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Chapter 26
Though their early morning together ended on a positive note, Elizabeth still felt unsettled for the rest of the day, and she attended to her dress fittings with an impatience that she barely managed to hide. The first two modistes arrived one after the other mid-morning. Two equally enchanting gowns were delivered after luncheon. Between her appointments and other minor tasks, Elizabeth had time to read her correspondence and was relieved to see such a quick reply from Jane. She read it twice in an attempt to comprehend what was written between the lines. After a second perusal, she sat back in her chair, completely mystified. She had more questions and even fewer answers! Clearly, her elder sister was very unhappy, though she was no less mysterious than Bingley about it. Really. It was not like Jane to be so vexingly reserved when so obviously distressed. Bingley was barely mentioned, but some passages struck Elizabeth forcefully:
Please know that I worry about you very constantly, and I am deeply, deeply sorry for the lack of compassion I showed you when you first became engaged. I fear admitting this to you, but I was relieved to have the scandal resolved. Oh Lizzy! That was shamefully selfish of me and I hope you can some day forgive me for such sentiments. If only I had been brave enough to intercede on your behalf! I am grieved to know that you must daily pay the price for your family's well-being, and moreover that you were not to blame for the circumstances that swept us all up. I hope that I was not wrong, that Mr. Darcy is a man to be trusted. I likewise know that you only ever wished to marry for love. Please know that if you can find no way to be happy with him (for no other reason than your own heart) I shall not hesitate to come to you, and at least lend what support I can do, though it is a small gesture.I am glad that you are enjoying London and can report that my aunt and uncle are well. I see from your postscript, which I have hesitated to reply to, that you have dined with Mr. Darcy's friend. With regard to that other gentleman, dearest Lizzy, I have little to say. If he seems disinterested in me now (you have not said so, but I would not be surprised) then I have only myself to blame. I cannot explain, for I am not in a position to disclose others' confidences. What has happened is for the best, though my heart is sad with the knowledge that I have caused you further distress. You must not worry about me. You must think of yourself.
There was no way to make sense of this. Her sister's painful situation was felt acutely ... What could have happened between two such intelligent, kind people? She could not imagine them quarrelling. She could only assume that some terrible misunderstanding had driven them apart. As much as she tried, she could not envisage what that might be. One thing was clear, Jane seemed to be taking the blame upon herself for a great deal. And why the emphasis on the fact that the scandal was not Elizabeth's fault? Did Jane hold someone else accountable? Not Bingley, surely? Jane's forgiving nature would not blame him for the chain of events he had unintentionally created. They had been quite happy together when Elizabeth left Hertfordshire, and Jane had known then about Bingley's error. No, it could not be that. She was also struck by how much Jane felt responsible for her sister's welfare and accused herself of selfishness. This surprised Elizabeth somewhat, though she had recalled feeling a little deserted at the time. None of that had anything to do with Jane and Bingley ... Finally, she felt tears sting her eyes as she reread Jane's promise to come to her if her situation were unbearable. How like Jane. On reflection, Elizabeth was disturbed to realize that behind Jane's offer was the unhappy idea that she did not expect to be married anytime soon. Her words implied it. There was simply nothing to do but wonder, and hope something for the better would happen soon.
Despite all these concerns, her mind was never very far away from the earliest events of the day. She wondered how Mr. Darcy was, where he was now, and what she should do when he returned home. She was somewhat disappointed that he had not returned for luncheon and worried about how he regarded her now. If he really were as understanding as he professed to be that morning, then why did he stay away? Was he angry, upset, confused? She was confused! Given all that she had said, he might very well wish to stay far away, for though she had spoken highly of him she had likewise made it clear that she did not trust him. If she really thought so highly of him, the question remained, why could she not trust him? She saw now that her parents' marriage had much to do with her current distress. It had troubled her, and made far more of an impact on her than she had ever realized before. She supposed there was a sort of emotional logic to the fact that such fears would come to the surface only now upon her own marriage. Putting all that aside, equally provocative was the returning question of whether or not she ought to place her faith in Mr. Darcy. She had to decide if he were worth the risk; if he failed her by proving unreliable then she would be opening the door to terrible hurt, though she wondered if it really would be any worse than what she was suffering now.
While Elizabeth was preoccupied thus throughout the day, Mr. Darcy had gone fencing with Bingley in the early morning. His mind was in utter turmoil. He could barely concentrate on his game, and Bingley had a rare total victory. As he thought about their conversation, he was at least relieved to know that she held him in such high regard as a man; unfortunately, thanks to her own observations at home and elsewhere, his being a man apparently made him immediately suspect in her eyes. He reflected painfully that it really did not signify to be held in high regard as a creature of a certain kind, if the category in which you were placed had such a low ceiling. He saw how his earliest conduct had simply confirmed her deepest fears in this regard. He felt shocks of remorse come over him when he realized how close he had come to going through with his recent desperate plan. If he had, she would certainly have never learned to trust him. Now at least, he had proven to himself that he was capable of unselfish acts for her sake.
Try as he might, he could not hide his sense of agony from his friend, though neither was he willing to confide in him. In the face of Mr. Bingley's concern and persistent questions, he said just enough, and Mr. Bingley observed enough, to gather his own sense of the facts. Put together with previous observations, Bingley concluded that Darcy was in love; she likely was not. He was unhappy; she was reluctant about being married. It was a painful, unfortunate situation, and Bingley decided that something must be done, though he did not yet know what.
Though Elizabeth was all that was spirited and charming, Bingley had seen little evidence that her heart was easily touched. He liked her a great deal, as it was impossible not to, but wondered what man could win her. She did not have Jane's natural tenderness; she was a keen, perhaps even shrewd observer, and he suspected not nearly as inclined to interpret other people in the best light the way her sister would. There was definitely a steel beneath the charm that was a little disconcerting...though he was discovering that to be a family trait. ...He forced his mind back to the task at hand. He had seen Lizzy's initial dislike of his friend, though he was well used to Darcy giving offence wherever he went. Yet even as early as their first fortnight in Hertfordshire, Bingley had detected his friend's growing admiration for the second eldest Miss Bennet, despite his earliest protestations. Whereas, her dislike seemed to increase. Though he had to admit that his attention had been elsewhere while in Hertfordshire, Bingley could not forget the entire unfortunate Netherfield business or that her feelings could not have been more clear in the aftermath.
On the occasions that he had observed the couple, both immediately before and after their wedding day, he thought she received his friend's attentions with increasing acceptance, and even pleasure. On the other hand, she was just as likely to argue with him as not. They were in fact a little tiresome together. Bingley did not like conflict. That a couple could wish to quarrel was far from his ideal of peace and harmony; he did not credit such romantic notions as are usually put forth that such behaviour was proof of love. It was possible to love amiably, and far too undervalued in his opinion. Though Jane, he knew, would remind him that one must allow for differences of temper....Still, he had seen no clear evidence that Elizabeth returned his friend's regard. On his two calls to their home, they were more inclined to watch him than each other. Elizabeth watched him like a hawk; clearly she wanted to know why he had left Hertfordshire. All he could do was sidestep as best he could. God knew, it was far too painful to talk about; nor could he draw them into it. Jane would. ...Then there was Darcy's appearance yesterday morning. True, Bingley was early, but Darcy was an early riser and it was strange indeed to find him so distracted and not in an altogether pleasant mood, though he tried to hide it....No, her heart was not easily touched, though she might be flattered by his friend's regard. What woman would not be flattered to have brought Fitzwilliam Darcy to his knees? It was a state of affairs that Bingley had never thought possible. Normally, he was the one who fell in love, and Darcy stood by with a somewhat sardonic view of the whole business.
Bingley resolved to visit Elizabeth that very day, find out what he could, and do what he might.
It happened that he paid a call on Elizabeth just after she finished reading Jane's letter. He was shown into her morning room, and with a falsely cheerful air, bowed and took the seat she offered. She rang for refreshments, wondering at his unexpected appearance.
"As delighted as I am to see you, I must ask what you have done with my husband."
Bingley smiled. "Well, after soundly beating him in our match, I allowed him to go off alone and lick his wounds for the rest of the day."
She raised her eyebrows in some surprise. As far as she knew, Mr. Bingley was a respectable swordsman, but she had heard from Mrs. R. II that Mr. Darcy was quite accomplished at the sport. With a sinking feeling, she worried again that her confessed fears had distressed him more than he had allowed her to know. "And where exactly did he go to 'lick his wounds' sir?"
Though she spoke lightly, he saw the concern in her face. This boded well for his intended course. "I believe he went to Bloomsbury to hunt for books, and then planned to go riding in the park before the fashionable hour."
She could not help but smile at both pieces of information. There had been no denying his enthusiasm yesterday while she led him from one favourite bookseller to another. She could not remember having had such an enjoyable time with a companion before, merely discussing books. Bingley's comment about the park did not surprise her either. Mr. Darcy thought promenading around during the fashionable hour was nonsensical, though he had been willing to take her if she wished. "Well Mr. Bingley, this will give us a perfect opportunity to exchange news. We have not had a chance to talk yet as we formerly did in Hertfordshire."
She thought he looked a little pained at that reflection and left it alone. He recovered quickly enough, smiling and saying that those were very happy days indeed; he recognized a convenient opening when he saw one. "You must have been somewhat distracted during your last week there, preparing for your wedding. It must have been quite an adjustment for you, happening as fast as it did. I hope you are over that now and find your new situation not too unpleasant?"
The earnestness with which he looked at her as he spoke left her a little puzzled. She had not expected such directness. She felt they had been friends in the past regardless of how things stood between him and Jane presently; she imagined it was only natural that a man as kind as Bingley would express some concern. Wanting to relieve his mind, she answered honestly. "I cannot complain about my new situation, Mr. Bingley. Your friend is a very good man and we are getting along quite well now."
He was surprised to hear her interpretation, given Darcy's agony that morning. He studied her closely as the tea things were brought in, but could find no trace of unhappiness to give lie to her words. To be certain, she seemed a little ... shaken? Yes, she seemed shaken. Not her usual self-possessed manner. Almost ... vulnerable? ... But also quite content. Was she aware of or oblivious to his friend's suffering? To his depth of feeling?
"I can't tell you, Mrs. Darcy, how glad I am to hear that you are doing well in your new life. Your friends and family have all been concerned, I assure you! You are right though, my friend is a good man. One of the best in fact. He deserves to be happy. ...Though happiness is not always possible in a given situation. A man might wish for more, yet his affections might not be returned. It is a fortunate man that is loved as he himself loves."
Elizabeth thought this was a probable allusion to his own situation, and handed his teacup to him speculatively. A direct approach would not work, she knew that. Here was further proof that where Jane was concerned, he preferred to speak in riddles. She thought perhaps if she could just give him a hint ... she regarded him seriously as she spoke.
"Men do not have the sole claim on such unhappiness, sir. It is possible for a woman to love and find that her hopes will not come to fruition. She may then think the best course of action is to resign herself to her unhappy lot. That is not ideal, but the true philosopher will make the best of any situation - especially if she blames herself for their estrangement and his absence."
He nodded. She loves him! Thank God, she loves him. Such feelings explain that look of vulnerability about her. And she is blaming herself! Just as Darcy seems to be. Yet he did not understand how she could so calmly speak of her feelings of disappointed love. How like her father she was. Being truly affable, Bingley did not wish hardship on anyone, but he could not deny his elation at these revelations about her feelings. He had not expected it - how lucky that Elizabeth was by nature so frank, or he might never have known. ...Since he did, he could offer information and correct her misperception. You need not thank me, Darcy. It is the least I can do.
"Let us hope, Mrs. Darcy, that these scenarios of unrequited love are rarely the case. I have seen many couples in love, it was obvious to the entire world, yet neither one seemed to know of the others' feelings."
She smiled at him, and offered him another one of André's treats. "That was my point exactly!"
He did not know how to interpret this cheerful answer and concluded that, in true Lizzy-fashion she was expressing something she had not really meant simply to cover her deeper feelings. He would not let the opportunity go that easily, however. "What do you propose to resolve such a situation, Mrs. Darcy? In such a case as I describe, what should the man and woman do to clear up such a grave misunderstanding?"
"Well, since you ask, the man in such a situation must first return home."
"And then?"
"And then, he will see with his own eyes that all can be well."
"I cannot believe it is as simple as that. Suppose painful words have been exchanged in the past, and now lie between the couple? Surely, the woman must take some responsibility? If he returns, she must be the first to speak."
"I grant you your point. Yet you are assuming that only he has been wounded. Why should she be the first to speak simply because he corrects his past error of leaving her in the first place?"
He smiled, aware that women were inconsistent. She had blamed herself a moment ago. Yet she felt wounded by Darcy's prolonged absence all day, and therefore, would not confess her feelings to him. "Perhaps she should be the first to speak because he only needs that little bit of encouragement before he confesses all."
She bit her lip. "What if her reserve will not allow that, any more than his will?"
"Then, being a clever man, he will bear that in mind and show great courage by taking the first step - as long as her manner itself is encouraging, he cannot help but discover her feelings."
"Oh, I assure you, a woman in love is unlikely to hide it for long once her beloved returns." She saw the cloud that suddenly lifted from him, and the sunny Bingley disposition she knew so well burst forth. Good. You may thank me later, Jane.
"I suppose we have good reason to hope that somehow between the two of them they manage, given that they love one another."
"Exactly Mr. Bingley! Another mille-fueille?"
MR. BINGLEY was about to take his leave when his sisters were announced. It was an odd situation; they had not encountered the new Mrs. Darcy before, and one sister at least had not forgiven the scheming trollop for preying on the goodness of a respectable man. They would not have come at all, except that they had their own agenda. Moreover, Miss Bingley had not attended fashionable schools for young misses for nothing. She could make polite, insincere conversation with all the polish and vengeance of the first circles. Elizabeth welcomed them sincerely, well aware of the effort the sisters were exerting to appear desirous of her company, though she immediately saw the disappointment in Miss Bingley's face on discovering Darcy absent. Miss Bingley was not disappointed for long however. Fresh tea had only just arrived when the master of the establishment walked through the door.
"Bingley! ...Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst. ...How pleasant to see you all here." He glanced at his wife to gauge how she made out. She smiled at him with unmistakable warmth. She seemed quite calm and unruffled, though when their eyes met, he detected a new vulnerability that she could not hide. He wanted to talk to her, to draw her into his arms and reassure her. Since that was not possible under the circumstances, he sat himself down and acted as an agreeable host should. Less than a quarter of an hour later, Mr. Bingley rose to take his leave and expected his sisters to follow him. Neither made a move to go, despite his hints. Darcy was just about to see Mr. Bingley out when his wife rose and took Bingley by the arm, sweetly stating her insistence that her husband remain and finish his tea.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Mr. Darcy was taken aback by the urgency with which Bingley's sisters spoke, eagerly grasping the opportunity Elizabeth Bennet had unwittingly provided. There were important matters to convey, and, as Bingley's dearest and most influential friend, a promise to be extracted from him. He listened in silence as they related their brother's acute suffering, ascribing their own reasons to it. Elizabeth returned some minutes later to an awkwardly silent room, as though she had interrupted something. One glance at Darcy showed him to be looking impenetrably grave. The sisters rose almost immediately to thank her for her hospitality and take their leave. She did not miss the rather smug expression Caroline Bingley directed at her, but after they left, her husband answered her tactful inquiries in the vaguest possible manner before changing the subject.
Though her suspicions were raised, she castigated herself for it. How many times before had she allowed herself to jump to conclusions about him? Whatever Bingley's sisters had wanted of him, she had no reason to distrust Darcy. Having struggled with her feelings all day, she had come to the conclusion that she had behaved like a coward in their previous interactions. Though she felt vulnerable in the extreme, she had reached a decision, and was determined to see it through. All the same, she was amazed to observe how, in true human fashion, she would quickly grasp at straws to escape her own resolution. Smiling at him, therefore, she surprised him by moving to sit on his lap and greet him properly. Though he was somewhat confounded, he accepted her unspoken reassurance with relief. She kissed him with a passion that threatened to destroy his resolutions, as new ideas rapidly overtook his imagination. It was some moments before he decided it was best to distract himself with conversation. His arms still wrapped about her, he settled back and rested her head against his shoulder. He said the first thing that came to mind.
"I am surprised that Bingley called again. He knew I was out all day." He kissed the top of her head as he spoke.
"I think he wished to speak with me about Jane."
"Oh? That surprises me. He has not said a word up until now."
"I know. I had the unexpected opportunity to reassure him that Jane still cares for him and is suffering just as acutely because of his absence."
"Do you know that Elizabeth? Do you think it wise to meddle in your sister's affairs? You do not know what actually happened between them to cause their estrangement."
She sat up straight to face him. "I did not meddle, I simply allowed him to know my perception based on the letter I received this morning. And I would not have done so, if he had not first confessed that he was suffering acutely, doubting her feelings."
"I'm amazed to hear of such a frank tête-à-tête between you! I hope you are right, and it all works out for the best. I must warn you, I would not wish to see my friend hurt more than he clearly has been already."
"Well I'm sorry you disapprove, sir. Still, she is my sister and her welfare means a great deal to me. If by a few words I can save her from unhappiness, I will not let your scruples stop me."
He seemed forcibly struck by her words. Recovering himself quickly however, he smiled and drew her into his arms again. "My, my," he said, "You are fierce about your sister."
"As she would be if the situation were reversed." She thought it wisest however, to not tell him that her sister was so worried that she had offered to come and live with them indefinitely. At any rate, if Bingley took her words to heart, he would be back to Netherfield by the end of the week. She realized that she had best write Jane immediately and reassure her about Mr. Darcy. It would not do for Jane to hesitate from a misguided idea that her own happiness should be sacrificed when Elizabeth was actually fairly happy - and if all went as she planned, she would very soon be much happier.
Chapter 27
Elizabeth was simply not formed for unhappiness, and now that she had identified which thoughts and feelings were responsible for her recent downcast spirits, she promptly disentangled them, acknowledged and made peace with all that was worthy, and conveniently let go of all that was not. An entire day spent reflecting proved enough, though all her previous struggles had helped her along, and only her nervous anticipation of challenging her own fears consumed her now. She was by nature highly likely to form a bold resolution, and was beginning to grow resentful of scene after scene cut short by unlikely interruptions and moreover, deep disquietudes that she was not in the habit of possessing. If this seems improbable, if it seems that a heroine ought to suffer a great deal more before acting decisively, then nothing can be said in her defense, except that she remains the heroine in essentially a comic work. Be that as it may, she greeted Mr. Darcy's return with joy.
Their evening with the Gardiners was a highly agreeable affair. After such a miserable day, during which Darcy dwelled on his predicament with increasing grimness, Elizabeth's high spirits came as the most pleasing surprise he could ever remember enjoying. He had thought to find her withdrawn and uncomfortable in his presence when he returned in the afternoon. Since he was not by nature of such a carefree disposition himself, though by no means brooding, her seemingly changed sentiments were a little alarming to him at first. Inconsistently, her warm greeting as soon as they were alone also soothed him somewhat and he parted from her before dinner with a powerful sense of deprivation. He had trouble keeping his eyes off her when she returned downstairs to greet her aunt and uncle, for she was wearing one of her new evening gowns of a deep, rich shade that brought out her dark hair and eyes. It was cut to flatter her delicate features and light frame, and seemed to shimmer around her as she moved. He thought she looked exactly like one of the mythical creatures of ancient lore. Much to her satisfaction, he could not help but whisper to her that she looked stunning.
They held dinner in a smaller room, the table an intimate square and set for four. Their hostess' happy mood infused the whole party. She glanced at her husband beside her as he and the Gardiners engaged on the subject of women's education. With her charm fully employed to please him, she was irresistible.
"Too often," Mr. Gardiner was saying, "we expect young women to find enjoyment and edification in laborious tasks, and call that a proper lady's education."
"If I might be so bold, I must add that needlework is highly overrated as an edifying activity."
Darcy smiled at her. "What would you recommend in its place?"
"Sailing, sir. A young lady is better served by useful knots."
Her husband almost spilled the wine he was raising to his lips. She smiled with such sweetness at him as she spoke that he forgave the unholy mirth in her eye.
"Then Lizzy," replied her uncle, "would you have young ladies serve in the army as well as the navy?"
"Certainly Uncle! Think how quickly Wellington would have been properly outfitted if a woman had ordered his supplies. We are very good at stretching resources and seeing to the needs of many people at once."
Everyone laughed. "I have no doubt, Lizzy, that you are quite right. As a mother, however, I consider my main achievement to be in establishing a lasting peace, rather than finishing a war."
"Ah, but Mrs. Gardiner, once a war is begun, someone must finish it. Perhaps young ladies are suited to remaining at home after all, where their soothing talents can best be employed." Mr. Darcy could not resist baiting his wife simply to see her eyes flash in response to his challenge. He was not disappointed.
"Now Mr. Darcy, I fear you are misinterpreting my aunt. She keeps the peace between her children quite impressively, but simply because women are superior at peace, does not mean they are recalcitrant at the strategies of warfare. Why, there must be some reason you escape from London every Easter, and avoid the fashionable hour at all costs." Amused, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner regarded Mr. Darcy to see how he bore her impertinence.
He smiled indulgently at her. "Fortunately, I have an accomplished sailor to protect me now. I need never fear ambitious Society mamas or their determined daughters again."
"I hope you are not implying that I succeeded in my schemes where others failed?"
"You know very well that that is not what I am implying." He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to scheme as much as she wished and he would be her willing target, but propriety forbade such a comment before company. "You simply take delight in professing the most outrageous interpretation possible....I believe, Mr. Gardiner, that we should add barrister to the list of possible female occupations."
"Then we must add governess to men's professions. It is only fair."
"You see, Fitzwilliam, you are surrounded by radicals from Gracechurch Street and their indoctrinated niece."*
"He need not fear us though Lizzy. We will be kind when the revolution occurs, even though he is a landowner. As a woman, I will do my best for him when peace is re-established."
"As long as you do not burn down my property, I cannot complain."
"And neither will I. Though, as his wood nymph, I speak only for the trees and not the furnishings." As she spoke, she dared to reach her hand out to cover his.
Darcy caught his breath. His wood nymph. How well it sounded. He regarded her over his wineglass, hoping to ease his heated blood by imbibing the cool liquid. Elizabeth discretely moved her hand from his to underneath the table, where she rested it affectionately on his knee. He did not look at her, but focused his attention on Mr. Gardiner, asking him a few questions about his business interests, and listening attentively to his answers. That avenue finally exhausted, Darcy was grateful for Mrs. Gardiner's inquiries of family.
"Lizzy, have you heard from Jane since we last spoke?"
"Yes, I received a letter this morning. She is...keeping quite occupied and seems content enough."
"I'm glad to hear it. She must miss you terribly."
"As I do her." Darcy was regarding her sympathetically. She ran her hand lightly along his leg, causing him to jerk slightly in his chair.
"I hope that she will come to visit us this winter. Will you be in town for the season?" Mrs. Gardiner directed her eyes to Mr. Darcy, whom she noticed had become strangely silent.
"Yes," replied he, "we shall return with my sister, probably as early as February, and remain for the first month."
"You are not yet fearless enough to remain until the bitter end?" Elizabeth's eyebrow was raised in a decidedly saucy manner again, but the expression in her eyes was...pure delight...as though being in his presence made her the happiest creature in the world. He forced himself to concentrate.
"I think I could manage, Elizabeth, but I did not want to deprive you of early summer at Pemberley. However, if your sister Jane will be in London, perhaps you would wish to remain until she returns to Longbourn?"
"I would dearly love to see her as often as I may." She rested her hand on her chin and tilted her face up to his. He began to lean slightly closer to her without intending. Suddenly both seemed to recall that they had company. Darcy turned his attention to her aunt.
"Well then, Mrs. Gardiner, we may simply have to steal your guest away from you entirely." Mrs. Gardiner smiled, touched by how willing Elizabeth's husband was to make her happy. Elizabeth herself felt a little uncomfortable for a moment; she did not want to discuss Mr. Bingley with her aunt before Darcy, but she longed to convey her hope that Jane would be settled at Netherfield by the spring.
Once dinner was over, she consented graciously to her husband's request for some music. The gentlemen had followed the ladies directly to the drawing room, and she did not know whether to be relieved that the evening was moving along so quickly or disappointed at the missed opportunity to confide in her aunt. Fortunately, the Gardiners remembered how much a new couple prefers shorter evenings, and took their leave after coffee with warm thanks and an invitation to dine with them before the Darcys returned to Pemberley.
Alone with her at last, Darcy paced around the room, not sure what to say or do. Her behaviour had been highly encouraging, and if it were any other woman but Elizabeth he would have wagered his soul on how he expected the evening to end. It was Elizabeth and therefore he felt completely confused. Fearing that too much had already happened between them for one day, he surprised her when he confessed himself exhausted, kissed her chastely on the cheek, and promptly offered her his arm to retire for the evening. She accompanied him upstairs but lost her nerve as he headed to his door.
* Gracechurch Street at the time was known for some radicalism, although Elizabeth is only joking here. While I think that Austen was telling us something important about the Gardiners by telling us their street address, I don't mean to imply that she'd have them be too outrageous in their politics. They might want reforms, but not revolution. As an aside, Mrs. Gardiner's comment on Darcy ("His understanding and opinions all please me." P&P; Chapter LII) has always suggested to me that Darcy is more liberal-minded then we might be inclined to think he would be as a man of such privilege.
Chapter 28
She entered her dressing room in deep thought. This is a sad beginning! Having given Clare the evening off, she removed and hung up her dress. Perhaps he is truly exhausted. She debated with herself as she took down her hair and styled it softly around her face. Perhaps I should leave him be? Even as she thought that, she withdrew her nightclothes from the clothespress. Gossamer thin, the nightdress was a beautiful concoction of lavender silk shot through with silver threads in a delicate pattern and intricate border along hem and bodice. Thin straps widened to create filmy split over-sleeves layered on gauzy silver. The bodice plunged decided lower than anything she was used to wearing; thankfully the matching robe came up a little higher, covered her bare arms, and transformed the ensemble from almost transparent to somewhat opaque. Even so, as she stared in the glass she was tempted to take it off and forget her resolution. It seemed too provocative, too daring...she could not imagine standing before another person wearing such a thing...but she could not deny how well the colour suited her, or how the filmy material seemed to move seductively with her body. Counselling herself to get the better of her sudden nerves, she crossed her dressing room and paused, then opened the door that led to a small inner corridor. Directly across was the door to his dressing room, to her right and left the door to her bedroom and his. Feeling all the more nervous for having never entered his bedroom before, she took the few short steps to stand before his door. With a final deep breath, she turned the handle.
It must be stated that though Elizabeth Bennet Darcy was as virtuous, principled, and good a heroine as is natural, she made no pretense of possessing heroism. Though endless virtue has its rewards, not the least of which is perpetual struggle, and therefore, a longer story, some readers may be disappointed to learn that inspiring them to sublime heights was not uppermost in her mind at the moment.* And though it is a convention for heroines to wait until a declaration of love before yielding to temptation, it is by no means certain that Elizabeth considered herself to be a willing victim, since she felt she had as much to gain as Mr. Darcy. Beyond that, she can offer no excuse for her frailty except for her susceptibility to him, and a newfound determination to risk possible hurt in the pursuit of greater happiness on her own terms.
He was turned slightly from her, seated before the fire across from where she entered. He wore a heavier wool robe, held a book in his hand, and a brandy glass sat on the table next to him. He appeared to be concentrating hard, though the softest whisper as she approached caused him to look up. He unconsciously closed his book, but otherwise, he could not move. He wondered if his imagination was getting the better of him; it had certainly been battling with his ability to comprehend the written word for the last half an hour. So stunned was he by her entrance that he did not even think to get to his feet as a gentleman should.
"I ... came to..." Now that the moment was at hand, Elizabeth had no idea what to say. She blamed herself for such silliness!
Darcy regained the use of his faculties enough to rise from his chair and speak. "You've...come to?"
"To wish you a good night."
"Oh...to wish me goodnight." He repeated her words stupidly, as though trying to comprehend a language he had not studied for some time.
"Yes, to wish you a very good night." How did one say it? She could not very well blurt out that she had come to seduce him, could she.
He smiled then, and allowed his eyes to take her in from head to foot. After a leisurely glance, they darted back to her face. "Is that a new gown? I do not recall seeing-"
"- No it's not. I mean, I have not worn it before, you are correct. I - it was purchased for... I was given my choice from one of my mother's magazines for...for my wedding night."
He raised his brows. "It's exquisite."
She smiled. "I'm glad you are pleased."
He leaned slightly against his chair, aware of the powerful frissons between them. "You look beautiful, Mrs. Darcy. How could I not be pleased by something that does you such justice?"
She blushed, but refused to lower her eyes. Still, now that she had come to the point, she really wished his instincts would assert themselves and take over the entire business.
"Ah...would you like to sit down, Elizabeth? It must be a little draughty there."
She nodded and moved towards him. Darcy watched her in fascination, her ensemble providing him with all sorts of tantalizing glimpses. She could not help notice how attuned he was to her presence as she swept by him, intending to take the chair he offered. She never made it that far. Somehow, they ended up standing close to one another, her hands resting against his chest, his arms lightly around her waist. He was highly tempted to simply snatch her up and carry her to his bed, but such delicate situations called for more finesse than that; besides, he was enjoying this too much to put an end to her initiatives.
As though she read his mind, he saw her eyes stray to that part of the room.
His bed is enormous. She swallowed, trying to ease her suddenly tight throat while continuing to stare, as if mesmerized by the reality of the deep blue curtains, warm wood, and large expanse of counterpane. But physical intimacy itself had never been the significant source of her unease. Turning back to him, she implored him with her eyes; his only response was a raised brow. His right eyebrow. Even when she rested her head against his chest, he stayed unaccountably still and non-responsive. Feeling unbearably uncomfortable by his sudden reticence, she raised her chin as she decided that mere hinting would not suffice.
"Mr. Darcy ... Fitzwilliam ... I have come with the very obvious intention of ... visiting with you..."
No noticeable reaction. "Visiting with me." He sounded as though he were reciting a Latin lesson.
If she had been of a spoilt disposition she would have stamped her foot at his inconvenient obtuseness. "Yes!" Her voice reflected her exasperation. "If you must have it spelled out, then I have come to ... to ... seduce you!"
His eyes widened slightly at her blunt announcement. "I see."
"I see? Is that all you have to say? Will you not relieve my obvious distress and ... help me?"
"Help you? Why gladly, Elizabeth! I give you full permission to proceed. Seduce away."
She saw his amusement as dark eyes clashed with dark eyes. Her own narrowed slightly, and he thought she looked almost untamed; like a graceful cat turned suddenly displeased.
She ran her hands along the lapels of his dressing gown however, tentatively caressing him with her fingers. She felt his instant response and smiled, quite satisfied as she leaned closer to taunt his senses with her scent and the silkiness of her hair as she rubbed herself against him. Standing on her toes, she pressed soft slow kisses along his jaw-line before teasing each corner of his mouth in turn. Her lips hovered agonizingly close for several moments before she at last brushed them lightly against his. She could feel the tautness of his body, the erratic rising and falling of his chest. As if to ease his uncomfortable tension, she smoothed her hands over his pounding heart, then across his shoulders and all the way down his arms to his wrists, while trailing a path of more urgent kisses from chin, to throat and collarbone, and ending against his chest.
She gasped as he caught her wrists firmly and held her arms away from him. Peeking up at him, she saw that amusement had been wiped away by a deadly serious expression, a little frightening in its intensity.
"What is all this about, Elizabeth?"
She felt taken aback. Does every moment between us have to be complicated?
"I ... I told you." She attempted to place her arms around him, but he still held her wrists.
"Yes, you are here to seduce me. What I want to know is why?"
"Why?"
"Yes! Why? Only this morning you were pleading against any emotional involvement that would make you feel bound to me. Remember? I should like to know what has changed so dramatically in less than eighteen hours."
"A fair question. I'm afraid I do not have a tidy answer."
He stared at her unyieldingly, clearly displeased with such an insufficient reply.
"I think I simply needed a chance to express my fears and concerns for the future. Having done so, I do not intend to be controlled by them again."
"Do you think it wise to rush? You have only had today to...come to terms with yourself."
"Today was more of a culmination of my struggles, rather than the first time dealing with them. ...If you had rather I return to my room, then you need only say so."
"No indeed. If you truly want to be here, then I want you to stay. But are you certain about this? I had rather not be tormented by vain wishes again."
She was discouraged by his crisp tone. "If I were not certain, I would not be here...however, you are making this sufficiently difficult that I'm beginning to wonder if you are worth the bother!"
"Until you have been rejected several times, that is hardly a fair statement, madam." She bit her lip, pierced with regret knowing that she had no doubt hurt his feelings with her past emotional withdrawals. Still, she had not bargained on an argument, of all things!
He watched her long and hard, assessing her. She reached out her hand again to gently stroke his cheek. "Let us not argue, Mr. Darcy. That is no way for either party to contribute to my intended seduction."
Her words drew a reluctant smile from him. But honour demanded full disclosure. "This morning you spoke of me in rather glowing terms. Yet you also spoke less well of men in general, of which I am one. Needless to say, this has left me somewhat confused about my true status in your eyes."
"Perhaps I was too sweeping. I did not mean to be. I do not doubt the possibility of good men as you seem to think I do. ... I meant what I said this morning, I think you are a good man - a good person, I will say, if you find that more believable coming from me."
"I am more concerned that you give me too much credit. Particularly in light of all you have said about people being misguided by their imaginations. You see me as someone who does not play to his worst faults. Yet, I was indulging in my worst faults until you jarred me out of it this November. I shall never forget the debt I owe to you by calling my presumptions into question. It is not pleasant to live by thinking meanly of the rest of the world."
"And you are generous enough to forgive how unfairly I misjudged your character. ...You know, Mr. Darcy, even in my limited experience, I believe this is an odd conversation to undertake in the middle of a seduction."
"Undoubtedly. Yet we have never followed the regular course so far, so why start now?" He hesitated, somewhat pained to know what he must say next. "Before you commit to this, Elizabeth, you should know that for the last few days I have purposely set out to try to seduce you, regardless of your wishes in the matter, and only today did I understand how unfair that was."
"Oh," she considered his words, "well, thank you for telling me. However, it was fairly obvious the second morning you brought me breakfast in bed that that was what you were about. I assure you, your calculated efforts would have had no effect, if I did not already find your company ... appealing."
He could not be more flattered and relieved by her sincere words. "We are, as you said before, on an equal footing in that regard. For I myself find you extremely appealing....Does this mean that you forgive my calculations?"
"Oh yes, sir. I heartily forgive your calculations to please, woo, and seduce me, provided you promise to maintain at least a portion of such attentiveness all the years of our marriage."
"You have my word on that Mrs. Darcy. And, I believe I can do better than a mere portion, no matter how many years we are married."
"Good. That is settled. So please believe me, I'm certain about this, although I cannot possibly bear talking about such a subject for much longer."
"Well then, in that case you had better kiss me, and I will do what I can to help you along in your present ambition."
She took his advice and did kiss him. One kiss led to another before the pauses in between were non-existent. Pleased with the results of her efforts, she eventually teased along the side of his face to explore the folds of his ear. A giggle spoiled the effect and Darcy could not help but laugh as he tilted his head away from the sudden onslaught. He held her away for a moment, moved to find her smiling at him so sweetly. At last his arms came up around her and drew her tightly against him. His mouth sought hers invitingly, then with unquestionable hunger. Her presence was completely cutting up all the careful defenses he had lectured himself to create only that afternoon. Her coming to him was the fulfillment of his most heartfelt wishes, which had been almost too painful to consider after the events of the morning.
The next moment, she felt herself lifted off the floor as he swung her into his arms and carried her to his bed. He held her close, cradling her against him. She looked up into his face and felt the oddest threat of tears simply from his tender expression. Reaching out her hand, she stroked his cheek again in affection. Smiling, he leaned his forehead against her own for a moment, before his lips pressed lovingly against her temple. He lay beside her for some time, giving of himself, reassuring her, showing her his warmest affection. As he drove her to distraction with his lips nuzzling at her throat, his hand passing lightly over her gown, she found herself suspended between impatience and wonder at the sensations he evoked in her. As they slowly undressed each other, taking care to please any newly discovered flesh, she felt their equality as lovers. ...
DARCY awoke to find her curled next to him, her head tucked under his chin, her hair tickling his nose. He smiled, reminded of that first encounter long ago in what now seemed another lifetime. Since then, his life had taken a turn he had not expected, yet he really could not complain - marriage to Elizabeth Bennet had proven to be quite enjoyable thus far. He was caught off guard by the range of emotions that loving her elicited in him. He wanted to protect her; he wanted to devour her. She was his dearest companion, and yet his most challenging opponent at times. Her laughter made him smile, her impertinence at times delighted and at times inspired unholy instincts to gain the upper hand. Her vulnerability, which she took such pains to hide, moved him to gentleness as no other woman had ever done, though the depth of his feelings was cause to worry about how much power she might have over him. He indeed felt like a 'violent young lover' as Mr. Bennet had phrased it, and now that she was his wife in truth, the wilder feelings she inspired in him frightened him a little.
She was as yet sound asleep; his busy, silent musings had not disturbed her. He saw that her mouth was tucked up in a beguiling smile. He studied her eyelashes, so remarkably long, and imagined her fine eyes opening to greet him. Would she still be happy about the events of last night? He did not think he could bear it if she regretted her decision.
His mind drifted and he found himself thinking about the wider implications of their marriage. He stopped to wonder at his peers' reactions to her; many would have seen the engagement announcement. He knew she was equal to the tasks associated with her new social position, but the question of how they would treat her once they knew of her lack of connections caused him some worry. He did not wish to see the light in her remarkable eyes ever dulled or her feelings torn by ongoing cuts. So far, all but the Bingleys had been told that the Master was not at home, and at this time of year he had not run into many of his acquaintance beyond those few at the coffeehouse. Unfortunately, the world could not be held at bay forever. He caught the scent of lavender again and could not help smiling, his concerns temporarily banished. His hands wandered over her gently and he decided that he would find a way to shield her; nor was he worried about any social censure directed at him. It was a small price to pay for his personal happiness. He certainly did not regret their hasty marriage, and was even inclined to think that fate had stepped in and done for him what at the time he was unwilling to do for himself. She was his now, completely. No, not completely, he remembered with a sudden stab of pain. She had yet to love him. This morning he was more determined than ever before that she would love him in time. He would see to it. ...He awakened her with a trail of soft kisses over her face as he shifted their positions.
With a sigh of contentment, she opened her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, marveling at his very fine person. How she had refused such a handsome man for as long as she had, she had no idea. At the moment, it seemed to her incredibly shortsighted. She was a little surprised to find his kisses even more insatiable than the night before.
* Austen devotees will recognize the references to 'natural' vs. 'heroism' (' the sublime', 'virtue') - and hopefully forgive my presumption in using the contrast in such a way.
Chapter 29
After a very happy day spent alone together, during which time not even Mr. Bingley ventured to call, the Darcys agreed that they had better keep their promise to attend dinner at the Hursts, though each would secretly have preferred to remain quietly at home. They glanced at each other briefly, communicating a silent message of regret as he handed her down from their carriage and offered her his arm.
As the servant took their coats, Miss Bingley walked into the hall and hurried to greet them. "I'm afraid I have some unpleasant news. My brother-in-law saw fit to invite some members of the Horton crowd," Darcy met her gaze until, flustered, she turned to Elizabeth, "although, Eliza, most of the dinner party is composed of much pleasanter souls." Then, she looked quickly about. "Is my brother not with you?"
Elizabeth glanced from her husband to Miss Bingley. "No, Miss Bingley, we have not had the pleasure of seeing your brother at all today."
As if on cue, Mr. Bingley arrived just at that moment. His sister rushed over to him.
"Well," whispered Elizabeth, "that was kind of her to warn us. I can tell from your expression you are not thrilled with the Horton crowd, whatever that means."
"Yes, very considerate of her." He indicated Bingley with a slight nod. "I wonder what is going on with him now?"
"Perhaps he is making preparations to return to the country."
"That is unlikely."
He held out his arm to her, failing to notice her reaction to his absent-minded comment as he took in her appearance. She wore a stunning creation of midnight blue made from softest cashmere, with a slightly daring v-necked bodice, and a spilt over-sleeve that revealed a puff of white lawn at the shoulder. The gown set off her dramatic eyes and dark hair, and the narrow skirt did justice to her graceful frame. He leaned over to whisper his compliment. "You look equally fetching and regal in that dress. I don't know whether to carry you off or kneel at your feet. ...Shall we?"
Bingley joined them then, apologizing profusely for not being there to greet them, while reminding his sister in a slightly impatient tone that he had met with his solicitor late. Once they entered the salon, he stayed near the Darcys and groaned audibly when he spied some of the guests. He leaned nearer to discreetly speak to his friend. "I'm sorry, Darcy! If I had known that Horton and Novack were going to be here, I'd have given you proper advanced warning. ...There are far more people here then I expected! Louisa gave me the impression it was to be a more intimate dinner of a few close friends."
Darcy merely nodded and reassured his friend. He then stayed by Elizabeth's side and did his best to introduce her to the friendliest guests available, though he knew he was simply delaying the inevitable and that friendly was not exactly the right word to describe most of the guests. As an assembled group, they were somewhat polite, cold, rich, formal, self-important, and to Darcy's thinking, fashionably boring and sadly uncultured in the true sense of the word. They were the Hursts' friends, not Bingley's, and certainly not his own. But he said none of this out loud to his wife or friend, being too polite himself. To Elizabeth, the assembled party seemed civil enough, although during the tedious stretch before dinner, she could not help secretly tallying up the presence of several Hurst-like gentlemen, who drank a great deal and talked incessantly about cards in anticipation of the serious game planned later that evening. Nor could she fail to note that many ladies were outshone in genuine warmth by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, an irony that amused Elizabeth for a good part of the evening. The sisters complimented her on her new gown, and she could not detect even a hint of insincerity. She attracted more than one glance of admiration from the gentlemen present, although, the rumour that she was a country nobody warred somewhat with her current status as Darcy's wife.
Just moments before being called into dinner, Elizabeth noticed a tall, thin, red-haired gentleman eyeing her and Darcy with an unpleasant smile on his face. "Who is that man standing near the sofa by the window? The red-haired gentleman?"
"That's Horton."
"Ah, the infamous Horton. Why does he keep staring?"
"Because he's an a-arrogant upstart who forgets how his family made their money."
She smiled, secretly pleased to see that the formidable Mr. Darcy was in full form in response to her plight. "Perhaps he is simply overwhelmed by my beauty."
He smiled at her teasing tone. "Sadly, he's unimpressed by beauty. His talent is accurately assessing dowries at ten paces."
"Really? And who is that very beautiful statuesque woman beside him?"
"That's his wife. She ranks high in his esteem as she brought him a dowry of fifty thousand pounds."
Elizabeth's eyes widened for a moment as she considered such a sum. "Pity they look so miserable together."
"Not at all," he smiled widely, "they are in the business of being miserable, so it is only right they should look it as well."
She laughed. "You have not said how his family made their money. I hope you would not scorn honest labour?"
"No I would not." He whispered something to her and she was too shocked to speak for a moment. Darcy was not in the habit of gossiping, but he did not want her to be intimidated by the likes of Horton.
The party then headed to the dining room, and Darcy scowled as he realized that Mrs. Horton was almost across from Elizabeth - only one seat lower at table; her husband was next to her on her far side. Elizabeth at first felt she could not complain about her placement at dinner however. She was seated between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, with another young couple, the Sandersons, placed on Bingley's other side. An impoverished nobleman sat on Darcy's far side next to their hostess. He tried to divide his time equally between Darcy's party and Mrs. Hurst, but further down the table the Sandersons often ceased on opportune silences before he could say a word.
Although the Sandersons were indisputable snobs, Elizabeth had no way of knowing that from their behaviour towards her. Mr. Darcy had several times their consequence and they wanted to make a favourable impression on his new wife, regardless of the gossip they'd heard about the Darcy marriage. Introductions made, the couple chatted as politely about any number of mundane subjects as their dignity would allow. Elizabeth did her best to keep pace with their dissection of the weather, the food, the minute details of each course's likely preparation, along with a few comments on grape varieties thrown in occasionally. Conversation was further varied by Mr. Sanderson's detailed recounting of the past shooting season, and later as he waxed poetic on the coming shooting season with all its splendid promise of a sportsman's carnage.
Mrs. Sanderson began to fear that Elizabeth was a little too lively. She decided to test her true breeding by inquiring as to whether or not the new Mrs. Darcy added her cream before or after the tea, a subject that puzzled Elizabeth a great deal, as they were only on the second course by that time. After that, it seemed that any piece of trivia struck upon at random was introduced into the conversation. Darcy did his best to make these discussions interesting, but since small talk was not exactly his natural talent, there were long pauses during which he was at a total loss for words. Bingley did his duty to forward conversation between the Darcys and his dinner companions on the other side of him, but found that his attempts to be pleasant had no impact on the depth of discussion. Elizabeth was trying to be on her best behaviour but eventually succumbed to temptation. She purposely began asking for the Sandersons' opinions on the most trivial matters she could think of and amused herself with their earnest replies. Her behaviour had the surprising consequence that the couple overcame their initial misgivings of her and would later pronounce her well-bred to all who would hear them.
Darcy saw what she was about and wondered that he'd ever feared her feelings might be crushed by the likes of social climbing idiots. Clearly, she made sport of them as willingly as she had made sport of absurdities in her own neighbourhood. He did not stop to consider how truly unshakable she was, or he would have recalled that she had always remained fearless in the presence of the most haughty, difficult, and formidable of her Hertfordshire acquaintance - namely his former self.
It was not until near the end of the final course that Mr. Horton and his wife condescended to speak to the people across the table. Though they feared that interactions with the considerably less prestigious Sandersons may be unavoidable, the need to jab elsewhere had finally worn down such scruples; opportunities would be seized before lost. Mr. Horton narrowed his focus on Elizabeth. "Madam! We must congratulate Darce here on his luck at obtaining such a beautiful bride."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows as she nodded slightly in acknowledgement, but said nothing. Mrs. Horton, seeing what her husband was about, likewise turned her attention toward this end of the table, not wanting to miss the humiliation of a country upstart.
"Ah, Novack," Horton nudged the gentleman next to him further down the table, "now we see why he really married her. She is also becomingly silent." He spoke loud enough for all nearby to hear.
"Not always," replied she, "I was simply torn by the need to thank you for your sincere compliment, and the need to correct your misperception. Mr. Darcy did not obtain me, and luck had nothing to do with it."
Horton laughed. "You are either confessing that you consider him or yourself unlucky or that you must more accurately attribute your marriage to skill."
Darcy was about to jump in, but Elizabeth looked at him calmly before turning back to Horton. She likewise noticed that more people were pausing in their conversations to hear the exchange. She sensed that she had better stand her ground now or risk a future of victimization. "You are highly selective in your range of logical possibilities, sir. I hope that is not as true in general as it is in explaining Mr. Darcy's marriage."
This answer caused many to titter at Horton's expense.
"You have evaded the question, Mrs. Darcy." All eyes turned to Mrs. Horton, then back to Elizabeth.
"I must not speak for my husband." Her innocent expression drew more amused responses, and Mrs. Horton felt secretly angered at the obvious implication that she was speaking for hers. Elizabeth continued as she turned to her husband with a smile. "Mr. Darcy must account for his own reasons for marrying me."
Darcy smiled. Mrs. Horton pressed him, determined to humiliate his wife if possible. "Come, sir, was it luck, ill-luck, or skill that led to your marriage?" The hasty Darcy marriage had been grist for the gossip mills since the engagement had been announced, and everyone there knew it.
Darcy's eyes rested on Elizabeth for a moment before he turned the full power of them on Mrs. Horton. He despised having to air his personal life before such company and in such a manner, but he was glad Elizabeth had given him the opportunity to defend her before these vipers. His rich voice was heard clearly by all. "Madam, Mrs. Darcy is too modest. It was obviously both luck and skill on my part. Luck,because she finally consented to marry me, and I am truly fortunate that she did. And skill, because I managed to make my second marriage proposal to her in a manner that was satisfactory enough to convince her to accept me."
Of all the gasps that circulated around the table at this piece of information, it's arguable whose was the loudest, but Caroline Bingley gave the other ladies a run for their money. It was clear to her that she had profoundly miscalculated something. Neither could many guests miss the look that passed between the couple in question. Some were amused, the more romantic secretly moved, the more cynical appalled. The latter concluded that Darcy had really lost his senses over his wife if he were willing to open himself up to such public humiliation. Many wondered if it were true. It seemed inconceivable that any woman, let alone a country nobody, would refuse the highly eligible Mr. Darcy on a first proposal. Conversation was at an end however. Mrs. Hurst exerted herself as hostess to suggest to the ladies a timely removal to the drawing room. Darcy began to relax, knowing it could have been much worse.
For several moments he was free of harassment while he and Bingley walked about the room.
"Again, Darcy, I want to apologize for my late appearance. My solicitor and I were tied up unexpectedly."
"Regarding Netherfield?"
"Yes."
"Then you still mean to go ahead with your plans?"
"Yes."
He then discussed the matter at some length, requesting Darcy's opinion on the subject. Eventually, both men acknowledged that they had better join the other gentlemen at the table before Hurst felt slighted. Darcy took his seat, noting as he did so that Horton and Novack had moved over and were now directly across from him and Bingley.
"Well, well, Darce, that is quite the little wife you have procured for yourself."
"It's Horton, isn't it? I know we are not that well acquainted; you must have forgotten that my last name is Darcy."
Horton lacked the grace to register his own rudeness. He thought the high and mighty Mr. Darcy of Pemberley deserved to be taken down a notch, and was delighted to have found a hole in the illustrious armor. Nothing was more despicable to Horton than a snob who had failed to live up to his reputation, and Darcy's marriage to a woman without any apparent means or connections was an unforgivable slight to the virtues of wealth and rank. "Yes of course, Darcy, how absent-minded of me! Now, correct me if I am wrong, but I could have sworn you were single what, about two months ago? I do not recall seeing an engagement announcement."
"Perhaps you missed it. The Chronicle actually changes on a frequent basis."
"Oh, very witty, sir!" Mr. Novack had piped in. "You must ignore Horton, he's simply jealous. It is not every day that one must stare across the table at such a lovely young lady. Moreover, one who looks, how shall I put it? One likes to be discreet. She certainly looks very much the bride. Surely you noticed that, Horton?"
"Perhaps I did, now that you mention it. Really, Darce, I'm amazed at your sense of tradition. From what I understand, she was looking very much like your bride before the wedding actually took place."
"Surely he could have forgone the inconvenience of the conventional then?"
As furious as Darcy was, he contented himself by coolly retorting. "You both surprise me. I did not know you recognized what a happy wife looked like. Now if you will excuse me, I see some gentlemen are heading back to the drawing room. I trust you are as eager to see your own wives as I am to see mine." With that he left the room, Bingley following closely behind.
ELIZABETH found the time in the drawing room before the gentlemen appeared to be tedious in the extreme. She was certain that if one more woman laughingly told her how lucky she was to have obtained Mr. Darcy she was going to scream. She'd had enough exposure to such inanity in her life that she bore it tolerably well. Though, she could hardly disagree with their assessment that he was handsome, tall, rich and previously sought after by many. At last some gentlemen appeared and Elizabeth was truly happy and relieved to see her husband among them. The next moment, she knew an acute sense of disappointment when he was waylaid by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
At first she simply watched them for lack of anything else to do, but before long she observed her husband's eyes follow the ladies' to their brother. His expression grave, Mr. Darcy was listening keenly to whatever the sisters were saying. With another glance at Bingley, he nodded. Curious, she slowly made her way to them and happened to hear his last comment before the party realized she was standing there.
"I told you that I have and will speak to him about it, Miss Bingley. He is not anymore receptive to my concern than he is to -" His companions sudden look of alarm caused him to stop speaking mid-sentence and turn around. "Elizabeth, I did not see you standing there."
She moved forward to join their circle as she eyed each of them in turn. "I hope I am not interrupting anything important?"
"Not at all. Mr. Darcy was just listening to our scheme for an outing later in the week. Perhaps you can persuade him to take you to Vauxhall when we make our excursion there with a small group of friends?"
Though Miss Bingley spoke smoothly, Elizabeth sensed that she was lying. Darcy looked decidedly uncomfortable, but Elizabeth pushed away all unpleasant suspicions that came unbidden to her mind. Merely smiling at Miss Bingley without committing them to such a scheme, she linked her arm through Darcy's and persuaded him to take a turn about the room with her. They did not remain long after refreshments had been served, as he informed her that he had already ordered the carriage. She wondered at their leaving so early but said nothing. The idea of playing cards for the rest of the evening with such people appealed to her as little as it did to him.
Though they made it out the door without any more unpleasantness, Darcy sat in their carriage on the way home debating the implications of the evening and how best to counteract the gossip and rumours about their marriage. Now that he was a newly married man, he was expected to send around his cards to his acquaintance as an unspoken sign of whom he would continue to socialize with, and whom not. He would deliberately send one to the few people in attendance tonight who had proved themselves allies and whose company he could tolerate. He was highly tempted to not send one to Hurst.
Elizabeth watched her husband's face with some concern. "I thought the evening went well, considering."
He turned his eyes on her. "You handled yourself admirably. As for the rest, I had much rather put the memory behind us."
"I did not think it that terrible."
He stopped himself from telling her what would only upset her. The matter would be properly dealt with; she did not need to know anything more about it. He forced himself to smile as he reached across the aisle for her hand. "Perhaps not, but it is so much more pleasant to be alone with you. In fact, you are sitting far too far away, Mrs. Darcy."
She reached out her hand to meet his. "Oh, I had thought it exactly the proper distance."
"Assuming one is interested in propriety."
Tugging on her hand, he urged her towards him, but she resisted the hint. "What could be more important?"
He saw the teasing look in her eye and moved swiftly to sit beside her, his arm coming up around her shoulders. "I see I shall have to begin your instruction all over again, if you have already forgotten."
Try as she might, she could not repress her smile.
Chapter 30
"I am very glad we did not stay to play cards."
Darcy smiled and stroked her bare back. He disliked having to keep anything from her, but he was relieved that she had not asked about his conversation with Bingley's sisters. She simply cannot possibly understand the difficult position I'm in as Bingley's closest friend. No, he would have to handle the situation as delicately as possible. He was distracted from his worries by her soft kisses, and they passed another happy hour together discovering wedded joys before sleep found them.
The next day was spent indoors, mostly within the rooms that constituted the master suite, where Mr. Darcy attended to some correspondence while his wife was in her bath. Aside from bath water and food trays, the servants had practically no contact with them at all. This did not create a very great stir in the servants' hall, as it was expected that newly married couples might isolate themselves from the world. Although, many were surprised that Mr. Darcy, of all people, was proving to be a romantic.
At the moment, he was reflecting contentedly on the scene of domestic intimacy unfolding before him. She currently stood near the window, the graceful line of her back and the flare of her hips drawing his attention. She had emerged from her bath awhile ago, and still wore only a thin silk robe. Her hair was unbound and flowing down her back, almost dry from time spent sitting near the fire, where she had divided her efforts between diligently toweling her hair and working cream into her skin. Though he still held his newspaper in his hand, he had not read it at all for many, many minutes -about the time when she had first parted the skirt of her robe slightly to apply cream to each shapely leg.
Elizabeth let the lace curtain drop from her hand as she turned from the window, unapologetic for such unrefined conduct, since she was certain no one from the street could see her from such an angle. "That is the eleventh carriage since noon and it is only two o'clock."
"I did not know that counting carriages was a hobby of yours."
"A recent hobby. ...I wonder what Rapunzel counted?"
"Spinach, likely. ...If you wish, you may come here and measure me to your bored heart's content."
Laughing, she assured him that she was far from bored, then eyed him with saucy appraisal. "I believe I have already taken your measure."
He reached out for her, pulling her to him. She wrapped her arms around him as he drew her across his lap. Her eyes widened slightly. "I was merely standing at the window."
"And looking very fetching with your hair down."
"We remain ahead of the carriages."
"Ah, then you comprehend why it is necessary to keep turning callers away."
"I hope you know the Prince paid dearly for his pleasure."
"As did Rapunzel. But it all worked out in the end. ...I much prefer ebony to gold." He gathered her hair in his hand. "Where are my scissors?"
She batted his hand away. "If that is all you can think to do while we are alone, I had best get dressed and greet the nosiest of the fashionable set."
"As a matter of fact, I had something more convenient in mind." He nuzzled her throat. "Mmmm, there is nothing quite like the delectable scent of freshly washed Elizabeth." She intended to press him about his hinted at plans, but he silenced all further inquiry for a while. Then, gathering her in his arms he stood up, and carrying her across the room, tossed her carelessly onto the bed. "Wait here."
She was sufficiently curious to remain unusually obedient as she watched him disappear into his dressing room. He returned without any noticeable difference. She raised her eyebrows in question, but he simply rejoined her and began his attentions all over again. She was puzzled about why he repositioned their bodies across the bed at an odd angle, but forgot to ask as he distracted her with some strategic caresses. His lips were gentle and coaxing on hers, his hands content to simply roam over her robe for the time. She was less patient, seeking the belt of his dressing gown and pulling the material free until it covered them both. Her hands sought his bare chest, then his back and shoulders, as he settled his weight more fully against her. She wrapped her legs around him as he planted soft kisses down her throat and along the crevice of her robe. Finally, he caught her wrists in one hand and pressed them up over her head, his mouth harder on hers. Her eyes closed, she was at first completely oblivious to what he was doing. The feel of something soft brushing against her wrists caused her eyes to fly open. She stared up in shock, recognizing the snowy white material of his neckcloth.
Her eyes darted from the bedpost to his face. He was smiling down at her with an unmistakably smug expression. She strained to free her wrists, but they were firmly tied. Her eyes travelled back to his face, narrowing in her displeasure. "Very funny, sir. You've had your little joke. Now please untie me."
He raised his one eyebrow. "Untie you? Impossible, Mrs. Darcy. You are good and bound. Not to mention very appealing when you glare at me like that."
"You do not sound at all sincere in your compliment."
"Does not every lover claim to find his love attractive when she is riled? I am merely living up to your romantic expectations."
"Fitzwilliam!"
"Hmmm, It seems you rarely say my name unless one of us is tied up in knots. But don't worry, I'll slowly unwind you." Her protests were muffled by his lips, which were surprisingly aggressive, given his deceptively calm manner. When he raised his head, he saw that her eyes had darkened and her mouth was slightly parted in sensual lines. "My God, the things I want to do to you when you look at me like that."
She arched her brow, but his attention had already fallen to his hands as with some urgency he unfastened her robe. ....
AN ENTIRE DAY spent so intimately with her husband was a revelation to Elizabeth. Erotic pleasures aside, she admired him more each hour as he proved how intelligent, thoughtful and emotionally warm he could be. She felt the privilege of admittance to his most unreserved self. They spent hours talking about all manner of subjects; he told her about Pemberley, she told him about her longstanding fancy to travel and see more of England. He was delighted to know that something she truly wanted was within his power to give. They smiled at all the little similarities they discovered in each other, and embraced the differences. She was reminded again that he genuinely enjoyed her honest opinions even when they opposed his, though some subjects called for rigorous debate. She found his lack of affectation so refreshing - he seemed so solidly who he was without dishonesty. She even laughingly acknowledged to herself that she could tolerate some moments of arrogance, for she knew full well that no one was perfect.
AFTER such a happy Thursday, Elizabeth regretfully insisted they get dressed and go for a walk on Friday. Darcy reluctantly agreed that the world could not be held at bay any longer, adding that he had to meet with Bingley later in the morning and then spend the day finishing up some financial loose ends with his solicitor. They were to dine with the Gardiners again on Saturday, their last evening in London.
They said a long good-bye after an early breakfast and Elizabeth stood at the door following him with her eyes as he hurried down the steps and into his awaiting carriage. The rest of the morning was spent making preparations for their trip. There were decisions about what to pack and what to leave. Mr. Wyse had two of his master's trunks ready; the third would wait until the last minute. Clare helped to pack up her mistress' least likely required items, while Elizabeth set aside a number of gowns she was determined to part with forever. Mrs. R.II met with her briefly to review the mistress' final instructions regarding the household routine in the family's absence. André was given her preferences for food to take on the road, and a second carriage was ordered readied to travel, as she had no intention of sharing Mr. Darcy with either Mr. Wyse or Clare - the latter of whom she had decided to keep as her personal maid for the time being. Watching the clock, Elizabeth spent a hurried hour handling some final correspondence as she wondered how Mr. Darcy's day was unfolding.
She sighed as she counted five remaining notes to write to people she barely knew, and was therefore very glad when the servant announced her aunt. Expressing her pleasure on seeing her, she ordered refreshments and they sat down before the fire in the small sitting room.
"What a lovely room. So cosy."
"You haven't seen the entire house yet, have you! I'll give you a tour once you've had a warming cup of tea. This is only my temporary private room, though I'm not sure that anyone will ever wrestle it back from me. Upstairs is an equally lovely morning room, but I've ordered it cleared out so that it can be painted in my absence."
"You seem very happy and confident in your new role as Mrs. Darcy."
"I'm settling into it. Mrs. R.II is very patient and kind."
"And how is Mr. Darcy, Lizzy? Are you happy with him?"
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes brighter as she thought of him. "Oh yes, Aunt, he is truly a wonderful man. I doubt I could be happier."
"I'm glad to hear it, though I'm not surprised. It was obvious that you two were getting along well when we dined here on Tuesday."
"Things are even better now than then. Every day seems to get better, in fact."
They had their tea and continued to chat merrily, and were just about to begin their house tour when more callers were announced. Elizabeth was surprised to see Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst, and Mrs. Sanderson, but she greeted them amiably, introduced her aunt, and silently wondered again how it was that Miss Bingley was always shown in, where others were told no one was at home. She offered her new guests refreshments, which they eagerly accepted. They then all sat down, and carried on a lively conversation, carried chiefly by an unusually friendly Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Elizabeth was forced to concede once again that they could be very agreeable when they chose. She was completely at a loss to know why they chose now and her.
After sitting for some time, the ladies stood to take a turn about the room. Elizabeth found herself in conversation with Bingley's sister, while the other two ladies remained in conversation with her aunt about one of the paintings.
"I don't believe I have ever seen this room before. Miss Darcy usually receives her guests in the sitting room below. This is very lovely."
"Yes, I've grown fond of it." Elizabeth felt relaxed and was enjoying herself.
"I'm very sorry about the other night. I'm afraid Mr. Hurst has some acquaintances present that are difficult under the best circumstances. He tends to focus more on people for their dedication to cards rather than their tact in conversation ... I hope the evening was not unpleasant?"
"I had a pleasant evening." She hoped she would not be forced to say more.
"We've been deeply concerned that you and Mr. Darcy might have been offended by something someone said to you. Indeed, Mr. Hurst is even a little worried, but I assured him that if Mr. Darcy meant to send his card round to Greenwood, then he must certainly intend to send it to Mr. Hurst. After all, our families have been particularly friendly for some time."
Elizabeth was completely puzzled by this enquiry. It struck her for the first time that Bingley's sisters might actually be appealing to her to intercede for them with Darcy. Could that have been their purpose in calling? She determined to answer as kindly as she could without giving any false assurances, since she had no idea if Mr. Darcy had deliberately snubbed Hurst or not. He had attended to some correspondence briefly when she had gone for her bath yesterday. He must have arranged such matters then, for otherwise, he had been in her company the entire day.
"I'm afraid that we have been ...very busy since Wednesday. Mr. Darcy has had little time to see to such matters. We leave for Pemberley on Sunday."
"Oh yes! I had forgot it was so soon. Charles shall be quite bored until Mr. Darcy returns to London."
"I had thought Mr. Bingley might return to Netherfield before long."
"No, he will thankfully have no need to do so. Mr. Darcy has been a great help in that regard."
Elizabeth's shocked expression seemed to remind her companion of what she was about. She gasped, looked worriedly over at her sister, then hurried to explain that Mr. Darcy had offered his assistance regarding the running of Netherfield - she could not remember the details, but something to do with a problem on the land - and that his assistance spared her brother the necessity of making a trip to the estate in person. The guilt and self-consciousness accompanying such an excuse was unmistakable! No matter. The damage had been done. Though it struck her as galling in the extreme that Bingley's sisters had called to win her to their cause whilst plotting against Jane, their impudence was the least of her concerns.
She managed to keep her composure until all but her aunt had taken their leave, though her agitated mind was busily reviewing all the moments her husband had spoken of his friend. In particular, she recalled the two occasions that she had interrupted Mr. Darcy in conversation with Bingley's sisters. She had felt suspicious at the time, but wanting so desperately to trust him, she had blamed herself for harboring such wild thoughts. She was again struck by her husband's evasiveness on both occasions. And there had been no doubt that Bingley was the topic of conversation a mere two days ago. She had followed with her own eyes the direction of her husband's look as he nodded his agreement with his companions. Was he agreeing with them on the necessity of meeting with Bingley to persuade him to remain in London? Was that the purpose of his call today? She felt sick at the thought of it.
How blind she had been! She had heard Darcy's comment with her own ears when she walked up behind him to join their company. But she had willfully refused to hear the damning meaning in his words. What was it he had said to Miss Bingley before he had detected his wife's presence?
I told you that I have and will speak to him about it, Miss Bingley.
Had he, behind her back, been counselling Bingley all along to avoid Netherfield and Jane? She struggled frantically to find another possible meaning. Could Bingley's sister have been speaking the truth, that Darcy had given his friend advice about estate business? But if so, then why Darcy's secrecy? Why his evasion? If it were merely an estate matter, surely he could have honestly answered the enquiries Elizabeth had made after their callers had left the other day? With a sinking feeling she recalled his absent-minded remark when, standing in the Hursts' entrance hall, she had suggested Bingley might be making plans to return to Netherfield. Mr. Darcy had, without hesitation, asserted that it was unlikely - as though he knew it as a fact!
She leaned heavily against the door to her sitting room, just vaguely registering that she had bid these unwelcome callers goodbye and they were finally gone. Her aunt had taken a seat and was watching her with a certain apprehension. Elizabeth's thoughts whirled madly, fixing only on the facts that further corroborated her terrible theory. She remembered their exchange, when she had asked him about Bingley in this very room the night he had called unexpectedly. Darcy had stated firmly that he would reveal nothing to her if his friend should confide in him. Now she saw how else she might interpret such words. Was he not warning me to expect no help from him? He would act according to what he thought was right as Bingley's friend, regardless of her feelings on the subject. Wife or not, he had acted as though he owed her no explanations and no allegiance. ...
As she forced herself to take a seat opposite her aunt, she struggled to remember his reaction after her interview with Bingley. She recalled his displeasure as he questioned her actions.
Do you know that, Elizabeth? Do you think you should meddle in your sister's affairs? You do not know what actually happened between them to cause their estrangement.
Could it be that even then, Mr. Darcy thought he did know? Though he had added that he hoped it all worked out for the best, he had also warned her that he would not stand by and see his friend hurt more than he had already been. Had that been the moment that he decided to act according to his own dictates? She remembered that he had been affected by her own pronouncement that she would not let his scruples stop her. Had he adopted a similar attitude? Yet she had never acted in a duplicitous manner. Clearly he had. He knew exactly how I felt and he knew that Jane cared for Bingley because I told him so. Yet he apparently went ahead anyway and helped Bingley's sisters separate him from Jane. Whenever he began to interfere matters not. I have been willfully naïve to fail to see that he has interfered in some way! Here was the Darcy of old! Here was the arrogance and lack of feeling she had long ago attributed to him. The pain of these realizations was acute.
Then, as the full magnitude of the evidence against him washed over her again, she burst into tears.
"Lizzy, what on earth has happened?"
It was some time before Elizabeth could speak. Though she was too upset to relate all the details, she confirmed Mrs. Gardiner's suspicions that her present distress was the result of Elizabeth's tête-à-tête shortly before her callers took their leave. Eventually, she even managed to convey that the matter involved Mr. Darcy and that his duplicity was such that Elizabeth could not remain another moment under his roof. Though Mrs. Gardiner had her doubts, she could not refuse her niece's request to remove to her house, reasoning that little would be served by leaving Elizabeth alone in such a state.
Her niece hastened upstairs to her dressing room, where she grasped her small trunk, ignoring all pleasant and unpleasant associations with it. She packed up a supply of clothes, selecting the ones she had intended to give away. Elizabeth Darcy had no need of them, but Elizabeth Bennet did! Then, because she was who she was, she wrote her husband a brief note, which explained her reasons for removing to the Gardiner's house, its impersonal tone belying her acute distress at such a decision. She left it on his pillow and fled his room after one painful backward glance. Then she fled his house entirely.
Chapter 31
An angry, distracted Mr. Darcy was shown into the Gardiner's drawing room where, until the master of the establishment appeared, he paced as violently as a reasonable man might be expected to do. Now, as he relived the moment of reading her accusations against him, he felt his chest constrict painfully. The same feelings of desolation swept through him, to be followed by more anger, then painful loss and even fear. This whirlwind of feelings had not ceased since he discovered her note an hour before.
"Is my wife here?"
One look at him, and Mr. Gardiner urged him to sit down. For though his outward manner was controlled, the look in the man's eyes bordered on the wild. Mr. Darcy disdained that simple courtesy. "I will not be put off by you sir. I demand to see my wife immediately."
Mr. Gardiner had no choice but to summon Elizabeth. He was not surprised though, when she refused to see her husband. Her tearful arrival hours before had forewarned of such a stance.
At her refusal to appear and hear him out, the first dents in Mr. Darcy's armor began to appear. He seemed to grow angrier, and could not speak for a full five minutes while he struggled to gain control of his emotions. Still, he was not about to be gainsaid. Composing himself, he turned from where he'd been standing at the mantel, and met Mr. Gardiner's eyes square on. Mr. Gardiner knew a moment of unease, though he tried to remind himself that Mr. Darcy was, thus far, a friend.
Drawing himself up to his full height, Darcy repeated his position. "I warn you, regardless of her failure to appear before me now, I have come to collect my wife and will not be leaving the premises until I've done so."
If he had believed for a moment that Mr. Darcy was the type of man to harm his wife, then nothing would have compelled Mr. Gardiner to cooperate with him. Yet all along he had seen nothing except genuine respect and adoration from Darcy towards Elizabeth, and he thought highly of the man's character in general. He had the added assurance from Elizabeth on her arrival that Mr. Darcy had not harmed her, and Mrs. Gardiner confirmed that their niece had heard something about her husband which upset her greatly. Whereupon, Elizabeth had expressed outrage at her husband's apparent arrogance and duplicitous nature, and had shortly thereafter dissolved into angry tears.
"You must understand my position, Mr. Darcy. I like you a great deal, and do not wish to interfere between a man and his wife. Yet, I am excessively fond of my niece and must guard her welfare. You are too angry at the moment. Calm yourself, and I will not stand in your way to speak with her. Indeed, I think you two must speak, for it is obvious that there has been a terrible misunderstanding. However, I urge you to put aside your own sense of injury and be gentle in dealing with her. My niece has been crying all day." His words seemed to pierce Mr. Darcy, for he looked instantly pained at the knowledge of Elizabeth suffering. It disturbed him greatly to think that Miss Bingley had upset her so. The fact that Elizabeth had shown absolutely no confidence in his character by believing false assertions had hurt him deeply however, and he could not quite keep the bite out of his voice as he remembered her betrayal.
"You are correct about the facts, sir. There has been a misunderstanding - all owing to your niece's desire to believe someone else's slanderous reports regarding my character, rather than asking me to my face. A female person, moreover, who has set out on more than one occasion to bring unhappiness to your niece, simply out of jealousy."
Mr. Gardiner raised his brows at that. "I am surprised by this information. Elizabeth is usually too level-headed to be so naive...but perhaps her feelings for you have made her more vulnerable than she likes?"
Darcy's anger seemed to abandon him at that calm assertion, and with a deep sigh, he sat down to answer more civilly. "I wish that were the reason, sir. I fear it is not. Your niece did not wish to marry me; I believe you are acquainted with the circumstances?" Though he spoke calmly the sudden desolation in his face was obvious.
Mr. Gardiner nodded. Then he did the only thing a gentleman could do to show his compassion. He poured Mr. Darcy a stiff drink and patted him on the shoulder as he handed it to him. "I think you are wrong, Mr. Darcy. Though I know that your marriage began as one of convenience, or I should say, necessity, my niece cares for you, I am convinced. I believe she cares for you a great deal. Why else would a normally sensible girl behave so foolishly?"
It was the most hopeful thing Mr. Darcy had heard all day.
Chapter 32
As her uncle had reported, Elizabeth wept bitter tears of disillusionment off and on all day. To find out that after all this time, after everything they had shared (she blushed to recall some of them) he must have secretly thought her family - Jane - beneath his friend! She felt a complete fool.
She was just forming a resolution to remain at her Aunt's for a few days to put some distance between Mr. Darcy and herself, when the man himself appeared at her door. At the sudden shock of seeing him, she attempted to quit her dressing room through the servant's door. He hurried forward to stop her, inadvertently tripped over her small trunk, and tumbled to the floor. He stretched out flat and stared up at the ceiling, as though resigned to such a fate.
She rushed to him, her bitter disillusionment temporarily forgotten. "Are you all right?"
"Why the devil is that thing always under foot!"
She could not help a small smile at his exasperated outburst. "Well, where else do you expect to find it but in a dressing room?"
"I think I shall consign it to the wine cellar when we arrive at Pemberley."
"I am not going to Pemberley with you on Sunday!" She began to move away from him towards the door.
His hand shot out and halted her by capturing her ankle. "You will go wherever I wish you to go, Mrs. Darcy." At her gasp, he recollected Mr. Gardiner's advice, but could not stop his voice from remaining harsh; neither would he release her. "I did not conspire with Bingley's sisters against your sister."
"Do not ... do not deny what you have done!" She stared down at him, feeling anger and the threat of embarrassingly pitiful tears all at the same time. "I saw you plotting together with my own eyes, though I tried to dismiss it, fool that I was. Then Mrs. Hurst let slip that you were assisting them in keeping their brother in London! What could be your possible motive except to keep him from Jane?"
Darcy sat up, still maintaining his grip on her. "And you believed her! Thank you for your confidence in my character. Well, as a matter of fact, madam...did you say Mrs. Hurst? Then ... Miss Bingley did not speak to you directly about it?"
"No, she did not."
Darcy was at a loss. Though Mrs. Hurst was desirous of preventing her brother's marriage to Jane, and though she had undoubtedly recently conspired to embarrass Elizabeth, he did not think she would out-right lie to cause trouble between the Darcys. Without a proper culprit in the form of a vindictive Miss Bingley, he did not know how to understand the misunderstanding that had occurred.
I wish I could say that Caroline Bingley was the contemptible cause, due to a general lack of goodness, but the guilt actually lay at the feet of her older and slightly thoughtless sister, Louisa. For, despite their superior airs, superciliousness, and their unreasonable attempts to separate Bingley from Jane, carelessness remained the more significant family failing than spite. Louisa Hurst had by no means meant to cause a rift between the Darcys. She had actually meant to insinuate herself more with Mrs. Darcy when she'd paid her call.
They continued to stare at each other with open anger.
He spoke first. "Since you have seen fit to condemn me, I should like to hear the evidence that compelled you to flee from our home, rather than to stay and work out the matter like a responsible adult."
She bit her lip.
"Well, let us hear what you have to say, Mrs. Darcy! Beginning with what Mrs. Hurst told you." He would not let go of her ankle.
She hesitated, her own convictions weakening in the face of his, yet she remained stubborn as she stared down at him, her arms folded across her chest like an irate governess. "Very well. She said she was thankful that her brother would have no need to return to Netherfield, and that you had been a great help in that regard. Do you deny that you have done it?"
"I helped Bingley sort out an estate matter. That is likely all she meant."
"If you did not interfere on behalf of his sisters, and attempt to keep Bingley in London, then why did Mrs. Hurst look so guilty when she tried to cover up her slip by..." She raised her chin to compensate for her untimely recollection. "...By - by saying you were helping with an estate matter?" Her voice faded as she spoke those last thoughts.
"I have only claimed my innocence, I cannot speak for hers."
She wanted to believe him. With his compelling presence before her, she wondered at her impetuous actions in leaving rather than waiting to hear him out. His explanation was corroborated by what Mrs. Hurst had said. She began to feel like a foolish girl fresh from the schoolroom. Yet doubts lingered. "You were evasive after they called here earlier in the week. True or not?" Flippancy had always been one of her confidence-boosters.
"True." He did not deign to recognize her impertinence. "They called with the express purpose of winning me to their cause. I refused to accede to their wishes."
"I recall Miss Bingley's smug expression when she left."
"I cannot account for Miss Bingley's disposition ... I did promise to speak with her brother to see if I could draw him out about what was bothering him. And I kept that promise. I fail to see how that makes me guilty of anything but being a good friend."
"Then why did you evade my questions after they left?"
"Because it was a delicate situation and I did not want to get drawn in to more demands, not even yours. You fail to comprehend the difficult position I have been in as Bingley's friend, trying to get him to talk about whatever had happened, yet at the same time, sidestep the agendas of everyone else around me, even though none of you were in full possession of the facts." She could see the anger flash in his eyes and felt the justice of his accusation.
He watched her struggle play over her features. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that despite Elizabeth's incomparable character, she was still very young and vulnerable in matters of the heart. In a warmer voice, he spoke again. "Today I gave Bingley my opinion on what he ought to do, it's true. Perhaps you would care to hear the whole story, rather than assume you know it?"
She nodded her agreement. Her arms were still folded, perhaps more defensively now.
"Let me just say that I deplored keeping anything from you, Elizabeth. I am relieved to be finally telling you what underlay any evasiveness on my part. The only reason I have kept silent for so long about certain things was to spare your feelings about what neither of us could control, and to keep the peace between the two families, since I thought there was still a possibility they may be united at some point in the future. But I see that has cost me your trust, so you shall know all."
He waited for her to absorb that information, pleased with her growing look of contrition.
"To begin with Mrs. Darcy, on arriving in London, Bingley's sisters presented all the apparent evils of such a connection as they claimed a marriage to your sister would present, and insisted that Miss Bennet did not care for him in the least - that he had mistaken her general pleasantness. To me they claimed that their brother was now suffering as a consequence of Jane's indifference."
"That is outrageous! No one who saw them together could doubt their mutual affection."
"Bingley is naturally modest, so it would not be unreasonable to suppose that he might doubt it if the concern were put to him - but he had other reasons to doubt the constancy of your sister's feelings, as you shall know shortly. As for my part in the matter, I spoke to Bingley earlier today as his sisters requested I do. But I did not accede to their wish that I unduly influence him with regard to Jane, anymore than when I last broached the subject with him. In fact, I have steadily refused all along to influence him either way." He met her eye with a haughty expression, once again daring her to be angry that he had not acceded to her wishes either.
"I am also very surprised that you would think me plotting with them," he added, "considering that I have deliberately thrown them on your mercy for their outrageous conduct Wednesday. Whether or not Bingley's sisters continue on an intimate footing with this house is entirely up to you."
Though Elizabeth was somewhat puzzled by what he meant about their conduct, part of his assertion was confirmed by Mrs. Hurst's earlier concerns. "You did not send your card to Hurst ... I was somewhat surprised to hear that."
"Ah, so they called to get into your good graces!"
"I certainly had that impression at the time, up until -"
"Up until you thought me disloyal enough to conspire with people who had deliberately set you up the other evening."
"Set me up?" He watched as dawning comprehension suffused her face. "Oh! I cannot believe how little discernment I've shown of late! That did not even occur to me. I've been a complete idiot."
"Perhaps. At least you are a charming one." His words were softened by his smile, but she was hardly comforted. "You could have no way of knowing what they were about, Elizabeth. That is my fault, for unwittingly protecting them in my effort to protect you. Anyone familiar with those circles would have known the dinner arrangements were intentionally devised to cause you distress."
"No, you're right, I had no way to know that."
"With regard to your accusation that I unduly influenced Bingley to remain in London, I swear that up until today, the only advice he sought from me was concerning a problem of proper drainage on some of the farms at Netherfield, a matter needing attention before spring. I imagine that is what Mrs. Hurst alluded to so carelessly, though only she really knows what she meant. Bingley wanted to know if I thought the cost involved was worth the investment when he was uncertain how long he would retain the lease. I recommended someone who could travel there to assess the matter for him. I will not bore you with the reasons for my advising him to make the improvements based on that assessment. Bingley met with his solicitor Wednesday to arrange the financing of his plans. Mrs. Hurst knew all about that, I'm sure..."
"When it came to the subject of your sister, he had been as closed with me as with everyone else. It was not until today, after I insisted he talk to me about it and would brook no refusal, that he finally did. For the record, I reassured him that though I did not know the precise state of Miss Bennet's feelings, as I am far more observant than his sisters it was unlikely they could know what I did not. I suggested he return to Netherfield, speak to her honestly, and judge for himself. I further added that, if he were convinced she returned his feelings, he'd be a fool if he allowed the woman he loved to escape his grasp - and a greater fool if he allowed a dearth of money, connections, or ... sensible family members... to stand in his way."
"You ... told him all that?"
"I most certainly did." He finally released her ankle and folding his arms across his chest, unconsciously matching her stubbornness. "And if you don't believe me, then we will travel to Longbourn, rather than Pemberley, so that I may prove my innocence. For he is likely at Netherfield by now."
"Oh," she said, and dropped down beside him on the carpet.
"'Oh'?" he repeated. "That is all you have to say! I think all my good works at least entitle me to a more satisfactory apology than that." He had, she realized, been the only one in the whole business to be up front, rather than act misleadingly in the cause of someone else's love life.
He could see the tears shining in her eyes as she regarded him. "I am wholeheartedly sorry for accusing you so unjustly, Mr. Darcy, and even happier to know that I was wrong! I do believe you, most emphatically. Please ... I beg you will forgive me." Her tears began to flow down her cheeks and she wondered how it was possible that she had any tears left after such a dreadful day.
He regarded her silently, his expression unreadable.
At last she worked up the courage once again to seek his forgiveness. "I'm sorry, so very sorry! I should have trusted you! I don't know what possessed me to ever doubt you. It is just that I kept feeling uneasy and eventually all the instances I had wondered about built up to a picture of, of -"
"Of betrayal." He sighed as he handed her his handkerchief. "I will take my share of the responsibility for that. If I had not been evasive, you could have asked and your fears been put to rest."
"Most of the responsibility is mine, sir. I should not have run away, you are right to reproach me for that. In my defense, it was my intention to return to you after I had sorted myself out, though I was resolving on remaining here a few days more to do that. I had no intention of remaining estranged forever. We are married after all, and I do not take that commitment lightly. ...I suppose I thought my worst beliefs had been confirmed, not the least of which was the fear that such happiness as I have felt with you could not last."
She brought her arms up to encircle his neck as she spoke, but he gently held her wrists and pulled her hands away from him.
"There's more you need to hear to clear the air. Neither I, nor his sisters, nor anyone it seems, knew half of what was going on with Bingley and Jane, except the two of them. After my bout of altruism, Bingley, in complete despair, assured me that I didn't understand anything. He then confessed that the reason he felt compelled to stay in London was not because his sisters were at him to do so in their attempts to separate him from your sister. Rather, he remained here as a penance and on a mission. Your sister had expressed her concern for you the night of the ball. His dark mood that first evening he dined with us was the result of their unhappy exchange before they parted. It seems Mr. Bingley wanted to announce their engagement at the ball -"
"What!" Recollecting herself, Elizabeth urged him to continue.
"- Then your sister refused to go forward with it until she was certain you would not need her. She intended to offer herself as a companion to you if you found your situation unbearable - and remain so for a lifetime, if need be. Ah, I see from your expression that you were aware of all this. ...Apparently, she feared that you might not easily come to regard me and that I might lack the patience required, or that I would be displeased by your general sauciness. These seem to be common misapprehensions about my character."
Elizabeth barely managed to repress yet another surprised exclamation. She recalled Jane's cryptic claim that she could not blame Bingley if he had lost interest in her. "I don't understand though! She thought well of you right up until we left. She thinks well of you still. What could have put these concerns into her head? My sister is not given to fantastical ideas. She's eminently stable."
"Who knows? Perhaps my jealous outburst when I saw you with my cousin? She certainly observed my anger before your return. I suppose I might have seemed a little forbidding. Or perhaps, the pleasant impression I originally made on the entire neighbourhood led to general speculations about your future and caused her to worry?"
Elizabeth had to smile at his ironic tone. "That sounds plausible. The first impression you make tends not to be your best. ...and it would be just like some of my neighbours to be wishing me well on the one hand, whilst enjoying gloomy speculations on the other. That would be all it took to work on Jane's tender heart, especially since she felt remorse for her initial reaction to our engagement."
"In the Netherfield library, Jane told Bingley she blamed herself for not protecting you; that she should have insisted on another solution rather than marriage. She felt that at the very least, she needed to follow you to London to find out for herself if you were being treated as you ought. Though he vouched for me, he vowed to go in her place and insisted that she remain at Longbourn. And he was bitterly hurt to learn that his sweet Jane could be quite intractable when she thought herself right, and would not agree to announce their engagement until she knew you were happy - that she was, in fact, putting your welfare above theirs. He also began to wonder if Jane blamed him for the whole situation, since it was he who assigned you to the wrong room at Netherfield. Though she assured him that was not the case, he continued to fear that was her real reason for putting the announcement off. Needless to say, Mr. Bingley has never felt so miserable before, or suffered so much for his native carelessness."
"Dear Jane!...This explains then, his unhappy insistence on guarding us almost daily. Yet I thought I had cleared all this up with him when we had tea together on Tuesday!"
"Mmmm, yes well, it seems Bingley thought you were speaking of me and you, not him and Jane."
"Oh!"
"Working to keep Bingley here was also the fact that, deep down, Bingley has blamed himself for our hasty marriage and feared having caused me great unhappiness. I reassured him on that point."
"What ... what did you tell him?" She suddenly felt vulnerable. He had never yet expressed his feelings on the subject of their marriage, and though she knew that he cared for her, she feared raising her hopes too high.
"I told him that he had no reason, on my behalf, to regret what had occurred. And since that was the case, I expected him to stop hovering over me and get on with the business of being happy in his own life." Still holding her wrists, Darcy knelt before her; successfully willing her to meet his eye, he continued softly. "In fact, I assured him I have never been happier, as I ardently admire and love my wife."
She smiled even more luminously than before, but once again, Mr. Darcy's hold on her wrists prevented her from embracing him. Puzzled, she leaned back and waited.
"There was only one point on which I could not have satisfied his curiosity, if he had asked." When she said nothing, he continued, searching her face as he spoke. "Are you not going to ask me, Mrs. Darcy, about which point that may be?" Before she could answer him, he rushed on, as though he needed to leap over a steep obstacle before he lost his nerve. "On the subject of love and our marriage, I could not have told him if my wife felt the same way."
That she loved him was unquestionable. Seeing real anxiety behind his bravado, she exerted herself to speak of all that she felt most deeply and had long felt for him. She managed it almost coherently, though the soft look that came over her face was enough to answer all his spoken and unspoken questions alike. "I have been so caught up in simply feeling, that I have failed to tell you what those feelings are, but I shan't shy away from acknowledging them to you anymore. I love you beyond all sense, reason, and proportion, Mr. Darcy - though, nothing could be more reasonable and just then my love for you, since you are by far, the most inspiring man to love. What I really mean is ... that I am completely besotted - and it frightens me -nothing I have ever felt for anyone else even comes close to what I feel for you - not in terms of admiration, respect, nor even tenderness of feeling. And having imagined my life without more of what we have thus far shared, I have never been more miserable. So you see, I am definitely in love with you - even beyond acting sensibly - which all things considered, is quite an accomplishment on your part, for I am normally very sensible."
The happiness which her words produced was far beyond anything Darcy had ever felt before. Elizabeth was finally permitted to wrap her arms around him as he drew her to him for a tender kiss. "I believe I was in the middle before I knew I had begun, sir. You are quite sneaky in being so irresistible." After Darcy has bestowed several more appreciative kisses, she drew back a little to meet his eye. "You should also know that you are everything I have ever hoped for in a lover, a friend, and a partner in life, and I have spent the day in agony apart from you. I never want us to be parted again - not for any reasons - even practical ones. Though, I promise I will restrain these mad impulses somewhat, and not follow you around, or become annoyingly coy, or hang on your every word as I have often seen done. I love you after all, and it is therefore my duty to challenge you on occasion, or at least to cause you some trouble."
He smiled at this typically touching and funny Elizabeth speech. "I am depending on that, Elizabeth. And it will not be possible for you to follow me around, because I intend for us to remain side by side in all things. I too have never loved anyone as I love you, or felt such agonies because of it, so we are off to a good start."
"Yes, and you have completely and irrevocably worked your way into my heart and thoughts. Have I mentioned that yet? All past considerations of romance now seem laughable in the face of what exists between us. There is absolutely no comparison! Why else would it be so overwhelming? I promise you that from now on, I shall never question it again. And I believe I am beginning to repeat myself, and even, to sound like a sentimental, lovesick heroine. A clear violation of all your most cherished aesthetic principles. This will never do!"
"You need not distress yourself. The situation is a perfectly balanced composition, at least. We are both in danger of becoming sentimental. For loving you is the truest fact of my life, and words are terribly inadequate."
"It was my intention to tell you of my feelings this evening, but then, as you see, I behaved like a spooked deer instead. That alone ought to convince you of the magnitude of my feelings, since even your most haughty conduct has never had the power to affect me as the tenderness of my regard for you has done."
Such confessions naturally led to more absolution in the form of even more passionate kisses. After several pleasant moments engaged thus, with a mischievous smile she pulled away from him slightly again. "Mr. Darcy?" He waited. "Do you not think my trunk creates the most convenient mishaps?"
Mr. Darcy smiled widely in that devastating manner she adored, and exhibited his whole-hearted agreement, adding in a whisper that where words failed to express human sentiment, fortunately there were always actions. After that, there were no more words between them for awhile, though in the process, the trunk was unceremoniously pushed aside.
The Gardiners remained in anxious suspense for a little longer. When the younger couple reemerged downstairs about an hour later, their smiles said everything that needed saying.
Epilogue
With the greatest joy, Mr. Darcy escorted his bride to all the comfort, elegance and convenience of Pemberley, where they immediately resumed their warm conversations, lively debates, and occasional quarrels, frequently disappearing together behind locked doors for happy resolution of any of the above. Georgiana met and quickly learned to love her new sister, though she was at first highly alarmed by Elizabeth's playful, challenging manner of dealing with her husband. Mr. Darcy did not seem to mind however, and Georgiana readjusted her formula for a happy marriage enough to include occasional impertinence from a wife as a necessary ingredient.
The Gardiners accepted Darcy's invitation and stayed at Pemberley during their summer tour. They became as dear to Darcy as they were to their niece and remained on the closest terms, both in Derbyshire and in London. Mr. Bennet never did inflict Lydia and Kitty together on the Darcys, though each visited there at times. Kitty became less petulant, Lydia more restrained and both less silly. Each married respectably in time, though both always remembered a redcoat with great fondness. Mary eventually married as well, and she remained in Meryton where her husband took over her Uncle Philips' practice.
Mrs. Bennet did not grow more sensible, though having no more daughters to marry off, she found that visiting and news was not really enough activity to employ her time. She took up reading more seriously, and once begun, progressed from romances to histories and then to philosophies. Thus, when she visited Pemberley, she was not nearly as irritating to her son-in-law, though her grasp was no sharper than her daughter Mary's. With so much now in common, mother and middle daughter became great companions.
Elizabeth's father found himself drawn away from home by her removal to Derbyshire more often than anything else could do; he missed her, was pleased to see his dearest child so beloved, and was quite impressed with Darcy's library. The latter sentiment remained the only thing he had in common with his wife beyond their children.
Charlotte Lucas failed in her attempt to secure Mr. Collins, since he never returned to Longbourn to find a wife. The scandalous circumstances of his cousin's marriage had frightened him off, and loyalty to his offended patroness led him to promptly withdraw the offered olive branch to those who had dared displease her. Consequently, Mr. Collins never did marry, and thus this tall, heavyset, foolish young man died young without an heir. Longbourn reverted back to Mr. Bennet, with all five daughters becoming co-heiresses. Deprived of a respectable establishment, Miss Lucas visited Pemberley where she met and was forced to settle for a handsome, affluent, and loving husband who swept her off her sensible feet, in keeping with the romantic ideals she had never possessed. Thus, she and Lizzy travelled in similar circles and met regularly. Even Miss Bingley married well, though he was luckily so sufficiently unlike Mr. Hurst that she eventually dropped her obsession with Mr. Darcy and directed it to her own husband instead. Louisa Hurst was also fortunate despite being careless, in that Mr. Hurst's indolent habits left her a very rich young widow; such a single state remained her preference and she gloried in her newfound freedom to eat plain dishes, drink only tea, and avoid cards at all costs. Mr. Wickham sank into the obscurity that one would wish all villains might sink. His charms became increasingly desperate, transparent, and hollow - which happens as shallow, impudent people age - until only a Mrs. Younge, a longstanding loyal acquaintance, could bear him.
Much to Darcy and Elizabeth's joy, Bingley and Jane overcame their guilt enough to marry and be as happy as their sunny dispositions could allow, which was quite a lot. After a year at Netherfield, they bought a home less than thirty miles from Pemberley. Each couple's happiness was now as complete as real life fiction ever affords it to be.