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Chapter 32
Elizabeth's life began to flow back to normal with walks and gossip the main feature of her day. As the first week at Longbourn wound to a close, she was able to see the true spirits of her sister and it was impossible to miss her overwhelming melancholy. She simply had no interest in anything, yet persisted in statements of improved morale and pleasure. Even Mrs. Bennet, whose sensibilities were often missing, was aware of Jane's mood and spoke to Elizabeth of it and Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had no choice but to tell her mother that she was sure Mr. Bingley would not reside at Netherfield again. Mrs. Bennet was staunchly defensive of her daughters and saw no hesitation in stating her dislike of Mr. Bingley and his behaviour and Elizabeth knew that her mother was right considering what she knew of his actions.
Mrs. Bennet also wanted news of Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their home and Elizabeth could only state what she knew, that they lived quietly and well. Any talk of the entail could not be discussed so she could not enlighten her mother on that score.
By the second week at home, the imminent removal of the regiment was all that anyone could think of in Meryton or Longbourn. That is except Elizabeth and Jane who had more pressing thoughts of gentlemen to occupy them. For Lydia and Kitty the loss was extreme and they behaved as any young girls do when what they consider the main source of their society is to be ripped from them. Elizabeth heard every word and saw every failure more acutely than she had ever thought possible and his letter, Mr. Darcy's letter, sprang to her mind at every turn and she lived and breathed his words about her family. How could she have only seen his prejudice instead of his truth?
Her first encounter with Mr. Wickham after her return brought on a rush of feeling that left her a little overwhelmed. She watched as he sauntered and simpered to everyone present and she found it extremely difficult to endure his greeting. He was as suave as ever but now she had the fortune of seeing the furtive look in his eye as he moved in their society. He had reached such a degree of confidence that he felt it needless to hide such fawning. To add to her displeasure she soon realised that he felt no qualms in hinting at his return of preference for her, now that Miss King had left the district. Elizabeth was disgusted at him and weary of attempting courtesy and she very frequently felt the mistake in agreeing to keep his actions to herself. He was plainly loathsome. What added to her discomfort were Mr. Darcy's words and his instant disbelief when she had defended Mr. Wickham that evening. She blushed continually as she thought through it all. She had truly hurt Mr. Darcy in a way that very few people could.
She had almost endured the week leading up to Mr. Wickham's departure with the regiment when Lydia arrived home with news that destroyed Elizabeth's proposed peace entirely. Mrs. Forster, the wife of the regimental Colonel had invited Lydia to Brighton with them. Elizabeth was mortified. To have her youngest sister run around the country in pursuit of officers was humiliating and she sought support for this from her father. Her words were for him alone as she stated the impropriety of such a trip and how the behaviour of her sisters could not help but affect them all. However, Mr. Bennet had reached an age and a situation where he failed to see his daughters as they truly were. To him, Lydia and Katherine were simply impulsive and no serious harm ever came from that. He had also failed to see the change in Elizabeth. He had not taken the time to see that she no longer felt enjoyment from mere humour and clever words. She now sought a maturity of thought that had left her father behind and just as he did not understand her, she understood him too well. Nothing she said would dissuade him and although he did not see her reason for such determination, he did feel her distress and sought to soothe her by stating that it would be best for them all to have Lydia happy.
Of course, the family knew nothing of this discussion and Elizabeth withdrew into her own purgatory. She was sure that Colonel Fitzwilliam at least would hear of her sister's being in Brighton and thus Mr. Darcy would have more evidence of her family's misdemeanours. She had now only to endure the last occasion with Mr. Wickham as he dined at Longbourn with the officers. Elizabeth had had enough and was determined to leave him with no doubt of her feelings and in an effort to dislodge his confidence she told him of the presence of the Colonel and Mr. Darcy at Rosings while she was there. His feigned indifference was clever but Elizabeth saw right through it and proceeded to give him details of the tenure of Mr. Darcy's stay and the frequency with which they were in company. His test came when he compared Mr. Darcy's manners with his cousin's and waited for her reply. Elizabeth was aware of his games and agreed, with the addition that Mr. Darcy proved better and better as time went on.
He was surprised and a little shocked and quickly asked if she meant that he became simply more civil as nothing else about him could improve. Elizabeth knew she had hit her mark and felt great pleasure in assuring him that the fundamentals of Mr. Darcy were as good as ever. Mr. Wickham now became wary, unsure of where her meaning lay and Elizabeth sought to elaborate by saying that as she grew to know Mr. Darcy, she understood him much better. She now had Mr. Wickham in a state of anxiety and his colour increased as he composed himself.
He turned to her after some minutes with a speech on his joy that Mr. Darcy had managed to appear affable even if it was only done at his aunt's residence, no doubt to ensure the success of his future match with Miss de Bourgh. Elizabeth found it hard not to laugh at his effrontery in expressing such tales of Mr. Darcy. He moved away soon after, no longer willing to spend time in her company. He affected enjoyment but Elizabeth could see his only wish was to be gone and she felt great joy at making him so. She smiled to herself quite often as she thought how Mr. Darcy would think of her now. He would be proud and she had no idea why that pleased her so. In fact she felt an unwitting co-conspirator with Mr. Darcy in bringing down Mr. Wickham.
Lydia left that evening with the Colonel and his wife, leaving Kitty in tears of envy, Mary in almost as much envy but keeping it well hidden under a dour mood, Mrs. Bennet convinced that Lydia would have the time of her life, Mr. Bennet glad of the peace and Jane and Elizabeth anxious at the outcome of letting someone so young be so far from any family. Elizabeth was also burdened with the knowledge of Mr. Wickham and had more than one second thought on keeping it to herself.
Mr. Darcy, meanwhile, had spent such an urgent and intense two weeks, attempting to fill every waking moment that his body was calling out for rest. His mind however would not allow it and he sought to exercise his demons by practice in those things in which he had always felt slightly inadequate. His first mission was billiards. He disliked being beaten by Mr. Bingley and thought that he would make use of his own table to improve his game. He visited a new craftsman in town said to manufacture the best cues in England. Naturally he ordered a new set for town and an additional set for Pemberley. After delivery he spent long hours after dinner shooting at balls. He even conscripted Georgiana to watch and the day she picked up a cue and shot a ball straight in the far pocket was the day he decided that it would never be his game.
His fencing had also taken on new meaning with an increase in attendance with his old master. He enjoyed the thinking required in fencing. It was less chance than billiards. The sabre was his to wield whereas the balls seemed to often roll on their own whim. He was an excellent swordsman, observant, quick and agile. His moves were often brilliant and his master was extremely proud of his past student. For Mr. Darcy it was simply a matter of out-thinking one's opponent. His greatest thrill though was riding. When he mounted his horse he felt free, alive and virile. He could gallop when he wished to lose himself and canter when he felt lively. And even walking atop a fine mount brought him pleasure. He had sometimes participated in the hunt and from a very young age he had been trained in the way to treat his dogs, strengthen his mounts and lead a hunt to the ultimate result of an ensnared fox. However watching the death of the fox was something he endured. He had no joy in that. But the intensity of the ride and the challenge of the race were thrilling and although there were limited groups available in town, he missed the organisation of his own hunt at Pemberley.
His business regarding the water problems in Derbyshire was involved and it seemed that serious consequences would be had in agriculture unless it was solved. He had spent some days with his cousin Lord Edward, in the House of Lords in the hope that some regulation could be brought forward that would assist all landowners. He had also chosen to investigate more fully the recent move to machinery. The use of a flat track to haul coal had intrigued him and listening to the talk at his club he agreed that it would soon become more widespread and facilitate increased movement of harvested crops. His investments also took on new meaning as he saw the drop in price of woollen yarn and the resulting fabric. He had also seen the decreasing need for workers to produce cotton yarn and fabric.
All these things filled his days but nothing quite filled his mind. It lapsed back to Longbourn at every turn. He felt cursed at times as everything brought him back there. Would the constant reference to all things Elizabeth never leave him?
Up to the removal of the regiment, Elizabeth had other things than Mr. Darcy to occupy her. However once the officers had left and the routine of the country returned, she found her mind even more occupied with him. Everything she saw of her parents brought her mind back to him and she saw not only the disparity she had known all her life but also what had resulted. Her father had allowed her mother to languish in her own shallow thinking and after putting some effort into the elder girls he had found the whole process too involved and allowed the younger ones to do as they wish. Admittedly he had insisted on them having the basics of education required for a lady. They could all read and write well and all had some accomplishments. However, he had allowed them all to determine the extent of furthering their education from that point and thus the younger and more indulged girls had chosen to leave things as they were. What future was there in reading when young gentlemen are about?
Suffering in such limited civilisation, Elizabeth had need to think forward and nothing suited that purpose more than her trip to the Lakes. It was a topic that she found could soak up quite a considerable amount of time away from his letter. She found herself settling very nicely into the thrill of anticipation and expectancy, when she received another letter, this time from her aunt. It seemed the tour must be delayed and shortened due to business. There would be no time to travel as far north as The Lakes. In fact their final destination would be Derbyshire. Suddenly nothing of the trip could distract her from Mr. Darcy. Despite the scope of Derbyshire she thought of it all as his home and felt nothing but the overwhelming notion that she was intruding on him. The news had destroyed any distance she was hoping to put between them. She was once again caught in the futility of escape.
She did not mention any of her feelings to Jane as the subject of Mr. Darcy had been dropped between them and Elizabeth had no desire to rekindle any of it. There were feelings and viewpoints too numerous to handle and even desires that she did not wish to understand or contemplate. After all she was now almost one and twenty and being no different from any lady that age and perhaps with more passion, the possibilities of his proposal must be continually dealt with. It would have been easier had he been even a little plainer, or perhaps a little shorter. And then of course there was his choice of words. That thought returned her first to his expression of passion and it was becoming harder to distinguish between that and his later words now that she had the time and distance to analyse every word. She was in fact, in some confusion. Not that the result could ever change in her mind but that will never stop a lady from daydreaming.
It was near the end of June, summer solstice in fact, almost six weeks since he had seen her, that he received an invitation to an evening at his cousin Edward's home. It was the birthday of his older daughter and Mr. Darcy knew that it would be impossible for him to refuse to attend. It was on a Sunday night and he had spent the week leading up to the event in increasing torment. He had only visited his club three times and all other society had been avoided. Georgiana was excited, the Colonel was eager as he had been suffering from a distinct lack of female companionship since returning to town with his cousin and Mr. Darcy was resigned. He had to attend but he did not have to enjoy himself. An outsider might even observe that his response was very similar to an Assembly he had attended the previous year in Meryton.
He dressed with the care required by his man and presented a most attractive companion for his sister. Georgiana had a new gown of the palest pink and she had wound her hair in a swirl, caught with an emerald clasp. Mr. Darcy watched her descend the stairs and realised that his sister had become a striking young woman. She was grown quite tall now, probably at her peak, and she reminded him of his mother in height and stature. She had his father's eyes whereas he had his mother's but she had all the manner of a Fitzwilliam. He watched her gather her cloak and noticed the slight nervousness in her look and it occurred to him that such shyness was a curse in the family. He had fought it all his life, his sister was deep within it, and his cousin Anne could be considered a sufferer as well. He had seen the same behaviour in Edward's younger daughter. Were the bloodlines so blighted or was this the result of dominance from an early age? Georgiana turned to him and they descended the steps to the carriage. The trip was only a few streets and they were in the receiving line within minutes. The Colonel grasped his cousin's arm soon after the greetings, anxious to have a companion on whom to test his judgment.
He swept Mr. Darcy into the ballroom where a small orchestra was playing softly. The room was filled with candles and ribbons, decorated to perfection for a girl's fourteenth birthday. The guests, however, were far from suitable. Edward's wife was more interested in rank than fun and Sophia would have to endure a night of boring conversation and stilted dancing. The Colonel quickly began an assessment of the room.
'You see Darcy, it is quite delightful. No end of ladies to admire. You always seem to attract the attention of the best so please be kind to them, cousin. I will have no hope if you spend the evening sulking.'
'You can quite easily leave me to my own devices, Richard.'
'But then I might miss the introductions. May we begin with those two over there? Quite striking. In fact, the dark one is beautiful. Come.'
He smiled towards the two ladies who were looking directly at the two gentlemen. Mr. Darcy had no option but to simulate a smile. The Colonel pulled him forward.
'Good evening ladies. As the brother of our host, I feel it my obligation to introduce my cousin and myself. I am Colonel Fitzwilliam and this is my cousin Mr. Darcy.'
He bowed deeply and Mr. Darcy followed with less reverence.
'Good evening,' he said.
They both smiled the smile of a ballroom and curtsied with requisite honour. The smaller dark one spoke first.
'This is Miss Russell and I am Miss Sutcliffe. I am so pleased to meet you Mr. Darcy. Your cousin Lord Edward has spoken of you quite often. You reside in Derbyshire, am I right?'
'Indeed, madam.'
She looked up at him for the first time, showing a quite pleasant face with more than a touch of intelligence. He was ready to move away until he looked directly at her. She deserved his courtesy.
'Do you know my cousin Lord Edward well, Miss Sutcliffe?'
'A little. My sister Lady Sarah is a close friend of Lady Jane and I see Lord Edward if I accompany her on a visit. Lady Jane is an avid hostess.'
'Yes, she does enjoy company.'
'Darcy here does not get out enough,' said the Colonel. 'I hope you will assist me in keeping him busy this evening.'
Mr. Darcy stood in silence, wondering if anything would stop his cousin from attempting to improve his life.
'It would be an honour, sir,' she said smiling at Mr. Darcy. He had the instinctive urge to run and hide or at least excuse himself but very quickly he realised the stupidity of such moves. He must learn to conduct himself with honour in all societies. After all, these ladies were doing nothing more than being polite. Surely he could afford them the same courtesy. So he stayed and he raised his eyebrows at just the right time to appear interested, he gestured appropriately, he seemed absorbed in their conversation, and yet he knew that he would have no memory of any of it by the morning. It was simply of no consequence. It meant nothing to him, to his life, to his future and he could not find a way to make it so.
He was returning to the small party carrying two cups of punch when his sister approached him.
'Fitzwilliam, I am so happy that you are talking to guests. I was afraid to leave you to be with my nieces. What are their names?'
'Names? Oh the ladies. Ah, one is a friend of Jane's ... no her sister is a friend of Jane's. That is the ... dark one. She is Miss Russell and the fairer one is Miss Sutcliffe.'
'Would you introduce me?'
'Certainly, come.'
They moved over to the ladies and Mr. Darcy began.
'Miss Russell and Miss Sutcliffe, may I introduce my sister.'
'Delighted, Miss Darcy,' said Miss Russell.
'Oh thank you Miss Sutcliffe, I hear your sister is a friend of my cousin,' said Miss Darcy.
'Oh I am sorry. I am Miss Russell. This is Miss Sutcliffe.'
Miss Darcy blushed deeply with embarrassment and managed to grasp her brother's arm for support. She glanced up at him with no slight degree of censure. How could he have confused the names of the ladies? Her look was painful. She had tried so hard to be outgoing and now she had no idea how to continue. Mr. Darcy made an apology and excused himself and his sister, taking her to a side room.
'I am so sorry, Georgiana dear. Will you forgive me?'
'Fitzwilliam! How could you?' she said as her colour rose again and she looked down at the floor.
'I am simply a boor at the moment. I should never have come. Will you do me the honour of the next dance? I promise to pay full attention.'
'I am not sure I can go out there again.'
'Of course you can, on your brother's arm. Look I am smiling just for you.'
She looked up at his very silly face and could not suppress a smile.
'If only people could see your silly side, Fitzwilliam. You look like you are ten years old.'
'You would not know how I looked at ten years as you were not born. Cheeky girl! Come. Perhaps we need each other tonight.'
They entered the ballroom arm in arm and he guided her to the top of the set. The music began and together they moved lightly and elegantly down the room not speaking but simply enjoying the contentment of being with each other. As they moved, Mr. Darcy noticed the looks of admiration for her from the gentlemen present and he wondered at their motives. She was a striking girl with more than her share of style. She was not beautiful in the classic sense but neither was she plain. It was her smile rarely seen that lit up her face. They finished the two sets and were moving away when the voice of Lady Catherine halted them.
'Darcy, Georgiana, you have not been to greet me.'
'We were dancing madam,' said Mr. Darcy.
'And a fine couple you make. Darcy you should ask Anne next.'
'First I must take care of my sister, aunt.'
'I am very happy to see you accompanying her, Darcy. Too many young women are left to their own devices these days. I am still displeased by the way Miss Bennet was left without a servant on her tour to Kent. Connections or not, her father should not have allowed it.'
Mr. Darcy inhaled deeply and lowered his eyes to avoid catching Georgiana's. She pressed her hand more firmly on his arm ensuring her support for this awkward moment. After a few moments of recovery, Mr. Darcy found that he could not resist hearing of Elizabeth.
'I assume that Miss Bennet departed on schedule.'
'She did and in doing so completely ignored my offer to bring her as far as London in the barouche box! Quite an extraordinarily independent young woman.'
'Was ... was she intending to stay in town?' asked Mr. Darcy tentatively.
'She was to meet her sister here, I think. I hardly know, as she seemed reluctant to offer information. I have to say that she appeared to be gaining some reserve in her manners over the end of her stay. She was quite withdrawn at times. I am sure it was because she was realising the loss of better society. A girl such as Miss Bennet rarely gets the chance to associate above her class. You were quite kind to entertain her Darcy. I am sure it took some effort. She has none of the refinement of Anne.'
'Perhaps her refinement is expressed in different ways.'
'She did at least have opinions. So many young ladies do not speak at all. I do prefer to hear them speak. Are you speaking up now, Georgiana? I suppose not. You never do. You should make her speak more, Darcy. Your sister would be very pleasant to listen to I am sure. She would have none of the country airs of Miss Bennet. Where is Edward? I have seen Jane. I must say that woman can talk! I am quite put out by her at times. I cannot abide a woman who cannot stop talking. Well I see my brother and I will have supper with him. I hope you have spoken to your uncle, Darcy. And bring Georgiana.'
She marched off with her lady in tow leaving Mr. Darcy and his sister quite breathless from listening to her.
'I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam.'
'For what, dear?'
'Our aunt. Her words were of Miss Bennet were not kind. I could feel your discomfort.'
'It is as it is. I have found more and more lately that I can only abide our aunt for very short periods. She is becoming more and more formidable with age. Now shall we return to the ladies or are you feeling brave enough to speak with our uncle?'
'Oh dear, I wish neither. Do I have to?'
'You do indeed. At some time tonight you must speak with the Earl.'
'Then shall we do it now so that I can try to enjoy the remainder of the evening.'
Mr. Darcy guided her towards the group of his family. The Earl of Matlock, Edward and Richard's father was a man of approximately sixty years with thin vestiges of white hair around a very shiny balding head. He was now a little shorter than his sister, Lady Catherine. He had always reminded Mr. Darcy of his mother, Lady Anne who had been a favourite of her older brother.
'Darcy, Georgiana, how good to see you. Catherine just told me you were here. Such a crowd for a girl's birthday party but we all know that Jane would leave no one out. You are still the handsome one in the family, Darcy. Quite the catch, I see. There are no ladies present who have not eyes for you. I remember the days when the ladies noticed me. So tell me, sir, when do you intend to marry? Your father would never have allowed you to wait so long. Heirs, my boy, heirs! A man must be about his business!'
'All in good time, sir. I have yet to meet the lady who would have me.'
Georgiana grasped his arm once more.
'Have you, Darcy, have you! What nonsense! You may have whom you desire, boy. Pick one.'
'You would not have me marry without affection, uncle.'
'Affection comes with them, Darcy. They are all caring in their own way. Give them babies and they will care for you. That is all these modern girls want.'
'But perhaps I want more, uncle. Excuse me, I see some friends whom I have yet to speak to. Good evening.'
He and his sister bowed politely and moved away. Miss Darcy was embarrassed at such open talk while Mr. Darcy felt nothing. Such talk had been his lot for over five years now. The family continually made it the main topic of conversation. He accompanied his sister back to her nieces and left them to gossip about the latest fashions, the young gentlemen present and their own music. He moved to his normal stance near the corner of the room and as he was about to strike the appropriate pose of hauteur and detachment, he changed his mind and strode out of the room through the French doors and onto the stone patio beyond.
The long evening of sunlight had begun to fade and soon the moon would rise. It was a glorious evening, the beginning of high summer. Would she be picking strawberries in the days to come? Would she be found wandering the paths around Longbourn with a small basket in her hand, her bonnet flying back from her head and her hair sending wisps to meet the wind? Such romantic thoughts and such silly useless thoughts. Romance was something he no longer wanted in his life. It was much simpler to be about business and study. And he looked up and smiled at the deepening sky. And if she could have seen it, she would have noticed the softening of his mouth, the lessening of the lines on his brow and the glint of mellowness in his eyes, exactly the look she had so often missed as he looked at her.
Chapter 33
And so as the weeks passed Mr. Darcy gradually gained some normality in his life. Or so he felt. To outsiders he still fluctuated throughout his different moods, each one taking on a force unseen before his trip to Kent. It seemed that what small degree of half measure or calmness that he had shown previously had disappeared leaving a parade of extremes. The measure of his moods depended on the way he was thinking of Elizabeth at that time. When his thoughts of her passed into regret he became bitter and cutting but then when he imagined her face he knew that he would never regret loving her and he became quiet and withdrawn.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, had found that normality might never exist again, at least the normality that she had accepted for the past one and twenty years. She knew that tolerance for her family had been lessening, but since Kent it had become almost impossible. In fact it had become so tiresome that Elizabeth now spent most of her days outside or in her room. She read her books, perused his letter and thought of being loved by him. He loved her! Mr. Darcy actually loved her! Despite her moods, her criticism and her coolness, he fell in love with her. It was still impossible to understand fully. Not having experienced such a feeling in her life, it was hopeless to imagine what he was going through now although by the look on his face that evening and more so the next morning, she presumed it was devastating.
Despite weeks of the same thoughts, they would not disappear. In fact, on some days, his words became even more vivid. And then she knew that he could not possibly still love her. She had been cruel and unjust to him and no man would continue in love when such things had passed between them. And she had no one to speak to of this. She could not confide anymore of her emotions to Jane as she had even more pain. Elizabeth at least had the power of rejection, whereas Jane had not even the power of affection. And with these thoughts of her affect on Mr. Darcy, came the natural sensation of power and control. She had never before realised the influence of a man and a woman on each other but his eyes had told her all in a matter of moments. She would never forget his look as she told him that nothing he said would have induced her to accept him.
And so it was in this mood that Elizabeth attempted to choose what she would wear to the next assembly, the final outing before her tour north. And as she had always done, she began to think over her wardrobe choices the day before the event. At the bottom of the closet, folded neatly, were two gowns. The dress she had worn to the ball was special and its preservation had begun simply as any lady begins, with the idea that it was only for such distinctive occasions. It was simply her best dress. She had taken it to Kent, but it had not been worn. However there had been one evening back in town with her aunt when it would have been suitable. She had removed it from her trunk, held it up and the only thing in her mind was Mr. Darcy. He had singled her out to dance because he loved her and now that she was aware of the meaning of his looks, his touch and his words that night; she felt a kind of betrayal in wearing it for another. Being in town, so close to him and still holding the secrets of his letter, she had refolded the gown and packed it in her trunk. On her return it had resided in the closet.
On the very bottom was a frock that had never been special until that day, her cream day dress. She had removed it that night and never put it on again. It had been folded carefully and placed low on the shelves, then packed and returned to a similar place in her own bedroom. She had often reached for it and once after reading his letter again, she had actually held it up. But it brought home with far too much clarity, the feeling of that evening and the agony of them both. She suspected it might never be worn again.
The Assembly varied little from those they had attended since their coming out a few years ago and upon arrival, Elizabeth and Jane both had similar thoughts. It almost seemed they were revisiting their past as they entered the room with their minds lingering on the places that brought back special memories. Elizabeth looked to the row of chairs she had been seated on when she overheard Mr. Darcy and although his words were glued in her mind, the meaning of them had suddenly changed. For over seven months she had basked in the tone of his derision and only now did she realise the rashness of her opinion. He had been simply trying to fend off dancing. His words could have been chosen better but they did not deserve her prolonged censure. What misguided pride she had to be so bitter. She then began again on a long evening of internal mortification at her behaviour over those months. In fact in a lady of lesser intellect it could have been debilitating but Elizabeth was clever enough to understand her foibles and mistakes and attempt to balance them against her other attributes. She thus presented to the world a lady filled with a desire for happiness and it was only under the surface that she attempted a rational understanding of her own shortcomings.
Elizabeth and Jane separated themselves quickly from their mother and two sisters and moved to speak to Sir William and Lady Lucas. As they approached they were struck with the sight of a new gentleman standing a little alone. The gentleman in fact proved to be an excellent addition to the party if dancing with as many ladies as possible constitutes excellence. He smiled, talked, danced and fussed just enough to charm the matrons, and offer hopes to the single ladies. He had shown preference for Jane by asking her to dance twice but she had only accepted once. She just could not lift herself any further.
Elizabeth was also asked to dance but she was not feeling friendly at all and used her wit and words to silence the poor man at every turn. He left her feeling almost as if he had been assaulted. She sighed to herself, fully aware of her actions, yet she felt no remorse. He was not enough to satisfy her whim for fun. He was just entirely too ordinary. It was a long three hours for both ladies who returned home with more spirit than they had ever shown on leaving an assembly. They were both glad to leave it behind.
Elizabeth hurried to her room and her books without any review of events with her sisters. She had sought a new beginning by a return to the pattern of her previous life but it had only made her more dissatisfied with her lot. She was irritable when she would normally have been complacent, she was restless despite walking longer and farther than ever before and she craved the conversation and thoughts of superior minds. In all she had simply outgrown her position and her company and she had no means of altering it.
Mr. Darcy, meanwhile, had pulled back into his life with personal determination, placing his constant thoughts of Elizabeth firmly within. He had spent so much time examining himself and his actions that there was nothing left to do but treasure the fact of loving her. His one real concern was his letter. He had overstepped the bounds of propriety by writing to her and he could only hope that she was everything he knew of her and that she had understood his words and accepted them. He would live his life with a silent grief and not allow it to infiltrate the outside world any longer. At least they were his thoughts. Whether the world would be blinded to his inner demons was another thing entirely but for now he must be satisfied that it was the best he could offer.
Two days after the birthday party he received a long-awaited letter from Mr. Bingley. He and his sisters had spent a month with their aunt in Derbyshire and were now returned to Mr. Hurst's family home in upper Middlesex. His mood sounded resigned, a little solemn perhaps, but far improved since his departure from town. He spoke of hunts and hunting and his improved billiards, which made Mr. Darcy smile. His friend hung carefully to his wins. There was a little talk of ladies and parties and the other things that usually filled his notes but his expressions were less intense. He asked of Mr. Darcy's visit to Kent and when he would be returning to Pemberley but there was one sentence near the end that caused Mr. Darcy to pause. Mr. Bingley mentioned Netherfield and his intention to finalise the lease at Michaelmas. And suddenly he could hear her words so clearly that he could be mistaken for thinking she was standing opposite him in his library.
He had explained himself to her in his letter but he had done nothing to appease her claims. And now he wondered if it could ever be dealt with. Time was a great healer they say but it had done little for him. However Mr. Bingley was a man of easier emotion and less force of passion. His letter was such that Mr. Darcy thought himself incapable of offering hope again to his friend. After all, Miss Bennet herself may have moved so far past any previous attachment that to renew the subject with his friend would be simply torture. He could not know of her feelings now especially as Elizabeth may have disclosed the details of the event. He read his friend's letter again and after careful consideration of his own position, he knew that the matter had been finalised.
His desire to resume some form of routine began to lessen his apparent pressing need to stay in town. He had delayed returning to Pemberley at every chance but it could not be postponed forever. He had been absent now for some months and although Franklin was an excellent steward, it was impossible to smoothly run such a large estate without residing there. But could he face it alone? In all his life he had never faced such self-doubt. For so long his return had been planned in his mind and now there was nothing. He had fled Kent with no thought but escape but the move to Pemberley, to his ancestral home, was to accept continuance of life as it used to be, a solitary existence of fortune and rank. He began an attempt to accustom his mind and body to his return and was in the middle of such thoughts when the Colonel knocked on his door.
'Darcy, may I come in? Thank you.'
'I am busy, Fitzwilliam.'
'Good, then you will listen.'
Mr. Darcy leaned back in his chair. His cousin was obviously going to speak whether invited or not.
'I am off tomorrow.'
'Off ... leaving? To Matlock?'
'No, I must return to the regiment.'
'Oh you have been here so long I thought that you had resigned.'
'Paltry attempt at humour, cousin. I expect an improvement by Christmas.'
'We will not see you until Christmas?'
'No doubt you will but I am not sure how long I will be able to take leave. Things are hotting up somewhat and I may see active service yet.'
Mr. Darcy moved to his cousin, placing his hand on his arm.
'Please do not be flippant, Richard. Are you really for battle?'
'Perhaps not battle, as such. But there is talk of moves.'
'You will avoid danger, won't you?'
'At all costs, Darcy. I am no hero.'
'I would not have you so, at least not in battle. I was hoping you would be to Pemberley with me.'
'Ah, you have decided to return. I am happy for you, Darcy. It is a move in the right direction.'
'Is it? I had such hopes, you know, such hopes. But it must be done. There is business that can only be dealt with in Derbyshire and I do detest summer in town.'
'Then you had much better be off or it will be autumn. When do you depart?'
'Perhaps next week. I have a few more things to settle here and then I thought I might enjoy the company of old friends at Pemberley.'
'So you have not quite resolved everything.'
'No, there is some business still.'
'I was not speaking of business, Darcy.'
'I fail to understand you.'
'Your attempts at disguise are as paltry as your wit today, cousin. You say you have resolved to return and then you tell me that you intend to enjoy the company of friends. You only ever invite house guests when it is obligatory. Thus I suspect that you hope that a house full of people will mask your misery. I see you have exchanged one form for the other. It will be misery indeed to be continually entertaining.'
'Georgiana will accompany me.'
'Of course, and we both know how much she enjoys large parties. You cannot hide from yourself in such a way, Darcy. I saw this when my uncle died. You hid and then you filled your days with the senseless chatter of house guests.'
'You have seen right through me.'
'You do not need me to remind you of yourself. Take care, cousin. I would not have you any thinner than you are now. Might I suggest a visit to the tailor prior to your return? One glance from Mrs. Reynolds and you will be bombarded with chicken broth and warm blankets.'
'I ... I do feel better ... a little. Georgiana has mentioned my failure to eat sufficiently. Sometimes she sounds so like our mother.'
'Then be warned. With two such ladies about you, your life will be a nightmare. Women are not easily distracted when such a cause is available.'
'I will remember your words. Then this is goodbye.'
'Indeed. I hope my visit did not bore you too much.'
'Never, Fitzwilliam! Never! I will miss you. Take great care, sir.'
'For you I will do ... Darcy, I will surely miss you! What a time we have.'
Mr. Darcy walked to his cousin and in a manner uncharacteristic for either of them, they hugged. The Colonel pulled away first and looked Mr. Darcy in the eyes.
'What does that Shakespeare fellow say ... Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.'
'Then, must you speak, Of one that loved not wisely but too well,' replied Mr. Darcy with a smile.
'Yes I will certainly miss you, sir. Good-bye, my friend,' said the Colonel.
He walked out quickly, shutting the door smartly. Mr. Darcy stood where he was listening to the sounds of his cousin's footsteps as they crossed to the stairs. He turned to his desk. No he could not return alone to Pemberley. To do so would be to place himself back in that ordeal of desolation.
He sat and removed a sheet, flattening it unconsciously with his left hand as his right picked up a new pen. First Bingley. He must have Bingley. Would that he could travel without his sisters. However, Caroline might provide a suitable candidate for his bite for he felt in great need of biting words. Then Sandby and Dannon. Yes he would invite them too. He began his letters, making them brief and to the point. Within an hour he had them ready for the post. Happy with the move to regain his life, he decided that he would also make an extra effort with his sister and began with careful dressing for dinner. Miss Darcy was surprised to see her brother in the drawing room before her, already sipping on a glass of wine.
'Ah, Georgiana, I have been waiting for you. Would you like a cordial dear or perhaps some wine?'
'Fitzwilliam, what has come over you? It has been weeks since you were ready on time for dinner.'
'My manners have slipped, but no more. I will be about business as usual. I have even made plans to return to Pemberley.'
'Oh I do so wish to go home. When do we leave?'
'I should say in about a week, maybe a little longer. I have a little more business to finalise before departure. I have asked Bingley and others to come with us.'
'You mean, travel with us? I was hoping for some time at home with only you.'
'I think we both spend too much time alone, dear. It will do us good.'
'This is most unlike you, brother. You rarely take pleasure in house guests.'
'Well this time I am determined to. And I miss Bingley very much.'
'Are Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst coming also?'
'I would suspect so. I did include them in the invitation.'
'Oh!'
'Oh? You do not approve. I could hardly disregard them.'
'I know but Miss Bingley is so...'
'Yes, she is so! Never mind, I am sure she will be just enough to secure my bad mood for the whole of her visit and nothing silences her so much as my bad moods.'
'Please be happy, Fitzwilliam.'
'I am endeavouring to be so.'
'Does that mean you will eat all your dinner?'
'Yes, mother!'
He smiled across at his sister who smiled back. She walked over and took his arm and together they enjoyed a quiet dinner where Mr. Darcy attempted to eat a little more than he had been but still could not find the appetite of previous times.
After the boredom of the assembly, Elizabeth had decided that she would concentrate solely on her tour and in that vain she spent hours going over the route they would probably take, as well as the clothes necessary for such a trip. She filled her last days at home with numerous things hoping that it left little or no time for contemplation on her future. Her aunt and uncle arrived a little after lunch, the day before they were to leave and the nieces and nephews were excited, as they were to spend the time at Longbourn in the care of Miss Bennet. Accommodation for the large group was secured with some inconvenience for that one night and after a somewhat early breakfast and many farewells to the children and family, the trio set off for the long tour to Derbyshire.
For Elizabeth it was a slow passage of body and mind. She was so very glad to be leaving Longbourn but so wary of visiting Derbyshire. If only it could have been anywhere else but Mrs. Gardiner had been born there and was so anxious to revisit her childhood home. Elizabeth, however, greatly enjoyed the company of her aunt and uncle and it was their thoughts that kept her composed as she listened to constant talk of Mr. Darcy's home county. They travelled for almost two weeks through all the best sites, visiting the larger houses and Elizabeth was beginning to relax more and more and was almost able to appreciate the beauty of the north without any underlying feeling of intrusion. However her composure was shattered when Mrs. Gardiner detailed the vicinity of her home village of Lambton to Pemberley. It was barely five miles and as they neared the district, Elizabeth immediately felt the unease of an unwelcome visitor.
Mr. Darcy had received a prompt reply from his friend agreeing to the visit and they would be meeting the Bingleys in Lutton at lunch on the first day and travelling with them to Bedford for the first night of the journey. The Sandbys and Dannons were to arrive about a week after the main party.
Although he had hoped to be away by the last week in July, delay in preparations including a trip to the tailor, forced them to begin on the first day of August. Packing for such a trip took the servants some time, as the Darcys would probably not be in town again before Christmas but Mr. Darcy found the commotion quite soothing as it left little time for reflection. He concentrated on the precision of packing especially of the new pianoforte bought as a surprise for Georgiana and to be sent ahead. The furniture he had ordered for her sitting room should already be delivered but there were some drapes that he would be bringing with them. Then there was the transport of the horses. Each detail was precisely outlined with no room left for error. He was always fastidious but this enhanced detail had his staff at breaking point. Georgiana spoke to him about it and his only reply was a grunt as he moved to instruct another servant of his needs. All in all it was a relief to all concerned when the door of the carriage was closed behind Mr. Darcy.
The passage to Lutton took only a few hours and Mr. Darcy found himself overjoyed to see his friend again.
'Bingley! How good to see you.'
'Darcy, you are so thin. What has happened to you?'
'Business, business. I have had no time to eat. I am quite well.'
'It would not appear so. Have you slept at all since we last met? Your face is positively gaunt.'
'Please Charles, I am really quite well. I have just had many things on my mind but they are all dealt with now. I hope you are up for an extended period of hunting. I have a great need to ride and shoot.'
'I am.'
'So let us be about lunch. I need some refreshments and I would like to be in Bedford by six.'
The party all moved to the inn for a substantial array of local fare and after the necessary ablutions they were ready to board the carriages. Mr. Bingley expressed a desire to travel with Mr. Darcy and very quickly he boarded the carriage before his sisters could interfere. Georgiana was extremely happy to see her brother's spirits lift a little and she sat back and smiled as the two friends caught up.
After a night in Bedford, the party moved further north with a night in Leicester. Their final stop would be Derby before the half-day journey to Pemberley. As they approached the limits of Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy began to feel the return of anxiety. The company of his friend had relieved it for almost two days but he began to feel the dread of his return to the place he had hoped to bring Elizabeth. There were so many situations there that he wished to show her, to be with her. His mood became deeper and deeper and the confines of the carriage began to bind him like rope and he knew that he could not enter his home like this. There were things he had to deal with alone before they arrived and he knew that he had to deal with his return alone, to find resolution for his desolation.
That night as they arrived in Derby, he announced that instead of spending a leisurely day there before the final part of the journey, he would ride on alone in the morning to deal with business with his steward. Of course Mr. Bingley offered to accompany him but he refused, citing the need for his friend to accompany the ladies. His man would be sufficient companion.
Elizabeth and her relatives arrived in Lambton late in the afternoon and over dinner that evening, they discussed their plans for the following day. Mrs. Gardiner was really eager to visit the district and knowing now that Mr. Wickham had lived at Pemberley she chose that as an inducement for Elizabeth's approval. Elizabeth declined, using all the paltry excuses she could summon but still they persisted. She was so distressed that she felt she must resort to disclosing information of her connection to Mr. Darcy when another thought occurred to her. That night she made discreet enquiries about the family's residency and was relieved to hear they were all absent for the summer. At least in that she was safe from meeting him.
And so it was she retired, anxious to know what his home looked like but reluctant to actually be there. The emotions she must endure during the visit would be great indeed. How could she walk the halls of his home knowing what she did of his feelings for her? It was all so very much to absorb and she lay with her eyes shut and her mind racing through most of the night, catching short periods of sleep before waking again as alert as if it was first morning.
Mr. Darcy retired quite late after another evening meal with his friends and the constant round of conversation necessary at such occasions. He also spent a restless night, anxious to be home and reluctant to arrive. He lay on his back most of the night, reliving past events and his body seemed chilled from the inside but he failed to recall the familiarity of that. She was now at the opposite end of the country without a single thought of him, yet he craved her more and more as he moved away from her. He knew that this must finish and that he must begin again and so he resolved that this would indeed be the beginning of a new future without her. He would look over the lake, walk through the halls, sit quietly in the drawing room, and last of all he would enter his rooms, their rooms. He would not regret. He could never regret. He had simply to experience Pemberley without Elizabeth and do to that he must place her spirit in those rooms and those grounds and leave it there to reside quietly for only him to feel.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
Twelfth Night
Then, must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely but too well.
Othello
Chapter 34
The morning was clear in Derby, with the sun drying the dew by seven. Mr. Darcy ate an early and solitary breakfast. His man had already left but had ensured that his master's horse was saddled and ready to mount by half past eight. Mr. Darcy left the inn with no concern for farewells and was about to mount when he saw the innkeeper's wife standing at the door. There was something of her that reminded him of Mrs. Reynolds, his housekeeper at Pemberley, and he turned to her.
'Thank you, madam. My guests have been well looked after as have my horses.'
She looked up at him in surprise. He had stayed there often and never once had he addressed her in such a way. She nodded and he mounted his horse and rode off.
Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle also rose early. Mrs. Gardiner was so excited to be visiting Pemberley as in all her time as a girl in Lambton she had never crossed the boundary. She hurried her husband through his meal, checking that the carriage would be ready on time and it was just after nine o'clock that the small party stepped up into the carriage for the short journey to Pemberley. As each milestone passed Elizabeth became more and more anxious, her spirits in such a buzz that she could not concentrate. When they actually entered the grounds, she found herself quite flushed. Their passage began at the bottom of a slow incline and Elizabeth began to remark on everything she saw of the woods. In fact she began to comment so often that her aunt wondered what had brought such a change in her niece.
The gradual climb brought them to a high point where they looked across a small valley to see Pemberley House. It was simply exquisite. Until this moment, she had never really thought of his home as anything particular. In fact Miss Bingley's continual praise of Pemberley had left Elizabeth sure that it resembled Rosings with its ostentatious plantings and enhancements. But Pemberley was simply resting within the bounds of nature, trying to be nothing more than an enhancement of its panorama.
It was a magnificent stone building, very large and positioned on the most beautiful rise she had ever seen. It was almost naturally framed by a massive stand of trees in the rear and a tranquil stream at the front, winding naturally to a larger expanse that was almost a lake or large pond. The surrounds had been cultivated to enhance the natural contours of the grounds with native plants left in their favourite positions. Each species seemed to have almost chosen its perfect residence beside this grand mansion.
It was so breathtaking that Elizabeth simply looked in awe, words failing her. In fact his estate was the most desirable residence she had ever seen with its form and style showing a discernment of taste that could only come from a family and a man of elegance and education. It had no pretence to anything other than its natural attributes and she pondered silently what it might have felt like to be mistress of it all.
The man in her thoughts was now well into his own journey of some fifteen miles. It was not a short ride on any day but he was anxious to arrive and so pushed his mount to cover the distance quickly although the passage was not always fast as there were at least two carriages on the road that required careful passing. He rested his mount at his usual stop and managed to refresh his own palate with a large tankard of ale but after no more than a quarter of an hour, he was on his way again. He had covered almost nine miles already and would soon be within his own estate.
The carriage proceeded across a small bridge over the pond and halted at the north door. Elizabeth was first out and the moment her feet stepped on his ground, she was filled with apprehension. She felt surrounded by him, overcome with his power and suddenly aware that every aspect reflected the man, for he was indeed as handsome as his home. As her relatives applied to view the residence she felt an awful tremour of fear in case her news had been wrong and he was indeed in residence. However, there was no word of it so she entered the hall with a great curiosity to see more.
The housekeeper was quite past middle age and seemed far more affable than Elizabeth would have thought his housekeeper would be but then so many things this day were full of surprise. Mrs. Reynolds welcomed them with poise and candour showing them through a variety of rooms each as graceful and elegant as the grounds. The furniture had been chosen for its form, each setting shaping a vignette that flowed naturally to the next with every room continuing the elegance and each window providing a vista of sublime taste. On entering the front drawing room Elizabeth moved to a large window and saw that even the distant approach they had taken now formed a superb view from the house.
Of course the awe-inspiring sensation of actually living at Pemberley could not be ignored and she soon allowed her imagination to take over and picture herself within these rooms, residing in the peace and contentment that must come from such a place. She was almost overcome with the possibilities when his words came back to haunt her and she realised that even if she had accepted him, he probably would never have allowed her family and acquaintances to visit. No, she would have had to be satisfied with only his choice of guests. Her resentment then began to resurface and removed any remorse she had begun to feel seeping through her. No it could never have been.
As they moved through the house, Elizabeth heard her uncle enquire if the master was actually absent and she held her breath for the answer. Her sigh was almost audible when she heard the housekeeper say that he was indeed away but would be returning on the morrow with a large party of friends. Elizabeth was shaken. To face him again under any circumstance would prove testing but to be found uninvited at his home would be misery. She felt her colour rise and she turned away to settle herself. Only one day had separated them. Perhaps he would pass through Lambton tomorrow. The whole thing was impossible to think of and she passed quickly to another room where her aunt was calling to show her an item of interest.
As she moved to the door she saw her aunt pointing to a series of miniature enamels framed perfectly over the mantle. Moving closer she saw that her aunt was specifically pointing to one of Mr. Wickham hoping to please her niece. Before Elizabeth could express any opinion, Mrs. Reynolds informed them of the subject and his background, finishing with a polite but abrupt statement that he was of no value. Elizabeth remained silent as her relatives looked enquiringly at her and was glad to have the housekeeper continue to speak by pointing out the preferred miniature of Mr. Darcy drawn some eight years before. Elizabeth watched as her tone and expression changed with the subject and listened as she stated what a fine man he was in appearance and generosity.
Mrs. Gardiner immediately looked to Elizabeth again for confirmation and finding that she knew Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Reynolds immediately took favour with her and from that moment seemed determined to ensure that Elizabeth thought well of the house and its master. She even asked Elizabeth if she thought Mr. Darcy handsome and Elizabeth confirmed it with no reservation at all. Whatever her mixed feelings were for him, his appearance could never be criticised. Having such a lovely ally in Elizabeth, the housekeeper then offered to show them a much superior portrait of Mr. Darcy upstairs in the gallery and as they moved to the staircase she continued to speak highly of the family including Miss Darcy whom she thought as pretty as her brother was handsome with accomplishments beyond those of other young ladies.
Elizabeth listened in virtual silence while her uncle and Mrs. Reynolds chattered on about Mr. and Miss Darcy until she heard her uncle suggest that his marrying might mean he would be at home more. At this Elizabeth could not help but pause. This was a subject that could not be touched. However, when Mrs. Reynolds replied that she thought there was no one good enough for Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth just had to remark that it was to Mr. Darcy's credit that she thought so. It seemed then that Mrs. Reynolds could not be stopped and she began another round of praise for the gentleman beginning at his childhood, and pointing out his affability, good temper and manners that had only improved with his age.
This continual praise of Mr. Darcy was the last thing Elizabeth had expected on her visit. To hear such words from a woman who had known him since childhood was quite something. In fact the praise was so earnest that she wondered if it was indeed her Mr. Darcy that was being spoken of. Elizabeth's opinion of him had improved over the last two months but this was beyond anything she could have imagined and once again her own misjudgements and misconceptions crept to the fore and she felt more self doubt than at any time in her life.
Mr. Darcy had now crossed into Pemberley and he found himself sitting higher and riding slower so as to appreciate his home. It had been so long that he had forgotten the aura that it exuded. He calmed his mount and began to breathe deeply as he approached the house but his mount was restless. It had been a long hard ride and he was as anxious as his master to rest and recover so Mr. Darcy allowed him to set the pace for home.
Elizabeth walked slowly along the family gallery looking carefully at the many portraits hanging there. Each one was superbly executed with frames that were a mixture of elaborate and plain. The light from the windows cast a faint dusty hue through the air and it was through this pale yellow glow that she first saw his portrait. It was hung slightly higher than those around it, no doubt in deference to his position. He was leaning against a mantle, one arm resting, and the other slightly bent at his side. Her eyes slowly lifted to his face and his eyes caught her, captured her. He had a gentle smile, a slight mellowing to his eyes and softened creases on his brow. And suddenly it came to her. It was exactly the look she had seen so often as he looked at her and so often she had misread.
She turned from him, unable to secure her feelings, and recovered herself by feigning interest in the remaining portraits. However as the viewing finished, Elizabeth was drawn back, compelled to look on him once more so she returned to his portrait and stood looking up at him, unable to withdraw from his look and feeling of love that he had felt for her.
Mrs. Reynolds watched in puzzlement as the expression on Elizabeth's face softened and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly and she quietly told her that the portrait had been painted while Mr. Darcy's father was alive. Her words diverted Elizabeth from her own thoughts and she decided that his look might have been for his father.
They moved to other rooms with Mrs. Reynolds anxious to show them all that was available for viewing. She pointed out Miss Darcy's sitting room, the library but only from the door, and then, although closed from viewing, the direction in which her master's suite could be found. Elizabeth wandered with them, taking in the atmosphere of the house and even the smell of it. It was not musty or damp but held a pleasant almost citrus scent, crisp and clean and there was nothing to notice of age or wear. His fastidiousness obviously extended to housekeeping she thought. The tour of the house was soon finished and Mrs. Reynolds escorted them downstairs and outside by the side door where the gardener was ready to continue with a tour of the grounds and walking paths.
Mr. Darcy, meanwhile, had been guided very well by his companion and it had only taken a few minutes to reach the stables. His man had arrived only some twenty minutes before Mr. Darcy, having a much slower mount, so the stable boy was only just prepared to greet his master. Mr. Darcy dismounted and stretched. It had begun. He had returned without her. He had now only to summon the courage to view his home without her. He handed over the small bag from his saddle and removing his hat, he brushed it to rid it of the dust of travel. He patted his mount and strode along the road from the stable, around towards the side door of the house.
Elizabeth and her relatives were now somewhat away from the house being shown the expanse of grassy verge leading to the river which formed into the small lake. She walked almost halfway down the lawn alone as Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner moved ahead and began a spirited discussion on the age of the house. She then turned back to gauge it better from this distance and as she looked up at the roofline a sudden movement caught her eyes and she looked down to the road. Moving out of the shadows, Mr. Darcy strode quickly around the corner of the house, and looked over lawn leading to the river. And there was Elizabeth, looking straight back at him.
His body just stopped, he could not move his legs, he could not breathe. She was here. And she was no better at coping with this moment. She stood dazed, shocked. He was here. Their eyes met and there seemed no way for either to look away. Their cheeks flushed with the deepest colours and each of their minds raced with thoughts that were read by the other in an instant.
As his body refused to function, his mind refused to stop. Dear god, she is here. She is here. She is standing here at Pemberley. It is Elizabeth. His mind kept repeating it to him. And just as quickly he moved to the next thought. Why, how? It could be no accident. She chose to come. Dear god, she chose to come to Pemberley. Could that mean...no he would not allow it to go further. Her looks had too often deceived him.
She stood in perfect stillness for a few seconds, flushed deep red, beads of perspiration streaming down her back. She was standing on his estate, uninvited, intruding. How he must hate her. If Elizabeth could have died at that moment she would have been grateful to that god who would put her there. She must turn away from him.
Mr. Darcy, surprising himself more than anyone, was the first able to function properly. He took a deep breath and ignoring the agony of blushing in her presence he moved towards her. His movement forward halted her move away from him and she turned back as he approached. He paused some two yards from her. She had lowered her eyes as he walked and now she could only see his hands holding firmly to his hat. His boots were dusty, his pants splashed with a little mud. Such triviality under such circumstances but the brain does not always do what we wish. Her scrutiny would go no higher yet she must find something of him to distract her. She felt the stares of her relatives and even the shock of the gardener as they all stood watching his approach.
He knew she was avoiding his eyes. In one sweep he saw the wisps of hair he had so often thought of grasping, escape from her bonnet. She frock was almost white, blowing gently against her body. She held a small umbrella, the same colour as her gloves. Her fingers moved restlessly as her body remained immobile. He must speak.
'Miss Bennet.'
'Mr. Darcy.' Her eyes did not venture up.
He had no idea what to say next. He just knew that he must continue.
'Miss Bennet, I ... I am delighted to see you again. I had no idea...'
'Mr. Darcy, you must accept my apology. We...I...would never have come to Pemberley if I had known you were here.'
He could hear the rasp of nerves in her voice. She had still not caught his eye since his approach and hearing her words, his heart sank. She was simply curious.
'It is nothing, Miss Bennet, please. Is your family well?'
'Yes, sir.'
His eyes widened, begging her to look up at him.
'Ah...when did you leave Longbourn? I thought you at Longbourn. It is a long journey. When did you leave?'
'About two ... ah, three, no two weeks ago. We have been touring the country.'
She slowly lifted her eyes a little, still not catching his.
'So you are staying in Derbyshire? Where might I ask? You are staying in Derbyshire.'
'Yes, in Lambton. It is very near here.'
Elizabeth had never felt so awkward in her life. Of course he knew it was near. She had always been the one apparently at ease but on this occasion, it was all his. He could not hate her. He would not be speaking so if he had grown to hate her.
'Yes it is very near. When did you leave Longbourn, Miss Bennet?'
'About two weeks ago, Mr. Darcy. I must apologise again for being at Pemberley without your knowledge.'
She raised her eyes to his for the first time since his approach and they were soft and warm. She attempted a half-smile but withdrew it instantly. She could not smile at him, not now. His heart sank at her obvious withdrawal.
'I just arrived. No one knew I was coming. I came to ... I have business with my steward.'
'Oh.'
'You left Longbourn two weeks ago. Your family must be well then, for you to leave. Is your family well Miss Bennet? You must have travelled far in Derbyshire.'
'Yes, we have seen many fine...yes two weeks.'
They both stopped, both caught with nothing to say in such circumstances and no memory of what was just said. He took a ragged breath but maintained his stance, still holding tightly to his hat, which Elizabeth noticed, was losing its shape.
'Ah...'
She looked up again as he spoke.
'Ah...good day Miss Bennet. I...'
He said no more but simply turned and strode quite quickly towards the side door. She blushed deeply again as her mind insisted she relive the meeting. She was simply shamed beyond comprehension. Coming to his home was the most foolish thing she had ever done in her life. Any respect he might have left for her would now be destroyed by her senseless actions. It was such a miserable tactic in his eyes. How it would appear that she was throwing herself at him, assessing his home, eager to take what she could. Why did he have to arrive then and why did she have to come this day? Any other day before this would have done. An hour would have done. Oh that she had not tried to delay their arrival. It was so horribly painful to ponder but it was impossible not to. And the way he left. He had no time for her. Yet his eyes, they held no hate. But he had simply left as if he could not bear to be with her.
Her aunt and uncle had immediately moved to her side anxious to hear what was said. From his portrait they had no doubt that he was the master of Pemberley and they began to praise his stance, his manners and even his figure but Elizabeth could not even look them in the eye. She just needed to be gone from this place.
Mr. Darcy strode away, his back burning with colour as he felt she must be watching him. He reached the side door, took a step inside and breathed for the first time since leaving her. He leaned against the wall, hidden from outside view and began short panting breaths to regain his mind. He must calm down and think rationally. She was here. Why was she here? Was she just curious, anxious to see what might have been hers? It did not seem that way. She did not challenge him, tease him. She was feeling as bad as he. She was, she must be.
Still clutching his hat, his mind raced with possibilities. She was here. She was here. Should he go back to her? No, she said she would never have come if she knew he was there. At least he remembered that of her words. He was filled with possibilities and random words of hers but nothing made sense. He could not chase her. It was over. It must be over. He moved down the hall reaching the main entry in less than a minute.
'Mr. Darcy, I just heard of your arrival. Please forgive me for not being ready to meet you,' said Mrs. Reynolds. She frowned as she took in his new look. He was mightily thin and drawn, yet his colour was high.
'Mrs. Reynolds,' he said, still breathing erratically.
'Sir, may I ask if you are unwell? You seem quite disturbed and you have not been eating at all well.'
'I am perfectly well, madam. The lady....outside...the lady, has she been here long?'
'You mean the young lady accompanying the older couple?'
'Yes, the young lady outside!' said Mr. Darcy, his anxiety showing.
'I think they have been here almost an hour sir, perhaps a little more. They have been shown the house and the gardener is escorting them now. Should I not have allowed...'
'Ah, no. She has seen the house then?'
'Yes sir.'
'An hour ... did she say when she would leave?'
'Not that I can remember sir.'
He ran his hands through his hair and frowned.
'Sir? Can I be of assistance? Is there some difficulty?'
'No ... no. Thank you Mrs. Reynolds.
Outside, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had continued to follow the gardener as he led them down to the water and along beside the small lake. Elizabeth had instinctively moved with them but behind, willing herself as far from the house, from him, as she could get. She could not ask them to leave so suddenly without explaining and she could never explain. They seemed unaware of her dilemma and continued to discuss every part that they saw. She followed with no thought of anything other than where he was. They asked her opinions, pointing out various things and she nodded, looking, seeing and hearing nothing but him. Was he watching through some upstairs window? On that thought she hurried her walk a little to recover ground unseen from the house. What did he think of her? He could hardly be happy to see her, not here, not here of all places. She should never be here. Yet his eyes ... his eyes were ... it was impossible that he should still love her!
Mr. Darcy took to the stairs two at a time reaching his rooms within a few minutes of leaving her. She could not hate him. She would never have come if she hated him. Perhaps she had read the letter. Oh that she understood ... forgave. No her words were too strong. She could never forgive. But just now, she was ... uncomfortable but not unwilling to speak ... could it be possible? He walked to his window and looked across the lawn searching for her. Nothing, she had moved within the woods. Suddenly, panic struck him. She might have left, be leaving. He could not let it end again. He must know more.
His voice boomed out for his man, who came running from the dressing room.
'The young lady.'
'Sir?'
'The young lady, in the garden, the woods. She must not leave.'
'I do not understand sir, what lady?'
'The lady on the lawn. She is with the gardener. The carriage must be at the north entrance. It is. I saw it on arrival. Send word that she must not leave.'
'Yes, sir. May I ask...'
'Send word now or go yourself. She must be detained until I ... Go!'
His man walked quickly through the dressing room and disappeared leaving Mr. Darcy alone. He began to rid himself of his travel clothes beginning with his gloves and cravat. His man returned within five minutes.
'It is done, sir. John has been sent to stand by the carriage and detain the young lady as requested.'
'Good. Clothes, clean clothes. Clothes. Water, I need to wash!'
'Yes, sir. Ah, sir you seem ... agitated.'
'Water, Geoffrey, water, clothes. I must change, quickly.'
His man moved to the dressing room where he had already prepared for Mr. Darcy's arrival. However he had no change of clothes on the ready. Mr. Darcy followed, stripping himself of more clothing as he walked. By the time he reached the washstand, his man had the jug ready to pour.
'Just pour it! Over my hands.'
He rubbed his wet hands over his face, grabbing a linen towel to spread the moisture. He peeled off his shirt, dampened the cloth again in the bowl and rubbed it all over his neck, armpits, chest. Grabbing a second cloth he dunked his head as far in the bowl as it would allow and rubbed the cloth over his hair to soak up the moisture. All the while he was issuing instructions for clothes.
'The cream ... no the ... yes the white shirt. Yes, the brown pants. Boots, are my brown boots unpacked?'
'Sir, might I suggest the...'
'Black coat, the new one'
He sat on the stool as his man tugged off his dirty boots then standing, he peeled off his pants. Still holding the damp towel he rubbed every part of him that he could as his man was pulling on the clean shirt.
After some minutes and out of sight of the house, Elizabeth began to regain some sense of her surroundings and felt obliged to comment sensibly so as to avoid any further looks. She could not speak of him to them, not as she wished to speak. She must appear at ease to protect herself...and him. She moved a little closer to her aunt and managed to make a very intelligent and prudent response. Then she slipped back into her thoughts. He was gone and for that she must be thankful. If she could endure this walk, it would be over. Perhaps she could find a way of hurrying them without disclosing her discomposure. They moved through the woods at the rear of the house and walked up a slight incline that allowed filtered views of the valley below. Each step was taking her further from him and for that she would be eternally grateful.
Her uncle then took it upon himself to suggest that they tour the whole park. This could not be. She had to be gone at the earliest possible time. Luck was with her when the gardener informed them that it was ten miles around the park. Only she had the stamina for such a hike. They then continued on the normal visitor's route, winding down to the river once more and across a small bridge. By now Mrs. Gardiner expressed her desire to return to the carriage and Elizabeth immediately assured her that it was probably a prudent move. She must be gone. He had left her with no feeling that he might return. Yes, she felt it was certainly time that they all departed. She attempted to hurry them but Mr. Gardiner was sure the river had trout and upon hearing a splash, he began a slow study of the water hoping to prove his case. Nothing Elizabeth said would hurry them. How could they move so slowly when she was in desperate need to be gone?
Mr. Darcy left the house by the side door, and strode hurriedly to the path through the woods. He could not see her. There was not even a sound of voices or footsteps. Was she already at the carriage? He took a few more strides along the path and caught a glimpse of her frock through the foliage. She was still here. He had now only to approach her.
Elizabeth was about to point out the possibility of fish further down the stream and closer to the carriage when she caught a glimpse of Mr. Darcy on the same path not far from their view but some distance away. She was only a little less surprised than the first time. Had he come back out to see them...to see her? No, he must be about business. He had looked across at her but then disappeared. She moved on knowing it was only some minutes before they reached the carriage and grateful that he had moved away.
She moved in front of her relatives, anxious to return when suddenly right in front of her stood Mr. Darcy. Their eyes caught, held rigid by the many things between them. He smiled. He could not help but smile. She looked at him with more feeling than she had ever experienced. She instinctively smiled back and then immediately withdrew it. To smile was to...oh she could not think properly. He had come to her.
They stood a little apart still looking at each other. She had not run away. There was discomfort, unease and incredible nerves. But there was no hatred and no censure and he had no desire to be anywhere else on the earth.
Chapter 35
It seemed minutes that they stood looking at each other although only seconds had passed. He tilted his head just slightly towards her, visually brushing her face with his eyes. It was so palpable that his fingers moved in response.
'Miss Bennet.'
'Sir.'
'I ... I must apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was ... I should not have left so...'
She looked up at him and instinctively he smiled and nothing could stop her return of pleasure.
'Any apology must be mine, Mr. Darcy. My presence here is quite ... it is an enchanting park, sir.'
'I am glad you think so.'
He had hardly heard her as his eyes filled his heart and blocked every other part of him. There was no room for sense but he must be sensible. He must show her that nothing will end his love. He continued to encompass her totally with his look almost making her forget herself. She felt it necessary to speak and distract herself ... them both.
'The rooms are particularly charming and the garden is delight...'
Suddenly her words rang bells in her head. After their last meeting he would think her praise shallow at best and contrived at worst. She blushed again and he saw the small look of concern cross her face, her eyes. She seemed suddenly withdrawn, moving from him. He knew nothing else to do but attempt to show how much he wanted her to simply like him. And thus he began again.
'Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?'
She looked up in surprise. His voice was undemanding, gentlemanly. He sounded eager to know them and it brought a slight smile to her to think him about to meet those very people he found impossible only two months ago.
'Certainly. Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Aunt and uncle, this is Mr. Darcy.' Elizabeth noticed the slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise as she spoke.
And he was indeed surprised. He thought them acquaintances perhaps, but not relations. His quick perusal showed a couple perfectly dressed with excellent manners. On hearing their relationship to Elizabeth, he felt the squirm of discomfort as he recalled his words of derision about her family. How could he have expressed such thoughts to the woman he loved? And to think that he had never previously considered himself a fool. He must show her that he had been wrong to make such sweeping judgments. He looked directly at them.
'Good morning, sir, madam. I hope you are enjoying your stay in Derbyshire.'
'Good morning, sir. We are indeed enjoying our tour especially having the company of our niece,' replied Mr. Gardiner.
'May I accompany you now, sir? I would be happy to point out some of the features of Pemberley.'
'That would indeed be an honour, sir. I am most interested in the age of the building. It seems to have some additions that although sympathetic, lead me to believe they were added some time after the original was constructed.'
The two men strode slowly ahead of the ladies as the party moved along the path back towards the house. Mr. Darcy used every art of concentration he knew to listen and answer sensibly to Mr. Gardiner and all the while his eyes, his ears and his very being wanted nothing more than to speak to Elizabeth. He spoke just loudly enough for her to hear his replies hoping that she understood his endeavour to atone for his previous mistakes.
'You are very observant, sir. There have been two major additions and during my father's lifetime an effort was made to reconstruct the rear roof line to blend more perfectly with the main building.'
'And the gardens, sir, are definitely sublime. I particularly appreciate the native plants which seem to have been left in the best situations.'
Elizabeth listened intently to this conversation as she followed behind. She felt so pleased to be able to introduce the very best of her relations to Mr. Darcy but as she pondered that, she wondered why it was important to her that he know of them. After all his words she should have little care, but no matter how hard she thought on it, she did care and was gratified to be in their company with him.
'My father, and indeed myself, have found it more restful to allow the garden to take some of its own course. I saw you looking at my stream, Mr. Gardiner. Are you perchance an angler, sir?'
On asking the question, he turned his head towards Mr. Gardiner and looking directly at him was able to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth in the corner of his eye.
Mr. Gardiner smiled. 'Like most, I do try sir. My success does not always measure up to my willingness to participate in the sport though.'
Mr. Darcy stopped walking and turned to the view of the stream enabling him an even better view of Elizabeth as well.
'Sir, you must come and fish here. I am sure you have had little chance since you arrived in Derbyshire and I would be happy to have you as a guest at any time. The best spots are just at the bend there where the stream increases its rate and also at the wider junction where the small rocks are visible. I will instruct my man to fit you out with any tackle you require. In fact I have a very fine new reel fitted with the latest line. It is much finer hair than the older ones therefore making it easier to cast. Do you prefer the traditional Nottingham reel, sir? Personally I find greater success with the new lighter variety as it allows the line to travel more smoothly. I have my man ensure a plentiful supply of flies so please come at any time to suit yourself.
'I am greatly honoured sir and would be happy to take up your offer. Perhaps in a day or two after we settle in Lambton. Mrs. Gardiner has many friends there from her childhood and is anxious to enjoy their society.'
'It would be my pleasure to have you fish here at any time that suits your schedule, sir.'
Elizabeth, arm in arm with her aunt, listened with increasing pleasure as the two men chatted while her aunt was particularly surprised after hearing nothing but words of Mr. Darcy's pride and reserve. In fact she looked to her niece for comment but Elizabeth chose to ignore her aunt's look of wonder as there could be no doubt that his manner was in honour of herself and on that score she was unable to speak. Her mind raced to find other reasons for his behaviour but she continually came back to the most desired reason, that he still loved her. No other explanation would suit. She had little time to ponder why it was a desired reason other than the fact that any woman would be honoured by such devotion. Yes that would do nicely indeed, for now.
After some minutes they had reached the wider part of the river and descended to a closer view of one of the best fishing spots. There, Mrs. Gardiner, never a good walker, found it necessary to rely on stronger support and moved to her husband's arm. Mr. Darcy watched the move with some pleasure and much trepidation. He so wished to be with Elizabeth but had not known how to achieve it without appearing forward. Now he had no option but to walk beside her but in doing so he must restrain from appearing too eager but must never allow her to think he wished to be anywhere else.
Elizabeth also saw the move of her aunt with a great degree of discomfort. She wished to know more of him, of what he felt, what she felt. But how that was to be accomplished on his grounds she did not know. Her very position there was so presumptuous that nothing could clear her head of the need to be gone.
He took a deep breath and moved next to her. His next concern was what to do with his hands. His stick occupied his left and had they been on better terms he might even have offered her his right for support on the slope. But that could not be. Not yet. As he moved to take the first step, she did also, keeping her right hand on her small umbrella and her left bent away from him slightly, avoiding any accidental contact. They moved ahead of the older couple both looking down slightly.
'Mr. Darcy, once again I must tell you that we had been assured of your absence before we came and that your arrival was totally unexpected.' She went on to explain that the information as to his travel plans had come from Mrs. Reynolds.
'Miss Bennet, I did not notify the house of my change of plans. The mistake is all mine in not informing anyone.'
He gave her a quick smile of reassurance and then explained that he had left his party and that they were due the next day. She seemed so quiet and so unlike the Elizabeth he had known in Kent. He so wished to tell her of his guests but to do so was to enter topics that perhaps should be left unexplored. He hesitated for a few seconds but feeling no resistance from her, he went on to tell her that Mr. Bingley and his sisters were in the party.
She glanced up at him and bowed ever so slightly, unable to say with sense the feelings that overcame her. Mr. Darcy had found it just as difficult a subject to broach and felt his colour rise once more. Would he ever stop blushing! He had never felt so much within his feelings. He looked away from her, annoyed with himself for such youthful responses. To have her so close brought his full passion for her to the fore. He felt no different from that walk to Hunsford that day. He had been with her less than fifteen minutes and he was once again caught in the full force of attachment. His heart pounded as he continued by asking her if she would permit him to introduce his sister to her.
Elizabeth was stunned. This was such a great honour and it could come only from his heart. That his sister might want to meet her was astonishing also as it meant that his words about her had not been harsh. Her reply came slowly and carefully.
'Thank you, sir. I would be honoured to meet Miss Darcy.'
He turned from her again, smiling brilliantly up at the trees, not able to utter any words in response. They continued walking, each looking a little aside and each wishing for a topic on which to speak. Despite his perseverance to remain a little distant from her, he could not help notice the slight brush of sleeves and the float of her bonnet ribbon as it moved across his arm in the breeze. And as they walked in total silence, his body changed temperature again and again all in the space of the stroll up the lawn. One minute he was comfortable then thoughts unsaid would cross his mind and he felt his fervour for her overcome him as perspiration ran down his chest. They were nearing the carriage now and he frantically sought a means of keeping her at Pemberley. No time with her would be enough from this moment. He slowed the pace as much as was possible without drawing attention to his cause but nothing would stop their progress.
For Elizabeth, the walk had brought a new awareness of him as a man and not just as someone she ought to dislike. When he spoke to her his voice was soft quite often touched with emotion. She had chosen to think of other reasons in their previous connections but knowing what she did now, she could no longer think clearly. He was so tall and so often as he spoke his head leaned down to her making it impossible to look up at him. To do so was to expose herself to a vulnerability she was not yet ready to acknowledge. No it was much better to look straight ahead.
Upon arrival at the north door, they both turned to observe their fellow walkers and found them at least a quarter of a mile further back. He was almost overjoyed to see the distance. He could not have hoped for such a time with her. Elizabeth saw the distance as a dilemma. She needed to be away from him, to secure her increasing awareness of him. She glanced quickly at him, unsure whether to speak or simply wait silently. He too was lost in the moment, his mind filled with endless possibilities for this time and unable to process any of them sensibly. In desperation for her to stay he spoke.
'Miss Bennet, might I suggest we go inside? I am sure you would like some refreshment after your walk.'
'Oh Mr. Darcy, that is most kind but as you know I am very much a walker and your park did not tire me at all.'
She paused, frantically searching for a subject on which to proceed and at the same time frantically wishing to be gone. Her emotions were so confused. Every movement of his was exaggerated in her mind and his words spoke only of his desperation for her to stay. She felt the slight slump of his body as she refused his offer but she was not able to understand herself enough to enter his home with him. The space between them seemed filled with their joint past and neither knew how to see through it. After what seemed like some minutes Elizabeth broke the silence with the only thing she could consider safe.
'We have seen many great houses on our travels in Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy.' As her voice trailed off she thought what a silly statement that was.
'I am sure you have Miss Bennet,' he replied with just as much mortification at such small talk. However, he too could find nothing else that would allow him to hear her voice and stand by her, so he continued.
'And might I ask which is your favourite so far, Miss Bennet, Matlock or Dove Dale?'
Unable to resist her natural temperament any longer, she looked up at him.
'Are you sure you want my answer Mr. Darcy? Knowing your relationship to Matlock it seems that my answer should be already written.'
He smiled. Oh the joy of having his Elizabeth back with him.
'Indeed it is not, Miss Bennet. I am quite willing to accept your opinion on either. My relations are quite understanding of the defects of Matlock.'
'But that directs me to express that it is defective, which brings me back to my point, sir. My answer is already assured.'
'I assure you madam that your answers are never assured.'
As he said it, he knew his mistake! Dear god, what a fool love makes of a man. She will walk away. He had seconds to recover and so he smiled at her as he spoke, hoping to tell her with an earnest look that he held no resentment.
She blushed and turned her eyes down, feeling his affection more than ever before. To be so liberal with her, so open, could mean only that he still loved her. She looked towards their companions who still had some distance to reach them. But she did not move. She remained beside him, showing no need to be anywhere else. And once again he raised his face to the sky, to the trees. If only he had time to plan...to...no he must move on. He must trust his judgment and instinct, as they were all he had access to in the spinning whirl of his soul.
He heard her give a little sigh indicating to him her inability to find something to talk about but he would not let it rest so easily.
'Do you travel often with your aunt and uncle, Miss Bennet?'
'Not often. Both my sister Jane and I visit them in town but my uncle's business rarely leaves time for extended travel.'
'Do you enjoy travel, Miss Bennet?'
Elizabeth sighed again, only too aware that he was seeking anything to say. Their joint discomfort had become too difficult and she at least needed time from him to consider her feelings. Mr. Darcy was not that rational. He only knew that she was here and he had her to himself and nothing could improve on that.
'I do very much, sir,' she replied and looked again to her relatives who thankfully were now quite close.
He stepped forward to them and bowed.
'Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, would you please accept some refreshment in the house? I am sure you would like a short rest before returning.'
'Thank you sir, but I think my wife would prefer to get to Lambton,' said Mr. Gardiner.
'It really would be an honour, sir. And it would no doubt ensure a more restful journey.'
Elizabeth could hear the slight strain in his voice as he pressed them further to stay. Oh what humiliation this whole morning had been. He had simply got off his horse and suddenly found her standing on his lawn. Could there be any greater shock? She had always suspected that he might be there but for him there was no such advice. Was it possible he could see through her blatant imposition and still feel affection for her? It certainly seemed so but this was a topic that she could think no further on in his presence and she was ever grateful when her uncle once again refused.
'Once again, I thank you sir but I am sure you require some rest yourself. After all you have just arrived. Good day Mr. Darcy.'
He had exhausted all possibilities. She must leave. He took a deep breath and proceeded.
'Good day, Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner. Good day Miss Bennet.'
'Good day, Mr. Darcy. Thank you again for accompanying us on the tour of Pemberley. It was most gracious,' said Elizabeth.
'It was my pleasure, Miss Bennet. I hope that it met all your expectations.'
He lifted his arm to assist her into the carriage after her relatives and bowed slightly as the carriage pulled away. Her bonnet was burning as she felt his watch on her as they left and she felt compelled to turn as the carriage made the gate. She was suddenly disappointed as she saw him walking slowly towards the house. Then, just as her eyes turned back he glanced once more towards the carriage and if they had been closer he might have caught her eye. But she did not look back again and Mr. Darcy strode inside before they were out of sight, already planning what was to be done tomorrow.
Once they had left his grounds, Elizabeth had to contend with continuous talk of Mr. Darcy including his stature and attitude which were judged somewhat above ordinary gentlemen and extremely polite. Her uncle found his whole manner quite surprising considering the slight acquaintance that he had with his niece while Mrs. Gardiner considered him not quite as handsome as Mr. Wickham but did wonder why Elizabeth had found him disagreeable.
Elizabeth sat perplexed knowing that she had spent some time building up the austere and proud reputation that Mr. Darcy had with her friends and family. The things she had said! And like all ladies of intelligence and wit she felt her best way to counter that or at least to begin to counter it was to begin again hoping to just as gradually change their minds.
'Perhaps I exaggerated a little. I had little time to get to know him in Hertfordshire. He was much more agreeable in Kent, though this morning I found him more pleasant than ever before.'
It was enough, she could not continue.
On hearing this, her uncle quickly decided that perhaps Mr. Darcy was of a changeable nature and would withdraw his offer for fishing. All this was so much for Elizabeth to take in and she knew that they had entirely the wrong impression of Mr. Darcy but she found herself unable to speak further without some emotions appearing that she herself had yet to fully discover.
Her relatives however had no such reserve and continued on a discourse about his dealings with Mr. Wickham stating that he did not appear the kind of man to do another such wrong. On this Elizabeth had to speak. She could not sit by and have his character perhaps misunderstood when she knew the full details.
'I have heard that the dealings between them could have been misconstrued. Mr. Darcy's relations in Kent seemed it was so. In fact it appears that Mr. Wickham is much less than we thought and Mr. Darcy much more. It was stated to me that Mr. Darcy offered Mr. Wickham an amount of three thousand pounds when he refused the living and that it was Mr. Wickham who found that insufficient and requested the living for a second time.'
Hearing her niece with such particulars and finding them quite the opposite to what had been spread, surprised and worried her aunt but the journey to Lambton was nearly over and thankfully for Elizabeth her aunt was distracted by the approaching scenes.
At Pemberley, Mr. Darcy entered the house quietly, hoping to escape notice. However, he was approached immediately by Mrs. Reynolds.
'Sir, may I have a word?'
'Ah, certainly. I will be in my library in a quarter of an hour.'
He took to the stairs and his rooms immediately, shedding his outer coat and plunging into his favourite chair to think. He needed time to record and store all the moments with her. Nothing could be lost at this time. She was not angry, of that he had no doubt. She was somewhat nervous but so was he. But she spoke to him, smiled at him. There was no hint of that evening...nothing that showed she still harboured such dislike for him. The letter, could she have understood him, forgiven him? Everything seemed to lean that way. Nothing else would come to mind that would bring such a change in her. For she had changed. She was not baiting him with her wit or challenging him with her eyes. She was all softness and ... he leaned back breathing deeply suppressing his urge to shout with joy and announce his feelings to the world. He had little time to reflect further before descending to his library where Mrs. Reynolds was waiting.
'Mrs. Reynolds, come in. I am sorry I did not inform you of my early return but it became necessary for me to arrive before my party. There will be four of them to begin with along with Miss Darcy of course. There will also be a party of four arriving next week. By Friday I suspect but I will confirm that.'
'Thank you sir. Have you any preference for the necessary rooms? The east wing has been thoroughly emptied and cleaned in your absence but the carpets in the north wing have still to be beaten and the closets have not been aired.'
'The east wing is perfect, madam. Mr. Bingley's party will require three rooms.'
'Mr. Bingley is coming with his sisters and Mr. Hurst?'
'Ah, yes. I ... I thought I told you of whom my party consisted.'
'I'm sorry, sir, perhaps I did not hear.'
'You are too forgiving of me Mrs. Reynolds.'
'Sir, I...'
'You may speak up madam. I have no secrets from you.'
'Sir you are very thin. Perhaps I might even extend to gaunt. Have you been ill sir?'
'No, Mrs. Reynolds, I have not been ill. At least not ill in the true sense but perhaps there are those who would consider my previous state as somewhat ill-favoured.'
'Then sir you should eat a little more. I never like that life in town sir. You know I do not and I am continually proved right. And how is dear Miss Darcy? I do hope she has been eating sufficient and not running around town all day and night.'
'I am sure you will be happy with my sister, Mrs. Reynolds. Now has the furniture arrived? And the pianoforte?'
'Yes sir. And I might tell you sir that the cart was quite lacking in protection from the weather. It is just lucky that it did not rain during the journey.'
'Is that all, madam? I have some business to attend to.'
'It is, sir. But lunch is ready and you have taken no refreshment since your return. I insist you accompany me to the breakfast room now.'
He raised his eyebrows and turned to follow her. He was in no mood to battle with Mrs. Reynolds. This afternoon he must begin to plan.
He ate quite a hearty lunch but not sufficient to please his housekeeper. She supervised the clearing of dishes and a number of sighs were audible as she lifted the lids on the various unfinished dishes. He smiled to himself. No man on earth could have consumed what she had put in front of him.
He left the breakfast room through the French doors and moved to the lawn once more, strolling to the lake's edge to sit and reflect. Looking across at her position he could envisage the mirage of Elizabeth standing there looking straight at him. He would never forget that moment. He had ridden so hard to get here and deal with her absence and then to find her...that knowing smile spread across his face again. He had to see her once more but his party would arrive early and he must greet his sister at least. There was nothing to do but leave as soon as Georgiana was changed. Yes, he would speak to her as soon as she arrived and seek her help in this. Surely she would understand his urgency. He leaned back looking up at the soft clouds building overhead belying the mood he had been in for almost three hours now.
On approaching Lambton, Mrs. Gardiner had pointed out all her favourite haunts and was still chatting on over lunch and well into the afternoon when she caught up with an old friend. Thus dinner and the evening were spent renewing acquaintances and although Elizabeth appeared to show interest, her mind was back in the light of the morning wandering the gravel paths of Pemberley.
That night Mr. Darcy ate a quiet dinner, consuming a little more than usual but far from his normal Pemberley standards. He had seen his steward in the late afternoon but his mind would only allow him to process the most simple of situations. There were too many finer things to consider. He chose to retire quite early, primarily to escape the attention of his staff that was not past the fussing insisted on by Mrs. Reynolds. He took a long bath, requesting renewal of hot water at least twice. After at least half an hour soaking, he stretched out in his sitting room with a brandy and his thoughts. He was deep amongst them when his man knocked softly.
'Yes, Geoffrey?'
'Sir would you be requiring anything special in the morning? Perhaps you have a preference for some particular item of clothing? And sir, would you be requiring a mount or the carriage?'
'Mind reading again, Geoffrey. I will require the carriage but not until Miss Darcy arrives. I will see her as soon as she is rested and changed.'
'Would you like her lady to inform Miss Darcy of that, sir?'
'No, I will deal with that myself. However ensure that Miss Darcy's luggage is all unpacked tonight. I heard the cart arrive some time ago.'
'It did indeed sir and in it were your new black boots which I have ready for the morning. I presume the black coat with the cream pants?'
'And the...'
'...grey silk waistcoat. Yes sir. Good night sir.'
'Geoffrey?'
'Sir?'
'Am I being foolish?'
'Never sir.'
'Blind?'
'Sir?'
'You can answer me.'
'Then yes sir. A little foolish, a little blind, but quite normal under the circumstances sir.
'Normal? I suspect so. Quite distracting though.'
'Quite, sir. Good night.'
He heard the quiet click of the dressing room door.
Elizabeth too had a long bath washing her hair and sitting by the fire while she brushed it. It was almost dry now and the curls were beginning to bounce around her face. She would tie it up tonight or she would have no control over it in the morning. She would wear her cream dress tomorrow and save her pink one for the day after when he brought Miss Darcy to call. Each time she thought of that moment her heart took a leap. The whole village would be abuzz when he came. To hold her in such honour was something indeed. She ran over in her mind what she would say to his sister and how she would answer her questions. She was young to be sure but being of such a family meant that she would be quite proud, no doubt. Thank heavens she had her aunt and uncle for support, the very best of relatives. She hastened to her bed at ten o'clock and lay awake for some quarter of an hour picturing different parts of her day. To think that a simple redirection on their route had brought such a change in plans...and thoughts. She was glad to have seen him again after his letter. It had settled so much in her mind and now she had only to deal with his feelings and the way they might change hers.
Mr. Darcy slipped under the covers at almost midnight and lay thinking only of her at Pemberley. In fact it had quite overtaken him. He had thought so often of it but the fact was so different. Now he had the actuality of her voice, her looks, her ... everything of her. And now he knew it was not enough. He must have her here always. Was that possible? He tried desperately to withdraw from such thoughts. His wishes had destroyed his life already and he had no wish to be in that state again. He must go slowly, yes slowly. And as his body slowed at the end of the day, he tried to slow down his thoughts and plans telling himself that it could never be and all the while his heart raced in betrayal, taking paths that all lead to her. He drifted to sleep some two hours after retiring, his heart having achieved its purpose by driving his mind and his body into a whirl of yearning that left him lying in the cradle of her imaginary arms.