Darcy clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to force the tension away, trying to hide his anguish behind a bland expression. If he could only move; however, her voice mesmerized him as much as it did the others. He had never heard the song done so well and with so much passion.
They rode and they rode till they came to the hall,
So loudly she twirled at the pin
And no one so ready as Lord Thomas himself
To let fair Ellender in.
He took her by her lily-white hand
When leading her through the hall
Saying,“Fifty gay ladies are here today
But here is the flower of them all.”
“Is this your bride, Lord Thomas?” she said.
“She looks most wonderful brown
You might have had as a fair a woman
As ever trod Scotland’s ground.”
“Despise her not, Fair Ellender,” he cried.
“Despise her not to me
For I love the end of your little finger
More than her whole body.”
The Brown Girl, she was standing by
With knife ground keen and sharp,
Between the long ribs and the short,
She pierced Fair Ellender’s heart.
“Oh, what’s the matter?” Lord Thomas said.
“You look so pale and wan;
You used to have so fair a color
As ever the sun shone on.”
Here it comes, he thought. The ending! The story of “Fair Ellender” he knew well—too well. Ellender D’Arcy began the madness; her love of Arawn Benning marked them—all the generations to follow—and Fitzwilliam Darcy fought to stop the evil she brought on his family. Knowingly, or unknowingly, Elizabeth Bennet sang on: