Section I, Next Section
Posted on Wednesday, 12 June 2002
"She's tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men."
Elizabeth heard this comment and was mortified. She sat frozen to her chair, doubted and was silent. How could he? Such words from a gentleman's lips?
But then a playful notion began to soothe her wounded heart. She rose from her seat and approached Mr. Darcy with,
"If you were to dance with me, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth laughed, "I would not be considered slighted." Then she looked at him archly, and waited for an answer.
Darcy would not at first catch her eye. Elizabeth continued to look at him and began to discover that he had a pleasing countenance, piercing eyes, and a stray curl over his forehead that would not seem to stay in place. He was very tall with a fine figure, and a pleasing mouth. But he seemed proud. He had both ignored her family and slighted them by turning and walking away in the middle of Bingley's introduction. She also knew how little likely it was that he would return any admiration that she should ever feel for him. After all, he had a wonderful estate in Derbyshire and ten thousand a year and she had nothing. She began to doubt the wisdom of her situation.
With these depressing thoughts she was no longer able to look at him, but glanced down at her feet with a blush on her cheeks, confused, and wishing the ground would open and swallow her up. His silence increased her embarrassment, yet she would not move, her own pride forbade it. She felt the weight of his gaze upon her.
When Darcy saw her rise from her chair after Bingley had walked away, he had this feeling that perhaps Miss Bennet had overheard his remark. He felt uncomfortable with the idea of her passing by him with a sneer on her face to share his comment with her friends, but it could not be helped. It seemed that Meryton did not agree with him and that he did not agree with Meryton. But nothing in his seven and twenty years prepared him for the experience which followed when, instead of passing by him, Miss Bennet stopped in front of him, and with an impertinent look, suggested that if he were to dance with her, she would no longer be slighted.
Darcy did not know whether to break out laughing or to be offended that this country nobody would dare speak to him. Elizabeth continued to look at him and Darcy began to be unsure of where to cast his eyes - growing quite uncomfortable. Then Darcy met her glance.
She was right. She was beautiful and he should have allowed Bingley's partner, her sister, to introduce them. That will not matter now. He looked into her eyes, so dark, beautiful, and fine, and was shocked to discover a scared little girl. He wanted to know more about this young woman who had the courage and impertinence to address him and innocently reveal so much about herself through those eyes.
With a formal bow, Darcy confessed to her- "You are right, Miss Bennet. I would be honored if you would dance the next two with me."
Elizabeth answered with a curtsey and a whispered "Thank you."
Mr. Darcy walked away.
Elizabeth returned to her seat. That seat where it all began. He had asked her to dance so gently, so softly, so kindly. This is not the manner of one who is proud. 'What have I done?' she asked herself
I do not dare leave my seat, I do not. Has my mother seen us talking? The proud Mr. Darcy. Ill-favored indeed. I cannot bear to hear it. What if he should come to claim my hand for the dance while I am near her? She will pair me off with him immediately. My mother will speak of my impending marriage to Mrs. Phillips, who will spread it all around Meryton. He will hate me. I could not bear it. Look! There is Mr. Darcy again. Why is he coming over here? Oh yes, I forgot. Does he really mean to dance with me? Have not I punished us both enough for one evening?
There she is, thought Darcy. I must see her some more. Why am I grateful that I was so rude to her? She must be an extraordinary young woman. Most women throw themselves at me. Miss Bennet seems only to be concerned with how I treat her. And I admit that I treated her poorly. What an impudent dog I was, to say such things and allow them to be overheard. What was I thinking? Was that a lavender scent about her? And those dark eyes...I shall never forget that scent. What am I thinking now? She cannot mean anything to me. Maybe she is thirsty. I can take her some refreshment while we wait for the dance. Maybe I can talk to her.
"Miss Bennet, I thought perhaps you might like some refreshment?"
"Thank you, sir. I am thirsty. This is kind of you."
"Think nothing of it. I must have my dance partner refreshed and lively." She does not smile. She is angry with me. I have forced myself upon her.
"Miss Bennet, please forgive me. You are treating with kindness the uncivil remark I made when in fact I deserve your disapprobation. I have been called proud, but tonight I feel exceedingly shy. I made my comment to Bingley to avoid meeting two new people: you and your sister, Miss Jane. I did not know what to say to either of you. I have wounded your feelings and insulted you and your position in Meryton society. I offer no excuse. You must despise me. I release you from our engagement - you do not have to dance with me."
With that said, he began to turn on his heel to walk away from her, into the crowd.
If he walks away from me now, I shall never see him again. Now that the worst is over, is this what I truly want?
"Mr. Darcy. Please wait!" He stopped and turned to face her.
"Mr. Darcy, I was hurt and offended by your words. I felt that the only way to salvage my own pride would be to act as I have done, to violate all sense of reason and propriety, and ask you to dance with me. My approaching you was unladylike and outside the bounds of decorum and I apologize. I know that it is you who do not wish to dance with me, and I fear that my behavior has offended and embarrassed you. Please forgive me."
Elizabeth could not meet his gaze. She looked nervously at her intertwined fingers. She felt him looking at her. His gaze felt like a caress. It was soothing, but so strange. What does he think of me?
The music began again and the dance was forming. It was to have been their dance. Darcy took a last swallow of his punch and set his glass down on a table near her chair. Elizabeth remained in her seat, her face glowing from the embarrassment which colored her cheeks.
Why does he not say something?
Why does she not look at me? I will not leave her.
"Miss Bennet, will you do me the great honor of dancing with me? We have made a rough start of it. I hope we have cleared the air between us. Please...please dance with me."
Why will she not look at me? Those eyes. She must despise me. I will never forget that scent.
Elizabeth continued to stare at her hands.
He is speaking. I hear him asking me to dance again. "Please, please," he says. Oh, how I want to.
Gaining courage, Elizabeth looked upwards to Mr. Darcy and replied to his request archly, "Mr. Darcy, if you are willing to tarnish your reputation by dancing with me, I would be honored."
Elizabeth could not understand why Darcy looked so visibly relieved. What could he mean by it?
Darcy smiled to himself. We are on an equal footing again. I did not think she would agree. Look, she is biting her lip. Stop staring at her!
With a smile, Darcy extended his hand to her. Slowly Elizabeth reached up with hers, thinking nothing more of it than as something which occurred each time she agreed to dance with a gentleman. When asked, she would tell you she had her glove on, as all young ladies would. But the burning sensation she felt from his touch was like the feeling of hot tea on a cold morning - a small hesitation, then the satisfaction of a long thirst fulfilled; and for a brief moment, the music and the dancing almost came to a stop, the room grew quiet and her breath caught in her throat. Fortunately for Elizabeth, her hand was firmly in his grasp. But the heat from his touch did not diminish.
"Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes, Miss Bennet"
"Oh, nothing."
Posted on Wednesday, 12 June 2002
Mr. Bennet was asleep in his chair, a book forgotten on his lap, when the family returned home from the ball. Mrs. Bennet woke him with,
"Mr. Bennet, what a lovely ball we had. You should have been there. Jane was so admired and everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful and actually danced with her twice, and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. He is so handsome and his sisters are such charming women. He brought a friend with him, a Mr. Darcy, who has a grand estate in Derbyshire with a clear ten thousand a year and maybe more. He seems very proud and mighty, but he is more handsome than Mr. Bingley. He even danced once with Lizzy, besides Mr. Bingley's two sisters."
"Well, Lizzy, how do you like this Mr. Darcy? Was he so very handsome as your mother says? Will he be visiting us at Longbourn soon?" Mr. Bennet asked with a chuckle. Mr. Bennet enjoyed teasing his second daughter, his acknowledged favorite.
Elizabeth could not hide a blush as she replied, "Oh, papa. He is handsome and appears to me to be a pleasing young man."
When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, Jane could speak of Mr. Bingley.
"He is just what a young man ought to be ought be: sensible, good humored, lively; and he has such happy manners.
And Elizabeth added, "And he is also handsome, which a young man ought likewise to be."
"I could not help but notice that you spent some time with Mr. Darcy. Tell me, what do you really think of him?"
"Jane, Mr. Bingley invited Mr. Darcy to dance with me, and offered to arrange an introduction between Mr. Darcy and myself. You will never believe it! Mr. Darcy not only refused, but said that he was not interested in me because I only looked just tolerable, and had been slighted by other men because I had to sit out two dances."
"Lizzy, I cannot believe he would say such a thing! And in your hearing, too! But you danced with him. What happened?"
"At first I was angry and hurt. In some ways I still am. But I started to feel impertinent, and I did not care for his opinion, so I went over to Mr. Darcy and told him that if he danced with me I would not be slighted."
"You did not!"
"Yes, I did. And think ill of me if you will."
"I can never think ill of you, Lizzy."
"So he asked me to dance, and I agreed. Then he walked off. Oh, Jane, I began to feel terrible, like I had done this horrible thing. I was dreading his return. But he came back, and he brought me some punch, for which I was indeed grateful. He apologized for what he had said and attributed it to his shyness. He did not know what he would say to either you or I, as Bingley was going to have you introduce us. He released me from our engagement to dance.
"But Lizzy..."
"Wait, Jane. He was about to turn away and leave when I asked him to stay and I apologized for my impropriety and indecorum in approaching him in the first place. He just looked at me. Then he asked me to dance again. And I agreed."
"It seems like he is not so full of pride and conceit as he appeared to be during our introduction, though I always hoped it would be so. He has such a pleasing countenance."
"I know, Jane, he does. And he is so gentle. He reached out his hand to me when it was time to form up for the dance. The very moment I touched his hand, I was filled with a burning sensation and the whole room seemed to stop moving, for just an instant. As we went down the dance, every time he touched me, it was pretty much the same. I have never felt that way before. I admit that I liked it very much."
"Oh Lizzy, you are in love with him!"
"How can I be in love? I don't even know his name."
"Yes, but you know his heart, and he obviously knows yours."
"Jane, I just met him at an assembly. The only thing I know is that he was rude and then he apologized and then we danced. I thought it would be a punishment. I never imagined he would actually ask me to dance. I never imagined anything."
A week after the Meryton assembly, Sir William Lucas invited the principal inhabitants of the Meryton neighborhood to Lucas Lodge for an evening of entertainment. Amongst the visitors were the residents of both Longbourn and Netherfield.
The drawing room was small for the number of people Sir William had gathered together, for he had invited many of the officers of Colonel Forster's regiment. Mary Bennet was playing on the pianoforte. The younger Bennets, for they were all out, and the young Lucases were amusing themselves noisily with cards.
It was a bit loud to suit Darcy's taste for an evening engagement. He had not wanted to come. Why should he? He was visiting Bingley for a while, then he would return to Pemberley. There was nothing here for him. This is what he told himself. But the truth of the matter was that there was here gathered a pair of fine eyes that had challenged him. In fact, these eyes seemed to command most of his attention, lately. He recalled the exact moment when her hand fell into his. There were not words to describe the feeling other than to call it a dream. Going down the dance with her was a dream. The truth be told, this was why he was here. And there she was, talking with Jane and Bingley on the other side of the room.
Colonel and Mrs. Forster were standing behind Mr. Darcy, when Caroline Bingley assaulted him with, "I can guess the subject of your reverie."
At this moment, Elizabeth decided to leave Jane and Bingley alone, giving them privacy in a crowded room. She saw the Colonel standing behind Mr. Darcy, and decided to tease him about giving a ball next month. Accordingly, she started to walk the short distance across the room.
"I should imagine not," replied Darcy
"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner - in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed. The insipidity, and yet the noise - the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"
Elizabeth had now reached the Colonel and was standing behind Mr. Darcy, between the Colonel and his wife. She did admit to herself that part of her reason for being there was to see how she felt being so close to Mr. Darcy. She did feel something. She was flushed and hot. She knew she could no longer speak to the Colonel. She could hear Miss Bingley saying something to Mr. Darcy.
Darcy watched Elizabeth walk across the room. For a moment, he had hoped she was coming to talk to him, but of course, she would not approach him. He must find a way to go to her. For a moment, their eyes met. She did not immediately turn away. She looks so innocent. Those eyes. I will never forget that scent.
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged." Darcy was trying to get rid of Miss Bingley so he could concentrate on Elizabeth.
Elizabeth could hear what he was saying to Miss Bingley. She blushed at the consciousness that she was intruding on their private conversation. But she was drawn to his voice and could not move away, like a moth to flame.
"I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow." There, I have made my confession. I will no longer pretend to myself that I am not attracted to her.
"And to which lady goes the credit for inspiring such reflections?" Miss Bingley knew it must be herself, of course.
Elizabeth was all attention now. What would he say?
I know she is standing right behind me. She believes that I think she is talking to the Forsters, but I know she must be listening to me.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet"
Elizabeth felt her knees go weak. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Had he really said her name? She forgot all about Colonel Forster and the ball.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Miss Bingley echoed. "I am all astonishment." And in a jealous rage, she brushed past Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had regained enough of her composure to feel that she must remove herself from Darcy's presence. Before she could, though, he turned to face her.
"Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth turned back. She realized she had been holding her breath.
"Mr. Darcy."
"It is a pleasure to see you again. May I enquire after the health of you and your family?"
"I..I thank you. We are all very well. And...And you, sir, how are you?" Why can I not speak plainly? What spell does he hold over me?
"I am fine, thank you."
"It is fine weather we are having." Oh, please, can you not think of something better to say to her?
"Indeed it is, sir."
"Do you enjoy taking walks about in the country side?"
"I do, sir. I enjoy a ramble in the woods and fields almost daily. My favorite walk is to Oakham Mount. Have you ever been there? The sunrise there is beautiful." Oh Lizzy, he will think you are throwing yourself at him.
"I have never been to Oakham Mount." But I will be going there from now on.
"Do you, sir, enjoy taking walks?"
"I mostly ride for my exercise. I confess that I do enjoy going out from Netherfield in the mornings, while the air is still quiet and refreshing and most people are not yet up."
"Yes, that is my favorite time of day."
Elizabeth felt herself becoming confused and started to color. She could no longer look at him. She had just revealed more about herself than she had ever done to any gentleman. It was frightening. What she felt in her heart was also frightening. Were these feelings for him? Was Jane right? All she could remember was his touch.
They were standing close enough that Darcy could renew his memory of her lavender scent. It held no special significance for him, other than for her. And with her, it was intoxicating. But why could she no longer look at him? What had he said?
"Mr. Darcy, if you will excuse me."
He bowed to her, as she turned and left him wondering about the view from Oakham Mount.
Posted on Monday, 17 June 2002
My Dear Friend, --"If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.
- Yours
Caroline Bingley"
"Can I have the carriage?" asked Jane of her father.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night," her mother countered.
Her mother's hopes were answered.
My Dearest Lizzy, -"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones - therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me - and, excepting a sore-throat and a headache, there is not much the matter with me. - Yours, &c.
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious for Jane, knew that Jane would want a visit from her. But she also knew that Mr. Darcy was there. The thought of meeting him again made her blush. She was unsure of her feelings towards him, or of what she should allow those feelings to be. 'How can he possibly return my regard,' was a question often on her mind. At last, her affection for Jane overcame her anxiety of seeing Mr. Darcy, and so Elizabeth was determined to go to her. She declared her resolution:
"Mama, I must go visit Jane at Netherfield. I know she would want me to go to her."
"How can you be so silly, " cried her mother, "as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."
"I shall be very fit to see Jane - which is all I want."
"Is this a hint for me to send for the horses, Lizzy?" asked her father.
"No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner."
Elizabeth walked on towards Netherfield, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity. The time passed quickly for her. Her thoughts were never far from that first meeting with Mr. Darcy when she would enter Netherfield. It would be soon now, for at last she found herself within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
Walking around a small stand of trees, she was startled to come across Mr. Darcy, who saw her first:
"Miss Bennet."
"Mr. Darcy."
For a brief moment there was an embarrassing silence. Perhaps she thought to run into him at Oakham Mount, had the weather permitted, but not on the grounds at Netherfield.
"I am come to inquire after my sister, Jane."
"On foot, and all alone?"
"As you see, though I do not mind the exercise and did not feel at all lonely; solitary walks are one of my greatest sources of relief." She paused, "Would you be so kind as to take me to her?"
"Yes, of course."
Elizabeth was feeling cross. This is not the manner of greeting that she expected to receive from Mr. Darcy on their first meeting at Netherfield. But perhaps he was just as shocked by their sudden recontre as she was, and was not himself, but it pained her. She could only hope.
As they entered the hall and were announced by the servant, she was immediately accosted by Miss Bingley.
"Ah, Miss Eliza," crowed Miss Bingley, " what brings you to Netherfield? Hopefully not to see your sister. She is sick with a trifling cold and certainly does not require you to be scampering about the countryside to visit her."
"Yes, Miss Bingley, I am come to visit her."
"Well, we are city folk and I am afraid not quite as brave as you are," mocked Miss Bingley.
"Please tell me, Miss Bingley, how is Jane this morning?"
Her inquiries after Jane were not favorably answered. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately.
When Bingley heard she was at Netherfield, he went up to greet her, to extend his warmest wishes for Miss Bennet's speedy recovery and to offer an invitation for her to remain at Netherfield until Miss Bennet was quite recovered. Elizabeth thanked him very sincerely. A servant was dispatched to Longbourn to inform her mother of her stay and to bring back a supply of clothes.
After dinner, when Elizabeth had returned to Jane's room, the following conversation could be heard in the drawing room at Netherfield:
"Her manners are very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she has no conversation, no style, no taste, and no beauty."
"She has, in short, nothing to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild." A young woman started laughing.
"She did, indeed. I could hardly keep my countenance. Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy."
"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."
"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside," A peel of female laughter filled the room
"That is capital."
"If they had uncles enough to fill all of Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."
"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy. It is not fair, Elizabeth. Your fine eyes. I will never forget that scent. I could love you. You are a gentleman's daughter. But your other connections. Oh, what do I do?
Miss Bingley approached Darcy with a whisper, "I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes?"
"Not at all, they were brightened by the exercise." Darcy gazed out the window, his thoughts wandering around the second floor of Netherfield Park.
The following night after dinner, while the ladies awaited the gentleman in the music room, Elizabeth was turning through Mr. Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and was halted in her progress by the following:
"Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth."
Elizabeth was unable to account for the reason as to why this particular passage caught her attention; nor had she noticed when the gentlemen had entered the room, until she heard:
"Miss Eliza Bennet, would you care to join us at loo," asked Miss Bingley, none too kindly.
"No, I would prefer to read."
"You prefer reading to cards, how singular. Miss Bennet is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything frivolous." Fine eyes, indeed. Mr. Darcy, what do you see in her?
"I enjoy many things, Miss Bingley, some of which, perhaps, may be considered frivolous."
"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley; "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart. Elizabeth also noticed that she had gained the attention of Mr. Darcy. While he did not speak to her, he watched her every move and listened carefully to her every speech. At first, this was slightly unnerving to her, but then she recalled his touch, and felt gratified by his attention. She only wished he would talk to her. But then, perhaps he was not comfortable in the presence of Miss Bingley. She certainly was not.
A change was soon made in their party. Jane was to leave her room for awhile that evening. Elizabeth went to help her down to the drawing room. Mr. Bingley insisted that she sit near the fire, and had a servant build it higher so that she would not suffer from the change of room. Elizabeth removed to a far corner of the drawing room. Mr. Bingley engaged himself completely with Miss Bennet, and Miss Bingley was observing Mr. Darcy writing a letter to his sister. Elizabeth wondered about Mr. Darcy. She had been here two days now and he had made no attempt to talk to her. Two days to wonder at what she believed they had shared, to wonder if a kind of intimacy had been established between them. Should I feel hurt by his apparent lack of attention to me, or should I really be asking: Why do I expect him to return my regard at all? I am a nobody to him. But I thought, I so much believed, I so much hoped, that he felt the same as I had when we touched.
The next morning found Elizabeth walking alone in the pleasure garden. Darcy had spied her there from an upper window and was determined to meet her. She has been two days at Netherfield and I have not spoken ten words to her since her arrival. What must she think of me now? But I do not seem to know what to say, so I feel contented just to look at her.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet, how are you?"
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy, I am a little tired. It is draining spending much of the night with Jane. But I would do anything for her. We hope to return to Longbourn soon and I shall be able to recover my strength then."
"I am sorry to hear you are not well. May I ask if there is anything I can do to help you?"
"Mr. Darcy, you are very kind, but I do not possibly know what you could do for me. Perhaps you would walk with me for a few minutes?"
"I would be delighted."
He offered her his arm. She hesitated for a moment before taking it. And there it was, that warm feeling again. She felt a shiver and pulled her shawl closer. Never had she been affected this way by a gentleman. She could only attribute it to love. What was it that Juliet had said to Romeo?:
"But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth."
"Miss Bennet, if I am asking too much,..."
Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat.
"...but would you be willing to tell me about your family?"
Is that what I really wanted to hear? What was I expecting?
"Certainly, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth paused for a breath. "You have met my eldest sister Jane. I have three younger sisters: Mary, Catherine and Lydia. You may have met my mother at the assembly?" She glanced at him with her eyebrows raised.
"Yes, well, I..."
Elizabeth laughed. "Do not worry yourself, Mr. Darcy, you will perhaps have occasion to meet my parents some other day. My father's time is spent laughing at the ridiculous behavior he observes in people," Elizabeth continued, "and to retreat to his library the rest of the time. It seems that my mother's business is to marry off her daughters."
Is this some sort of mercenary mother? thought Darcy. From what I have seen of Jane and Elizabeth I really cannot think that of them. No, it cannot be.
"But I am not very cooperative. I am determined to marry only for affection, for the deepest kind of love, without regard to money, position or to anything else. My father's estate is entailed away from us in favor of heirs-male. So we are too poor to expect to make good matches. No Mr. Darcy, I am afraid I will disappoint my mother."
Well, Darcy, we now come to the point, do we not? You have your family and position in society to think about, or you can have Miss Bennet to think about. Which will it be?
By now they had approached the front of the house again. They ascended the stairs and parted in the hall. Elizabeth paused and watched him walk away for a moment before climbing the stairs to Jane's room. He walked to a window in the drawing room to watch a pony straining against its reins, and wondered if he could get beyond his own pride so that he would be free to love Elizabeth the way he knew she should be loved, the way he wanted to love her.
Posted on Monday, 17 June 2002
Jane and Elizabeth were safely ensconced back at Longbourn. Over breakfast, their father read a tedious letter from his cousin, a Mr. Collins, who, next in the entail of Longbourn, had insisted on coming to visit.
"...I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
"At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peacemaking gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter.
Mr. Collins arrived at four o'clock, precisely, as anticipated by the punctuality expected of him due to his being a clergyman, and was welcomed into the family in time for dinner. If he was not the future heir of Longbourn, he would have gratified Mrs. Bennet by his admiration of nearly everything he saw in the house. As it was, she was horrified to think that he was merely taking inventory of his own future house, contents and grounds. She thought to herself that she might as well give him the keys to the pantry so he could count the silver to make sure there were no missing pieces. Mr. Collins assured them that his noble patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh, would not be ashamed to eat in their dining room, and that the table and chairs, though not quite matching and somewhat rustic, were firm and well built. Of course, their home was nothing compared to Rosings Park, the residence of Lady Catherine De Bourgh, but then it could not be expected to be so. After all, the chimney piece in that home cost £800 alone and was hand carved, and the chimney piece in their drawing room was not, but was befitting the humble abode that Longbourn certainly was.
After dinner, while sitting at tea, Mr. Collins complimented Mrs. Bennet on having such a fine family of daughters, and that their beauty far exceeded the reports that had reached him at his humble parsonage, and that he was sure that she would soon see them all well disposed of in marriage. Mrs. Bennet would have been happier if she could have shared in his confidence. Since Jane was sixteen, she had been trying to get a daughter married, and seven years later, it had all come to nothing. Elizabeth was grateful that they were not part of the entail.
The next morning, Mr. Collins broke the good news to Mrs. Bennet. He had come to Longbourn with the express intention of choosing a wife from among her daughters, and due to seniority and beauty, had decided upon Jane.
"I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but I must tell you that I expect that Jane will very soon become engaged." Should I recommend Elizabeth? Mr. Darcy did dance with her at the last assembly. But, no, I must not take that chance.
"But as for Elizabeth and my younger girls, I know of no prepossession."
And this is how Elizabeth was chosen to be the future mistress of Hunsford Parsonage. Of course, she did not yet know of her good fortune.
Although Mr. Bennet was a student of the absurd and ridiculous in people, there was only so much of it he could endure. So his civility was quick in inviting Mr. Collins to enjoy a walk into Meryton with his daughters. Mr. Collins had been following Mr. Bennet into his library daily, and while pretending to read, spent most of his time talking, which was putting Mr. Bennet into an ill humor, who was used to enjoying peace, leisure and tranquility in that room. As Mr. Collins was better suited for walking than reading, he readily agreed to the plan. Indeed, it would be a good opportunity to talk to his wife, well, his future wife, and she would clearly want to get to know him better. He intended to propose to Elizabeth very soon. He would show her every attention and by then she would be expecting his addresses, and receive them properly as any young lady would.
It was the intention of this small party to call at Mrs. Philips's home, an aunt to the girls and quite a favorite of late with the younger ones. Mr. Philips had been calling on the officers of the regiment quartered at Meryton, and through him the younger Bennets had become acquainted with several of them and had were now on friendly terms with some two or three of the gentleman. While walking through the village, they were met by an officer of their acquaintance with a handsome stranger who they had never met before.
"Good morning to you, ladies," cried Mr. Denny.
"Good morning to you."
"Let me introduce you to my friend, Mr. Wickham" Wickham made a low bow to them. He quickly looked them over. Catching Elizabeth's eye he smiled and then turned to look at Denny.
Elizabeth was impressed with this stranger, this Mr. Wickham. He was handsome, had a fine figure, and appeared quite pleasant. There was something open and pleasing about him, and he entered into conversation with them so easily which showed his fine manners and good breeding. She could not help comparing him to Mr. Darcy and the reticence he showed in speaking to her during much of her time at Netherfield.
"Will you be long in Meryton?" asked Elizabeth.
"I am happy to say that I will be here all winter. I have accepted a commission in Colonel Forster's regiment."
One of the younger girls asked him if he would be at the party at Mrs. Philips's home that night. All the other officers would be. Mr. Wickham said that he would be there if he received a proper invitation, but as for now, he would not be attending. Since they were on their way to visit their aunt, Elizabeth determined that Mr. Wickham would receive a proper invitation to the party.
It was at this moment that Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy came riding by. Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry, and that unbidden question arose again: 'Does he return my regard?' She could not tell. She dared not hope. She remembered his touch. He looked so handsome sitting on his black horse. She began to feel embarrassed that she had spoken to Mr. Wickham at all.
They had been on their way to Longbourn to inquire after Jane's health. Mr. Darcy looked as if he were about to speak to Elizabeth. But then Jane interrupted him by introducing Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham. Darcy could hardly believe his ears. Wickham! Here in Hertfordshire? Why must their paths cross yet again. What was that Miss Bennet was saying, that Wickham was to be in the country all winter, that he had taken a commission in the corps? Darcy wondered how long that would last. He thought back to Ramsgate last summer. It seemed like yesterday. The insult to his sister was not to be forgiven or forgotten! He dug his heels into the side of his mount and rode on.
Elizabeth had been waiting for the sound of his voice. Instead she heard Jane's. What poor timing. Elizabeth clung to every type of notice that she received from Mr. Darcy. But then the strangest thing occurred, instead of accepting the introduction to Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy turned red and rode on without saying another word, either to her or anybody else. She looked at Mr. Wickham. He seemed a bit pale and shaken. Did these two know each other in some manner? What could it mean? She longed to know. She did know one thing, though, and that it was first Jane, and now Mr. Wickham, that had interrupted her ability to further her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.
'Acquaintance' seemed like such a cold word. She thought more of him than that. She wanted to think of him as a friend. But to be a friend, was there not some type of return affection required? No matter, she thought, she would admire him from a distance and accept what attention of his that he would give her.
Fortunately for the female company in attendance, Mr. Wickham received and accepted the invitation to the Philips's party. The Bennet girls and Mr. Collins arrived shortly before the gentleman removed to the drawing room, and as they did, Mr. Wickham glanced around the room and noticed Elizabeth. To the disappointment of many females present, he took a seat opposite to her. Elizabeth was not too sure she was happy about this. Her thoughts immediately went to Mr. Darcy. After a period of chatting that gradually turned itself from the weather to the neighborhood to Netherfield and its occupants, Mr. Wickham continued with,
"Will Mr. Darcy's stay in the country be long?"
"I do not know. I have not heard of his plans." I never thought of that. I hope he is not leaving.
Not willing to let this interesting topic drop, she added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand." That is alarming. That is really all I do know about him.
"Yes, his estate there is a noble one. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself - for I have been connected with his family from my infancy."
So they are acquainted! Elizabeth looked quite surprised.
"You may well be surprised, after seeing the cold manner of our greeting this morning. So, are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"
"I am a little." What is he up to? This is strange talk for a first acquaintance. I wonder what he really thinks of Mr. Darcy. Let me see. "I have spent three days in the same house with him. He can be cold and a little rude, if he is not careful." She was just able to hide a smile at this thought. She also remembered his touch with a quiet sigh.
"I have no right to give my opinion as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish - and perhaps you would not express it anywhere else. Here you are in your own family."
"I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighborhood."
"We are not on friendly terms, Miss Bennet. I suffered great ill-usage and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. I cannot be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behavior to myself has been scandalous; but I believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."
Elizabeth was increasingly interested, but delicacy prevented further enquiry on her part, and Mr. Wickham had begun to speak on more general topics such as Meryton, the neighborhood and the society, appearing highly pleased with all he had seen.
"It was the prospect of constant society," he added, "and good society which was my chief inducement to enter the corps. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession - I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."
"Indeed!"
"Yes - the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and excessively attached to me. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell vacant, it was given elsewhere."
"Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; "but how could that be? - How could his will be disregarded? - Why did you not seek legal redress?" I refuse to believe this of Mr. Darcy. This cannot be true. His behavior towards me, and this behavior towards Wickham cannot come from the same man.
"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."
"This is quite shocking. What can have been his motive to behave so cruelly?"
"A thorough, determined dislike of me - a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood - the sort of preference which was often given me."
"Mr. Wickham, you bear this trial with greater forbearance than I could ever show. I am very sorry for you."
"I have not an uncheerful disposition. I am pleased with my commission in the corps. My fellow officers are good men and the society of Meryton is very pleasing."
At that moment, Mr. Wickham was claimed by one of the younger Bennets for a small ball being formed at one end of the drawing room, and Elizabeth was left to ponder on the words Mr. Wickham had told her. Though she felt a little unsure of herself, she did believe that it would eventually be shown that Mr. Darcy was at no fault at all in this matter. Mr. Wickham was indelicate in putting himself forward as he did to a complete stranger. He seemed just too pleased with everything and everybody.
When they returned home, Elizabeth had the chance to spend one-half hour with Jane and related to Miss Bennet her conversation with Mr. Wickham. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; - she knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could do such a thing, and yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having really endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident whatever could not be otherwise explained.
"They have both," said she, "been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them without actual blame on either side."
"But Jane," said Elizabeth, "do you not think it strange that Mr. Wickham should explain all his affairs with Mr. Darcy to me, a complete stranger? We had been introduced but that very morning. Something is wrong, Jane. Mr. Darcy's treatment of me has been so kind. He has warmed my heart on every occasion we have spent together. I refuse to believe he could have treated Mr. Wickham in so infamous a manner as this."
"Lizzy, I believe you like Mr. Darcy."
"Jane, I confess that I do. I do like Mr. Darcy very much."
Posted on Friday, 21 June 2002
"Girls, girls, Mr. Collins, we have all been invited to a ball at Netherfield," Mrs. Bennet went shrieking through the house. Mr. Bennet went straight for his library. All the girls were sitting around the table in the drawing room. Mr. Collins was admiring their work as well as the untrained eye could do. He was particularly taken with Elizabeth's efforts, but she refused to be moved by his flattery.
"Mr. Collins, do you think it appropriate for you to dance, would Lady Catherine approve?" asked Elizabeth in playful manner, giving him more attention than she was wont to do.
"I think that a ball given by respectable people, for respectable people, has not a tendency towards evil, and I am so far inclined to dance that I will take this opportunity to ask you, fair cousin Elizabeth, for the first two dances." His greasy hair shined in the candlelight. Mr. Collins had a toothy, crooked smile that seemed more exaggerated than usual at just this moment. Elizabeth felt completely taken in. She had meant to dance those very dances with Mr. Darcy. She could do nothing but accept as gracefully as possible. It now struck her that perhaps she had been chosen, from amongst her sisters, to be the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and to assist to form a quadrille table at Rosings in the absence of more eligible visitors. She felt her stomach churn and her throat began to burn. She quitted the table and went up to her room.
Finally, it was the day of the Netherfield ball: Beautiful, sunny and warm. For some days now it had been too cold to go out, but today Elizabeth was going to take her favorite walk to Oakham Mount, for she had much to think of. To be out of doors was to her like taking a weight off of her shoulders. She could not endure the confinement of her home for too long. The noise of her younger sisters and the disruptions of her mother seemed relentless. Occasionally she could sit for half an hour with her father in his library, but inevitably her mother would call for her and she would be thrown out into the turmoil once again. This morning she would escape and wander in her countryside.
Oakham Mount was really an accident of nature on an otherwise flat plain of ground. From this imminence a person could see for miles in any direction, and view all the farms with their patchwork patterns. Carriages would drive by on the roads, riders could be seen, yet it all seemed so distant. There was no road to Oakham Mount, only a horse trail and a path through the woods. At the top of the Mount, off the horse trail, there was a large, flat stone that she would sit on and watch the goings on below her and think about her life. Today, she walked the path to the Mount instead of by way of the faster horse trail. In a little under an hour she was there, reflecting quietly on all her dealings with Mr. Darcy.
It was rare to meet with anyone while on her rambles here, so it was with some surprise that her reverie was broken by the sound of a rider. She was even more surprised when she found that rider to be the object of her reverie, for it was no one other than Mr. Darcy himself. She imagined that the day would eventually come when they would meet here. She had told him that this was her favorite walk. The only reason she had not been here before had been the weather. Her stomach began to flutter and her breathing became more rapid.
"Hello, Mr. Darcy," she said cheerfully.
"Good morning, Miss Bennet. I hope I am not intruding on your privacy."
"You are welcome. Are you well this morning?"
"I am fine thank you. I can see that you are well. How is your family? Is your sister still recovering?"
"Yes, thank you. How is every one at Netherfield?"
"They are fine. I find its best to leave them by themselves from time to time."
"I understand perfectly, Mr. Darcy, and find myself requiring an escape now and then. This is the first time in quite awhile that I have been able to venture forth, and I am exceedingly grateful for the opportunity."
"I have been able to do a little riding, and have found myself here at Oakham Mount, by your recommendation, more than once."
Elizabeth colored at the recollection of that conversation.
"I am glad you like it."
"May I join you on your stone?"
"Please do."
Darcy tied his horse up to a small tree just off the path and came and sat beside Elizabeth on the stone, perhaps just a little nearer to her than necessary. Elizabeth did not shy away.
Mr. Darcy began, "Do you often walk into Meryton?"
"Yes, we were going to visit our aunt when you came upon us the other day." Elizabeth hesitated. She did not want to offend him, but wanted to talk to him about Wickham. "We were just forming a new acquaintance."
"Mr. Wickham," spat Darcy.
Elizabeth gave a start from the vehemence of his response.
"I apologize, Miss Bennet. Perhaps I should be going."
"Mr. Darcy, I must be honest with you." She continued quickly, "That same evening I met Mr. Wickham again. He was at a party at my aunt Philips's. I spent some time in his company and he told me some rather terrible things about you."
Darcy began to stand up.
"Please, Mr. Darcy! I did not believe him!"
Darcy sat back down. He looked at Elizabeth and was silent for a few minutes. The air was still, and nature seemed to be lost in thought just as much as Darcy appeared to be. Elizabeth was very uncomfortable, but was not going to interrupt their silence. Finally, he began:
"Let me tell you about Mr. Wickham. Mr. Wickham is the son of my late father's steward, an excellent man who had the management of all the Pemberley properties. When he died, my father took care of George Wickham at school and at Cambridge. We attended both together. It was not too long before I discovered Wickham's propensity for drink, gambling and lewd behavior. He was careful not to show this behavior to his best friend, of course. Living with him at school was painful. I stayed away from our room as much as possible to avoid the men and women he brought to our dwelling. He continually begged money from me to cover his debts of honor. For the sake of my father's opinion of him, I gave in to his requests. I felt I had no choice. I was afraid that even my own father would believe Wickham's lies over my own truths if it came down to a confrontation between us. My father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow - and if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of 1,000 pounds. Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere - but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman; the business was therefore settled - he resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return £3,000. All connection between us seemed dissolved."
"Mr. Darcy..." She extended her hand and touched his arm with her middle and ring fingers, but quickly pulled back again. He smiled at her with a soft, hurtful expression that told her of the pain her was feeling at communicating this to her.
"Miss Bennet," he said softly, "allow me to continue."
Darcy proceeded with his story. "In town I believe he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretense, and being now free from all restraint, with £4,000, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study and was absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him the living in question - of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. You can hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty or every repetition of it."
"Indeed, I do not, sir"
"I will now mention a circumstance I would wish to forget and which I have not unfolded to any other human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy."
"Mr. Darcy, is it appropriate for you to be telling me this secret, then, if it has not been fit for other human ears?"
With a look of desperation he said, "Elizabeth, I must have your good opinion. I cannot have you think ill of me. Please allow me to tell you these things."
When Elizabeth was very young, she was frightened by the winter storms that would lash against their home from time to time, and she would wake up crying in her bed. Not surprisingly, it was her father, not her mother, who came to her in those cold nights to comfort her. He would place his candle on her night stand, sit on the edge of her bed, and after tucking her in warmly into the blankets she had kicked off, he would gently stroke her cheek with his fingers and softly repeat her name over and over again. Elizabeth ... Elizabeth ... Elizabeth. When she became older, she was still frightened by the storms, but had too much pride to call out. So she would hide under the blankets, and seek for her father's strength and comfort by repeating her name softly to herself. Elizabeth ... Elizabeth ... Elizabeth. So when she heard Mr. Darcy call her by her Christian name, rather than be surprised, all she could think of was a blanket descending around her to warm and comfort her, and it was all she could do to not lean over and lay her head down on his shoulder. Instead, she looked at him and gently smiled, communicating all the affection she felt for him.
Darcy was surprised by two things. First, he had not intended to use her Christian name. It had come out so naturally in the conversation, seemed to fit with the feelings he was expressing, that at first he did not realize it. Second, when he looked at her, to gauge her reaction, anticipating that she may be offended, he found her gazing at him with the most attractive smile he had yet to see grace her lips. If he had ever wondered about her regard for him, he knew it now.
"Mr. Darcy, I do not think ill of you. I cannot imagine ever feeling so."
"Thank you, Miss Bennet. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that from you."
"My sister, Georgiana, is more than ten years my junior. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine how I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is £30,000; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed."
"Well, Miss Bennet, this has been a faithful narrative of every event in which Mr. Wickham and I have been concerned together. I hope you will acquit me of cruelty towards him. I know not in what manner or under what form of falsehood he has imposed on you. Mr. Wickham is blessed with very engaging manners and is able to make friends easily."
"Let me ask you why, Miss Bennet, were you not inclined to believe his lies like so many have done before you?"
"The same man who was so kind and gentle to me at the Meryton assembly, indeed, who had affected me so strongly there, could not be the same man to have committed these wrongs against Mr. Wickham. I had no choice but to conclude that he was lying." Elizabeth felt herself blushing furiously. She knew she had just declared herself to him in the strongest possible way. She could no longer go on without letting him know how she felt, no matter how it may hurt her later. He had given her the opening. She had taken it.
"Miss Bennet, you have treated me with unexampled kindness."
Oh, why cannot I be 'Elizabeth' to him any longer?
"Please let me apologize to you again for my behavior to you at the assembly. You cannot imagine how my conscious has been troubled to find I have insulted the most pleasing young woman in the country." I could say more to you, Elizabeth, but my mind, when away from you, is not to be trusted with your love and affection.
"Please, let that be behind us, Mr. Darcy." But what is ahead of us, sir?
In unison they arose and turned and faced each other.
"I must take my leave of you, Mr. Darcy. I must go and prepare for the ball this evening. I hope to see you there."
"Yes, you will. Is it too late to ask for your hand for the first two dances?"
Elizabeth felt mortified. What was she to say to him? This was what she wanted to hear, and she was now confined to those dances by her disgusting cousin, with his unsavory designs on her.
"Mr. Darcy, I am sorry to say that it is too late. My cousin, Mr. Collins, has already begged those two dances of me."
What does that clergyman want with my Elizabeth?
For just a moment the wind was knocked out of Darcy's lungs. What had he just said to himself - My Elizabeth?
"Then perhaps the second two?"
"Yes, sir. It would give me great pleasure."
"Very well, Miss Bennet. The second two dances. I will hold you to it." He reached down and took her hand. She did not need this experience to know how she would feel when he touched her. It seemed to her that the warmth penetrated deeper inside of her than ever before. She closed her eyes for a moment, the better to try and remember the feeling. When she opened them he was placing a lingering kiss on her hand. She had never been so close to his eyes before. It was as if she had never been seeing them before. They appeared to look right through her, or rather, inside of her. She could hide nothing from him. Every secret feeling she had for him passed across her eyes at that moment, and she knew that he saw it all. Did he approve it all? So caught up in these feelings was Elizabeth that she nearly forgot to feel the pressure of his lips on her hand. When he took his lips away, he continued to stare into her eyes as he lowered her hand back to her side. He broke his eye contact with her as he spoke:
"Have a pleasant afternoon, Miss Bennet."
He then mounted his horse and in just a moment was gone down the horse trail towards Netherfield.
Elizabeth could not move. What had he called her, 'the most pleasing young woman in the country?' And he had answered her every wish by asking her to dance for the first two dances, even if now she could not accept him.. But he was not angry, of that she was sure. If she could just endure one-half hour of agony with Mr. Collins, she would be rewarded with one-half hour of pleasure with Mr. Darcy. She would not hope that he would ask her to dance a second time.
She never could have imagined that he would kiss her hand. The intimacy of the moment with him, out here in the solitude of Oakham Mount, was exhilarating.
But the horror of what he had said about Mr. Wickham. She was so glad that she had never believed him. She had that to be thankful for. She was embarrassed that she had doubted Mr. Darcy even a little, but at least this had prompted her to approach him, and had led up to all they had shared this morning. His poor sister. What she must have felt. Mr. Wickham so very bad. Georgiana so very deceived. Probably her first love, her first confidence, her first kiss. All shattered by a thief set out to steal her away for her money and to revenge himself on her brother. What would have become of the poor girl? Elizabeth shuddered to think.
Posted on Wednesday, 26 June 2002
Darcy made a quiet entrance into Netherfield and asked a servant where Bingley was.
"Mr. Bingley is in the drawing room, sir."
"I thank you."
Heading to the drawing room, Darcy decided it was time for he and Bingley to have a talk about Miss Jane Bennet.
"Darcy, where have you been? We were about to send out a search party after you."
"I was doing some riding, taking the air, is all." Darcy tried to hide a blush as he recalled the morning's events.
"Yes, well, you seem to have been doing a lot of that lately. Anyway, I am glad to have you back. You are planning on attending my ball tonight, are you not?"
"Yes, Bingley, I would not miss it for the world." He paused, "Bingley, I was wondering if you would join me in the library for some private conversation."
"Certainly, Darcy, come with me and tell me what is on your mind."
They walked across the hall into the library. Darcy pulled the heavy door closed behind them. They would not be disturbed behind that door, to be sure.
"Darcy, would you care for some port or brandy?"
"Make mine port. I want to be all liveliness for tonight, if you do not mind."
"Of course. You do seem a little eager for tonight's ball. Is there any particular reason for it?" Bingley handed him a glass of port, with a smile.
"No, not particularly," Darcy lied, swallowing half his glass. "But I would like to ask you about Miss Bennet. The rumor in Meryton has it that you are head over heels in love with her and intend to propose marriage to her soon. Is there any truth to that?"
"And if there is, what is that to you?" replied Bingley. He was feeling a little defensive. He was not quite sure what his friend would think of his relationship with such a family as the Bennets.
"I am your nearest friend, Bingley, that is all. I would like to know what you plans are."
Bingley hesitated. "I am in love with Jane Bennet. I intend to propose marriage to her after tonight's ball. I will leave to town to purchase an engagement ring for her and have my attorney draw up the settlement papers. I will be gone for three days. During that time, I would like it very much if you were to call and look after her for me."
"Bingley, I have seen you in love before. Remember Miss Manweather, Miss Bickering, Miss Athery. Bingley, you fall in love with nearly every pretty face you meet. Why run into marriage so soon now? Each time all they did was hurt you. As soon as somebody else with a little more wealth or a title came along, they broke your heart and were gone from your life. You have known Miss Bennet only a short time, don't you think this is going a little too far too fast? Darcy, are you thinking of Elizabeth? Why are you really having this conversation with Bingley?
"Darcy, I have never felt this way about any woman. You have no idea what it is like to be truly in love. Your whole life is changed. You are filled with joy!" Bingley, I think I do know.
"But does she return your regard? She seems to accept your attention, but she seems so mild and cautious."
"Come on, Darcy, she is a lady. Do you expect her to throw herself at me? She is very reserved, but when I look in her eyes I know how she feels for me. And I admit she may not feel as much for me as I do for her, but I know she will love me if I give her the chance to openly express herself, which she can do, if we are engaged. Do not try to talk me out of this Darcy. You will only hurt me and our friendship."
"Bingley, I do not want to cause you pain, nor do I want to damage our relationship, I just want to make sure you know what you are about. What of her family? Their connections are not the greatest. Her mother and sisters, other than Miss Elizabeth, are somewhat vulgar in their general behavior." Please, Bingley, help me with this one.
"Well, yes, that is true, but I am marrying Jane, not the mother and sisters. And while this will make my relationship with them much closer, do I not have that mother to thank for raising such a daughter as Jane? As far as connections go, her uncles are in trade. Where do you think my fortune came from, regardless of what my sisters try to forget? I am a tradesman. My fortune still comes from trade, though I am not active in the business now. This may mean something to you if you were to marry a Bennet, but not to me. Yes, I suppose you are right on that score. Uncles in trade, and my fortune is inherited. Should it mean that much to me? Is she worth it? Is Elizabeth Bennet worth it? She must be.
"Darcy?"
"Oh, sorry Bingley, I was thinking."
"That is what I have to say about Miss Bennet. I know my sisters want me to marry your sister, which, I suppose, had been my intention, though I confess I really never was in love with her. I am sorry Darcy.
"No, do not be, Bingley. She is full young to be getting married. She needs men in her life she can rely on, which is you as a friend, not as a husband. And I know she will like Miss Bennet very well."
"So I have your blessing then?
"Do you need my blessing?
"No. But I would like it all the same."
"Well, then go to it, Bingley."
"Thank you, I shall. And we will be very happy. I know that Jane will come to think of you as a dear friend, just as I do.
Chapter 7
That afternoon, Elizabeth was able to spend a few minutes in private with Jane and relate to her some of the contents of her meeting with Mr. Darcy at Oakham Mount. She told Jane about Mr. Darcy's dealings with Mr. Wickham. What a stroke this was for poor Jane! who would gladly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Most earnestly did she labor to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear one without involving the other.
"This will not do," said Elizabeth; "you never will be able to make both of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr. Darcy's; but you shall do as you chose."
"I do not know when I have been more shocked," replied Jane. "Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Poor Mr. Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!"
Jane had to at last reconcile herself to the fact that Mr. Wickham was not so deserving a person as he seemed, and that Mr. Darcy was worthy of all affection and gratitude.
Elizabeth did not tell Jane about the rest of her interview with Mr. Darcy. She was not ready to confess her feelings towards him and was not sure if Jane would approve of her forwardness and she certainly did not want to excite the suspicions of anyone. Mr. Darcy's use of her Christian name and the impact it had on her, the kiss he placed on her hand -- which she could still feel -- would remain her secret.
Elizabeth went upstairs to dress for the ball earlier than she normally would, to allow Sarah extra time to weave a lace ribbon through her curls. To own the truth, she was nervous about seeing Mr. Darcy, and edgy about having to dance the first two with Mr. Collins. To be on display with him before the whole of Meryton was a humiliating thought. She only hoped Mr. Darcy would be late in coming down so he would not be a witness to her disgrace. The thought of him seeing her with Mr. Collins was more than she could bear. But bear it she would, and one form of protection would be in her preparation, so here she was, above an hour sooner than she needed to be, dressing for the ball. She chose her newest cream colored gown. It had a flattering cut, and had been a gift from her aunt Gardiner during her latest visit to London, on the occasion of a ball given by one of Mr. Gardiner's business associates. She had not much jewelry. Her finest piece was her garnet cross which she regularly wore, so she would wear it tonight, as well. She hoped Mr. Darcy would approve of her. She had done her best.
It was a relief getting out of the carriage at Netherfield. Mr. Collins had plenty to say, seemed to want to say most of it to her, and spoke rather more loudly than required. The cool night air was quite a contrast to the stuffiness of the coach. Jane walked with her up the stairs to the hall. They were greeted by Mr. Bingley and his sisters. Elizabeth discreetly glanced around for Mr. Darcy. She was not disappointed. He was standing off in the shadow of a curtain that protected a balcony. She saw him stiffen slightly as their eyes met. At just that moment her attention was called away by Miss Bingley, but she could feel his gaze upon her as she finished her introduction of Mr. Collins and began her walk into the ballroom.
Mr. Darcy had been watching the carriages arrive from a chair stationed near a second story window. He would lean against the glass every time he saw a coach arrive, hoping for the earliest view of Elizabeth. When he knew she was here, then he would go down to the ballroom. It had been a long afternoon. Coming upon her at Oakham Mount this morning had been a complete surprise, in a way. He had been going there everyday since she told him about her walks there, and had almost given up on ever seeing her. Today was to have been his last attempt. He shuddered to think what he might have missed if yesterday had been his last visit.
His usual routine was to rise early before the rest of the household, saddle his own horse, then ride hard to the base of Oakham Mount. Then he would ride slowly to the top, hoping against hope that she would be there. She never was. Then he would traverse the top to the opposite side facing Longbourn in anticipation of seeing any sign of her approaching. She never did. Then he would wait. He would sit on that flat stone and wait for her as long as he could possibly invent plausible excuses for the time he had been away from Netherfield. Then, with a long last look over his shoulder, he would walk his horse down the Mount and ride hard again back to Netherfield, saving every precious minute absent from Netherfield in hopes of seeing her. Many mornings he knew he would not see her, for it was too cold. But she was hardy and determined, and it was not worth the risk of missing her, so he would come anyway and wait. And today she came. She was there.
It is not the common way to view a person sitting still and to be reminded of fluid motion, but that was his first thought when he saw her - the smooth grace he felt from her movements when he was dancing with her at the Meryton assembly. She was bewitching. Intoxicating. Her fine eyes. I will never forget that scent. What am I to do? I am falling in love with her. No. I am in love with her. I truly am. Can I marry her? There is still this resistance, this anticipation of what others expect of me, my family, society, even myself, can that be true? And they would not expect me to marry Elizabeth, in fact, it would be quite the opposite. I am ashamed of myself. If I ask her to love me, I know that she will. She has all but told me so. Is there only one way to sort this out, must I leave Hertfordshire for a time? He had to laugh to himself. Leave Elizabeth? These thoughts had tormented his afternoon. All he could think of was Elizabeth, and the second two dances at the ball. He could hardly swallow past the lump in his throat.
From his vantage point by the window he finally saw her descend from a carriage, accompanied by all her sisters, her mother and the clergyman. That is the cousin who claimed the first two dances from Elizabeth. How shall she ever endure him? Darcy watched the family enter the hall, then he exited the window and went to his next vantage point by a balcony. She was beautiful. The color of the gown highlighted the natural shade of her soft skin. He had never seen her in that dress before, but he supposed that was true of most of her clothing. But it was a crime to keep this gown from his notice. It seemed to be another layer of skin shimmering in the candle light as she walked into the ballroom. Their eyes had met briefly. He had drunk in the sight of them as if he had not seen her in weeks. Had it only been just this morning? Her hair was pulled carefully back from her face and a lace ribbon woven through her hair. Do you realize how beautiful you are, Elizabeth? I surrender to you, my love.
Darcy followed her into the ballroom. She seemed to be waiting. He came up to her and bowed. She curtseyed. He said,
"You look so beautiful this evening, Miss Bennet, words do not describe how I feel when I look at you."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. You are looking rather well yourself," she teased.
"How do you like Netherfield when it is all dressed up for a ball? Bingley and his staff have worked for several days now to make it just right for your sister."
"Indeed, Mr. Darcy. For my sister?"
"Yes, I confess, he is quite taken with her, he has told me so himself, just this afternoon.. But I have a question. And you will rightly be upset with me for asking it. Does she return his regard, do you think? Her feelings seem so guarded. She accepts his attentions, but I cannot tell if she returns them."
Elizabeth began feeling uncomfortable.
"Mr. Darcy, why are you having this conversation with me? Who are you to be the judge of how my sister is feeling? Is not that between Mr. Bingley and Jane?" she snapped back. Mr. Darcy, please do not do this to me. Do not take away the dream, do not shake my faith in you.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I know you are becoming angry with me, and you have every right to be. Bingley has been hurt very severely in the past by women who seek only his fortune or leave him when they tire of his light, jovial attitude. I am only trying to protect him. How much more pain can he take?"
"Mr. Darcy, I do not know what Mr. Bingley's past has been or what he is prepared to 'take' or not. But my sister is not a fortune hunter, nor are her attentions to Mr. Bingley insincere. Your interference in their affairs is completely officious. You have no right to judge her. How dare you!"
"Please Miss Bennet. Please do not be angry. Please listen to me. It is not my desire to hurt your sister or you, especially you."
"What does that mean, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy chose to ignore her question. "Mr. Bingley has told me that he is prepared to make an offer of marriage to your sister. Bingley's sisters are very much opposed to the match, but I know he will rely on my advice. They want him to marry my sister, Georgiana, which I would consent to, but she is so young, and they are so dissimilar in temperament. Bingley loves your sister. If she returns his regard, I told him that this is where his happiness lies. I know that I am being impertinent, but I am asking for your help in securing his happiness. Does Miss Bennet love him in return?"
"Jane is very reserved and does not feel it is appropriate to show her feelings where they are open to the discussion of the world. She has confided in me, on more than one occasion, that she feels very strongly about him. While she has never used the word 'love' before, I can tell that she does love him, and that if he were to propose marriage to her, Jane would accept him and love him with all her heart."
Elizabeth could hardly believe what she was hearing, so full she was with joy. Jane and Mr. Bingley would soon become engaged. Jane, who was the sweetest, gentlest creature in the world, deserved to be loved by that kind, handsome Mr. Bingley. She would be settled so happily, her future so secure. A marriage of true affection. They would and could respect and love each other forever. Netherfield would become a happy home, the couple soon joined by children in an example of domestic felicity.
"Mr. Darcy, I feel that my anger towards you is quickly giving way to gratitude. I am sorry for judging you without listening to you. Any effort that you can exert in their behalf would be greatly appreciated by myself. I know that Jane already admires and respects you, this would only raise you in her esteem."
The Bingleys entered the ballroom, a sign that the last of their guests had arrived. Too soon for either, Elizabeth and Darcy were interrupted by none other than Mr. Collins, who began with,
"I have come to understand, sir, that you are Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, of the Pemberley estate in Derbyshire. I happened to overhear from the young lady who does the honors of this house your name, as well as the name of your cousin, Miss Anne De Bourgh, of Rosings Park. Well, sir, she is the daughter of my imminent patroness, the Honorable Lady Catherine De Bourgh, who I believe is your aunt. How wonderfully these sort of things do occur. Who would have thought of my meeting with a nephew of Lady Catherine De Bourgh in this assembly? It is in my power, sir, to assure you that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."
Darcy hesitated in his reply for a long moment. It was offensive and vulgar for this Collins person to be addressing him in this way. Yet he was Elizabeth's cousin and she was standing right here with him.
"I thank you. And what is your name, sir?" replied Darcy.
Elizabeth, near speechless from embarrassment, knew she had to exert herself.
"Mr. Darcy, this is my father's cousin, Mr. William Collins."
"I must apologize, Mr. Darcy, for not paying my compliments sooner, but I was quite unaware of our connection and of course I..."
Mr. Darcy turned and walked away, leaving Mr. Collins in mid-sentence with a gaping mouth. Elizabeth watched him go in wonderment, and wished she was going with him.