Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Chapter 8
Posted on Monday, 21 April 2008
Mr. Darcy chuckled against her chest, his lips still pressed to the cross that hung there, his breath tickling her most deliciously. Elizabeth took his face in her hands and held him slightly away to get a good look at him.
"Are you sure I did not hurt you?" He shook his head, tossing his wide grin from side to side. Satisfied he was well, she said thoughtfully, "I must have lost my punch since this morning. Mr. Wickham certainly did not laugh."
"Perhaps it was the scratch or the kick that robbed him of his good humor," Mr. Darcy ventured, his good humor clearly intact.
"Perhaps, Mr. Darcy."
"I am ‘Mr. Darcy' again? What happened to ‘Fitzwilliam, darling'?"
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, then said, "If you are uninjured, we need to get up. This is improper."
She let go of him and they rose to stand awkwardly together beside the curricle.
She took a deep breath. "We still have a problem at hand, sir, and I would prefer to discuss it with Mr. Darcy rather than Fitzwilliam." He nodded. "What of my family, Mr. Darcy? It is all well and good that I failed to do you a permanent harm and that you so admire my cross," they both blushed again, "but I am still uneasy about your attitude toward my family."
He looked at the ground and pursed his lips. She grew anxious--this was important. If he despised her family, how could he not come to despise her? She could never marry a man who despised her, no matter how handsome his smile, or how gentle his caring concern, or how delicious his kisses. There must be mutual respect between husband and wife. If she had learned nothing else growing up at Longbourn, she had learned that.
"Miss Bennet," he said at last, "it is true that the behavior of some members of your family does trouble me. I will not lie to you." She began to bristle and he quickly put a hand on her arm. "Please, hear me out. I will not lie and say that I do not wish they all behaved properly at all times. But today I have learned that you find my behavior--not my family's behavior, but mine--sadly lacking in some important ways. I recall some talk of arrogance and disdain."
Now she could not keep the smile from her face, he reasoned so sweetly, and he answered it with a smile of his own before continuing, "So perhaps some tolerance is called for on all sides." He held his arms out. "You must tolerate my vanity, my arrogance, my selfishness; and I must tolerate your family's, uh, quirks, and try to bear in mind that you have not yet encountered my relations."
"So," she replied, "you describe our felicity in terms of a mathematical equation: your faults are negated by my family's faults, and since my faults are clearly inconsequential," he laughed, "we achieve perfect happiness. Well, sir, who am I to disagree with your admirable calculus?"
She suddenly reached up to kiss his cheek again, and said tenderly, "Your prescription for tolerance is very admirable . . . Fitzwilliam." She raised an eyebrow. "I will be happy to see it in action."
His smile disappeared and he scowled at her. Just as she began to worry that she had offended him somehow, he said with startling intensity, "Did you mean it? Am I your love?"
So he had noticed it. All she could do was tell the truth. "I do not know. I'm not sure why I said it, it just came out. I was so worried that I had injured you." She walked a few steps away from him and cried, "How can I love you? I despised you this morning. Oh, this is impossible."
He leaned back against the curricle and continued to scowl at her. She stared back, wondering how angry he was.
"Then I suppose," he said after a moment, in a remarkably soft tone, "that I had better do a good job of courting you." She beamed him her brightest smile and he laughed. "And now is probably when I should begin exercising moderate moderation. May I drive you to Darcy House, madam?" He held out his hand to assist her.
"I am not sure, sir. This moderate moderation of which you speak, is that the equivalent of no moderation, of immoderation? The term is in essence a double negative, is it not? Can the behavior of an immoderate gentleman be trusted?"
She gave him a teasing smile and was very pleased to see the darkening of his gaze. Moderation was evidently proving to be a struggle for Mr. Darcy. She didn't dare glance any lower.
"I imagine," he said, his hand still extended, "that it would depend upon what particular aspect of behavior one wished to moderate. I promise that during the remainder of our journey I will not indulge in gluttony, I will not drink the remainder of my cousin's wine, and I will not push my team or my equipage beyond their limits."
He stepped closer, and his outstretched hand toyed lightly with the cross below her throat. "But I hope you will always tell me when my behavior fails to please you, Elizabeth."
With that, he dropped the cross and reached a finger just beneath the neckline of her spencer. Elizabeth gasped but resisted the urge to press her bosom against his hand as he gently pulled her closer for a soft kiss.
"And now, madam," he said in a husky voice, "we should truly get a move on."
She was a little surprised that she could move when he helped her up to her seat. She certainly could not speak. She simply smiled at him as they started down the road.
After a time, when the countryside had receded and they had entered the town proper, Mr. Darcy said, "Miss Bennet, are you well? It has been some time since you have spoken."
"Do you speak as a rule while riding in a curricle, Mr. Darcy?"
He threw his head back and laughed. "Yes, let us talk of the width of the road and how well it accommodates my team, since books are a taboo subject."
Oh, she liked this Mr. Darcy. Fitzwilliam. Where had he been during the autumn? He had not been in Hertfordshire, that was for sure. Was any of this to be trusted? She shook her head and decided to simply enjoy the process of courtship, of getting to know this complex but apparently very good sort of man. She felt confident that, whatever the outcome--and he had said that he was undecided whether to offer for her--it would not be a dull journey.
"I begin to think, sir, that I was in some error that night when we danced. What books have you lately read?"
They discussed a certain historical work with great energy for the next quarter hour until they pulled up before Darcy House. Elizabeth was so caught up in the discussion--for Mr. Darcy proved to be at least as perceptive and clever as her father--that she hadn't remembered to feel nervous about meeting Miss Darcy.
It was not until they stopped and a groom raced out to the horses, that she remembered her strange situation. She was about to meet Mr. Darcy's sister, Miss Bingley's "Dear Georgiana", the girl who had been set up as Jane's rival, the young lady Mr. Wickham had described as very proud even though he had tried to take heinous advantage of her.
Elizabeth fidgeted with her skirt as she waited to be helped down. Mr. Darcy came around and offered her his hand just as a young lady appeared in the doorway of the stately house. She seemed delighted until she saw Elizabeth; then a look of alarm came over her and she cast her eyes to the ground.
The poor girl, thought Elizabeth.
Two gentlemen appeared behind the young lady, one about Mr. Darcy's age, the other much older, almost elderly. They also stopped at the sight of Mr. Darcy helping Elizabeth to the ground, their looks of blank surprise comically identical. Elizabeth could not help it, she began to laugh and quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
Mr. Darcy turned to the small group in the doorway. His face lit up and he said, "Georgie, Richard, Uncle! It is good to see you. Allow me to introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
Oh dear!
Chapter 9
"Miss Bennet, this is my sister Georgiana, my uncle Lord Matlock, and my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam."
Bows and curtsies were exchanged--the earl's no more than a slight nod--and Elizabeth was suddenly conscious of her disheveled appearance. The urge to frantically--no, eagerly--brush at her clothes and fuss with her hair, nearly overcame her. She hoped beyond hope that Mr. Darcy would have told her if her appearance would be unacceptable to his family. He certainly paid close enough attention to her to have noticed if it were so, and she began to be irrationally angry with him just in case he had let her appear before his relations in irredeemable disarray.
He led her by the hand to his sister who said quietly, "Miss Bennet, I am very pleased to meet you."
"As am I, Miss Bennet," said the Colonel with a charming smile on his rather plain face. "This is a happy surprise. Darcy has spoken of you often." He cast what he apparently thought was a sly look at his cousin.
Elizabeth barely had time to register her surprise that the Colonel had heard of her, before Darcy began speaking again.
"Uncle," he said, "I met Miss Bennet in Hertfordshire last fall. Her father's estate is only three miles from the estate that my friend Bingley leased near Meryton, and we were often in company."
Recognition now lit Miss Darcy's face, and she observed Elizabeth from under lowered lashes.
Colonel Fitzwilliam deadpanned, "I knew you were not going the fast way back to town, Darcy, but I had no idea you would go via Hertfordshire."
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I was very fortunate to meet Miss Bennet on the way. Shall we all go inside?"
"Brother," said Miss Darcy, "Uncle Matlock and cousin Richard were just leaving."
"Nonsense," bellowed Lord Matlock, "I would like to get to know your brother's friend better."
The earl's manner was not unpleasant, but neither was it particularly welcoming, and Elizabeth thought longingly of the trepidation she had felt when meeting Miss Darcy was her only concern.
Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth into the foyer, and the others followed. As expected, the interior was very grand, with elegant, well-maintained furnishings and fixtures, but nothing was uselessly fine or gaudy. All in all, it appeared to be the lovely yet serviceable home of a wealthy man. Elizabeth was quite pleased with Mr. Darcy's taste.
"I came upon Miss Bennet by chance on one of her walks," Mr. Darcy said. "You will recall, Georgie, how I mentioned in one of my letters that Miss Bennet is fond of long hikes. Would you care to refresh yourself now, Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth smiled brightly at Mr. Darcy's explanation. She was caught between astonishment that he had mentioned her in a letter to his sister, and amusement that he had just skirted about as close to a lie as one could who abhorred disguise of every sort. In her heightened state of anxiety, giddiness lurked dangerously close to the surface, and she had to look away to avoid breaking out into laughter. Unfortunately her gaze fell on the Colonel's knowing smirk, and her mirth erupted against the back of her hand, sounding like a cross between a cough and a bark.
Mr. Darcy evidently chose to interpret it as the former. Anxiously, he said, "Good heavens, you may have caught cold. Please, Georgiana will show you where you can rest."
Miss Darcy said, "Oh, yes, please come with me, Miss Bennet," and took her by the hand.
On her way up the stairs, Elizabeth did not dare glance at Mr. Darcy or his cousin, so she nodded to Lord Matlock with as blank an expression as she could muster. As her hostess showed her through a door into one of the second floor chambers, she heard the earl say, "What a peculiar young lady."
Her mortification was complete. She was certain that every inch of her must have turned bright red, and she could not bear to look at Miss Darcy. Now she admitted to herself how desperately she had wanted to make a good impression, to make it easier for his illustrious family to accept her. To make it easier for him to accept her. Oh, why had she had to meet his lordship today when she was completely unprepared!
"Miss Bennet," Miss Darcy said in her quiet voice, "I am so sorry. My uncle sometimes speaks rather loudly. I hope he did not offend you."
Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy and saw so much concern, so much anxiety to please, that she felt a rush of sympathy for the poor girl, and her own courage began to rise once more.
"You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Darcy. You know what they say about eavesdroppers--they never hear anything good about themselves. I know," she said with a laugh, "I have more experience in this area than I should wish to. I had just hoped to make a good impression. I would hate to embarrass you and your brother. I am your guest, after all."
Miss Darcy's face took on a determined look. "Yes, yes you are our guest. So please feel welcomed. You are welcome. We are honored to have you. There is soap and water here, and a sofa and bed if you would like to rest. Do you need a maid? I will have my maid visit you."
Elizabeth was pleased to see the increase in Miss Darcy's spirits, and more than a little amused at the somewhat haphazard manner in which she sought to fulfill her duties as hostess. She was clearly not much used to it. Well, here was one member of the family--and the most important one, if she knew Mr. Darcy--who seemed to like her.
"Thank you, Miss Darcy, you are very kind. That sounds wonderful. May I send a note to my aunt?"
"Of course. There are writing supplies on the table."
Elizabeth wrote a short note with almost no details, thus avoiding committing any lies to paper, and Miss Darcy promised to have it delivered. Elizabeth then removed her dress, petticoat and stockings with the maid's help. While her outer garments were brushed and cleaned, she freshened up with soap and water, and then rested on the large bed--she actually had to hop up to get on it. It was very cozy, and the house was so quiet, and the bedclothes smelled very fresh, a little like those flowers that grew near . . .
"Miss Bennet? Your aunt and sister are here. Miss Bennet?"
Elizabeth opened her eyes and was startled to see a stranger looming above her. "Oh!" she cried. Then her wits returned and she remembered where she was. "Miss Darcy, I am sorry. How long have I been asleep? What time is it? Oh, did you say my aunt and sister are here?"
"Yes, they have only just arrived and are staying for tea. Do not worry, they promised not to leave without you."
Elizabeth had to look twice to assure herself that Miss Darcy had just teased her. She laughed and said, "Oh, that is reassuring. Thank you. They often do, you know, they are always leaving me somewhere." But then she colored, remembering that someone had abandoned her just that morning. She patted Miss Darcy's arm and glanced around the room. "What time is it?"
"It is almost three-thirty. You have only been asleep for about an hour." Miss Darcy grinned diffidently. "I believe you needed the rest."
"Yes, my walk was a little more strenuous than usual this morning. Where are my clothes?"
"In the dressing room." Georgina pointed to a door on the wall opposite the bed.
"Oh, I had not noticed that. Thank you."
In the dressing room she found her dress, petticoat, stockings, spencer and bonnet carefully laid out. They smelled fresh and clean and felt warm to the touch. "Are those my shoes?" she cried, pointing to a pair of slippers on the dressing table. She picked them up. "They look like new."
"We could not repair the sole, but they are clean. Here," said Miss Darcy, coming forward into the little room, "let me help you with your dress and your hair." Then she stopped and said, "Oh, I mean, unless you would prefer the maid to help you." Her voice trailed off.
Oh dear, thought Elizabeth, the poor girl is desperate for a friend. She wondered at the propriety of Miss Darcy of Pemberley helping her in such a way.
"Are you certain you would not mind?"
"Oh, no. I would enjoy it." Miss Darcy picked up the dress and enthusiastically shook it out. "My cousins and I occasionally help each other, though only when my aunts are not looking."
Elizabeth smiled and asked, "How well does Colonel Fitzwilliam do the work of a lady's maid?"
Miss Darcy froze and gaped at her for several seconds before Elizabeth burst into laughter.
"You are teasing me!" Miss Darcy accused with a soft grin. "I suppose I should have clarified that I was referring to my female cousins."
Her smile now grew as wide as her brother's, and Elizabeth decided that she was a very likeable young lady. She finished dressing and together they went downstairs for tea.
Chapter 10
Elizabeth and Miss Darcy found the drawing room's five occupants seated in two groups. One group, cheerful and animated, included Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Gardiner, while on the other side of the room a flushed, smiling Lord Matlock was engrossed--there was no other word for it--with a bemused Jane.
"Lizzy!" cried Jane and Mrs. Gardiner almost simultaneously. They each stood and rushed over to her.
"Jane, aunt, surely you can do better than that. Very poor harmony!"
The room erupted into laughter as Elizabeth's relations led her to the couch where Mrs. Gardiner had been sitting. Everyone else took a seat close by, with the earl looking a little disgruntled at having lost the exclusive attention of his fair companion. Tea was served, and pleasant conversation ensued.
"Aunt," Elizabeth said, "I wrote that I would be home soon. You did not have to come after me."
"We had planned to wait for you, Lizzy," Jane replied with a gleam in her eye, "but then a rather large carriage arrived in front of my uncle's house, with a message from Miss Darcy asking us to tea."
Elizabeth blushed a little and said, "I am glad you came."
"So am I," commented Mrs. Gardiner with a shrewd look. "Your Mr. Darcy is a very kind man."
Elizabeth hesitated for just a moment, then decided there was no time like the present to bring things out into the open. With a smile at Mr. Darcy, she said, "Yes he is."
He smiled back, both dimples on display. "Not at all. We are happy to have you all here."
Jane briefly forgot herself and gaped wide-eyed at the two of them. Elizabeth laughed and said, "Jane, have you tried these cakes? They are quite delicious. Your kitchen is admirable, Miss Darcy."
The conversation drifted to Elizabeth's reason for being in town, and Miss Darcy and the Fitzwilliams were surprised to hear about her connections in Kent.
"Your cousin is Catherine's parson?" said the Earl, who had briefly taken his attention away from Jane. "Extraordinary!"
"You will be there when Darcy and I arrive?" asked the Colonel.
"That is the plan," Elizabeth said. "I will be staying at the parsonage."
The Colonel seemed delighted. "You play and sing, I understand. That is splendid, no one at Rosings plays and sings. This will be one of our best visits to Rosings ever, eh Darcy?"
Mr. Darcy only smiled and nodded.
The remainder of the visit passed companionably, with the two lovers constantly throwing blushing smiles back and forth. Miss Darcy was brought slightly out of her shell by the combined efforts of Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner. The Colonel clearly found all three of the Gracechurch Street ladies to be quite charming, though Elizabeth suspected that he would have found any three random ladies just as charming. And to the growing amusement of all but the principals, Lord Matlock continued to make every effort to monopolize Jane's attention, to the extent that Elizabeth no longer worried about the impression she herself had made--Jane's serene beauty could compensate for any amount of her own peculiarity, she thought with a grin.
When the time came to leave, it was arranged that Mr. Darcy would call at the Gardiners' house the next afternoon. Farewells were said at the door, and Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth aside.
"I am happy you met my uncle. It was a stroke of luck that he was here when we arrived."
"He seems happy to have met Jane," Elizabeth said with a glance to where the old gentleman was kissing her sister's hand with almost comical gusto.
"Oh, yes. Happy indeed. But he is harmless, quite married. He does like beautiful women, though."
"It is lucky for me that you do not." She smirked at him and blushed as his gaze darkened.
"Yes," he said in a voice close to a whisper, "you are safe here, madam, tease me all you wish. But eventually I will get you alone, and you will pay."
He lifted her hand for a gentle kiss, and Elizabeth feared her knees would give way. She had not anticipated the thrill of undertaking such bold intimacies practically in front of her sister and aunt. It was almost too much, an immoderation to be practiced only in moderation--this thought produced a delighted laugh that caused Mr. Darcy to squeeze her hand and give her a look she would remember late in the night.
Jane and Mrs. Gardiner had shown the good sense not to bring up the unusual circumstances that brought them all to Darcy House, but Elizabeth had little doubt that she would face an inquisition when they returned to Gracechurch Street. She was wrong--it started in the carriage during the ride back.
"Elizabeth Rose Bennet," Jane demanded with fierce determination as soon as they pulled away from the house, "what happened today?"
Mrs. Gardiner took her hand. "Yes, Lizzy, what is going on? You left this morning with the charming Mr. Wickham, and now we find you smiling and giggling like Lydia with Mr. Darcy. And was that polite, handsome young man really the horrible Mr. Darcy you have been telling us of?"
Jane nodded vigorously and said in an accusing voice, "Indeed, aunt, it was the very same Mr. Darcy whom Lizzy is not handsome enough to tempt!"
They both waited expectantly. Oh dear, thought Elizabeth, how do I explain this?
"Well," she began with a sly grin, "I had an eventful curricle ride today."
Jane said, "You are still my little sister, Lizzy. Out with it, or I will tickle you!"
Elizabeth laughed and said, "Oh, mercy, no need for that, dear Jane. Very well. I actually had two eventful rides today, the first with Mr. Wickham, the second with Mr. Darcy. Oh, aunt, you were right about me riding alone with Mr. Wickham. He was not a gentleman."
Jane gasped, and Mrs. Gardiner said in a low, serious tone, "What happened, Lizzy?"
"At first he was just as charming and polite as ever. But after two hours he had consumed almost a whole magnum of champagne, and we were on an isolated road in the farmlands south of town, and he became . . . aggressively amorous."
"Are you alright, niece?"
"Oh, yes, but Mr. Wickham isn't. I scratched him, then I punched him," she held her bruised fist out before their awed gazes, "then I kicked him." She giggled. "Right in his curricle! Then I leapt out and ran a bit, and he simply drove away. With my money, but it was only a few pence."
They were now pulling up in front of the Gardiner house, and Mrs. Gardiner said, "Your uncle doesn't know anything about this yet. I will tell him after I hear the rest of your story, Lizzy. For now, I will just say we had tea with friends, and Lizzy had an interesting excursion this morning."
Mr. Gardiner readily accepted his wife's explanations, but it was not until that night that Elizabeth was able to finish her story. Jane and Mrs. Gardiner joined her in the bedroom she and Jane shared, and as soon as the door latched, Jane asked, "What about Mr. Darcy?"
Elizabeth smiled. "He is quite nice."
Jane pinched her on the arm.
"Ow!" Elizabeth cried with a laugh. "My evil, evil sister! Very well, I will tell my tale. I met Mr. Darcy only by the most fortunate accident. He was returning from his cousin's estate in his own curricle, and he happened to take a leisurely route over the farm roads rather than the high road. And there I was, little unassuming, untempting Lizzy Bennet."
They all laughed, and Mrs. Gardiner said, "He did not look untempted to me, Lizzy. That man admires you a great deal."
"Yes, aunt, I discovered that today during our trip." Elizabeth blushed violently.
"I see. What else did you discover?"
"Oh, aunt! He has admired me for months. When I thought he despised me in Hertfordshire, he admired me."
"Aunt," Jane said thoughtfully, "Lizzy was the only local lady Mr. Darcy ever asked to dance, and he asked three times before she said yes--I wonder if any other lady has ever refused to dance with him? And he was always watching her and talking to her when he spoke to no one else. You know, if not for what he said at the Meryton Assembly, his admiration would have been obvious."
"Oh, yes," said, Elizabeth, "I hate to admit how wounded my vanity was by that comment, and how ready I was to believe the worst of Mr. Darcy because of it. During our ride he told me all the details about his relationship with Mr. Wickham. That man is a liar. He never reconciled with Mr. Darcy. He apparently thought that he could earn my . . . favors if he first convinced me he could marry me. He is a scoundrel."
"So you and Mr. Darcy reconciled your misunderstandings?" asked her aunt.
"For the most part, yes. He asked to court me." Jane gasped and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. "I told him I would like that. He really is a very good man."
"Does he want to marry you, Lizzy?"
"I believe he would like to, aunt, but he needs to resolve some things first. I do not know if he will offer, and I do not know if I would accept." As soon as she said it, she knew it was not true. If Mr. Darcy proposed marriage, she would be a fool not to accept.
Mrs. Gardiner gazed at her intently for a moment, then said, "Was Mr. Darcy a gentleman today?"
"Yes he was," said Elizabeth as she blushed brightly, "he is always a perfect gentleman."
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Gardiner, "it would be best not to tell your mother about this right away."
They all agreed to the good sense of that proposal. Then Mrs. Gardiner said, "Jane, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?"
As Jane made her way out she gave Elizabeth a significant look--they both knew what was coming.
"Lizzy," her aunt said gently when Jane had closed the door, "did either Mr. Wickham or Mr. Darcy compromise you? I want details."
Chapter 11
"No, aunt, I have not been compromised." Elizabeth wished she could keep from blushing. She was certain to be bright red throughout the whole upcoming conversation.
"What did happen? Details, Lizzy."
Oh well, she thought, there is no getting around it. She would not lie to her aunt's face, and she really did have a right to know since Elizabeth was there as her responsibility.
"Mr. Wickham tried to kiss me, here, on my cross. That is when I fought back. Before that, he had kissed my cheek, but I asked him to stop." She chuckled humorlessly. "He really is a coward--he did not even try to kiss my cheek until he had drunk all that champagne."
"It may be that he actually has some conscience, Lizzy. That might have been the reason he got drunk. Is that all he did?"
"That is all I allowed him to do. That is when I beat him up!" She laughed and smiled at her aunt.
Mrs. Gardiner smiled back and patted her hand. "Good girl. What about Mr. Darcy. Is he a coward?"
"No, he is not."
"So he did not need any champagne before kissing you?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"Is that all he did?"
"Yes. Oh, aunt Gardiner, he was truly a gentleman. He warned me first, said he would have trouble behaving well if I did not stop smiling ‘that way'." She giggled, then frowned--she had sounded rather too much like Lydia.
"Did you stop smiling ‘that way'?"
"It seems to be a difficult thing to do. I suppose I'm just a smiler." She looked down to where Mrs. Gardiner still held her hand. "In truth, aunt, I liked it. I like that he likes it so much when I smile that he can not help but kiss me. And then he smiles, and he is most beautiful when he smiles."
"So I noticed. He seemed to be all smiles once you entered the drawing room today. You enjoyed his kisses more than Mr. Wickham's, I take it?"
Elizabeth grinned and nodded.
"Lizzy, I am going to be serious. Mr. Darcy is not like anybody else you know. He is rich and powerful and used to getting whatever he wants in life. He is a man of the world--do you know what that means?"
Elizabeth nodded, then shook her head.
"Among other things, it means he has known women in his bed. And it sounds like that is where he wants you."
"I am not so naïve, aunt. I understand that."
"He is also quite persuasive, is he not? And it is quite flattering to have such a man so interested, is it not?"
"Yes to all of that, aunt," said Elizabeth, who bridled at being lectured to. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Just this, Lizzy. As my grandmother used to tell me," and she began to grin, "no man will buy the cow if he can get the milk for free!"
"Aunt!"
They both laughed, and it was some time before Elizabeth felt composed enough to speak.
"I concede the excellence of your grandmother's wisdom. I had not intended to give away any milk, though Mr. Darcy does seem quite interested in where the milk comes out!"
"Oh, Lizzy," laughed Mrs. Gardiner, "I have spoken to your mother about your gowns, but she is convinced that advertising pays."
"I like my gowns," Elizabeth said impishly. "Gentlemen always compliment them."
"I am sure they do." They laughed again, and her aunt said, "You are not the only one getting this speech. After the way his lordship looked at Jane, I will talk to her tomorrow on the economics of dairy produce. No point in taking chances."
"Now, aunt, please tell me what you thought of Mr. Darcy's behavior today."
"You saw it. He was a perfect gentleman. Really, Lizzy, I would not have recognized him from your description last December."
Elizabeth let out a breath she had not known she was holding. "Thank you, aunt. I will now tell you the final difficulty I see between Mr. Darcy and myself." She raised both eyebrows. "He has a very low opinion of my family."
Mrs. Gardiner gasped. "But he was very welcoming to Jane and me."
"I know, aunt, and I am glad of it. But there are really two problems. First, he considers us beneath him socially. Your husband is in trade and Uncle Phillips is a country attorney, and you met Mr. Darcy's only uncle today, Lord Matlock, and his great-grandfather was a Duke. So that is one problem, though from his behavior today it may not be serious. After all, he apparently had no trouble introducing the wife of my tradesman uncle to his uncle the earl."
"And they were all very gracious. What is the other problem?"
"Mama's and Lydia's and Kitty's behavior. Even Papa's and Mary's to some extent. You know how improperly they behave. Mr. Darcy has seen it too many times. At the Netherfield ball last November, Mama could not be stopped from gloating over what she saw as her imminent triumph of Jane's marriage to Mr. Bingley and my certain future as Mrs. Collins. It was mortifying. She went on and on about how Jane's marriage would throw her other daughters in the path of other rich men, all while Mr. Darcy sat just a few seats away. Then she insulted Mr. Darcy aloud, practically to his face. Oh, it was horrible. And Lydia went racing around with one of the officers' swords."
"What?"
"Oh, yes--there is a girl who needs a lecture on the economics of dairy produce. And my dear cousin Mr. Collins, who was a very drunk clergyman I believe, gave the room a lecture on how he would favor us with a song, if only he could sing, and then he gave a flamboyant bow to Mr. Darcy, nephew of his noble patroness."
"Oh, Lizzy. I had no idea it was so bad, though I did see hints of it over our Christmas visit."
"It was as though my whole family had made a pact to humiliate me. All but dear Jane."
Mrs. Gardiner observed Elizabeth for a few moments with a little smile on her face. "Lizzy, it sounds to me as though you and Mr. Darcy share the same opinion of your family's behavior."
"I know, I know, that is the worst part. I know he has the right of it. But they are my family! They come with me if he marries me, and he must learn to accept them in order to accept me. We can not put up a fence at the Derbyshire border and prevent any and all Bennets from crossing." She smirked. "Though the idea has some appeal."
"You and Mr. Darcy have discussed this, I take it?"
"Mr. Darcy and I had an argument over this." She looked down. "I actually punched him."
"Lizzy!"
"I knocked him clear out of his curricle onto the road."
Her aunt smiled and shook her head. "He looked healthy enough," she said, "and he does not seem to resent it. He strikes me as a very even-tempered young man, very level-headed. Unlike today's other victim of your pugilistic prowess, Mr. Wickham."
"Oh, but I did not kick Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth grinned. "That would probably have altered the course of our relationship somewhat. Men do not seem to appreciate being kicked in their curricle."
Their laughter rang throughout the house.
Chapter 12
The next morning as they were dressing, Jane said, "Miss Darcy seemed a pleasant young lady, Lizzy. Very sweet, though rather shy I think."
"Yes she is," Elizabeth replied. She was unhappy that Jane was broaching the subject of her supposed rival for Mr. Bingley's affections, as she had not yet determined how to provide her sister with reassurance without raising hopes. Mr. Darcy may have been able to persuade Mr. Bingley out of love, but surely it would not be so easy to persuade him back into it. The man must have some spine, she had seen him stand upright on more than one occasion, she thought with a grin.
"Do not smile so at me Lizzy. Do not suspect me of anything. That is all in the past, I assure you."
"Oh no, Jane. I was smiling about something else." But now she could not help but smile brightly at just the subject Jane feared, and said slyly, "Your feelings in this regard are readily apparent. I have no need at all to suspect."
"Oh, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was a very nice, kind and pleasant man, the most appealing I have ever met, I think. But it has been months. It is in the past. You must believe me."
"I think I understand, Jane. Your new beau would not like for you to have any other attachments." Jane stared at her open-mouthed and her eyes began to narrow. With a laugh, Elizabeth continued, "Oh, young love, the first flushes of youth. ‘Alas! That spring should vanish with the rose, that youth's sweet scented manuscript should close!' Ow!"
"And I shall pinch you again, Elizabeth, if you insist on making fun of that sweet old man."
Elizabeth cried, "He is certainly sweet on you, dear sister!" as she darted around the bed, out of pinching range. It was a maneuver that had stood her in good stead with her big sister since early childhood. "I believe that my aunt wants to speak to you on the subject of that sweet old man. Something about dairy produce."
"Yes," Jane said with a blush, "she spoke to me last night before I came to bed. What can she mean by it? He is just a sweet old gentleman. He was only being polite, I am sure."
Elizabeth was not so sure, but she knew that any amorous proposals from his lordship would result in nothing but a laughing refusal on Jane's part to believe that he had intended anything of the sort. She hoped Mr. Bingley would return soon from Scarborough.
That afternoon Mr. Darcy arrived, and after the standard greetings his first words were, "Miss Elizabeth, you look lovely. That is a beautiful dress," and Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner shared a grin. Jane proposed a walk to a nearby park, and the three young people set out, with Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walking in front of Jane.
When they were out of Jane's earshot, Mr. Darcy said, "I could not help but notice your arm, Elizabeth. What happened? Did Mr. Wickham do that to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I saw two distinct bruises on your forearm."
Mr. Darcy's face had darkened, but not with desire. He seemed furious, and Elizabeth briefly feared for Mr. Wickham's well-being. She said quickly, "Oh, that was not Mr. Wickham's doing. It is actually rather embarrassing, sir, but I confess it was my own dear sister who injured me." She laughed at his stunned expression. "She is a pincher, Mr. Darcy. Yes sir, a pincher of the worst sort."
He began to grin and shook his head. "May I ask why she pinched you?"
"We were just being silly. It is truly embarrassing." She smiled brightly at him. "You see, whenever we visit my aunt and uncle Gardiner together, we share a bed," his nostrils flared, which she thought it best to ignore, "as we did when we were small, before grandmama Gardiner passed away and Jane moved into her bedroom at Longbourn. I am afraid that the memories cause us to regress and our behavior becomes shockingly like that of little girls."
"She pinches you?"
Elizabeth nodded smilingly.
"And what do you do?"
"Oh, I mainly just tease. She is two years older, you see, and so when we were little I had to resort to my wiles to defeat her." She lifted both brows. "Much the same way that I defeat you today."
He laughed out loud for some time. As he wiped his eyes he said, "Are you keeping any other foul secrets?"
"I would hardly confess them to you!"
She gaily clutched his arm and they made their way to the pond. Several ducks paddled after bread crumbs thrown by some rowdy children, and she smiled up at Mr. Darcy in delight at their antics. She was surprised to see that his scowl had returned and his face had colored deeply. Then she saw his eyes dart down to where she held onto him, and she realized that she had been hugging his arm tightly to her bosom. As nonchalantly as possible, she let go of him and wandered a few feet away to watch the children. Mr. Darcy turned away from her and walked rapidly about in a large circle.
Oh dear, thought Elizabeth, if ever a man was in need of some milk, it was poor Mr. Darcy! She laughed happily as she watched him make his circuit.
After a time he returned to her. She smiled up at him understandingly as he held his arms out to his side and said, "This is the most ridiculous situation in which I have ever found myself. It can not be normal, that you affect me so!"
He shook his head and they began to stroll around the pond without touching, hands behind their backs or at their sides, not looking at each other. Neither spoke for a while and Elizabeth grew apprehensive as a fear began to plague her.
She eventually gathered her courage and said, "It seems you are still angry with me for bewitching you."
"Oh, no," he cried, "that is not it at all! You are sheer delight!"
She was amazed by his reaction and could not reconcile it to his behavior. "Then why do you scowl so, why not speak to me?" She grabbed hold of his forearm. "What is the matter?"
He looked at her a moment before speaking. "Our situation is not settled. That is the problem. We neither of us have made a true commitment to the other, yet I have such a desire to touch you and kiss you! I cannot do it, it would be wrong. I should not have done it yesterday." He looked out over the pond. "It is a good thing that we will not see each other for three weeks. This has become too intense too quickly. We need to be apart for a time to think clearly."
Elizabeth had enough understanding to replace each "we" in his speech with "I". She now struggled not to read the worst into his desire to separate, but it was impossible. She mumbled, "So, a short unsuccessful courtship." She felt like crying, but refused to give way to tears in the middle of a public park. To think that he had toyed with her affections in such a way. "I wish to return to my uncle's house, Mr. Darcy."
He now looked shocked. "This courtship is not ending, madam, unless you end it."
"Oh, come now, sir. You want to get away from me. You want to forget me, erase this bewitchment from your heart." She was mortified to feel a tear slide down her cheek. "I will not be toyed with. I am returning to my uncle's house."
He reached out and grabbed her arm. She rounded on him and he held his hand up in front of his face, saying, "Peace, madam, my nose might not survive another punch."
She smiled in spite of herself. But she truly did feel like punching him, so she hit him on the shoulder, ignoring the disapproving looks from a few passersby.
"There," she said as she wiped her cheek, "your nose should survive that. It would be a shame to permanently alter so handsome a profile."
He smiled now, his two dimples dazzling her anew, and took both her hands in his. "Let me tell you my problem. I do not wish to end our courtship, only to make certain of the rational aspects or our union. Passion is, well, very persuasive, but it will not serve us for our long-term happiness. I do not want either of us to feel the pain of regret five years hence."
Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose I can understand that. I only have to look at my own family to see the unhappiness that results when passion fades and there is nothing else between a husband and wife." She felt a rush of adrenaline at so narrow an escape from misery, and boldly said, "But Fitzwilliam, I believe that you and I may have much more than passion, or perhaps it would be correct to say we have a rational passion. I am beginning to suspect that we are more alike than I had ever thought. Yet we are different in complementary ways."
"Yes," he said excitedly, "that is exactly what I have thought since we had our discussions at Netherfield when you were nursing your sister. I was so taken with your wit and understanding, your force of personality. I am not used to meeting my equal in such things."
"Nor am I."
"It was delightful. Now, though, I feel such passion that I am afraid to trust the rest. It is a paradox, I think--now that I know what it is to feel this passion I would hate to marry without it, but I am afraid that it is blinding me to reason. Before yesterday, I never expected to see you again and you hated me, and now look where we are."
Yes, Elizabeth thought as they walked on in silence, we are in love--she was certain of it now. She could not fault his reasoning, though. She felt the same apprehension over the suddenness of it all. Perhaps it was a good thing to be apart for a time, no matter how badly she would miss him. Who knows, she thought a little sadly, as unlikely as it seems, in three weeks I may have forgot all about him. She dared not consider the possibility that he might forget about her.
Suddenly he chuckled and said, "I would just like to think about this while blood is actually pumping to my brain, instead of to someplace below my waist."
"I could wear higher necklines."
"Oh, good God!" he cried, and off he went again on his walking circuit while Elizabeth laughed.
Chapter 13
"So," he said without looking at her when he had returned, "you are off to Kent tomorrow."
"Indeed," she said, amused at the alacrity with which he moved the topic away from her necklines, "I am looking forward to seeing Charlotte, and of course I eagerly anticipate viewing the great chimney piece at Rosings."
He smiled. "That's good. It is a majestic thing."
She cleared her throat. "I also look forward to becoming acquainted with your intended, Miss DeBourgh."
He groaned loudly and shook his head.
"Are you leading me on sir? Am I destined to witness your happy flirtations with your cousin during my southern sojourn?"
"I can only imagine where you might have heard about that silliness. Mr. Collins? Or was it my rival for your affections, Mr. Wickham?" He cocked a brow.
"That, sir, is not funny." She smirked. "Actually, I heard it from both of them."
"It is nice to know that I am a good source of gossip. I hate for people to be bored." He watched her anxiously for a moment and said, "It is not true, you know. There is no engagement, it is only my aunt's wish."
"And does Lady Catherine DeBourgh often confuse her wishes with reality?"
He laughed. "Yes, very often. But she has no power over me, and I feel no great affection for her beyond that owed by duty to my mother's sister. This is really nothing but family politics and dynasty building. She sees herself as dowager of both Pemberley and Rosings. In truth, I think she may have always been a little jealous of my mother for being mistress of the greater estate, and now she sees a way of claiming it as her own."
Elizabeth was a little startled to hear him so casually refer to Pemberley as a greater estate than the famous Rosings Park. She had not suspected such a thing, and grinned at the prospect of teasing Mr. Darcy about his chimney pieces.
"Your aunt," she asked, "has no support for her schemes within your family?"
Mr. Darcy now looked distinctly uncomfortable. He said, "No, unfortunately she does have some support. My uncle and cousin--the viscount, not the colonel--would like to see it, as a way of further securing Pemberley and the Darcy name within the Matlock sphere. They are very ambitious and I am very rich with an old name--the same reasons they wanted the marriage between my mother and father."
"So they would not be pleased to see a Bennet tossed into the mix."
"Elizabeth, my first name is Fitzwilliam--they made sure of that--but my family name is Darcy. My father did not care for their scheming, and neither do I. I love my uncle more than my aunt, but he has no more power over me than she does. They have not asked me to approve any of their marriages, and I will not ask them to approve mine."
He is certainly no Mr. Bingley, she thought happily. She was beginning to understand why a sociable but otherwise insecure young man like Mr. Bingley might come to rely so heavily on him. He was clever, independent, dependable and decisive. She could even see herself comfortably depending on him a great deal some day.
"Miss Darcy is a lovely young lady. You have done a good job raising her."
"I have done my best, that is all I will say. But thank you. I love her dearly."
"Was she always so shy, or is that a result of Mr. Wickham's cruelty?"
"No, she was always shy, and unlike me she had no set of heavy responsibilities to force her out of it. But since last summer she is also less decisive, less confident of her judgment. It is sad to see, but I have hopes she will recover. She has already begun, I think."
"Did I understand you correctly? You used to be shy?"
He smiled and nodded. "Indeed. I would barely talk to strangers at all until I went off to school when I was thirteen, after my mother died."
Elizabeth was dumbfounded. Mr. Darcy shy? She shook her head and stared at him.
"I assure you, Elizabeth, I was quite shy. You may apply to Colonel Fitzwilliam if you do not believe me."
"I don't disbelieve you, I am only amazed, as though a talking dog had suddenly appeared before me."
He smiled until both dimples showed. Then he glanced over his shoulders before leaning towards her and saying, "Woof!"
She laughed with glee and almost kissed him right there in the park. Why not, she thought, I punched him in the park!
But before she could act on that singular line of reasoning, Jane called out to her that it was time to return to the house. Elizabeth had forgot all about her and could only imagine what she thought of the goings on she had witnessed at a distance. She grabbed Mr. Darcy's arm and clutched it as tightly to her bosom as she could while they walked back to the Gardiners'. Jane followed with a disapproving frown.
Mr. Darcy had already said his farewells to Mrs. Gardiner, so he did not go back inside. He said goodbye to Elizabeth in the yard while Jane waited in the doorway.
"I do not like this," he said softly. "Do you have to leave tomorrow?"
"Of course. Sir William and Maria will be here to pick me up on their way. Did you not just tell me a half-hour ago that you wanted me to leave?"
"No," he said petulantly. "Only that you should leave."
"And now I should not?"
He pouted very adorably. "I know what I said. Yes, it may be for the best, but that does not mean I must like it." He took her hand and kissed it tenderly. He whispered, "I love you, Elizabeth."
She felt as though her heart would burst from happiness. "I love you, Fitzwilliam," she whispered back.
The effect of her words was immediate. He smiled as brightly as she had ever seen, took her by the shoulders and kissed her on the mouth. "Goodbye my love," he said, "I will see you in Kent. Do not forget me, for I will never forget you."
She watched him ride off until he was out of sight. When she turned around, Jane was looking at her with an expression she could not make out.
"I am sorry for that, Jane. But he loves me." She smiled and Jane grabbed her in both her arms and hugged her.
"Oh, Lizzy," she said through sudden tears, "I am so happy for you. Do you love him, though? Can you? You hated him yesterday morning!"
"Yes, you are correct, but a good memory is unpardonable in a case such as this. This is the last time I shall remember it myself." She laughed. "But, Jane, we are not engaged. I believe that will probably come after Kent, but nothing is yet for certain. I would prefer not to say anything to any one else yet."
Jane giggled and said, "He kissed you like he was certain, Lizzy."
Happily, Elizabeth had to agree.
Arm-in-arm, they went inside where Elizabeth packed for her journey into Kent.
Chapter 14
Posted on Monday, 28 April 2008
Elizabeth and Maria Lucas, on account of their footware, declined Mr. Collins's offer to accompany him and Sir William to inspect his two meadows, and Elizabeth shook her head in wonder at her own recent remark to her aunt that only stupid men were worth knowing. Of course that was before she had actually got to know Mr. Darcy, who was anything but a stupid man. And who was strikingly handsome, and quite well-read, and really very witty when he let his reserve drop . . .
"Eliza, what are you thinking? Your mind is anywhere but Hunsford, my dear," Charlotte said with a grin. "You only just stepped off the chaise. Are you bored with us already?"
"Forgive me, Charlotte. It was nothing."
"It was a pleasant nothing, by the look of you." A sly smile came over her. "I understand from Maria that you had some male companionship in Town."
"Yes, my little cousins are as loveable as ever!"
"Is any one else as loveable as ever? Or perhaps not so odious as he used to be?"
"Maria," Elizabeth cried, "is this your idea of discretion?"
"I only told my sister."
"No doubt because she is the only lady present. Well I hope you will not say anything to anybody else."
Charlotte took Elizabeth's arm and turned to face her. "Do you mean it is true? Mr. Darcy?" She laughed out loud and hugged Elizabeth tightly. "Oh, my dear, such a match!"
"It is not a match yet, Charlotte. He has made me no offer."
"He will," Charlotte said smugly. "Did I not tell you? Did I not say that he always watched you, and with such a look!"
Elizabeth, who now had plenty of evidence regarding the meaning of Mr. Darcy's glances, blushed brightly. Charlotte just laughed and kissed her cheek.
She led them towards the front door of the parsonage and said, "My dear husband will keep my father well occupied for the next week, so you will have ample opportunity to tell me all. And you will tell me all." She suddenly stopped and her eyes went wide. "Oh, Lord! Mr. Darcy will be here in three weeks, for Easter. Lady Catherine has been crowing about it for the past month. Did you know?"
Elizabeth tried to keep a straight face when she nodded, but instead she lit with a glowing smile.
"Oh, dear," her friend said quietly, "not so odious anymore, I dare say."
"No, not odious at all."
"Elizabeth, do you know the reason Lady Catherine so looks forward to Mr. Darcy's visits? He is meant for Miss DeBourgh, my dear. As far as Lady Catherine is concerned, they are engaged to be married."
"I know, but it means nothing to Mr. Darcy. He intends to marry where he chooses."
Charlotte brought her hand to her mouth. "You have actually discussed marriage?"
"Oh, we have discussed many things," Elizabeth smiled impishly, "like curricles and crosses and talking dogs."
"Oh, good heavens. I can just imagine you two, each too quick for anybody else in the room, going on and on about nonsense." She shook her head smilingly.
"Nonsense, dear Charlotte? You call talking dogs nonsense?"
That evening Elizabeth gave Charlotte what details she was prepared to part with, not including Miss Darcy's near elopement, and gave her to understand that she wanted it all kept secret for as long as possible.
"So Mr. Wickham is a villain," said Charlotte. She shook her head. "How you must have felt, Eliza. You trusted him so."
"Yes. I am quite ashamed of it, I assure you. Until Mr. Darcy explained it all, I never knew myself, I never understood how my vanity held such power over me. In future I must fight against falling so much in love with my own powers of discernment." She laughed. "And I accused Mr. Darcy of pride!"
"You met Miss Darcy?"
"Yes, and Lord Matlock and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy's uncle and cousin. They were very pleasant."
Charlotte frowned. "I am afraid Lady Catherine will not be pleasant. As Mr. Collins is always ready to point out, she likes to have the distinctions of rank preserved. This intermingling of the classes will not go well with her."
"She shall not know, at least not for three weeks."
"But Eliza, her family is certain to be discussed. Her nephew and his great estate are among her favorite topics, along with her brother the earl. She is very proud of being a Fitzwilliam. What will you do, nod your head mutely?" Charlotte grinned. "Can you do anything mutely, Elizabeth?"
"You make me sound like a giddy, jabbering fool, Charlotte!"
"Never a fool, dear, but you do like to express your opinion, especially when you believe a wrong has been done. We are likely to hear about Mr. Darcy's impending marriage to Miss DeBourgh--will you then be able to remain silent?"
Elizabeth chewed her lip. "I suppose we will find out. I have no desire for a confrontation with Lady Catherine. I intend to let Sir Darcy slay that dragon on my behalf!"
"What nonsense," Charlotte said with a happy smile.
Over following three days, the Hunsford party visited Rosings twice, including tea after church on Sunday, and Elizabeth was able to observe the Rosings ladies close at hand. Lady Catherine was as she had supposed, haughty and proud, so unlike her nephew Mr. Darcy. Miss DeBourgh was small, frail, sickly and cross, and with some relief Elizabeth decided that she could not possibly make Mr. Darcy a proper wife.
The grandeur of Rosings too was as advertised. Whenever she contemplated Mr. Darcy's remark that it was not as great an estate as Pemberley, Elizabeth would marvel anew that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something! She tried not to hope, but it was futile, and she viewed everything around her with the almost proprietary air of a niece-in-law. She even inquired about the family apartments, feeling some confidence that during future trips to Kent she would not be staying at the parsonage. She began to long for Mr. Darcy's arrival, for his company, for his kisses, and most of all for his proposal.
Through it all, Elizabeth was able to hold her tongue. Lady Catherine's comments about Mr. Darcy's upcoming marriage to her daughter were simply absurd, and Elizabeth gave them no more consideration than her ladyship's remarks on the impropriety of all the Bennet sisters being out in society at once. She resolved to enjoy her time while waiting for Mr. Darcy's arrival. She walked daily, she explored with Charlotte and Maria, she read, she worked and she relaxed.
Around noon on Monday, only four days after Elizabeth's arrival in Kent, Maria rushed into her bedroom crying in agitation, "Eliza, dear, come right away! Downstairs now!"
"What," Elizabeth said with a laugh, "have the pigs got into the garden?"
She followed Maria down the stairs and into the drawing room, where she found Mr. Darcy.