Beginning, Next Section
A little bit of context: Some of you are familiar with this story, completed about a year ago, and it exists in completed version in the BoI archive. However, it has been some time now since I have contemplated revisions to it, and I have decided now to undertake them, partly so that I might have more impetus to complete the sequel, which seems to be withering away. How extensive the revisions will be remains to be seen, but as the story largely exists as a fait accompli I can safely promise that it will proceed at a brisk and regular pace as compared to my other stories, and that it will not detract from my writing of them.The opening, obviously, is not mine but Miss Austen's; the point of divergence should not be hard to locate.
Part 1
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings other than those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than that of pride. His sense of her inferiority -- of its being a degradation -- of the family obstacles which judgement had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit. In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, and she was sorry for the pain he was to receive. He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavors, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favorable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security.
When he had done, she tried to compose herself to answer him with patience, as she formulated her answer.
"In such cases as these, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. But I cannot -- I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly
But as she prepared to speak, Mr. Collins' words echoed through her mind.
"It is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you."
And she remembered Charlotte's admonishment; indeed, she would be a simpleton if she allowed her fancy for Wickham to slight a man of ten times his consequence. Perhaps Charlotte was right after all; she had accurately predicted Mr. Darcy's attachment, while Elizabeth herself had been utterly blind to his ardour. And Elizabeth recalled her friend's other pronouncements; "Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." Certainly she had been proven incorrect about Mr. Darcy's indifference to her; was it that her rational philosophy was a liability in making her way through an irrational world, or was it simply that in taking one false step she had misjudged him entirely? No, she could not have been thus far mistaken. And certainly she did not reciprocate his sentiments. To accept him would be an act of bad faith. It would not do. And yet it was inconceivable on so many levels that she do otherwise.
She turned toward him.
"I thank you, sir, for your assurances, and I would be honoured to be your wife," she heard herself say, and bit her lip in disbelief.
The gentleman was hardly surprised at her response, yet its effect on him was marked.
"Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, and stepped closer to her. Elizabeth was afraid for a moment that he might forget himself, but much to her relief he exhibited his usual impeccable restraint, and moved on decisively to the more practical matters at hand.
"Longbourn is but half a day's journey from here. I will leave tomorrow to speak with your father. You would, perhaps, like me to carry back letters for your family?"
Elizabeth nodded, thinking of their reaction to his news. That her mother would be ecstatic she did not doubt, but she was concerned for her father. She wondered how she would justify herself to him. He knew her too well to imagine her attached to Mr. Darcy, and he could not be satisfied to see her married without love.
"You are to dine at Rosings the day after. I will have returned by then, and informed Lady Catherine of our engagement. She will.. she must receive you with all the dignity due to my future wife," he continued, as much to himself as to her.
Having said thus much, Darcy excused himself. He said he would come by the next morning for her letters, and in bidding her farewell, he reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. He then bowed slightly, and left the room.
Elizabeth wondered whether he had noticed how she had flinched at his touch.
Part II
As Darcy departed for Hertfordshire the next day, he contemplated his situation. He had had a hard time of it convincing his aunt of the necessity of his absence without explaining his motive, and he knew that he must face her ire when she was confronted with it. He would make the necessary declaration immediately upon his return, that much he had already determined. Aunt Catherine must know that he could never marry his cousin Anne; it was imperative that he deflate her hopes on that count. He was more concerned about how she would react to the news of his engagement. The objections she would undoubtedly raise he was well acquainted with; he had grappled with them and far worse for many months now. Aware as she was of the inferiority of Miss Bennet's connections, she was necessarily ignorant of the lack of gentility of her family. Not that she had any rightful cause to complain of them; Darcy was well aware that his aunt's manners betrayed a dreadful lack of taste. He blushed to think of how dismissively she had treated his Elizabeth. That could not continue. It was not his aunt's wrath that concerned Darcy; it was the fact that she might refuse to acknowledge his future wife as such. Elizabeth must be received with due propriety at Rosings; any less would belittle him as much as it would her.
As he thought of the task that lay ahead of him, Darcy shuddered. He could not but think that the Bennets would welcome the match, but that he was voluntarily subjecting himself to such connections was still almost incomprehensible. He winced as he imagined Mrs. Bennet's raptures when she found out that her daughter was to be so advantageously connected. Still, the lady herself rendered these concerns inconsequential. He could not wait to show her his home; he had no doubt that he had found a woman fit to be called the mistress of Pemberley. As for her relations, he had seen her too often mortified at the behaviour of her family to think that she would embarrass him with reprehensible connections at his home.
About Miss Bennet, Darcy was more concerned. He was fair enough to admit that her behaviour had never been questionable, and he would not wish to deprive his wife of the company of her favourite sister. But he feared that his friend had not recovered sufficiently to be able to meet her as a common and indifferent acquaintance. And he was by no means convinced that she returned his friend's regard. That she would be prevailed upon to accept him, he did not doubt; she was of a temperament as pliable as that of Bingley, and her mother's wishes would hold sway. And he did not wish to see his friend married to a woman who, as much as she esteemed him, was unable to return his love.
In his own case, a similar concern could not hold. Elizabeth could not have been prevailed upon to accept a man whose feelings she did not reciprocate; he was fairly certain that she had refused her cousin, and he was aware that her mother had been eager to forward that match. Although the comparison between himself and the obsequious parson was a laughable one, it did show that Elizabeth knew her own mind. That she had been anticipating his addresses had been long evident in the archness of her manner when they conversed. He suspected that she had been privy to his comment upon first meeting her. "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me." How laughable that now seemed. He was sacrificing his every avowed intention in seeking to make her his wife. She was the only woman who had held her own against him; he remembered that she had in fact refused him a dance at the Lucas's party. He had been given a taste of his own medicine time and again; she had never found herself at a loss for words. And for her habit of showing him his place decidedly, but always in a manner that could not but please, she had won of him his heart. That she was his equal he had long acknowledged; that he could not bring himself to rejoice in her connections was only natural and just. And although his doubts on that score continued, he was no less confident that he would be compensated for them by a partner who must fulfil his ideal of marital felicity. That she returned his sentiments was of course evident in her spirited manner, and while he had not been blind to her hesitation at allowing his slight embrace, he acknowledged that such a reaction was a natural consequence of her modesty, and that with a closer acquaintance she would learn to be more comfortable with the intimacies which must ensue between them.
As the carriage pulled into Longbourn, Darcy was drawn out of his pleasant reveries. He stepped out, and was announced to the lady of the house.
"Mr. Darcy! You are welcome to Longbourn," she said, with more surprise than warmth in her manner.
"Good Afternoon, ma'am," he responded, with a slight bow, "if I might speak with your husband? It is a matter of some urgency."
"He is in his study," she said, "I suppose he will see you there. Hil! Show the gentleman to Mr. Bennet, will you!"
"Mr. Darcy! How may I help you?" Came Mr. Bennet's inquiry. Was it possible that they were so entirely ignorant of his intentions!
"Mr. Bennet," he said, "I have come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."
Mr. Bennet was utterly flustered at his request. Mr. Darcy had a partiality for his daughter! Which daughter? He had not seen them in at least two months.
"My daughter..."
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I spoke to her yesterday, and obtained her consent to solicit your blessing."
"You have spoken to Lizzy? You have been at Hunsford, then?"
"My aunt, Lady Catherine, is the mistress of a neighbouring estate, Rosings Park. I have been visiting there these last several weeks."
"Lady Catherine is your aunt, eh! I understand from our cousin that she is a lady of great condescension," the older man replied, with a twinkle in his eyes.
Although he concurred with this opinion, Darcy flushed to hear his relation so described. He decided, however, to return to the more pressing issue at hand.
"As I mentioned, sir, your daughter has permitted my addresses, and it remains only for you to authorise our engagement," he said, rather shortly, and then collected himself, as he saw that Mr. Bennet remained unconvinced. "Almost from the first moments of our acquaintance, sir, I have known that we were ideally suited for one another, and in our interaction with each other I have found daily confirmation of this. I admit that I was somewhat reluctant to allow an attachment to form, but I have come to realise that without your daughter my life must remain incomplete. I have been so fortunate as to have gained her acceptance of my suit, and I must ask you for your blessing."
Mr. Bennet was looking at him thoughtfully. Darcy continued to speak.
"I can assure you, sir, that I am well able to maintain her in the style in which she deserves to live. My fortune is sizeable enough that she can want for nothing material, and my affection and esteem for her must ensure that she will be treated with the utmost consideration."
Mr. Bennet was perplexed. He saw before him a man violently in love, that much was certain. That he was, in sense and understanding, suited to Lizzy also seemed likely. But Lizzy had been so earnest in her protestations of hatred. It was almost inconceivable that she had accepted him. But of course she must have, or Darcy would not be before him now. He supposed that she must have come to value this man. She could not have accepted him on any other terms.
"I have no objection to make, Mr. Darcy. If Lizzy has accepted you, I would not wish to lay any obstacles in the way of her happiness. I must say, I dearly wish I could speak to her right now."
"Thank you, sir. I assure you that I will do everything in my power to further her happiness. She did give me a letter for you, sir, and one for your wife."
Darcy handed him the letters, and took his leave.
Mr. Bennet perused his letter thoughtfully. Lizzy corraborated everything Mr. Darcy had said, but there was an unusual lack of liveliness in her letter. It was only natural that she should have some concerns about so important a decision. He hoped, though, that she would not regret her choice.
"You are determined to have him, that much I can see. He does deserve you, Lizzy, I hope you know that. I know your disposition. You could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage."
Part III
Darcy sighed with relief as the carriage pulled out of the gates of Longbourn. He had of course spent the night there, since Netherfield was unoccupied at present, and he had not wished to slight his future in-laws by refusing their hospitality. But it was impossible to deny that in staying with them the objections to his impending marriage had became, if possible, even more starkly apparent without the pleasantly mitigating effects of the object of his affections. He had been taking a stroll in the park when Mr. Bennet had informed the family of the forthcoming nuptials, but even at a considerable distance from the house he could swear that the words "ten thousand a year!" in Mrs. Bennet's habitually high-strung pitch had reached his ears. For the rest of the day he had been subjected to kind of deference that could not but offend; the younger Miss Bennets had, apparently at their mother's urging, endeavoured to ascertain his tastes in food, a circumstance that would have amused him had he not been always aware of the fact that such was the behaviour of his future relatives. Mrs. Bennet had been too much in awe of him to injure herself in his eyes any further; her sister, the unfortunate Mrs. Phillips, however, had not been able to resist a most tasteless inquisition on the subject of his material wealth. Lydia Bennet had succeeded in offending as well; she had announced the engagement in the most unguarded of terms to some of the officers of the regiment who had come around to the house. "Lizzy is to marry that proud Mr. Darcy. Could you have imagined such a thing? He must be very rich, for of course she can not love him!" He had heard her exclamations as he returned to the house, and the words still stung in his ears.
As the carriage reached the vicinity of Rosings, Darcy realized that it was still some time before the Collins and their guests were to come to dinner. If he were to head back to the house now he knew he would have to explain himself to Lady Catherine. He knew that if she learnt of his betrothal she might very well refuse to receive Miss Bennet. And Darcy was determined not to allow her this option. For his cousin Anne's sake he would not make the declaration after Elizabeth's arrival. But he would wait until such a time when it would be impossible to cancel the engagement for dinner. For the present, he decided to stop the carriage and walk back to Rosings through the woods. This would buy him the time he needed, as well as the solitude he required to fortify him for his encounter with his aunt. And the woods of Rosings held pleasant associations for him. In his childhood they had been his only recourse against the tyranny of his aunt, and in the last few weeks, he had, on many an occasion, encountered his beloved walking through these very groves. He had met her in her favorite spots, and observed her growing perplexity at his continuing silence. That was all in the past now. He had overcome his doubts, and spoken his affection. They need no longer meet as strangers, and part in silence.
Elizabeth had spent a troubled night after Mr. Darcy's departure. The short letters she had handed him the next day had been the product of much thoughtful consideration; she could hardly express herself with anything approaching honesty without giving much sorrow to her family, or at least to her father. Many a time did she contemplate putting an end to this farcical engagement. Mr. Darcy had acknowledged his doubts about the match; he would certainly recover from his disappointment quickly. But she held back from this drastic step, and she could hardly express why. Though she could not admit to herself that she felt for him in the way she was convinced a woman ought to for a man soon to be her husband, she had an unshakable conviction that she could not bear to exist in the world and have him think ill of her. At times she would come close to believing that she could be happy with him; his affection for her certainly boded well, and she had never questioned his sense and understanding. Then thoughts of Jane would intrude, and Wickham's words would come back to her, and she would clearly visualise the misery that lay ahead in a life shared with him. But troubled though she was by these thoughts, they could not persuade her to abandon the course she had chosen.
The next day, she confided in Charlotte of her engagement. Elizabeth had thought that they would never again be as close as they were wont to be after her wedding, but under the present circumstances she was ideally suited as Lizzy's confidante. Charlotte was extremely pleased for her friend, of course, and not entirely surprised. She rejoiced that Lizzy had not allowed her romantic notions to overshadow what must undoubtedly be in her best interest, but she realised that Lizzy, despite her acceptance, might not be entirely reconciled to the match. She tactfully avoided any references to the material considerations that Lizzy had evidently taken into account, but might not be proud of, and spoke of how well the two were suited. Charlotte was a pragmatist, but she was not blind to the less quantifiable criteria for choosing a partner in life that her friend had earlier defended. Though it had been in her own best interests to settle down with a man lacking in understanding, she was happy that her friend had found a man whose consequence was no more admirable than his sense. Charlotte, like Jane, had always had a value for Mr. Darcy; his pride she saw as a natural consequence of his position, and she had not been so entirely comfortable in their Hertfordshire circle to be blind to its deficiencies he must have perceived in it. Lizzy's liveliness she saw as a fitting complement to his gravity, and she had hoped for this conclusion ever since Lizzy had been persuaded to dance with him at the Netherfield ball.
Lizzy was much comforted by her conference with Charlotte; the marriage as her friend represented it to her seemed more than endurable, and Charlotte's recommendation of Mr. Darcy was so glowing as to make her think that she might almost be able to love the man. Certainly, if Charlotte could be content with Mr. Collins, her own chances of marital felicity must be high indeed. Mr. Darcy's attachment could not be the imaginary affection that Mr. Collins had first professed to her, and then almost immediately diverted to Charlotte; his own account of how he had struggled with his feelings were a strong testimonial in his favor. And her inability to terminate the engagement must signify some return.
Her feelings were entirely unsettled. As she thought back to their every playful interchange, it became overwhelmingly obvious that he had long been struggling with his feelings for her. Her own actions, however, she was unable to account for. That she had been piqued at his dismissal of her at the Meryton assembly she understood, and this sentiment had coloured her view of him was clear. But she realised that her views had not remained so one-dimensional; she had come to respect his abilities, although his manner she was never comfortable with. His words from only a few days earlier came back to her. "We neither of us perform to strangers." Was it possible that their awkwardness had sprung from nothing other than unfamiliarity?
As Lizzy deliberated over her future, she found herself once again in the woods where she had often sought solace in these last few weeks. It was only a short while before they were to leave for Rosings. After tonight, there would be no turning back. Her engagement would be as good as public, and she could not break it without exciting comment, and inviting speculation. And at this crucial juncture, her feelings were a most inadequate guide. She could not quite reconcile herself to the match, but she was becoming powerless to break it off. Her family already knew of the engagement, which necessarily meant that the news had spread all over Meryton and the nearby villages. And tonight, his closest relatives would learn of it; in fact, had perhaps learnt of it already. She smiled, thinking of Lady Catherine's reaction, but grew grave again as she returned to her own dilemma. And as she walked through the woods, pondering the most important decision of her life, Elizabeth Bennet gave in to a sudden impulse, and, not quite knowing what she did, she wept from an uncertainty more troubling than any grievance she could name.
Strolling through the woods, Mr. Darcy found himself drawn once again to the nook Elizabeth had informed him was her favorite. It was, indeed, ideally suited to solitary reflection, although he could not but think of it without seeing her there with him. There were obstacles, no doubt, to their future happiness still, but the most important had been removed. Inevitable though his vacillation had been, he realized now that he could not have acted otherwise. If he had squandered precious time in reaching this conclusion, he would have a lifetime to make it up to Elizabeth, and have always the comfort of being secure in his decision. All that remained now was to announce his intentions forth to the world, and to carry them forth to fruition. He found himself almost anticipating his interview with his aunt. Whatever her reaction tonight might be, and he had no doubt that her opposition would be violent, she would not be able to prevent the wedding. His step quickened as he approached the happy spot, and his mind was agreeably occupied on a pair of fine eyes. So entranced was he in his mind's eye, that he very nearly did not observe the sight before him. Elizabeth stood there, a very short distance away, weeping piteously.
"Miss Bennet,... Elizabeth," he said, and reaching towards her, he cradled her in his arms. She was yet to remark on his presence, and continued to shed her tears on his chest. And even as he realised that she must be suffering grievously, he knew he would not have it any other way, than that he should be there to hold her as she wept. He let her cry, and waited for the explanation that must follow once she had dried her tears.
Elizabeth hardly knew what she did. She had not noticed his presence until he had reached for her, and for some minutes afterward, she continued to weep, unable to collect herself. As her tears began to dry, however, she began to see the impropriety of her situation. He had not interrupted her; for this she was inexpressibly grateful. But though he had not pressed for one, he would undoubtedly expect an explanation, and she had none to give.
"Mr. Darcy, I... I did not see you coming," she said as she drew back. "Excuse me."
She met his eyes once more, helplessly, not knowing what more to say, then looked away quickly. And with that, she fled in the direction of the parsonage.
Darcy looked on, mystified.
Part IV
Charlotte was exceedingly puzzled. Lizzy had returned from her walk visibly shaken, with only minutes to dress for dinner at Rosings. Any confidences she might have been willing to share was necessarily postponed because of Mr. Collins' plaintive entreaties for a punctual arrival at Rosings. Her friend was very far from her usual self, but she had declined Charlotte's offer that she remain behind at the parsonage again. So evidently she was prepared to be presented as Lady Catherine's future niece. But such a presentation was yet to be made. It was obvious from Mr. Darcy's countenance that his affection for her friend continued unabated, but it was equally apparent that he was as worried about her as Charlotte herself. She was at a loss to account for the source of Lizzy's anxiety, or for Darcy's silence. She realised that the one must have brought about the other, but she could not imagine what the matter might be. Lizzy could not have broken off the match, or she would not have subjected herself to this ordeal. And surely there was no necessity for a secret engagement. Mr. Darcy possessed his fortune independently, so there could be no financial concerns. That his aunt would decry the connection seemed almost certain, but there was no real possibility of altering her opinion, and Mr. Darcy, having made an offer to Lizzy, was probably willing to brave her displeasure.
Mr. Darcy continued discomposed. After his encounter with Elizabeth in the forest, he had found himself unwilling to make the necessary announcement to his relations before once more consulting with her. Unlikely as it was that she had any serious misgivings about the match, he found himself dreading the possibility that she might have reconsidered her opinion. He was glad that she had decided to come to Rosings tonight. It would have been intolerable to have speculated about her absence; as it was, the image of her fleeing from him, teary-eyed, was etched into his heart. It was evident that she was not yet entirely recovered from her outburst, but he also detected her puzzlement. She was evidently wondering at his silence, but she had to realize that he needed some explanation for her outburst. He found himself wondering how he could contrive an opportunity for them to exchange a few words privately without attracting the attention of their companions.
It was Charlotte, however, who decided that the present situation could not continue, and set about taking the necessary steps to remedy it. As far as she was concerned, any delay would only breed anxiety and confusion. It was essential that Lizzy talk things over with Mr. Darcy; he was obviously the source of her discomfiture. And if they proved unwilling to utilize her opening, she would at least have the opportunity to extract Lizzy's confidence on what was troubling her. Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, she said, "You haven't had an opportunity to look at the maze here at Rosings, have you, Lizzy? It is one of the most remarkable features of the Park. With your permission, Lady Catherine, perhaps we could take a turn there before dinner?"
"My dear Charlotte," came her husband's reproof, "I should be glad to take cousin Elizabeth at any other time myself, but do consider. Dinner..."
"Indeed, Mrs. Collins, you must show your friend around the park. Her complexion is quite pale; she would undoubtedly benefit from the exercise." Lady Catherine's peremptory response found Mr. Collins turning his reproofs inward. He silenced himself with an exaggerated gesture.
"Will you permit me to join you? I would not like you ladies to get lost inside so soon before nightfall. The maze is fairly intricate, and it is best that you are accompanied by someone experienced at finding his way through it." Darcy was grateful for Charlotte's opening.
"I cannot contest that Darcy is an old hand at the maze, but I recommend that you allow me to join you as well. My cousin is as likely to deliberately throw you off as to guide you through it," Colonel Fitzwilliam rejoined. He was glad of any opportunity to escape his aunt's society, and included himself in this little excursion.
The colonel had thought that he would accompany Miss Bennet, and was a little surprised when Darcy claimed that honour. He went up to Mrs. Collins, therefore, and offered her his arm. His surprise did not escape Charlotte, but she accepted, and they followed the other couple out of the french windows.
"I see, Colonel, that you are disappointed in my society. But perhaps you ought to make the best of it. My friend and Mr. Darcy do not seem inclined to wait for us." She opened, cautiously, when they were out of earshot.
He smiled disarmingly.
"You mistake me, Mrs. Collins. I am surprised, that is all. Darcy has seemed less than eager to renew his acquaintance with Miss Bennet. I was wondering at his change of heart, although it might be more apt to wonder at his delay in approaching her."
His reply left Charlotte uncertain as to his information.
"Approaching her?" she asked.
The colonel considered her question. Darcy had confided nothing in him, but he had his suspicions.
"I only meant that they have sought each other's society very little. When Darcy spoke of her in London, I had assumed a much closer acquaintance."
He stopped, wondering whether he had said too much.
Charlotte had by now realised that the Colonel was not in Mr. Darcy's confidence, but she still hoped to learn more about his cousin's intentions.
"Our social circle in Hertfordshire was very limited. They were much thrown together, but one could hardly have said that they sought each other out," she said, staying on safe ground, but reluctant to abandon the subject. "But I thought you knew this. Lizzy complained to you of your cousin's slight, did she not?" she added, smiling.
Fitzwilliam chuckled, recalling her arch manner, and his cousin's discomfiture.
"Indeed she did. Perhaps we had best rejoice that they seem to have made up, then? I'm glad Darcy is remembering his manners; he is rather too apt to be shy in company. He does have the most extraordinary exchanges with your friend, though. I'm sorry I cannot eavesdrop on them."
"In that case, Colonel, I'm glad I'm here to remind you of your manners."
They laughed at Charlotte's rejoinder, and continued on companionably. But despite all of the ease in their interchange, his companion turned his own thoughts in a rather grim trajectory. He could not but wonder at her marriage to such a ridiculous husband, and the question nagged at him whether he would ever have to settle for so desperate a match.
Elizabeth and Darcy were well into the maze before either of them breached the silence. The one was too embarrassed to bring up their last encounter, and the other waited still to hear what his companion might have to say.
At last she rounded up her courage and spoke, knowing that her words must be inadequate explanation, but hoping that he would ask no more.
"Mr. Darcy, about this evening. Things have progressed rather suddenly, and I was overcome. I did not mean to importune you as I did."
"It is I who ought to apologize, for bursting upon you as I did. I hope you will forgive the liberty, but I could not bear to see you in such a desperate state." She coloured slightly, and he continued, suddenly apprehensive, "You do not have any misgivings, I hope. If you would like to be released from our engagement..."
Elizabeth held her breath for a moment. There could be no turning back after this. But had not affairs progressed too far already? She thought of her mother's response to this refusal. If the loss of Mr. Collins had been felt so deeply, what would be said now? By now all of Hertfordshire had probably had word of the match. Lizzy had never worried about what people would think of her, but to be surrounded by the gossip that must result if the engagement were to be publicised and then broken was not to be endured. And Mr. Darcy himself was lately so different. He had been uncommonly kind to her in the forest, and even now, his sentiments were surely irreproachable. Elizabeth could not repudiate the compliment of such affection; at that moment, she was almost convinced that it might be possible that she return it in kind.
"I would not, sir. I am sorry to have given you cause to doubt my commitment. It is just that the thought of having to leave my home, and my family..."
The light in his eyes on hearing her reply was all that any woman could have wished for in her professed lover, and his reply must also be deemed entirely satisfactory, although the most discerning might have noticed some slight hesitation in his manner.
"I hope you do not think that I would ever wish to separate you from your family. They will always be welcome at Pemberley."
He took her hand in his and continued.
"Elizabeth, it is my particular wish that you and my sister grow to be as close as sisters. She has not been in company much, and might perhaps be thought proud, but it is only her shyness which prevents her from expressing her amiability." Elizabeth wondered this was not an apt description of the brother as well, as he went on, "I know she wishes to make your acquaintance, and I hope to accomplish the introduction as soon as may be. I do not think it too much to hope that your own lively disposition may be a beneficial influence for her."
"I look forward to meeting her." she replied, sensible to the compliment.
They had reached the center of the maze entirely oblivious to their surroundings.
"I have been remiss indeed as a guide." he remarked, with a small smile, "Perhaps you will be so kind as to lead us out of here."
Elizabeth wondered at his easy manner, and found herself replying in her habitual tones.
"That will not do at all. This must be the treachery the Colonel warned us of. I must decline the honour, sir; I had rather be escorted by an experienced gentleman than drag him around and have him laugh at my every misstep."
He smiled at her as he offered her his arm once again.
"So be it, madam." His gaze grew deeper as he looked penetratingly into her eyes. "You have made me a very happy man, Elizabeth. I hope I never give you cause to regret it."
"Shall we return? Lady Catherine awaits." he continued, in a more collected manner. "I apologize for not having declared my intentions to her earlier, but after I met you in the forest, I could not say anything before I had ascertained your views on the matter. It shall be rectified just now, although it must be more awkward for cousin Anne, and myself. Still, the announcement must be made; Lady Catherine must acknowledge you."
As they walked back to the house together, Elizabeth was uncommonly silent as she reflected on her situation. She was beginning to feel that she might have been very fortunate in her choice of a partner. Now that he had acknowledged her as a part of his life, Mr. Darcy's manner had lost its inscrutable quality, and gained an openness that she was drawn to. It was gratifying that her own open temper had thus influenced him, and that he had been willing to forego his prejudices against her and her family even thus far. And yet, she realised, she could not be entirely content. There was still an element of restraint between them. Elizabeth could not be entirely open with such a man; she felt as though he were judging her constantly, and that to fall short would be to risk losing his affection. And there was another matter that caused her no little concern; as she began to understand the extent of his feelings for her, Elizabeth was realising that in spite of her growing attachment, she could not match the intensity of his ardour. And once again she contemplated breaking off the match, but this time it was not her own discontent that motivated her, but rather, her realisation of the inequity of their mutual attachment.
Part V
As they emerged from the maze, Elizabeth and Darcy found Charlotte and Colonel Fitzwilliam waiting for them. The colonel, thinking over his conversation with the parson's wife, and observing the demeanor of her friend and his cousin, was beginning to put the facts together, but nothing could have prepared him for the announcement that followed when they returned to the drawing room.
While the others returned to their seats, Darcy and Elizabeth remained standing directly in front of the entire company. It was not until all eyes had turned in their direction inquisitively that Darcy began.
"Aunt Catherine, I have an announcement to make. Miss Bennet has consented to be my wife, and we should both like your blessing."
His quiet, understated demeanor was belied by the fire in his eyes. He was entirely conscious of the irony in his statement; he had no expectation of a blessing; he knew he had had issued an ultimatum of sorts. But it would not do for his wife to be dismissed by his aunt. He was determined to extract an acknowledgment, but he expected to have to battle for it.
He was not disappointed.
"That is absurd. I wonder that such a girl should have been able to trap you simply by dragging you into the shrubbery, but it is immaterial, for you are engaged to Anne."
Lizzy drew in her breath sharply, and was about to respond when she heard Darcy speak.
"I will not have my future wife spoken of in such a manner. Miss Bennet has not trapped me. My feelings for her of long standing. And there is no bar to the match. We have received the blessing of her parents, and there is no one to speak for me save myself."
"And what of your mother's word? It was her dearest wish as well as mine that you and Anne would some day marry."
"My mother would have wanted me to behave in a manner most conducive to my own happiness, without reference to the idle speculation she may have indulged in during my childhood, for I am certain that she meant it as no more. I am sorry if this causes my cousin some pain, but I have long known that we could never marry, and I suspect that her views on the matter are no different from mine."
"And so you have determined to wed a country girl of few manners and no breeding? This is how you discharge your responsibility to your family? Is this to be borne? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"
"I will trouble you once again, Aunt Catherine, to remember that you speak of the woman who is to be my wife."
Seeing that she was making little headway with her nephew, Lady Catherine deigned to turn to the lady under discussion.
"I see you have cast your net quite well. I congratulate you on your conquest. Since my nephew will not listen to reason, I suppose I must persuade you, and I must add that I am not in the habit of brooking disappointment. This is an advantageous match indeed, but honour, decorum, prudence -- nay, interest, forbid it. Do not expect to be noticed by family or friends. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."
Elizabeth, who had been standing by bristling with indignation in hearing herself spoken of in such a manner, could restrain herself no longer when directly addressed.
"In marrying Mr. Darcy I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman's daughter. So far we are equal. And the misfortunes you have described are heavy indeed, but the wife of Mr. Darcy could, on the whole, have nothing to repine."
"Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you? Take heed, Fitzwilliam. This is the heartless creature you mean to make your wife. She refuses every claim of duty, honour, and gratitude. Has this shameless display brought you to your senses at last?"
"Miss Bennet has said no more than I might have myself." Darcy, though slightly alarmed that she should speak thus to his aunt, was in fact gratified at the words of his affianced. Any last shreds of regret he might have had about the match were being laid to rest as he observed his aunt's shameless display. For the first time it struck him that his family and hers were not so entirely different. "I regret that you cannot take pleasure in our alliance, but I must ask that you acknowledge it."
"I will do no such thing, Fitzwilliam. You must reconsider your responsibility to your family. Young men often suffer such lapses in judgment. When you realise your folly you will not hear me chastise you," she finished graciously, and turned away.
Darcy was not at all inclined to test this particular resolve of his aunt's, although had he stopped to consider it he would have been very doubtful of her promise.
"Then we can have nothing more to say to each other. Come, Elizabeth."
Without waiting for any further response, they quit the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam hurried after them to offer his congratulations and his support. Anne was left looking rather paler than usual, although she was by no means displeased at her cousin's pronouncement. Mrs. Collins' worried gaze followed her friend out into the garden, although she stayed by her husband's side as he attempted to console his noble patroness as best he could.
Part VI
Having escorted Elizabeth back to the parsonage, Darcy waited in the parlour, contemplating the events of the night. He could not be content at the outcome, although he knew that his aunt had forced his hand. He had not intended for matters to come to such a juncture, and had hoped to have been able to extract an acknowledgment from her. And yet, he had been nothing if not moderate in his statements; it was she who had chosen to rebuff his every attempt. Perhaps if Elizabeth had not spoken.... He forced the thought to remain unformed. He could not reprove her for defending herself from such a vicious attack. The fault was his for having failed to approach his aunt in her absence. But even so, the outcome would not have been so very different. He would not have borne such accusations any more than she had been able to, all the more so because he could not entirely discount them. And yet, his response had only served to make her threats more real. He did not underestimate his aunt. She would do everything in her power to influence the family and his social circle against the match. Elizabeth's connections would necessarily be held against her; the additional circumstance of having alienated his aunt could not bode well for her. He repented of his anger; had he not chosen to turn his back on her there might have been a possibility of gaining some form of recognition. Still, he had weapons of his own to counter his aunt's offensive. After all, Elizabeth would have Pemberley behind her.
After tonight, he could remain no longer in Rosings. He would remove to London immediately. Elizabeth, too, did not wish to importune her cousin and her friend by remaining long at the parsonage. That Mr. Collins would be uncomfortable harbouring in his house the object of his patroness's derision was inevitable, and Elizabeth did not want to make Charlotte's position any more awkward than it already was by virtue of their friendship. Knowing that she would be unable to arrange conveyance, he had felt bound to assist her, and they had arranged that he should take her to her relations in London. Even that arrangement could not meet with his entire approval, but for the moment the address of her London relations had to be a secondary consideration. He took comfort in thinking that she would never have to live in Cheapside again. Colonel Fitzwilliam had agreed to join them so that their departure together would not savour of impropriety. Darcy was not willing to risk Elizabeth's repute; their marriage would excite enough gossip even as the circumstances stood.
As Elizabeth hurriedly packed her belongings upstairs, she too was reflecting on the events of the night. On their walk through the maze, for the first time, she had allowed herself to contemplate the possibility of marital felicity with Mr. Darcy, but the subsequent battle with Lady Catherine had done a great deal to dispel this vision. She had felt compelled to stand up to that lady, but she was no less aware than Darcy of the meaning of her rebuff. She had, in fact, been a little surprised to see him so eager to stand up for her. It was not as though he and his aunt disagreed. After all, he had made it patently clear to her in his proposal that he did not consider their circumstances to be at all equal. But of course the insult to her now extended to him as well, and he had been compelled to defend himself. As Elizabeth contemplated her future, she realised that now, finally, she had reached the point of no return. He had been willing to go so far as to sacrifice his relationship with his aunt for her sake. For her to refuse him now would be expose him to the cruelest mortification, and this she could not do to him. As her doubts began to flow back into her mind, Elizabeth made a valiant effort to crush them. She thought back to his kindness to her in the forest, and his tender expressions as they had walked together, but her fickle memory now pointed out other circumstances. She thought of the unstated sorrow and resignation that had come to characterise Jane's letters, and the sincere regret with which Wickham had told her the story of his betrayal. Could these be the actions of the man who had looked into her eyes only a few hours ago and told her that he would never give her cause to regret linking her destiny to his? There was a voice within her that told her that it could not be so, that there must be some circumstance she was ignorant of, but as she thought back upon their acquaintance she saw there could be only one rational explanation -- that the man she was to marry was in fact the proud creature she had always supposed him to be, and that his recent tenderness and defence of her sprung from the fact that it would not suit his dignity that his future wife be treated otherwise. But the compliment of his affection was still strongly felt, and the transformation that had been wrought on her own feelings so recently had not yet worn off. Lizzy could not bring herself to humiliate Darcy by now refusing him.
Essaying still to vanquish her lingering doubts, Lizzy concentrated on the short note she would leave for Charlotte, making her apologies for curtailing her visit, and informing her of her immediate plans. As she reviewed the letter, she noted with satisfaction that it was tolerably cheerful. She did not want to add to Charlotte's worries; these next few weeks would be hard enough for her between tending to her husband's plight and that of his patroness.
She sealed the letter and left it with the housemaid, to be delivered to Charlotte upon her return from Rosings. She then joined Darcy downstairs. Colonel Fitzwilliam soon arrived from Rosings with his own effects as well as his cousin's, and they all departed for London together.
Part VII
When they finally drew into London, it was very late indeed. Elizabeth, exhausted after all the day's events, tried to sleep to fortify herself to meet Jane and the Gardiners. Her efforts were not entirely successful; she could sleep only fitfully, and it brought her little comfort. Darcy and the Colonel were both awake, though they spoke little, considerate for Elizabeth's rest. Darcy was glad for the silence. His eyes were on Elizabeth for the entire duration of the journey, studying the play of moonlight and shadow upon her features. He seemed entranced, and his thoughts seemed very far away, although it was obvious which way they actually turned.
The colonel was studying both of his companions. Although he had suspected Darcy of a partiality, he had been entirely unprepared for these developments. He had never known Darcy to be abrupt; he was wont to deliberate at length on any small decision. That he would take a step of such magnitude with alacrity was inconceivable; Fitzwilliam wondered how long thoughts of Miss Bennet had tormented him before he had allowed himself to speak. His defiance of Lady Catherine was equally shocking, and his disavowal of her favour entirely unprecedented. Fitzwilliam had often teased his cousin for his refusal to stand up to their aunt, and had predicted as the outcome Darcy's wedding to their unprepossessing cousin. But Darcy had outdone himself; he had stated the facts of the matter, and refused entirely to mollify the old dragon. Her expressions had been unpardonable, undoubtedly, but it was difficult to imagine that he had intended to renounce her favour. Fitzwilliam eyed his cousin remorsefully, and wondered whether he had hoped to bring Lady Catherine around. Now, of course, it was utterly impossible; there was no turning back from such a gesture as he had made in walking out of Rosings. A smile sprung unbidden to his lips as he reflected upon it; what an eloquent gesture it had been! For the first time in her life, Aunt Catherine had found herself entirely unable to speak. The obsequious parson had attempted to fill the silence with his expressions of apology, until he trickled into silence under his patroness's glare. Fitzwilliam had been glad to leave them and follow his cousin into the lawn. He only hoped that Darcy was not now remorseful about the projected match. Surely there could be no cause for such a thought; he could hardly regret his aunt's disapprobation when he had won such a prize as Miss Bennet. Fitzwilliam wryly admitted to himself that he could not but be a little jealous of his cousin's good fortune. To love such a woman, and to be certain of a return, must be the cause of the greatest felicity. And since the woman in question was Elizabeth Bennet, there could be no doubting a return. She was not a woman to covet his cousin's wealth. He hoped his cousin realised how lucky he had been to gain her favour; his manner, certainly, had left something wanting. That, however, had undoubtedly changed by now; Darcy was expressive enough with his intimate acquaintances, and this woman would be his wife. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to wonder what might have happened had his actions been unrestrained by his pocket book. To be loved by Elizabeth Bennet..... No, it would not do to think in such a way. He convinced himself that it would all have come to naught, regardless; after all, she must already have been attached to Darcy.
The carriage pulled up at the Cheapside address Elizabeth had given, but neither Elizabeth or Darcy responded. Elizabeth had finally fallen asleep, and Darcy was lost in his reverie. The colonel coughed, hoping to rouse them. Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, and Darcy averted his eyes when she blushed at finding them regarding her so intently.
"We are in London already? Mr. Darcy, Colonel, won't you come in with me? I am sure my uncle will wish to meet you both."
They nodded, and escorted her to the door.
Part VIII
It had been barely half an hour since a sudden knock on the door had roused them all from their slumber, and the Gardiner household was still in an uproar. Mr. Gardiner had himself answered; the servants' quarters were in the back of the house, and they had not responded to the noise. His astonishment had been great indeed, for as it turned out he had been left entirely ignorant of the circumstances that had prompted the visit. His sister, engrossed in spreading the happy news through Meryton, was yet to think of informing him, and although Mr. Bennet had sent word, the state of the postal system was such that it would not reach them for another day or two. Finding his niece accompanied by two strange men had done nothing to allay his anxiety.
But now all had been explained. Darcy and the colonel had come in, and had sat for a little bit. The women had been roused, the story unfolded. The gentlemen had taken their leave, and nothing remained to be done but for them all to return to their beds. But the astonishment of all was such that Lizzy had to tell her tale over and over again. He chuckled thinking on it; certainly her description of Lady Catherine's ire had taken on a more interesting note after her betrothed had parted from her. But although he was happy for her, Mr. Gardiner could not be but a little concerned, and he saw from her face that his wife shared his opinion. It was not that they doubted the mutual commitment of the pair. The gentleman's affection was clearly spelt out on his face, and Lizzy would never have accepted him had she not returned his sentiments. Rather, it was the circumstances they had described prompted his concern. Lizzy's wealth and standing was nothing to this gentleman's; she would obviously face some resistance in the circles he moved in. And although he had been unfailingly polite, the Gardiners had detected in his demeanor something of the pride they had earlier heard Lizzy discourse on at length. She must have overcome her bias, but could this mean that she would henceforth be lost to them? Although they celebrated her good fortune, they could not be content at this thought.
When they finally managed to draw the children away from Lizzy, and put them back in bed, the Gardiners returned to their own chamber, and exchanged a rueful smile. There was much to talk on, but it would have to wait. He had a day of work ahead of him, and she would be kept as busy tending to the children. As they drifted back to sleep, they each thought of Lizzy, and grew more sanguine than they had been. Lizzy would never forsake them; she must have found herself mistaken in her opinions. They were glad she had rectified her mistake; they knew their niece well enough to recognize her inclination towards stubbornness. It would have been a shame indeed if this tendency had prevented her from finding her happiness.
There was another member of the family party, however, to whom more than a simple recounting of the facts might be due, if only because of her close relationship to one of the parties in question. When the rest of the household retired again for the night, Jane came to Lizzy's chamber that they might talk in private.
"Lizzy, I am so happy for you! Mr. Darcy must love you so very much!"
Her sister smiled wryly.
"Who would ever have thought of such a thing?"
"I confess I always had a value for him, if only because he was the friend of....." The sentence remained unformed, but sentiment was not uncommunicated. All of doubts Lizzy had been pushing from her mind came again to her in force. They must have been reflected in her countenance, for Jane suddenly said, "Do anything, Lizzy, except marry without affection. I know how much you disliked him. Do you now really love him?"
But though her doubts lingered, Lizzy considered herself too far committed to allow for the possibility of a retraction. Being thus committed, she did not wish that her sister should have any inkling of her concerns, and affected a lightness she did not feel.
"My dislike is all long forgotten. In such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable."
"Oh, Lizzy! Do be serious! Have you truly overcome it?"
To this, at least, Lizzy could answer honestly; she certainly did not hate him as she once had. She attempted to allay her sister's concerns by telling her of his recent gallantry. Jane, who could never long continue to think ill of her sister, pronounced herself satisfied at Lizzy's response, and apologized for ever having doubted her. The sisters shared a close embrace, and Jane, once more congratulating Lizzy on her happiness, left the room.
As Lizzy went to her bed, she found that sleep would not come. She thought back on her conversation with Jane, and wondered at her sister's evident satisfaction at what she perceived as a happy outcome. Surely she, who had directly suffered at his hand, could not acquit Darcy of having alienated his friend's affection? Elizabeth was grieved to see that Jane's affection for Mr. Bingley continued unabated, but she comforted herself that circumstances were now different. Having plighted his troth to her, Mr. Darcy could surely not continue to object to Jane as a suitable match for his friend. Once again she reiterated to herself the expressions that had so recently convinced Jane of her affection for him. As she thought of him, she was almost content. He had certainly stood by her through circumstances that could not have been easy for him; he had even endured the company of tradespeople from Cheapside. With herself, she had less reason to be content. Although she constantly rationalized her approaching marriage in every imaginable way, she could not contradict the fact that any happy circumstance she could recollect that had altered her opinion had been subsequent to her engagement. Lizzy was beginning to see that her intended spouse might well be worthy indeed; it was she who had entered the engagement for all the wrong reasons.
Part IX
The following morning found Darcy at his club, perusing the morning paper over a solitary breakfast. The Colonel had been too tired to join him this morning, but Darcy was habitually an early riser, and in spite of the previous day's exertions he had not been able to stay in bed. The staff at the townhouse had been entirely unprepared for his arrival; he was not expected to return from Kent for some weeks. Georgiana had been delighted to see him, and could not contain her joy at his news. Truth be told, she had been rather anxious that he would attach himself to Miss Bingley, and that lady's information about the Bennets Georgiana had interpreted as the highest recommendation. Her alternating enthusiasm and apprehension at the impending introduction had kept her up most of the night, and when Darcy left the house in the morning she had only just fallen asleep.
Darcy had not wanted to rouse the entire household so early, but he was also glad of the solitude afforded him by his club. Today he would finally be able to introduce the two most important women in his life, and he was somewhat apprehensive about the meeting. He dearly hoped that the two of them would be comfortable with each other. Elizabeth would be a very significant influence on Georgiana for the next few years, and he wanted very much that they should get along well together. Elizabeth would certainly take the effort to draw his sister out; he only hoped that her vivacity did not cause Georgiana to retreat still further into her shell. He had always wanted to give Georgiana a proper home, and with Elizabeth at his side, he would certainly want his sister to join them at Pemberley.
As he glanced idly through the matrimonial columns, he noticed that his own engagement had been announced. Darcy smiled ruefully as he thought of his future mother-in-law; she had neglected to inform her own brother, but the news had been forwarded to the papers post-haste. The announcement, at least, did not embarrass him, though as he read through it the words "ten thousand a year" echoed through his mind. There was no indication of the disparity between his situation and that of Elizabeth; London might yet treat the match as one between equals. That would suit him admirably; he did not want to draw attention to Elizabeth's situation in life. As he paused to consider that possibility, he remembered that such an eventuality was well-nigh impossible. Now that he had disabused her of the notion that her daughter would be mistress of Pemberley, his aunt would have no compunction in vilifying his future wife. Familial loyalty, certainly, would not prevent her, and he had failed to mollify her. Though she was but rarely in London, she had strong links to the leading society gossips, and it would not be long before his engagement was discussed in terms of a disgraceful entrapment.
And there were others here who would be only too happy to fan the flames. Darcy was not blind to Miss Bingley's aspirations; he had never intended to fulfil her ambition, but he had never taken the pains to undeceive her. Now, he knew, she would exact her revenge; her desire to deflect the gossip from her brother would add yet another motive. Bingley's uncharacteristic depression of late had excited a flurry of speculation that at times had reached painfully close to the truth. The ladies who had regarded him as a determined flirt were not pleased that he had discontinued his attentions entirely; they could no longer cherish the hope of helping him spend his five thousand a year, so they had sought solace in conjecturing as to the cause of his melancholy. Not for the first time, Darcy wondered whether he could have been wrong about Miss Bennet; he had always known her to be of a guarded demeanor, and it was not impossible that she had felt more strongly than he had realised. Observing her again last night, he had noticed a distinct difference in her; her countenance was serene as ever, but she was not the woman of whom he had once said, "she smiles too much." There had been about her an air of melancholy. He would have to remember to discuss the matter with Elizabeth; she would undoubtedly have some inkling of the state of her sister's emotions. If the two of them were indeed mutually attached, it would not do to keep them apart. Darcy smiled, thinking of the other evils he had once perceived in the match. His own affection had not been able to withstand them; for his friend, the disparity could not be nearly as great.
He put down his cup of tea, and made his way out of the premises of the club. There were many arrangements to be made for this evening. Elizabeth and her relations would be dining at his house. He thought with satisfaction of her relations. His experience of Mrs. Phillips and her erstwhile sister had prepared him for a very different brother from the pleasant and well-informed man he had found. To be sure, he had been caught rather unawares, but that was only to be expected, finding as he had his niece alone with two men he had not met. Afterward, Darcy had found him conversing easily with the colonel, and though he had not contributed to their discussion, he had heard the man's informed opinions with some astonishment. And his wife too had proved to be all that was gentile and elegant. To be sure, it would not do for Elizabeth to be seen at Gracechurch Street when she became Mrs. Darcy, but he could have no objection to her receiving such an aunt and uncle at their home. He decided that he would make an effort to improve his acquaintance with them tonight. It would comfort Elizabeth to know that he did not despise all her connections.
Part X
Charles, who was no stranger, was not in the least surprised at either her appearance or her tardiness. He greeted her listlessly, as he was wont to do these days. Caroline was dismayed at his behaviour; surely he could not continue to mourn that country girl. This was getting entirely too vexing. She was unfortunately still in London, and Caroline dreaded the possibility of their encountering one another. It would be the undoing of her dearest hopes. Though she habitually spoke of the matter as settled, Charles' reluctance to approach Miss Darcy was beginning to disconcert her. That Georgiana could be persuaded to accept her brother she did not doubt; she could only wish that Georgiana's brother would be likewise inclined toward matrimony.
Hoping to rouse he brother, she asked after the day's news. Her efforts were frustrated as he silently motioned toward the morning paper, which lay untouched. Caroline sighed, and turned to the only sections that could hold her interest, and started reading aloud of their mutual acquaintances, thinking that she might be able to elicit some comment from her brother.
"'Mr. and Mrs. Weston, of Highbury, and Mr. Churchill, of Enscombe, are pleased to announce that Mr. Frank Churchill, of Enscombe, is lately engaged to Miss Jane Fairfax, of Highbury.' Shocking! It is not two weeks since his aunt was buried, and already he has formed an attachment. I wonder who the lady is. Miss Fairfax..... Is that not the name of Mrs. Dixon's little friend? She was at Weymouth with them, and the Campbells. A very elegant creature; such a pity about her connections." Then, as a naughty thought occurred to her, "Charles, I do believe they have been secretly engaged these several months!"
"Thank you, Caroline, for your speculations."
Caroline did not comment on his words, although she could not but wonder on the change in his nature. Sarcasm did not come naturally to Charles. It never occurred to her that she might be enhancing his agony. Charles Bingley was in no humour to hear of the felicity of other men. Caroline persevered.
"Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, of Longbourne, Hertfordshire, would like to announce..." Caroline paused and looked up, apprehensive of Charles' response, but secretly relieved. This was the ideal solution. She bore Jane no ill will, and sincerely believed her to be a sweet girl. She wished her friend well settled with a man of her own station. She continued to read, as Charles refused to meet her eye. "the engagement of their daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet...." Eliza? Who would ever marry that little firebrand? She hastily continued. "to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley, Derbyshire."
Charles started at the news.
"Darcy is engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet? He has been very sly with us! I must wish him joy. She is a pleasant spirited lady; he is a lucky man to have won her affection."
He left the breakfast parlour and went to the study, to write a letter of congratulation to his friend. His pleasure at the news was entirely sincere; Darcy had been very good to him. As he wrote of Miss Elizabeth he could not but think of her sister; had circumstances been otherwise, he and his friend might now have been brothers. He sighed, and dismissed the thought. It was not to be; she had never loved him. For this information too he had his friend to thank. And yet, as he wrote, a flicker of hope was reborn in him. He and Darcy had long been close; after the marriage it was likely that he and Miss Bennet would be much thrown together. And given time, was it not possible that she might learn to love him? After all, she had always appeared to enjoy his company. He allowed himself to hope that her good will might someday give rise to a stronger feeling.
Caroline was left to contemplate the news alone. Mr. Darcy? It was inconceivable! And yet, she recollected his praise of her fine eyes. He had undoubtedly been taken by her. But that he would be so far taken in; was it to be borne? And how had such a thing happened? Had he returned to Hertfordshire? That could not be; he had been visiting his aunt, Lady Catherine. Eliza Bennet had obviously followed him. But that he should have succumbed to her artifice! Caroline shut her eyes in mortification as she realised that all of London society would be laughing at her. She had never obscured her intentions, hoping to secure Darcy with her deference. But she would not allow Eliza the satisfaction of triumphing at her expense. No, she could fight that woman, especially given her many handicaps. There was still time; the wedding could not be for some weeks. Eliza Darcy would certainly make a splash in London when she arrived for her first season; she, Caroline Bingley, would not have it otherwise.
Part XI
As he conversed with the Gardiners, Darcy had every cause for satisfaction. Mr. Gardiner was indeed everything he had hoped for, and he was beginning to realise that he might have been prejudiced in deeming such genteel people to be so entirely beneath him. But then, that was a lesson he had learnt already; he had after all overcome his doubts and made an offer to Elizabeth, and he had had no cause to regret his decision. He learnt that Mrs. Gardiner hailed from Lambton, a village in the close proximity of Pemberley, and they exchanged reminiscences of a particular tree by the smithy. As he glanced across the room, his contentment was enhanced. Georgiana and Elizabeth were intently conversing, as Miss Bennet looked on, silently. Darcy remembered his resolution on her behalf, and turned back to his sister, with happier thoughts. He noted in his sister's manner an ease of expression that was rarely present when she was in company. Yes, he had chosen well indeed.
Elizabeth, for her part, was extremely pleased with Miss Darcy. Wikham had prepared her for an entirely different sort of creature, but she perceived that the girl before her was nothing other than shy.
"Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you."
"And I about you. But it must be Georgiana to you. For we are to be sisters!"
This last sentiment was said in a gleeful manner of a child. Elizabeth was gratified at her enthusiasm.
"Then you must address me as Elizabeth, or Lizzy. That is how my sisters refer to me."
"I have always wanted a sister," Georgiana said, a little wistfully, "I have been blessed with the best of brothers, but he is almost the only family I have ever known."
Elizabeth was touched, and tried to cheer her up.
"You make me quite envious. I have no brothers, only four sisters."
"I shall be very pleased to have you as a sister. You have made my brother a very happy man; he can hardly speak enough of you. You must play and sing for us tonight. My brother says that he has rarely heard anything more beautiful."
"I must warn you that your brother has grossly exaggerated my talents, no doubt for some mischievous purpose of his own. From what I have heard of your proficiency I know my own efforts can merit little praise."
"Oh, no! My brother always speaks the absolute truth. Although he is sometimes a little too kind to me."
"An ideal elder brother, then."
"I could not wish for a better or a kinder one. And now that he will marry, and stay more often at Pemberley, my happiness is complete. You must be very happy; he loves you so very dearly."
Elizabeth blushed at Georgiana's innocent expressions. Did it really make her so very happy to be loved by such a man? She still did not know.
"Your brother, Georgiana, can be a very charming man."
She wondered at her statement. It was true enough. Why had she taken so long to admit it?
His sister eagerly assented.
"I am so glad that you are able to see him thus. There are some who think him reserved, and proud, but he is truly amiable. It pains me when he is thus misjudged. I am glad it did not prevent him from finding his happiness with you."
Looking away from her, Elizabeth made some slight reply as she pondered Georgiana's words. It was becoming more and more apparent to her that a great deal of what she had perceived as hauteur was in fact a reflection of Mr. Darcy's reserve. And yet, even now, there was in his manner a certain condescension that she could not be comfortable with. She resolved to talk to him openly at the earliest opportunity. It would not be right for them to marry if he remained entirely ignorant of her scruples.
Elizabeth turned back to Georgiana, and found two eager eyes regarding her with a bemused expression. She coloured slightly as she realised that her gaze had been locked all this while with the object of her musings. Turning back to Darcy, she found a slight smile gracing his features; he had evidently marked her embarrassment at being caught staring at him in the very manner she had often noted in him. He was really quite handsome when he smiled.... She checked herself. These thoughts would not do at all; she had to wonder whether he would even have her when he learnt of her questionable motives in accepting him. It was imperative that she communicated her concerns to him before the matter went very much further.
But there could be no occasion to make such a revelation to him this evening, for it would be most irregular for them to abandon the rest of the party together. For now, Elizabeth contented herself with her newly formed resolution, and hoped that her courage would not fail her when a suitable moment presented itself. For now, she allowed herself to experience something approaching satisfaction at her condition, though she remained not entirely without concern at the tenuous basis of her contentment. Soon afterwards, dinner was announced. Mr. Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm as he led the way to the dining room.