Come away,” he begged her, not offering any other explanation. 

Darcy reached out for the bridle of her horse and steered them around the small gathering.  Bella averted her eyes and let herself be led away. 

Darcy tipped a boy to hold their horses and opened the front door to the townhouse for Bella, quickly calling out for Charlotte to bring them tea and breakfast.

“Oh, Bella!” Renee greeted, coming out of the parlor.  “I had wondered where you had gone—”  She smiled prettily at Darcy, but there was a knock at the door.  “Oh, Carrie!” She called.  “We have visitors.”  She turned on her heel and went back into the parlor.

“Carrie!” Darcy called.  “Miss Swan requires tea,” and he led her into the dining room before he closed the door firmly behind them.

Bella stood on the inside of the dining room, confused.

She could hear voices on the other side.

Darcy looked thunderous.

Carefully meeting his eyes, she didn’t dare ask him who that man was again.

He pulled out a seat for her at the table, and she carefully sat.

They could hear the guests being shown into the parlor and then Charlotte scurrying back into the kitchen.  Their tea and toast came not a few minutes later. 

Bella was shocked into stillness, but Darcy made up her dish and went so far as to set a piece of toast on a plate and butter it for her.

“Eat,” he gently urged her and she picked up the piece of toast and took a small bite of it, following it by a sip of tea.  After she had finished her toast and set down her tea, she looked back into Darcy’s eyes.

“Perhaps we should go riding before they come out,” she suggested.

“Excellent plan,” he agreed.

He opened the door for her and they hurried out of the house, collecting their horses from the boy who was holding them.

Bella could tell they were being watched from the parlor window, but she decidedly did not look back.

She and Darcy rode in the direction of Hatfield Orchard, ironically, and it was not until they were well outside of the area of Meryton that they slowed and Darcy made any sign that he was ready to explain. 

They idled in a field of daisies and Bella was making daisy chains although she would never dare to give it to her companion, Darcy contentedly watching her. 

“His name is Wickham,” he told her.

She looked up.

“He is the son of my late father’s steward.”

“Not your steward then,” she checked.

“No, Wickham is not capable of any sort of management.  I would place no trust in him.”  He paused and picked a daisy, uncharacteristically playing with it between his large fingers.  “My father,” Darcy began hesitantly.  Then, “my father has many illegitimate children.  Wickham is the worst of them.  He is a man of ill repute and bad habits.  I would not have him near you, or indeed Lady Swan.  He would tell you many half truths to make himself look sympathetic.”

“Then I shall not believe a word he tells me,” Bella assured him.

“He would prey upon Lady Swan,” Darcy assured her.

“Renee heartily approves of you,” Bella told him.  It was nothing but the truth.  “You can do no wrong in her eyes.”  Bella had done everything to try to convince Renee that a match was unsuitable or that Bella should at least be cautious, but Renee had pushed Bella into this present situation.  Darcy was all virtue because of his wealth and elevated situation in life.

“Wickham appeared to be friendly with Lieutenant Dwyer.”

“Lieutenant Dwyer is friendly with everyone.”  And it was only the truth.  The man had so many friends it was a wonder he could keep any of them straight.  Bella certainly couldn’t.  Bella reached out and for the first time willingly touched Darcy, placing her smaller hand over his.  He looked up and she caught his verdant gaze.  “You shall simply have to come to Mrs. Philips’ card party, even though I know you were loath to since her family is in trade, and guard me from Wickham should he be there.”  She offered him a small smile.

A light of hope entered his green eyes.

She saw that she had gotten through to him.

They continued to sit there in the meadow, Bella continuing to make daisy chains, which she lay back among the flowers.  She even made one large enough to hang around her neck over her bonnet, which made Darcy smile a little to himself.

“Shall you wear daisies in your hair the day of our wedding?” he inquired when they walked back to their horses, which had gone afield to graze.

“Are you supposing daisies will still be blooming that late in the season?”  She looked up to him in question.

“It is October now,” he agreed.  “The air grows cold.  The first frost might hold off.”

“You might be right,” she agreed.  “You suppose that Renee would let me out of the house to actually go find daisies.”

“I had not thought to factor in a mother’s devotion to fashion.”

“You must always factor that in, Mr. Darcy,” she teased him.

They came up to her horse and he lifted her into the saddle, draping her skirts over her legs gentlemanly before going to fetch his own horse.

By the time they got back to Netherfield, it was past lunchtime and Renee and her guests had quit the house.  They were now quite alone.

“Shall we call for tea?” Bella asked, taking off her gloves.

Darcy, however, swept off his hat and leaned down, hesitating for a second.

Bella looked up, confused, her face fresh from the Autumn air.

He reached down and carefully kissed her.

Bella stilled.

His lips were warm unlike Carlisle’s.  She decidedly did not like it.  Still, she did not retreat and allowed him to kiss her.  He hesitated in the kiss and then withdrew, looking searchingly in her violet eyes.

She glanced away and walked into the parlor.

He followed her in.

Charlotte would surely bring the tea.