Beginning, Previous Section, Section III
Posted on Friday, 17 October 2003
When Dr. Smyth returned again at the end of the week, Darcy attempted to convince him to allow Lizzie to return to Longbourn whether her memories were restored or not. He was now sure she would be better off in familiar settings and in the care of her own family. And he felt that it was his guilt and selfishness that made him agree with the doctor to keep her from her family. He now realized that Dr. Smyth had perhaps misjudged the higher degree of care at Netherfield over the familiar settings at Longbourn for Lizzie's recovery. The doctor agreed in principle, but asked for a few more days before relinquishing Lizzie to the more chaotic household of Longbourn.
When Lizzie and Susan entered the parlor Darcy was the only occupant at the time, as the others of the household had returned to their rooms to dress for dinner. He was seated at table where a chessboard was set up. Lizzie seemed fascinated with the pieces, staring at them without voicing a sound. Recalling Jane mention of her father teaching Lizzie to play at a very young age, Darcy thought playing the game might stir a memory of something of her life before.
"Sir, Miss Jane said she was to be down directly, and I was to bring Miss Lizzie to wait."
"That is fine Miss Susan. And if Miss Lizzie does not object, I will stay with her while you have a moment's respite." Susan gave Lizzie a questioning gaze, and she nodded.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Darcy. I shall return in a quarter hour, Miss." Lizzie nodded again and Susan curtseyed and departed the room to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
Sitting in the chair opposite, the two adults viewed the board. Lizzie noted the familiar board with such strange pieces upon it; much different than those Mr. Hurst used. Darcy began instructing Lizzie on how each piece was able to move on the board. Lizzie nodded amazed at the differences in the abilities of each piece. She fingered the rooks thinking them as castles in her fairy tales. The pawns were like the toy soldiers that Mister Bingley had given her. Her favorites were the knights because they reminded her of the horses in the fields. The king and queen she understood from fairy stories too. She remained silent as the game commenced. At each turn Lizzie tried to jump the pawns with the knight as she had done in checkers. Darcy tried to explain again the difference of the two games.
"But I want to jump the men like in the game Mister Hurst taught me."
He tried not to smile, gently instructing her instead with, "you see how different the pieces are to the game you and Mr. Hurst played. This game has different rules, Miss Lizzie. You are not allowed to jump over the pawns."
"But I like to jump the men from place to place!"
"Different games call for different rules. You must put the men back to where you found them, and we will begin again."
Feeling he was patronizing her she lost her temper and with a loud, "No!"
And she scattered the pieces about the floor. Though a grown person, he knew she was still the child, and he looked at her disappointed that she had lost control. It was enough to make her regret. He could see her biting her lower lip, ready to cry.
"I am sorry, sir," she said stooping to retrieve the men. He helped her and when she looked at him and he smiled slightly, she knew he had forgiven her.
"You will do better next time." And then he added, "Perhaps we could play the other game where jumping is allowed."
Her smile was so broad and her eyes sparkled, he could not help but return it. But as she retrieved the remaining pieces and began to put them again on the board, his face showed a preoccupied expression. He wondered if she would continue to mature from this child he had grown to adore, or if one day her memories would suddenly resurface so that he may meet again the grown woman he had held in his arms, a feeling he couldn't seem to forget. But one that would forever be relegated to the confines of his heart should she never recover.
"I need to go write a letter," he said motioning his hand. She nodded, and he continued. "I will return soon, and will send your sister...Miss Jane to you. Will you be content for those few moments?" She nodded again. "In the interim, please return the chess pieces to their starting positions on the board. I will be back directly."
"Yes, sir."
He left the room then intending after he searched for Jane to go to Bingley's library and write his steward a reply that he would be further delayed. But before he had gone far down the hallway he heard Lizzie crying and rushed back to the parlor to find Caroline still slapping Lizzie's hand, which was now red from earlier abuse.
"You are never to touch Mr. Darcy's chess board. You will break it." And Caroline continued to slap her hand with each word for emphasis.
"Miss Bingley! What is the meaning of this?" Darcy roared.
Caroline thought she was alone to have full control over this country nobody. Now a child in her mind, Caroline still viewed Lizzie as a threat, and wished to punish Lizzie for liking Mr. Darcy. Realizing he had witnessed her abuse, Caroline defended herself as Lizzie tried to pull from her grasp. "I was disciplining the child for touching your chess board, Mr. Darcy."
"Disciplining?"
"It was how my parents disciplined us as children, and we never touched any of their things again. I see it as a very effective method of instructing children."
"Yes, if you wish them to fear and revile you."
Still having a firm hand on Lizzie's wrist Darcy commanded, "Unhand her, Miss Bingley. At once!"
Caroline obeyed, shocked that he would speak to her so, and Lizzie ran behind him, and peeked out in fear of Caroline.
"She will never learn obedience if we all allow her to do as she pleases."
"Did it never occur to you, Miss Bingley, to ask her why she was at the chess board? That perhaps I asked her to replace the pieces to their starting positions while I left the room?"
"She is just a child in her mind, Mr. Darcy. She knows nothing of the game."
"Indeed? When I left the room not ten minutes prior, the pieces were scattered about." He didn't relate how they got there. "View the board, Miss Bingley."
Caroline looked at the board, finding all the pieces in their proper rows except the piece in Lizzie's hand. She looked at Lizzie and then at Darcy.
"My mistake. I...was only trying to keep her out of mischief."
Darcy looked at Caroline and thought otherwise. "In future kindly refrain from striking her. It is a method of discipline I fail to see is useful to a child, and would never do so to any children I may one day have."
Caroline knew she had just gone down in Darcy's esteem, and tried to redeem herself in his eyes. "Then I shall endeavor to emulate your methods of child rearing in the future."
"See that you do," he growled, knowing her insincerity as he watched her depart.
Lizzie peeked out from behind his torso asking, "is that mean lady gone?"
"Yes, Lizzie."
"I hate her! She is so mean to me!"
"She was merely trying to teach you a lesson."
"But she hits me!"
"And what did you learn from this encounter?"
Lizzie thought a moment and said, "When I see her, I am to run away." She smiled up at him, but when he didn't return the smile, she frowned and knew he wished for another reply.
"And...?"
"And..." she began. "I am not to touch your things."
"Without my permission," he added.
"But you told me to put them back!"
"I understand, but Miss Bingley did not know of our arrangement. Had she known, she would not have disciplined you as she did."
Lizzie looked at him, eyebrows raised, not believing his last statement.
"She was in error, Lizzie. Sometimes adults are wrong in their actions."
Lizzie was sure she believed that statement if it was about Miss Bingley.
"I still hate her. She is a mean lady."
"Lizzie-" he began.
"But," Lizzie finished in surrender with, "I will obey her."
"Very good." He smiled at her adding, "Let us now go find Miss Jane." Lizzie calmed now with the change of subject.
"I know where she is," Lizzie said, finally smiling.
"Where would that be?"
"She is outside with Mister Bingby...in the garden." And she raced out of the door before he could stop her.
As he followed her he wondered again if she would grow up from this time to be an adult once more, or remain forever the child. The doctor Darcy had written to in London could give him no more assurance than Dr. Smyth who had said only that he wished to give her time to see if she would begin recall more of her past.
"Oh," moaned Lizzie.
"Lizzie, what is the matter? Are you unwell?"
Lizzie blinked her eyes and then coming out of her reverie remarked in her still child-like voice, "I remember a man and a lady."
"What were they doing?" asked Bingley as Jane held her hands. Darcy stood by the fireplace staring at her expectantly.
"The lady said she had...nerves. Does she have a cat?"
Jane and Bingley exchanged looks and smiled.
"And the man?" asked Darcy trying to keep Lizzie focused on her vision.
"He was old, and he smiled. He seemed nice and he was reading to me. It was Mister Bennet." Then she turned to Jane and caressed her face coming to the realization. "Is he my papa? He is...our papa?"
Jane smiled and hugged her. "Yes, Lizzie. You remember?"
Lizzie nodded. "Mama and Papa were in a big house, my house...with servants, and there...were other people too, but...this is very confusing to remember." She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
"You have done well," encouraged Bingley, glancing at Darcy, finally agreeing with him. For now he also felt that perhaps this would be the time to have Lizzie removed to Longbourn where the familiar setting might help restore her memories.
"My head hurts."
"Do you require rest, Miss Lizzie?"
"Yes, Mr. Bingley."
Now Jane became concerned, wondering if the was the beginning of a relapse.
"Perhaps you should take her to her room," Bingley suggested to Jane, wondering too about fetching the doctor.
Jane and Lizzie departed the parlor with the two men watching with worried faces.
"If her condition worsens we should have the doctor sent for directly," Darcy said. Bingley nodded in agreement; with both of them hoping that this was a good sign and not a relapse.
Jane and Lizzie had just entered the sitting room of her suite when Lizzie noticed an item on the table across the room.
"What is that, sister?" she asked pointing.
Jane retrieved the item and brought it over to the couch where Elizabeth had sat down, holding the basket in front of Lizzie.
"It is the basket you were using to gather the yellow flowers along the hedge. Mr. Darcy went back to collect it for you, thinking you would miss it."
Lizzie stood up straighter and stared at it in Jane's hands, and then grabbed it. Looking inside she spied the now shriveled tiny flowers, wilted in the bottom of the basket. Taking a whiff of the still fragrant flowers, Elizabeth had another flash as memories began to flood back to her. She dropped the basket and used both hands to hold her head, falling back onto the sofa.
"Oh," she moaned as memories began to fall into place. Jane became frightened, sitting next to her.
"Lizzie? Lizzie, what is it? Has you headache worsened? Do we need to fetch the doctor?"
"Jane?" Elizabeth's voiced asked.
"Yes, Lizzie," Jane answered not realizing Elizabeth had addressed her differently.
"Jane?" Elizabeth repeated, her memories suddenly restored, but terribly confused by her now unknown surroundings. She looked up as her sister's kind and concerned face, and hugged her tightly, trembling from fright, and crying.
"Oh, Jane, what has happened?"
Jane finally realized that her sister was now acting her proper age and her eyes grew wide, and she began to cry with relief that Lizzie's memories were now restored, hugging her tightly.
"Oh, Lizzie! You are back! Oh! I have been so frightened for you, wondering if you would ever come back to us."
Pulling from her sister's embrace Elizabeth stared at her. "Back? Where have I been? Jane, what has happened?"
"You were injured, and lost your memory, but now it has returned. Oh, I am so happy." And Jane hugged Elizabeth again who was still confused.
Elizabeth looked about the room, sniffing back tears, and trying to stop her heart from racing. "Jane?"
"Yes, Lizzie?"
"Where are we?"
"You are at Netherfield."
Elizabeth's eyes opened wide in disbelief. "Why are we not at Longbourn?" Her mind still disoriented by these now unfamiliar surroundings.
"Because Mr. Darcy did not know where you lived at the time of your injury."
"Mr. Darcy? Who is he?"
Jane stared at Elizabeth, now confused, realizing that the memories from the most recent weeks were no longer with Elizabeth.
Jane dabbed her handkerchief at Elizabeth's eyes and asked, "Lizzie, what is your last memory?"
Elizabeth looked down at the floor, but was trying to remember what happened. "I...was in the meadow between Netherfield and Longbourn early this morning, and...I wanted to find those yellow flowers to add into the rose water I was making for you, and...uh..."
"And?"
She closed her eyes, and the memory came to her. She looked at Jane and said, "I was bent down along a hedge where there was an abundance of the flowers and...and..."
"Yes?"
Elizabeth's brows knitted as she began to remember the sequence of events as they had occurred. "I...I heard hoof beats, and...I looked up just as a horse came over the hedge-"
"Mr. Darcy's horse grazed you head with his hoof," finished Jane. "He reined it to a halt and seeing you injured, brought you back to Netherfield. The doctor suggested that you remain here for the time being. I was sent to care for you until Dr. Smyth felt it safe to move you back home to Longbourn."
Elizabeth felt the now healing cut on her forehead. "And...just how long...how many...days have we been here, Jane?"
"Almost a fortnight, Lizzie."
Elizabeth's eyes widened again. "We have imposed for that long a time?"
"Charles...Mr. Bingley insisted. He said he did not feel it as an imposition. He only wished for you to be recovered."
Still trying to calm her rapid breathing she watched her sister blush a wonderful shade of pink. Elizabeth chided, "Jane, do you feel some regard for this gentleman?"
Her older sister continued to blush and smiled, and finally said, "Yes, he is the most amiable man of my acquaintance, Lizzie. And I think he is likewise inclined. Oh, Lizzie, he is such a wonderful man."
Elizabeth looked at her sister, and smiled at her radiant face when she spoke of Mr. Bingley, and realized that her sister was much in love.
"Then I hope to meet him, Jane."
Jane looked at her oddly saying, "You have met him, Lizzie, and conversed with him often during these passed weeks. Do you not remember?"
"I am afraid I do not. My thoughts are still a jumble. Have...have I been here all this time then in his company?"
"Yes, Lizzie, and Mr. Darcy, and Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and all the servants. You have been in all their company."
"Why then can I not remember?"
"I do not know."
Just then a knock came to the door. When Jane opened it, the doctor was there as well as Bingley and Darcy.
"We thought it prudent to send for Dr. Smyth in case of some set back," Bingley explained.
The doctor came over to the couch and began to examine Elizabeth's injury that was almost healed now, and checked her eyes, which seemed clear. But when she spoke he knew of the immense change that had taken place from the last week's behavior.
"Dr. Smyth, I demand to know what has transpired during my convalescence."
The doctor said, "Ah ha," smiled and closed his satchel. "You sustained a head injury, Miss Bennet, that caused you to temporary lose your memory, which seems to have now returned."
"But...why can I now not remember what has happened in these past weeks?"
"The mind is a complex organ and we still know little about how it functions. But I would not have you worry of it now. These good people here have aided you these past weeks. Why not ask them of the occurrences during that time?" He smiled again, and patted her hand, and she knew something was amiss, when he added at his departed, "You were a very good little girl."
"Jane?"
"Yes, Lizzie?"
Elizabeth looked from Jane to Bingley to Darcy then back to her sister. "Jane, you have much to relate to me, it seems."
Jane smiled and nodded. "Yes, it seems so."
"Do you feel well enough to come down the parlor where we can disclose all to you over tea?" asked Bingley, his wide eyes hopeful, his smile inviting.
"I am quite well, I assure you, although still a bit confused."
Jane helped Elizabeth from the couch and the whole partly moved down the hallway. Elizabeth kept looking at the two men, and finally touched Jane's arm to halt her movement. And there in the hallway Jane made the re-introductions.
"Lizzie, do you not remember Mr. Bingley from the dances at the Assembly?"
Elizabeth looked at his face, and smiled at his sweet expression. "Yes," she said finally, "You danced three dances with Jane."
Bingley smiled and his cheeks pinked. "Yes, that I did. And do you not remember that I also danced with you?"
She slowly nodded as the memory surfaced and smiled. "Yes, I remember that too."
He bowed, and turned to Darcy who stepped forward.
"Since I inferred from both Jane and Dr. Smyth your recollections of the past weeks are now gone, allow me the pleasure of introducing your savior to you. Mr. William Darcy."
"Hardly, Bingley," Darcy whispered, but gazed into Elizabeth's lovely eyes. She smiled and curtseyed.
"I thank you most heartily, sir, for coming to my rescue," she said as she held out her hand, which he took and held.
"Since it was I who injured you, there was no alternative for me than to somehow take you where you might be helped."
"Still, I thank you for all your aid."
Jane and Bingley looked longingly at each other, wishing to be elsewhere more private. Darcy noticed this, and reluctantly releasing her hand he suggested, "If I may escort Miss Lizz...Miss Bennet to the parlor for tea, that would give you leave to show Miss Jane Bennet your plans for the rose garden, Bingley."
"A wonderful idea, Darcy. Shall we, Miss Bennet?"
"Lizzie?" Jane was still uneasy about leaving her sister, even though she now seemed recovered.
"I shall be fine, Jane."
With that Jane and Bingley went quickly down the hallway while Darcy walked with Elizabeth at a more leisurely pace.
He began the discussion "I...gather you fail to remember all of your most recent memories after you awakened?"
"That seems to be true for the moment, and witnessing the doctor's demeanor, I gather that I was not altogether exemplary in my behavior." Her cheeks blushed as she whispered, "Just how bad a patient was I?"
Darcy smiled and almost refused to answer until he heard her ardent plea.
"Please, sir. If I was at all disagreeable or terse or-"
"I think...disrespectful and obstinate are a more apt description of your behavior, Miss Bennet," he said teasing.
Her brows knitted as she repeated his word. "Disrespectful? Obstinate? Sir, if you are serious at present, then you are obliged to tell me all that has transpired."
Elizabeth was almost demanding as her hand tensed on his arm. He looked at it and then into her eyes, not dissimilar to those he had witnessed in her childish ones when cross. He smiled as he saw that same determined strong willed child in this strong willed woman. He opened the parlor door for her, and they both took their tea to the couch by the hearth. She sat gazing at him, her tea untouched, waiting for his explanation.
"Your injury damaged your mind where memories are stored," Darcy began.
"As the doctor has already informed me," she replied meaning this was not new information.
Darcy continued. "Dr. Smyth forewarned us that there might be some memory loss. We were all quite confident, and felt able to deal with it, hoping, of course, that it would be a temporary state." He paused to glance at her, as she listened now more fully to his explanation, and he continued. "But your memory loss was greater than even the doctor had anticipated. Your mind had reverted to more distant memories, and when you awakened you emerged...as at a previous time in your life, and you acted as though you were that age."
Elizabeth gazed at him asking, "How old?"
He smiled and sipped his tea before replying, "Five."
She nearly dropped the teacup. "Five?" Her cheeks blushed crimson. "How can this be?"
"I know not, but as I have witnessed it, I can attest to its validity, Miss Bennet."
Elizabeth thought back so long ago to remember what kind of a child she had been at that young age, and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "Oh, sir. I hope you all were not too put out with me. I was quite spoilt at the age. I did not act too naughty, did I?"
He smiled and replied, "not at all. In fact we all found it...quite...entertaining."
She closed her eyes almost in tears when she felt his hand on her arm. Opening her eyes she saw his warm smile, and he added, "You did nothing to be ashamed of as a child, Miss Bennet," and teasing her he added, "and I only had to reprimand you once or twice the entire time."
He mouth dropped open to his remark, having never had to be reprimanded in such a long while, it seemed incredible that he would use that term to describe how he had admonished her.
"W-W-What did I do for which you had to...reprimand me?"
"There was quite a bit of running, which would probably be appropriate for one so young." Here he almost laughed as he continued. "But there was also a great deal of climbing both indoors and out that I thought only boys were prone to."
She looked down into her teacup and sighed. Her hands were shaking with such remorse that he retrieved her cup and saucer from her, and held her hand until she calmed. Finally, she ventured a glance at him asking softly, "And...that is the extent of my...misbehavior, sir?"
He thought back over the passed few weeks and smiled. "As to what concerned me, yes. Oh, and I found out that chess was not to your liking. It seems that you wanted to jump the pawns with the knights."
She closed her eyes remembering herself as a child. "When my father began to teach me the game all I wanted to do was jump over the opposing pieces after one of Charlotte Lucas's older brother taught me to play the game of checkers."
He nodded. "It seems Mr. Hurst did likewise before I offered to teach you chess. And when I tried to correct you, your temper emerged to strew the pieces onto the floor."
"And you slapped my hand," ventured Elizabeth.
He gasped at her unsmiling. "No, I would never use that form of discipline on a young child, and certainly not on a girl."
"I seem to recall some incident where-"
"Miss Bingley."
"Who?"
"I beg your pardon. You have not been re-introduced to her. She is Mr. Bingley's sister staying here with him at the moment. She slapped your hands when-"
"When I was returning the chess pieces to the board."
"Yes. Then you remember?"
"Vaguely. I hate her. She is a mean lady-" When Elizabeth realized her words, her hand flew to her mouth. "I...should not have said such a thing, and of someone I do not even know."
He smiled. "The child in you remarked a similar statement for which I admonished her, verbally only, of course."
She nodded, again taking her teacup and sipping her tea, vaguely remembering small snatches of conversation from the past weeks. Some were pleasant while others were distinctly not which were related to a tall dark haired woman. She thought of more of her impressions of the passed weeks. "I feel I am now biased against liking her."
"It matters not, for although I will deny saying so, I never had an affinity for her myself."
They both smiled, and he realized how pleased he was that she had now recovered that he may begin to know this grown up Elizabeth as well as her adorable child, Lizzie. He had a sudden thought that he would enjoy having children if they were anything like her younger version. He blushed and shook his head, relegating that thought to the back of his mind for the time being.
But he lingered on the thought of how at ease he felt when talking to her. This was a most remarkable sensation by itself due to it being such a novelty to him. He could not recall ever being this comfortable with anyone in his entire life. Mrs. Reynolds was the closest person he had to a mother figure, and he adored his sister without reservation, and both his aunts were kind in their own way. But Darcy had never before felt such complete ease conversing with any woman as he did with Elizabeth. It seemed the most natural activity, like breathing. How odd, he thought, that he could feel this way with someone he barely knew.
"Now," she said bringing him out of his thoughts. "You must tell me about yourself so I will not feel so disadvantaged at your knowing me much more intimately than I would wish."
As the afternoon slipped by, he proceeded to tell her his life's story while they sat by the fire. She laughed at his childhood stories of growing up with his cousins, and how at such a young age his mother's death she felt such sympathy for him. She loved his stories of his trip to the continent with his aunt and uncle during his teenage years. She decided she would love to see Tuscany if she were ever so fortunate to travel. He told her how he and his father shared the duties of his estate until his father's own untimely death forced Darcy to carry on, trying to raise his younger sister without the support of parents. She agreed with his wanting her to meet Georgiana, for his descriptions of the young girl made Elizabeth wish for the acquaintance too. He talked of his Cambridge years where he met and became friends with many including Bingley whom he had more than once rescued from adventures, some of which he regaled her.
Through all of his story she became aware of her own regard for him as an honorable and trustworthy friend for whom even she had benefited from his first encountered of her when he brought her into his protective sphere of influence.
She felt an even higher regard of him than for any other gentleman of her acquaintance when they began a discussion of the books each had read, which ones they preferred, which ones they found unsatisfactory, and more importantly the reasons for these opinions. Although they were not always in agreement, they each realized the keen intellect within the other to make and defend such bold preferences. At Cambridge Darcy had debated thus with his classmates on many a night, and the occasional one with Mr. Hurst. He realized how much he missed those sessions. How he had long awaited someone who could argue with him in this regard, and now here she sat before him.
As the discussion neared its end Elizabeth came to a similar notion that only she and her father had enjoyed such a discourse as this of late, and somehow knew that her father would very much enjoy this man's company as she did.
After several more cups of tea she knew most of his life up to the part of his visiting his good friend here at Netherfield when Caroline's entrance into the room interrupted them. She looked at them both, but hadn't been made aware of Elizabeth's complete recovery. Elizabeth somehow knew who this woman was, and suddenly realized how inappropriate Caroline must deem it for Elizabeth to be sequestered alone with Mr. Darcy for such a long amount of time, and lowered her eyes unable to defend herself.
However, Caroline made no mention of it, still thinking Elizabeth in a child-like state, and went to the tea tray for a cup. When she neared the couch she looked down at Elizabeth. "Little Eliza, you have been here long enough. You should go to your room...to rest before dinner."
It was clear to Elizabeth that Caroline wanted Darcy all to herself just now. Elizabeth knitted her brows wondering if she should obey her, or apprise this woman of the change in her condition. But Elizabeth must not have moved quickly enough, for she felt Caroline's hand on her wrist pulling her up from the couch, her nails digging into Elizabeth's delicate skin and leaving her in a shocked state at this assault.
"I SAID you are to go now your room, little Eliza."
"Miss Bingley-" began Darcy, standing up beside Elizabeth.
"See what indulgence fosters, Mr. Darcy. She now refuses to obey without pause. You should have disciplined her more harshly-"
Elizabeth, finally recovered, stated in a most adult voice. "Unhand me, Miss Bingley!"
Stunned, Caroline looked at Elizabeth, not believing that this child had uttered those words. She took her hand from Elizabeth's wrist, now marked with nail wounds. Elizabeth rubbed the injury, but looked defiantly at Caroline.
"Is this your method of discipline, to abuse?"
"I...thought..."
"Yes, you thought I was still as a child whom you could bully and control. Now you know that I am not, and will not tolerate you again laying a hand on me. Are we quite clear on this?"
"Yes, y- yes, Miss Eliza," stammered Caroline, looking into Elizabeth's determined eyes that to an abuser might seem sinister, making Caroline suddenly fear retaliation. "If you will excuse me, I will inform Charles of your recovery."
Caroline hurriedly left the room, aiming to inform Charles and Louisa, and to have both Bennet sisters packed and out of the house within the hour. And so intent on her mission it didn't occur to Caroline at the moment that she had left Darcy alone again with a now grown up Elizabeth who would surely be a rival and a threat to Caroline's plans to wed Darcy.
"It is quite late in the day. I have been so engrossed in our conversation that the time seems to have slipped by."
"I found it quite enjoyable."
"As did I, however, it is now time that I depart."
"You are not leaving? Bingley, I am sure is expecting you to stay for dinner."
"I fear that Miss Bingley has the maids packing our trunks as we speak," she teased.
"It is too late in the day for you to travel."
"It is but three miles, sir. A distance I can easily walk."
He began to speak, but chose then to remain silent as she continued.
"I must send word to my father to tell him of my recovery. I have been terribly negligent to have not sent him word immediately. I am sure he has been so worried."
"As I have witnessed, and he has visited with you on several occasions. Can you still not remember?"
She closed her eyes as she envisioned those times, now able to place her memories in their proper order. She nodded and smiled.
"He seemed so sad, and worried, so afraid to upset me further by removing me to my home and family, but wishing for it nonetheless."
"He will be extremely pleased you are now recovered, as will all your family."
Darcy watched in amusement as she bit her lower lip at his mention of her relations, so like what her child-self did in moments of indecision. She was wondering if this man before her would view her family as the silly creatures they sometimes display.
"They are all...unique individuals, but I have missed them."
He raised his eyebrows and smiling, made a sound that was almost a laugh. "That is how Bingley described your family when I first asked him of them. Unique individuals."
"Indeed? Mr. Bingley has been most kind for allowing Jane and I to impose on him. I would not wish to wear away our welcome by staying any longer."
"I assure you, that will never happen."
The clock in the hallway chimed announcing the lateness of the hour.
"If both Jane and my father agree, then we shall depart in the morning, sir."
"If you would not be opposed to it," he began his request. "Perhaps when Bingley renews his visits to Longbourn, I could join him, to assure myself of your full recovery?"
She teased, "to meet the unique individuals that are my family? They might not be to your liking, sir."
"They could not be so very different from most other families, Miss Bennet."
"Then you would be welcome to join Mr. Bingley, sir."
He bowed. "I hope I shall see you at dinner."
She curtseyed and then departed from the parlor. The door closed at the same time the last of the sun's rays struck the westerly windows. It seemed to Darcy that, with Elizabeth, the light had just gone from the room.
Upon the sister's return to Longbourn, and Elizabeth's continued convalescence to complete recovery, Bingley renewed his visits and addresses to Jane once more. Mr. Darcy accompanied him, having Elizabeth's assurance of his being welcomed as well. With this first of many visits over the course of the next few weeks, Mrs. Bennet welcomed Bingley with open arms. She had reservations of Mr. Darcy, however, being the person who had inflicted injury on her second eldest daughter. He in turn, thought her a silly, coarse woman, much like those scheming mamas of the ton, but tried to be civil and pleasant in his addresses to her. Of Elizabeth's three younger sisters, he likewise was cordial, but tried not to engage them in topics of which they knew little, but keep to subjects that they would have ample discourse without his adding much to the conversation.
Mr. Bennet, for his part, having at last forgiven Darcy now that Lizzie was recovered, and warmed to this austere, reserved man. It seemed that, with very little encouragement, Darcy could begin a discourse on many of the numerous volumes shelved in the Bennet library. With his wit and intellect he gave the elder gentleman delightful debates on many an evening. Mr. Bennet was also impressed with the man's astuteness in estate matters, and upon request made suggestions to Longbourn's betterment. Mr. Bennet was even known to tease this younger man, who on occasion condescended to retaliate as he grew more at ease with the elder gentleman.
Truly, thought Mr. Bennet one evening in the man's presence, this Mr. Darcy was a man of many talents that lay hidden from the world almost as if he were...shy. How extraordinary, thought Mr. Bennet further, that a man of Darcy's wealth and prestige would be so. When Mr. Bennet followed Darcy's eyes he seemed to understand the man's behavior more. Elizabeth tried not to look his way, but ever so often her father caught her gazing at Mr. Darcy to quickly look away and blush.
Mr. Bennet smiled at the thought of his Lizzie marrying such a man whom she could respect, and he heartily approved of Mr. Darcy now that he had gotten to know the man underneath all that haughty reserve. He was intelligent, well read, and astute at planning, able now to be made fun of, and more importantly, thought Mr. Bennet, the man was hopelessly in love with his Lizzie. And equally important, she seemed to be well on her way in that direction as well.
Her father's remunerations turned bittersweet at the thought of if and when she did marry, his Lizzie would move much further away from her home than perhaps Jane. This saddened Mr. Bennet to think he had only had her back home for such a short amount of time to witness her wonderful wit once more, and vowed he would request a long engagement. But glancing at his second daughter trying not to stare at the younger gentleman, her father somehow doubted he would succeed in his request.
"I say," Bingley interrupted Mr. Bennet's reverie. "It is such a lovely evening why do we not take a turn in the garden."
Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice sounded an agreement. "Oh, that is a splendid idea, Mr. Bingley...Mary, Kitty, Lydia, you may go too. Come, girls." And the two elder of the three followed their mother to get their shawls.
"Well, I shan't go," remarked Lydia. "I am going to my room to read Mrs. Radcliffe's newest novel. It is very exciting, let me tell you!" And out she flounced without a look back.
Mr. Bennet stood shaking his head and muttered, "She will be the death of me." He then took Elizabeth's hand and asked, "Would you mind very much forgoing your garden walk for a moment and remain with Mr. Darcy while I go to my library, my dear? I have a volume I wish to loan him while at Netherfield. It seems there is actually something of mine that he has yet to acquire."
"Of course, Father," Elizabeth said, happy to have a few moments alone.
"I shall return shortly," Mr. Bennet said to the young man, and he turned to leave the couple to themselves for a few moments.
"My father seems to approve of you, even if he was at first reluctant to forgive you for being the cause of my injury."
"I am happy to hear it, for I was likewise disinclined to forgive myself for harming you. I hope you have also forgiven me."
"I never harbored any ill will toward you, so there was never anything to forgive."
As the door closed, Elizabeth felt Darcy take her hand to view her previously injured wrist. She turned her head and watched as he kissed it, his lips gently grazing the tiny marks left from Caroline's abuse, his eyes never left hers. She became breathless at this sensation and the room began to spin, and she felt so warm. "Elizabeth," he whispered so softly as he pulled her into his embrace, his lips so close to hers. His hand tangled in her curls and he pulled her head to rest on his chest.
She finally remembered in her dream when the darkness had enveloped her, this was who had held her and made her feel so safe, leaning against his chest on horseback, directly after she was injured. There was such contentment for her.
He was being just as gentle now, and she snuggled into his warm chest again. When she sighed, it was an act so subtle but so profound he had to pause to keep from being overwhelmed by the joy he felt having her thus. It was as though she were meant to be always in his arms. He closed his eyes letting his mind register how soft and warm she felt next to him, and how her fragrance captured him. Never in his life had he felt this way about any woman; not even his sister gave him this much sweet contentment. He exhaled such a sigh of completeness.
His thoughts suddenly turned to Bingley's propensity of falling in love so swiftly. But after having so severely injured Elizabeth, Darcy's mind recalled his own parents' early deaths, and he came to realize the fragility and shortness of life here on Earth. His priorities shifted then to the dictum of 'carpe diem'. If it could it truly happen this suddenly, Darcy reasoned, to find that one woman, to have his mind and heart converge with such certainty that she was the one who would make him so happy, why should he delay? And both his mind and heart were now so firmly in accord that, unaware that he had voiced his thoughts aloud, he whispered, "I love you beyond anything I have ever known."
She moved her head and looked into his eyes. "William," she softly replied back. He leaned down and kissed her, barely brushing her lips with his own.
"You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met," he sighed. "Please forgive me for so sudden a declaration after such a short acquaintance. But I have never been so bewitched by anyone as I am by you. And I may stumble as I try to get through this...before there are any interruptions." And as he held her in his arms, he gazed into her eyes and continued. "Elizabeth Bennet...would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, that we may share our lives together at Pemberley?"
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She swallowed. "I...may require more time," she whispered back, "to...get to know you better."
He touched her nose with his, inhaling her wonderful fragrance again, becoming bold. "I have told you everything about my life except perhaps how much I adored you these last weeks, and wish for nothing more than to have a daughter like the one I have witnessed at Netherfield." He gently kissed the tops of her hands, which caused her to tremble.
To ease her excited tremors she teased him. "You fell in love with a child?"
"No, "he laughed, "but when your child-like self emerged, I admit to being captivated by her. But, no, it was not she who enchanted me. It had begun before then, when I held you in my arms on horseback to take where you could be helped. I felt stirrings in my heart that I had never before experienced." He paused to kiss her temple, relishing in the taste of her skin, her bruise all but gone and the scar fading.
"The afternoon of your recovery I told you of my life. Since then I could not envision my future without you beside me. So you see, it is already a hopeless case." He kissed her cheek and sighed, "I had already begun to love you even before I met your child self. Now that you have regained your memories, I find myself falling more deeply in love with you than even I could imagine."
"But..." she became unsure, "from all that you have told me, I know your place in society is so much higher than my own. How would it appear to all in your circle if you made an offer to a poor country gentleman's daughter?"
"Elizabeth, as to your being 'poor', the only thing you lack is wealth, that I can provide in abundance. I assure you, you are worth more than any monetary sum. As to the other point, after having been in society for over ten years, I have yet to find anyone in my circle with whom I would wish to share my life...until now. If society refuses to see what I see in you, then...they are not worth my time."
She smiled and raised her eyes to his face and he leaned down and kissed her most ardently this time, and felt her respond with an equal passion that made him more than happy with the result until he had to pull away from her in order to breathe. And in a raspy voice managed, "You...must not respond in such a way if you still intend to refuse me."
Her fingers touched his lips, and breathless, she timidly smiled and whispered, "And was the response proper if...the intent was quite the opposite of a refusal?"
He smiled, and said, "That was more than proper if you meant to verbally accept me." He touched his forehead to hers, realizing her eyes showed equal rapture from his attentions.
"I...would be honored to become your wife," she whispered, smiling back at him.
He pressed his mouth against her now swollen lips, his tongue parting them to allow him to more fully explore her mouth. But wishing to remain a gentleman, he forced himself to pull away from her. "I am very happy you are so recovered," he managed to say.
"As am I," she agreed, trying to slow her own breathing.
"When your father returns, I will ask to speak to him." She nodded.
He looked into her eyes, and saw his entire life lay before him there, and knew he would at last be blissfully happy.
He stared at the face of his lovely wife. The scar from the horse hoof was barely visible now as he caressed it. He could scarcely fathom how quickly things had developed since Elizabeth's recovery.
When he and Bingley announced their engagements to Jane and Elizabeth, Caroline refused to stay at Netherfield another day. So incensed, she made the entire household cringe at her shouting, making her the maids repack her trunks several times before she was satisfied. Hurst and his wife offered to take her to London, and were gone by late morning. They were not seen again until the wedding in mid December where Caroline sulked through its entirety.
Upon returning from their honeymoon to Italy Elizabeth became suddenly ill. Darcy was most concerned until the doctor assured him that Elizabeth was fine, and that the symptoms were due to her being with child. The following summer the daughter she had given him was a wonder that daily brought them such happiness. He knew that, unlike Caroline, he and Elizabeth would raise their daughter to know how very much she was loved and wanted.
And now it was autumn again, around the time a year ago that he had first met Elizabeth. She seemed in good health now, but Darcy worried of her feeling tired of late, and he wondered if she put too much upon herself as the mistress of Pemberley.
"And you are sure you are well?"
"Yes, William, I am quite well with all the help you have provided me. Do not fret so over me."
He smiled, remembering the same now oft used statement her child-self once voiced of her sister's care while recovering at Netherfield. He also now knew the proper response to it, and leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly, his voice soft. "I do so because I care for your well-being."
She closed her eyes at his action and smiled and sighed, nodding. They both looked down at the healthy baby.
"The wet nurse you hired is a marvel, William. Rachel is growing faster than I could ever have imagined."
"She has your eyes, Elizabeth."
"But your mouth and chin, my love."
"I believe you are correct."
"What does that signify?"
"That she will be smart and handsome."
"The statement of a proud papa," she teased.
He shrugged. "I only say what is true as I see it."
Just then the baby stretched and shivered and wiggled, her little hands took hold of one of his fingers.
Viewing the baby's grip Elizabeth teased, "I might add she seems strong, and I am sure will be audacious."
He laughed softly. "But I think I can manage to keep her from climbing...at least in the house."
Elizabeth smiled. Her eyebrows arched in a manner he knew well now, that implied that there was some fact he apparently had failed to discern.
"Elizabeth?"
"I was very naughty to climb Mr. Bingley's library shelves."
He shrugged. "We enjoyed all your antics during your regression."
"But William, pray, tell me truthfully," she asked in greater seriousness. "Were you not hard pressed to keep up with me?"
"No," he immediately replied.
But he then thought on those times when she actually had run from the room, or skipped down the path out of his sight for a bare fraction of time. "Your sister had the greater responsibility of your care, but I think both Bingley and I acquitted ourselves admirably, showing ourselves capable while you were in our charge."
Seemingly unsatisfied with his answer, and not looking directly at him, she continued with some agitation in one breath, "But that was only one child...well...not an actual child...as one who would be small enough to truly hide from you for you to seek...and make such messes with the inkwells...or constantly badger you with questions about everything under the sun, including the sun...and cry, but not know why, or not be able to state it in terms you could discern...and have flights of temper that defy logic, or-"
He stopped her ramblings with his finger upon her lips, and stared in anticipation, a tentative smile spreading across his face.
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes?"
"Are we to have another child?"
"Yes." She stared at him, unsure how he would respond to such surprising news. But he smiled and caressed her cheek.
"Good. I had not the intention of our daughter being without siblings."
"But is so soon after the first."
"Perhaps, but we seem to have a predilection to do things rather quickly." Her expression showed she agreed with that rather obvious statement, but his smile of acceptance gave her relief from her anxiety.
And being mindful of the infant, he leaned over and kissed his wife's sweet lips, whispering, "If we keep this up, we shall be able to fill all the bedchambers at Pemberley."
She pulled her lips away suddenly from his. "Did you not once tell me of there being 80 bedrooms here?"
His dimples showed quite readily in the smile he gave her. "Yes."
Her expression changed from disbelief to one of surprised horror. But as she stared into his eyes brightened with delight, she gave him a beaming smile and she began laughing, shaking her head at his jest.
"Do you not think it a judicious use of our time?"
"Yes, dear," was the only sarcastic reply Elizabeth could make for both their laughing.