Change of Heart Read online

  Change

  of

  Heart

  Tina

  Marie

  Noel

  Change of Heart

  First Kindle Edition, June 2013

  Copyright 2013 by Tina Marie Noel.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any format whatsoever.

  Many of the characters and occasional lines in this book were the creation of Jane Austen.

  Dedications:

  To my mom, Nita Davis, who has always been a source of inspiration for me. She gives her honest opinion, which I always need. She always takes the time to listen. She has given her support, time and energy to help me accomplish my goals throughout this endeavour. I wouldn’t have completed this project without her help.

  To my nephew, James David Noel II, who is an imaginative soul who has no shortage of ideas when I need his input. His contributions to the billiard scene, the tree climbing chapter and the marriage ball chapter were as invaluable as they were fun.

  To both Mom and James who helped me turn a late night brainstorming session into the realization of a crazy idea of mine. What resulted was the double-entendre filled billiard scene which benefited from the ideas brought forth from our inspiration-fuelled and laughter-filled conversation.

  To my dad, Jim A. Noel and my brother, Jim R. Noel who found themselves unwilling participants in some of the craziness when they were put to work helping me work out the logistics of some of my more difficult ideas.

  To Barry Eldridge, who helped me with making sure my research was complete and as accurate as possible.

  To everyone at www.darcyandlizzy.com, who have been instrumental in helping to motivate me so I would complete my rewrites and polish this story.

  To all of my dedicated readers at www.fanfiction.com who never failed to inspire me to work harder and finish this story.

  Chapter 1

  Fitzwilliam Darcy crossed the Netherfield library and lowered himself into the seat with unyielding severity. He shifted impatiently as he tried to find a comfortable position. A great deal of effort was required as he struggled to remain focused on the book he was reading. The ticking clock was confirmation of time passed as he read and re-read the same lines of text without absorbing a single word. With a guttural exhale of air, he snapped the book together, shoved it onto the side table and rose to his feet.

  Darcy strode back and forth across the room with a sudden surge of frenetic energy. As of late, this heightened state of agitation had become commonplace. He was feeling unsettled, anxious and restless. He knew there was only one possible explanation for the uncharacteristic tension he was experiencing. His black temper coincided perfectly with the arrival at Netherfield of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a woman whom he could not get out of his mind no matter how hard he tried.

  Darcy clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes as he tried to force her likeness from his mind. His effort was in vain. Miss Bennet’s image, a mirror of the lady herself, refused to be dismissed so easily. With a sigh, he replaced the Miss Bennet of his imagination with Miss Bingley, but this exercise only brought a smile to his lips as it reminded him of an incident earlier that afternoon. Amusement lit up Darcy’s face as he remembered how Miss Bennet bested Miss Bingley with only the quickness of her wit and the arch of an eyebrow.

  Elizabeth strolled into the library, and she perused the shelves for new reading material. It was a delight for her to have access to a library such as this one. Although she was at Netherfield for Jane’s sake, she did not intend to socialize with Miss Bingley, the Hursts or Mr. Darcy any more than was required by social convention. She spent most of her time in Jane’s room keeping her sister company, however, due to her illness, Jane tired easily and slept for most of the day. This meant Elizabeth found herself with an ample amount of free time and sought entertainment with other pursuits such as the exploration Netherfield’s library.

  As she glanced about the room, Elizabeth was astonished to see she discovered the normally solemn Mr. Darcy with a smile upon his lips, a heretofore unseen display by the gentleman from Derbyshire. She was stunned by this unexpected sight. However, she was even more confused by the bewildering warmth of her own reaction.

  “Mr. Darcy.” Her voice was barely audible as she acknowledged the gentleman. “Excuse the interruption.” She turned and left the room before he could respond.

  Elizabeth raced back to Jane’s room. She leaned against the door for a few minutes to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. Mr. Darcy was smiling… actually smiling. Never before had she seen him smile. He had seemed relaxed, and the improvement to his countenance was astonishing.

  Elizabeth’s heart fluttered like a bird’s wing as she sighed and straightened her skirt before she opened the door to Jane’s room. She decided to put all thoughts of the unexpected, confusing side of Mr. Darcy out her mind.

  As he lay in bed late that night, Darcy was still unsettled and found he could not sleep. His heart was in a constant crusade against his mind. Although he knew what his family expected of him, he could not stop thinking about Elizabeth Bennet and dreaming of the life his imagination had built with her as his wife. His heart clenched as he became aware of how much he wanted a lifetime with her.

  Logically, he was aware Georgiana needed him to marry someone whom she could emulate, a lady of their own social sphere. His expectations for his future wife were that she be a lady who could teach Georgiana how to be a member of the ton and guide her through the turbulent waters of society.

  Darcy’s unwanted thoughts of Elizabeth kept up a constant vigilance as he attempted to push them out of his head. In order to do this, he ran through a list of potential ladies in his own social circle. However, Darcy knew there was not one with whom he could envision spending his life. He was frustrated with his thoughts as he remembered past acquaintances and how such associations always made him feel ill at ease. Owing to his place in society and his wealth, there was no end to mothers who were desperate to advance their unmarried daughter’s position in society. The mother’s and the daughter’s would have done anything to garner his attention.

  With distaste, he thought of one such lady. Miss Samantha Miller, who along with her mother had pursued him with a vigilance like no other. Darcy had only felt disgust when Miss Miller had offered herself to him prior to marriage. This lady held no interest for him, and he had spurned her advances with rigid formality. He shivered at the horrific thought of what fate could have befallen him if he had given into her plans. Even worse was the thought of Miss Miller or Mrs. Miller having anything to do with Georgiana’s education or introduction into society.

  In extreme contrast, when he thought of introducing Elizabeth to Georgiana, it filled him with pleasure. He felt in his heart that Georgiana would adore Elizabeth because like her brother, she would be enchanted with the lady’s liveliness and wit. During his time in Hertfordshire, Darcy had also observed how Elizabeth brought out the best in the younger ladies of Meryton. He knew, without a doubt, under Elizabeth’s tutelage, his sister would flourish.

  Stop it. Darcy chided himself sternly, Stop torturing yourself with events that can never take place. Just pick any lady of social standing and make her your wife. His heart rebelled against the thought immediately and screamed in protest as his insides twisted with excruciating agony. He sat up in bed with a jolt and in a forceful voice that rang through the silent room, he barked with unequivocal vehemence, “No!”

  Finding he was no longer able to stay in bed and with his nerves on edge, Darcy made his way to the library. He wanted to locate the book he left this afternoon. He found his book on the side table and started back toward the door when he saw a silhouetted figure in whit
e enter the room. He slipped silently into the shadows as he realized it was Elizabeth. Darcy felt overwhelmed by her appearance as he became aware that her dark hair hung loose and spilled down her back. It was as though she had stepped directly out of one of his fantasies. He clenched his hands as he tried to dispel the desperate aching desire to lose his fingers in the luxurious waves of her curls.

  Darcy gasped as the light from the candle she was carrying shone through the thin material of her nightgown. The candle in her hand illuminated every curve of her figure and Darcy was mesmerized. When Elizabeth found the book she was looking for, she took it in her hands. Darcy could not take his eyes off her, and before he knew what happened, she slipped back out of the library just as silently as she had arrived.

  With his thoughts even more entangled, Darcy moved quietly down the corridor to his room. To his dismay, the book he retrieved did little to ease his mind because his thoughts were full of Elizabeth. He kept reliving what it had been like to see her in her nightdress and what she looked like with her hair down. He daydreamed about what it would feel like to feather his fingers in her wildly beautiful dark curls. His traitorous thoughts had taken the next step as he began to wonder how that same luxurious hair would look spread over his pillow after a long night of passion.

  Damn it Darcy! Stop thinking of her in your bed, you know this can never be. She is utterly wrong to be the Mistress of Pemberley, Georgiana’s sister and your wife. Her family has no connections, no money, and you shudder at just the sight of her mother. No matter how much you think of her, she can never be yours. Never…

  His stomach clenched in misery, and that one word was enough to bring him more pain than he had ever felt in his life as the word reverberated through his brain. Never… Never could he have Elizabeth as his wife, never would he love another and never would he find happiness of his own.

  In the dim light of the early morning, Darcy had an epiphany with his subconscious mind and knew he was fighting a losing battle about his feelings for Elizabeth. He wanted her, and the only thing left to be decided was how long it would take him to succumb.

  Chapter 2

  Darcy paced the library like a caged animal with his hands balled into fists filled with tension. Damn the rain! It had been raining all day and that unfortunate circumstance forced Darcy to forgo his normal ride through the countryside. The physical exertion of a hard ride would have allowed him to work off his pent up energy. Sleep had eluded him the night before as he spent the night with exquisite images of Elizabeth Bennet. He cursed, “Damn the rain.” He desperately needed to go riding so he could use the physical exhaustion to stop his thoughts of Elizabeth from taking him to places dangerous to his peace of mind.

  No matter how hard he tried, Darcy could not dispel the vivid images his mind created. It was becoming a necessity to distract his mind, so he made his way to the settee, picked up his book and laid it on his lap. He tried to collect his thoughts as he focused on the pages he was reading. This effort was a lost cause as there did not seem to be a way of taming the diverting fantasies surging through his brain. He kept replaying over and over in his mind the memory of Elizabeth as he had seen her by candlelight last night and he found the image intensely arousing.

  The door to the library opened. To Darcy’s horror, it was Elizabeth, the subject of his erotic imagery, who walked into the room. He barely suppressed a groan as he found himself watching the subject of his fancy peruse the rows of books. He heard her sigh and almost lost his composure.

  Elizabeth wandered through the library and sighed with pleasure as she ran her hands across the row of books. It was a relief to get away from the residents of Netherfield, especially Mr. Darcy. That man’s presence was always a challenge to her peaceful state of mind. His disapproval of her every thought and action made her feel as though she had to defend herself continuously. Having to guard her tongue constantly was a wearisome exercise she was only able to tolerate for a short period each day. It had become her practice to escape from the hateful man’s presence as often as possible. Unbidden an image flickered into Elizabeth’s mind, it was a memory of the day before when she had entered this room and witnessed Mr. Darcy smiling. She shook her head slightly to rid herself of the unwelcome memory and the warm feelings he aroused in her.

  When she found a book that captured her attention, Elizabeth crossed the room to the settee. To her dismay, there was already an occupant, and it was the person she was trying to avoid. Mr. Darcy was lounging comfortably with a book open on his lap as his eyes watched her with an intense stare.

  With a flush, Darcy remembered his good manners and stood. He shifted his hand so that the book would hide his still evident arousal and with a bow, he greeted her, “Miss Bennet.”

  “Mr. Darcy,” Her response was coldly polite and cut like a dagger into Darcy’s heart. Why did this small woman with an acerbic wit have so much power over what he was feeling and thinking? No other person had ever come close to touching his heart. Why did it have to be Elizabeth Bennet, a woman wholly unacceptable to his way of life?

  “May I enquire, Miss Bennet, as to what book has so caught your attention?”

  “I am currently engrossed in the “Lady of the Lake” a poem by Sir Walter Scott. It is about…”

  Darcy interrupted in astonishment, “I am well aware of the nature of Lady of the Lake, the story has themes of rebellion, imprisonment and King James the Fifth incognito. It so happens to be one of my favourites.” Mr. Darcy tried to hide his adoring admiration for this lady. “However, I have not met many a lady who would become so lost in those captivating words.”

  Elizabeth bristled at his assertion, “I can assure you Mr. Darcy, I have little trouble in understanding the writing of such a composition.” Her irritation only served to intrigue him even more, “I have also read Shakespeare and Dante.” She could not hold back the torrent of anger, “I must say, Mr. Darcy, I am surprised a man of sense and education, such as yourself, should take that stance about a lady reading what pleases her.”

  “I assure you, Miss Bennet.” Darcy found himself reacting favourably to the fire in her eyes, “It was not my intention to question your intellect. Rather it was your enjoyment of the subject matter which surprised me.”

  Elizabeth felt herself smile, “I am only liable to myself in the matter of which books I find enjoyable.”

  Darcy shifted his weight with a smile as he bowed with a flourish. He knew it was a foregone conclusion that he was lost to his feelings for her, “I must concede the argument as you truly know your mind the best.”

  Elizabeth smiled and dropped into a curtsy, “As your penance, Mr. Darcy, I am allowed to ask one question.” There was a dangerous glint in Elizabeth’s eyes, “In the poem that we have been discussing, the character of James Fitz-James is discovered to be in reality King James the Fifth.” She arched her eyebrow pertly, “So who is your alter ego, Mr. Darcy?”

  “I am a simple man, Miss Bennet.” Darcy responded with a smile, “I am exactly the man you see.”

  “I must disagree,” Elizabeth protested as she registered the sparkle in his eyes, “The man who stands before me and who even smiles on occasion is not the Mr. Darcy I met but a month ago.”

  Darcy stared at her with a perplexed expression as he thought about Elizabeth’s words, “I am never at ease with a stranger in the way I am with a friend.”

  Elizabeth arched her eyebrow, “Are we friends, Mr. Darcy?”

  The question startled Darcy as he contemplated the young lady in front of him, “I must admit, I have few people I can call friends. Mr. Bingley is one of the few whom I count as a friend. I have many acquaintances, but I am never comfortable enough in new surroundings to make friends easily.”

  “As you have sidestepped my question,” Elizabeth’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and a fire raged in her eyes, “I would say we must not be friends but acquaintances. I will take my leave of you in order to save you from having to endure my apparently abhorren
t presence.”

  “Please do not go.” His voice was hoarse with barely restrained fear. He did not want her leave, and he could not let her go. He wanted her to stay and felt an urgent need for her to be here with him. How could he convince her to stay? A kernel of an idea took root. He pounced upon the inspiration, “Miss Bennet, I would like to ask you for a favour in regard to my sister, Georgiana.”

  Even though Elizabeth was angry with Mr. Darcy, her curiosity about his sister stopped her as she reached for the door handle. She turned to the gentleman and asked, “What kind of help do you need?”

  Darcy’s whole body relaxed as he answered the question, “My sister is painfully shy, and I have indulged this disposition. I have been reluctant to force upon her mandatory participation in gatherings that would make her uncomfortable. However, it will soon become impossible for her to avoid such social occasions.” His eyes locked with Elizabeth’s as he laid out his reasoning. “I have seen you interacting with young ladies in Hertfordshire. You have the ability to draw the best out of them. I do not have that facility, and I was hoping you could give me some guidance. Georgiana is extremely important to me, and I do not want her to suffer as I have.”

  Mr. Darcy needs my help, now that is a turn of events. Elizabeth could not stop the impish grin as it formed and with a raise of her eyebrow stated, “It is your opinion that you are not qualified to help her in social situations.” Elizabeth smiled mischievously with a flick of her eyes in his direction, “I would have to agree that you are the last person in the world who should ever advise anyone about being sociable. You should also never inflict your sister with your particular brand of suffering which must be impressive indeed.” She laced her words with good-humoured sarcasm.

  The time for retreating was gone. Darcy knew he was no longer able to turn away from his newly chosen path anymore than he could reach out and touch the stars. He would in due course declare his intentions toward Elizabeth Bennet. He was convinced she would be his wife.