Belle - Part III
8/17/20255 min read
9.
All he did the next two days was drink and try not to think.
It worried Georgiana—he heard in the passing from his valet—but he was too numb to do anything but drain another glass of brandy. It burned down his throat even as he refilled the glass with shaking hands.
He had a splitting headache the day after.
It was so bad that he simply lay in the pain and did not reach for more alcohol to ease it away.
What was he doing? Why was he allowing his life to fall apart over a woman he had barely met a few times?
What was this spell she had cast over his heart?
Darcy clenched his jaws at that thought. He prided himself on being a man of rationality, not of superstitious folly.
He sat up. A little too quickly. His head felt as if it would cleave in two.
“Owwww,” he groaned.
But once his sight cleared, he knew he had made up his mind.
He would go back.
And then he would know—once and for all—if this was merely an infatuation which exposure would kill or if he had truly chanced upon something extraordinary, unknowingly.
10.
When they met the next time, it was at a dinner party in Bingley’s manor. Bingley was marrying her elder sister Jane, after all.
They exchanged common courtesies and greetings at first before drifting away into the throng. It was going to be a lively evening. Bingley never did anything by halves.
But soon, Darcy's feet led him back to her. He bowed, she curtsied.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Well enough, thank you,” she said, a bland smile on her face. “And you, my lord?”
“Yes,” he said.
They were silent for a moment, their gazes on each other.
“Would you like to dance with me?”
A single eyebrow went up. He felt his cheeks heat.
“It would be my pleasure,” she said.
He knew it was just a meaningless pleasantry but then they were dancing and he didn't want it to end. All his finely laid plans were beginning to unravel and slip from his mind.
“I have been thinking about you,” he said. And then blinked. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
She looked surprised.
“Only good things, I hope,” she said.
He wanted to do away with the formality between them.
“I have been thinking of what you said.” He decided to be direct.
She looked confused. Or, at least, appeared so.
“I do not remember saying anything of great import.”
He smiled.
“You said we did not know each other well enough.”
Her expression grew more guarded. His smile slipped.
He had thought that would appeal to her. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest.
Was this why she stood out to him from every other woman?
Instead of being endlessly fascinated by his consequence and grandeur, it was almost as if he was just a man and she just a woman. They met, they danced, they smiled, they laughed. They were polite. But he did not have her heart. Their minds met in whimsy sometimes. Other times, he had to work to get around his title that stood between them to hear her true opinions. Yet, he did not have her heart.
He had the sudden need to know what she thought of him.
“Miss Elizabeth, what do you wish for in a husband?”
She was in his arms briefly as he twirled her in circles to the music. Then they stamped their feet to the rhythm.
She smiled, “That is assuming that I want a husband in the first place.”
He held his incredulity in check.
“Why wouldn't you?”
She shrugged. “I like living with my family, on our lands. Besides, it seems an awful bother to uproot myself to march off with a husband. His home may be drafty, his servants suspicious.”
She was jesting, he knew. But he could not be sure.
“What if his home is beautiful and servants welcoming?”
She looked away from him as they danced. They were close now. His arms around her waist as he lifted her up and set her down on the other side. The bagpipes continued to fill the hall with energetic music.
“Marriage asks a lot from women,” she said after a moment. And then her eyes captured his.
“She must run his house for him. Look beautiful as the finest rose and ethereal stars. Never express sorrow or anger or anything other than mindless joy. Be interested in the world but not too much, just enough to ask the right questions so others may speak but not her. And then make sure she produces a male child and not create a fuss by dying before she can. Or falling sick and becoming a useless invalid.”
Her steps were not nimble anymore. Her eyes were flashing. She tried to smile but failed.
“So you see, my lord. It is much better if only those willing to accept their fate choose to be wives.”
His heart was thundering in his chest. Their dance was almost at its end.
“Thank you for your candour, Miss Elizabeth,” he said at last.
He bowed, she curtsied. Then he escorted her to her sister Mary.
He did not dance again the entire night.
11.
Darcy could not sleep.
His mind raced with flashes of Elizabeth's words. Echoing. His heart raced too.
Wasn't this why Georgiana had cried last time? Her brush with Wickham had made her aware of far more than he had wanted his innocent sister to know at her age. Yet, he knew it was barely the surface of what existed in the world. What Elizabeth had spoken of so starkly. He paled.
And then he picked up his quill.
12.
“Brother, did I hear the truth from Lady Arabeth?”
Lady Arabeth was their second aunt on their father's side. Daughter of an earl, married to a viscount.
“What did you hear?” Darcy asked. They were at the breakfast table in his castle. He had only returned the previous evening.
“That there is to be a vote on changing the Married Ladies Act?”
Georgiana looked excited. He smiled.
“Yes,” he said.
Their faction in the Parliament was pushing for better conditions for married ladies. To criminalize the ill treatment of the spouse and improve legal recourse for women. It was only the beginning but it had taken the nation by storm, dividing people into camps. Those refusing to change the old and established traditions. And those who wanted better conditions for their lives.
“May I join the effort?” Georgiana asked.
Darcy looked at his sister in surprise. And for the first time, he saw her as something more than his little sister. She was born Lady Georgiana after all.
“What do you have on your mind?”
Georgiana spread some jam on toast and said, “I am not certain yet. But I would like to join Lady Arabeth, Lady Matilda, and Lady Matlock. They want to gather support through the drawing rooms. Maybe a charity ball later in the season.”
He was shocked. His shy sister wanted to participate in drawing rooms and balls!
“That is a good plan,” he said.
“So I may?” Georgiana looked at him, hope on her face.
“Yes.”
Georgiana's face split into the widest grin he had not seen in a while.
“Thank you, brother!”
part IV - coming out next week
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WRITTEN BY MORGAN BLAKE
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[ Read: ]
[ PART I ]
[ PART II ]
Pride & Prejudice variation with a peerage twist.
Mr. Darcy is Lord Darcy. Elizabeth is the fair maiden who captures his heart
(unsuspectingly; and against his wishes). The setting is a mix of medieval, Irish, and Regency. ✨
Based on the prompt: Find me a man who will change the world for you!
POV of Mr. Darcy
part 3:
5 mins read
