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Part Fourteen

Posted on Wednesday, 31 May 2006

"Flat."

"What?" Elizabeth blinked. She spun around to see Mary sitting behind her. She had not heard her enter the room.

"The A should be flat, I think."

Elizabeth turned back to the music over which she had laboured for the last quarter of an hour. She repeated the offending chord with the alteration Mary suggested. "Ah!" She smiled at the improvement in sound. "That was it exactly, Mary. Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Elizabeth toiled a little longer, paying closer attention to the page before her. When she had had quite enough, she got up from the pianoforte and saw that Mary was still there. "Do you wish to try it now?"

"May I?"

"Of course! I should like it if you did." She was not in the habit of asking her younger sister to play to her, but Mary always had been the better musician of the two and was far less apt to have difficulty working her way through the music. Though the performance might be uninspired, at least all the correct notes would be pressed; Mary's penchant for practice had made her accurate, if nothing else.

Mary had moved with alacrity towards the instrument, and Elizabeth saw her eyes light up with anticipation as she reached for the pages. "I appreciate your patience, Mary." She probably had interrupted her sister's routine. "I know you are not accustomed to waiting."

Mary seemed to consider her words. "I have rarely seen you here this early in the day."

"I found, this morning, that I missed a habit I had established while in Hunsford. Lady Catherine recommended that I improve my skills, and as she also provided the means for me to do so, I could not refuse." She smiled at the memory of her first visit to Mrs. Jenkinson's room and the improbable appearance of Mr. Darcy at the door. She recalled the way he had stood there with his eyes closed, listening to her sing; she grinned at the thought of him disappearing from the doorway like a phantom.

"Did you purchase this while in Kent or in London?"

"I did not purchase it." Elizabeth blushed. "Mr. Darcy gave it to me as a gift."

"Oh." Mary looked awkward. "Congratulations on your engagement. Mama told me of it last night, but you had already retired."

"I suspected as much." From behind the closed door of her room, Elizabeth had heard her mother's voice ring out as she spread the happy news throughout the house.

"Are you pleased?"

"I am."

"I suppose he will buy you whatever music you like, since he is so rich."

"Mary," Elizabeth laughed, "you know that as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I can buy whatever music I wish. I do not need a rich husband for that! Papa is not so ungenerous with our pocket money, is he?"

"No, indeed," Mary stammered. "I only meant..."

"That I shall have endless resources at my disposal?"

"Why did you agree to marry him?"

Elizabeth felt insulted and almost refused to answer, but she reasoned that if anyone had the right to question her, it was her own sister. "Because I love him," she admitted.

"You love him." Mary appeared to digest this revelation. "How did that come about?"

"It is not surprising that you should wonder. Sometimes I can hardly believe my opinion of him has changed so drastically."

"It has nothing to do with his money?"

"No." Elizabeth sighed. How could she make someone else understand what she herself did not yet fully comprehend?

"I just thought that...after you refused Mr. Collins, perhaps you had despaired of making a prosperous match."

"I had not despaired of making a match. I had no thoughts of matrimony when Mr. Darcy approached me." She knew she would need to explain herself. "When Mr. Collins proposed to me, I knew I could not accept him." She sat down near Mary. "I cared nothing for him as a suitor."

"You had just met Mr. Wickham then."

"True." Elizabeth supposed that her attraction to Mr. Wickham had added force to the other inducements which led her to refuse Mr. Collins, but she would never admit such a thing to Mary. "But Mr. Wickham had not the means to support a wife, and now we know that even were his income sufficient, he would make any girl a poor husband."

"Those rumours..."

"Yes," interrupted Elizabeth, not wishing to discuss Mr. Wickham further. "Mr. Darcy, unlike the others, completely took me by surprise with his regard for me."

"What did he say? What did he do?"

She shifted in her seat, not accustomed to Mary hanging on her every word. "We argued. Not unusual, really, but this instance was worse than the others. I told him I despised him as much as he despised me. He informed me that his feelings were quite the opposite of what I had assumed."

"Did this happen in Kent?"

"Oh, yes. At Rosings."

"And your feelings changed immediately?"

"No, but eventually they did." She smiled. "Is that not what truly matters?" She resisted the curiosity in her sister's eyes. "Now, let us hear these notes played properly. I shall turn the pages for you."

Mary did the piece justice and was easily persuaded to try another. At its conclusion, she put her hands in her lap and sat still for a moment. "It is a beautiful love song," she declared with a rare smile. Then she looked at Elizabeth and said, "Mr. Darcy chose well."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, but as her sister began to play again, she grew pensive. ‘I hope you are right, Mary,' she thought. ‘I hope you are right.'

Mr. Bingley called on the Bennets each morning before breakfast and often departed after supper. Mr. Darcy's stay in London was brief, and not many days passed before he joined his friend on the three-mile ride to Longbourn. Now that Elizabeth's engagement was known to all the family, Mr. Darcy rarely strayed from her side, though he spoke politely to the others. He even found something to say to Lydia on each visit, and his continuing solicitude for Kitty's comfort earned approving glances from Elizabeth and Jane.

Three mornings after Mr. Darcy had returned from London, not long after the gentlemen had arrived, the attention of the entire party was drawn to the sound of a carriage approaching. Mr. Bingley hurried Jane to the gardens for a walk. Kitty rushed to peer outside. "It is a very fine carriage, Mama. Who can it be at this time of day? Is it the Colonel, come to bring your sister to us, Mr. Darcy?"

"It cannot be. I do not expect them for another week." His curiosity roused, he left his seat and joined Kitty at the window. Elizabeth saw his mouth turn down at the corners. "Excuse me." He stepped back. "I hope to return to you very soon."

The ladies watched as Mr. Darcy stormed out of the room. Every eye turned to Elizabeth, but she had no explanation to offer.

Kitty, who had moved to another window to better observe the mysterious visitor and Mr. Darcy, broke the silence. "There he is! I see him now. He is speaking to a lady. He is handing her out of the carriage."

"Kitty, remove your nose from the glass, please." Mr. Bennet walked fully into the room.

Kitty sulked and went back to her seat.

"Do I understand correctly that we have a visitor at this hour?"

"We do, Papa." Mary confirmed. "Mr. Darcy has gone out to meet her."

"Who does he think he is, Master of the Manor? This is my house, not Pemberley! I shall go."

"But Papa," Kitty added, "I believe he knows her."

"Hmph!" Mr. Bennet strode to the door.

With Mr. Bennet out of sight, both Elizabeth and Kitty got up and ran to the window. Elizabeth gasped at what she saw. "Lady Catherine!" It could be none other---her comportment, fineness of dress, gestures, all were instantly recognisable. She did not want to imagine what her ladyship must be saying to her nephew. Slowly, the others gathered around them as the seconds passed and no servant had come to escort the caller into the drawing room.

Elizabeth slipped away from her family and sought solitude in the gardens to think on what she had seen. Why had Lady Catherine come? Surely not to congratulate her and Fitzwilliam; her ladyship could have nothing good to say about their engagement. She could not help her curiosity, however. As she walked towards the front of the house, the sounds of Lady Catherine's displeasure became increasingly intelligible. The words "disgrace" and "regret" were quite clear. Mr. Darcy's responses were less so, but his uneven tone betrayed his struggle to maintain even a modicum of propriety. She did not hear her father's voice at all. As she considered the spectacle her ladyship must be making in front of the servants and anyone else who happened to be near enough to witness, she felt anger well up inside her.

"Lizzy!" Jane whispered. Her sister and Mr. Bingley had found a perfect spot from which to observe the quarrel undetected. "I cannot make out much of what Lady Catherine is saying. She is Lady Catherine, is she not?" Jane shifted to make room for her.

"Yes."

"It must be half a day's journey from Rosings Park," Mr. Bingley observed. "She must have stopped in London for the night and departed at dawn. I wonder that she took the trouble of coming so far."

"What can her ladyship hope to achieve by it?" Jane asked.

"She hopes," Elizabeth said, her anger increasing, "to assert a prior claim on her nephew on behalf of Miss de Bourgh."

"That is unlikely," said Bingley with a quiet laugh. "I would say it is impossible. Your engagement notwithstanding, Darcy never meant to marry his cousin. He told me so."

Jane pressed Elizabeth's hand. "Mr. Darcy did warn you that his aunt would not be pleased by your betrothal."

"True, but I never expected this! Must she make her opinion known to the entire neighbourhood?" Had she not been so incensed, Elizabeth would have laughed at the notion of three rational adults hiding in the bushes and whispering to each other like children. She peered through the shrubbery. "I suppose Papa is just going to stand there like a statue until he is formally introduced. He likely is enjoying the scene."

"Now, Lizzy, that is not fair! The situation is very awkward."

Bingley agreed. "If Lady Catherine continues to decline Mr. Bennet's hospitality, perhaps I should invite her to rest from her journey at Netherfield."

"Oh, will you?" Elizabeth sighed in relief. "I would be so grateful. Though I wonder whether she will acknowledge your offer if she will not listen to her own nephew."

"I can but try."

Elizabeth and Jane watched Mr. Bingley approach the others.

"I doubt Mr. Bingley's efforts will succeed, but it is kind of him to go to the trouble."

"I hope her ladyship accepts his offer. How long can she persist in arguing in public?"

"You would be surprised, Jane, at how much Lady Catherine can have to say once she warms to her subject."

Mr. Bingley's petition at first appeared to have the desired effect; Lady Catherine looked around her at suddenly being addressed by a stranger, and she seemed to gather her misplaced wits and get her indignation under regulation. Then Mr. Darcy moved to hand his aunt into the carriage, and the pretense of peace collapsed as Lady Catherine's voice rose to new heights.

After a moment, Elizabeth gathered her courage. "This is ridiculous! I must put an end to it."

Jane, seeing that Elizabeth was determined to intervene, stepped out of her hiding place. "I shall go with you."

The girls walked together, arm in arm, stopping before the carriage. "Lady Catherine, it is a pleasure to see you again," Elizabeth lied.

"Miss Bennet!" Lady Catherine fairly shouted. Apparently, she had not seen Elizabeth and Jane approach. "I cannot say that I return the sentiment."

"That is unfortunate. Will you not come into the house?"

Mr. Darcy, keeping his eyes on Lady Catherine, seethed. "My aunt has refused every reasonable offer made to her, and she likewise refuses to return to the comfort of her carriage."

"I am sorry you will not stay and have tea with us. You have come such a great distance only to turn around and go back again. Are you certain we cannot change your mind?"

"Miss Bennet, my mind is not the one that needs to be changed!"

"Her ladyship has spoken, gentlemen. She will not be persuaded."

"I certainly shall not! If my nephew will not give me the assurances I require, I will have them from you, Miss Bennet! This presumptuous match cannot take place!"

"By ‘presumptuous match', I presume you mean my engagement to Mr. Darcy?"

"Insolent girl! You know exactly what I speak of! Why else would I come here?"

Jane made an unintelligible sound and began to speak in her sister's favour, but Elizabeth stopped her with a shake of her head. "Why else, indeed?" Elizabeth asked, striving to look not the least bit perturbed.

"Is this to be my reward for my attention to you at Rosings?" Lady Catherine continued. "Ungrateful girl!"

"Your ladyship," Elizabeth answered, "I cannot allow you to continue in error. I am not ungrateful, nor would I have you believe me so."

"Then how do you explain your attempts to ensnare my nephew?"

"I cannot explain attempts that were never made, your ladyship."

"He claims you are engaged to him, that he, and not your family, sent the announcement to the papers! How can that be, unless you have tricked him into it?"

"Lady Catherine," Elizabeth pressed on, "while I realise it was not your intention, or even mine, to further my acquaintance with Mr. Darcy, I do not wish to be remiss in offering my sincere thanks for the service you rendered us. Had you not impressed upon me the need to improve my performance at the pianoforte, I would not have been thrown so often into Mr. Darcy's company, and I doubt we would have come to a better understanding of one another. Circumstances could not have turned out more advantageously had you purposely arranged them."

"Arranged them? Preposterous!"

"Indeed. It is wonderful, is it not? I am quite pleased with my choice of husband, and I thank you for the part you have played in our current happiness."

Lady Catherine's face became alarmingly red. "You speak nonsense...You cannot be serious..."

"Let me echo the oft-repeated words of your dear friend, Lady Metcalfe: ‘Lady Catherine, you have given me a treasure.'" She smoothed her skirts. "Now that I have discharged my obligation, I shall not detain you. I bid you good day and good journey." She curtsied graciously and turned to the gentlemen. "Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley, shall we return to the house?"

Mr. Darcy took her hand and kissed it before tucking it under his arm and escorting her inside, leaving Mr. Bingley and Jane to follow. Elizabeth heard Lady Catherine spewing venomous insults at her back, but she never turned to acknowledge them. Nothing that woman said could touch her now. It was, surprisingly, the sound of her father's voice that made her clutch Fitzwilliam's arm; she faltered when she heard him address Lady Catherine at last, just as the door to Longbourn closed behind her.

Part Fifteen

Posted on Sunday, 18 June 2006

Mrs. Bennet queried Mr. Darcy as soon as he returned to the drawing room. "Is it true that Lady Catherine is here?"

Mr. Darcy only nodded and proceeded to escort Elizabeth to her seat.

"Why did she not come inside?"

"She did not choose it," Mr. Darcy answered.

"I suppose her ladyship called to congratulate you and Lizzy on your engagement. From what little I saw, I must say she did so quite energetically."

"Her purpose was by no means as benevolent as you suppose, madam."

"Congratulate us?" Elizabeth added under her breath. "Refuse her consent, more like."

"I cannot imagine why Lady Catherine did not come into the house," Mrs. Bennet continued. "I hope her ladyship was not displeased with Longbourn."

"She was prevented by my going out to meet her," Mr. Darcy said, "but I am glad to have spared you a most unpleasant scene." He whispered to Elizabeth, "I wish I could have spared you, my love."

"It is not your fault, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered back.

"Unpleasant?" Mrs. Bennet repeated.

"I should have protected you from her wrath," Mr. Darcy murmured to Elizabeth.

"Quite," Mr. Bingley replied to Mrs. Bennet.

"Do you believe I required protection?" Elizabeth asked Mr. Darcy. Her attempt to laugh elicited from the gentleman his first smile since his aunt had made her appearance.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Bennet fretted. "Where is your father?"

"He is speaking with Lady Catherine now," Jane supplied.

"Perhaps I should go to them." Mrs. Bennet turned to the door.

"Madam!" Mr. Darcy leapt out of his seat. "That will not be necessary..." The sound of the carriage departing punctuated his outburst. "My aunt is not in the best of spirits today," he explained to Mrs. Bennet in a calmer voice. "It is fortunate that you did not meet with her in her present state."

Mrs. Bennet appeared unconvinced and not a little insulted. "But now I shall have to wait until the wedding to make her acquaintance!"

"Mr. Darcy is quite right, Mama." Jane's tone was so stern that she sounded like Mary. "The wait is of no consequence. You are better off as you are."

At the sound of footsteps, Mr. Darcy stood. "Your father cannot wish to see me here after what has occurred," he told Elizabeth and Jane. "I believe I should go."

"Mr. Darcy," said Mr. Bennet upon entering the room, "did I just hear you say you are leaving? This is the second time in a se'night that you have attempted an early escape from Longbourn. Your aunt would not avail herself of our hospitality; surely you do not wish to follow her example?"

Mr. Darcy froze in place. His lips barely moved as he replied, "Certainly not."

"Then, please, sit down."

Mr. Bennet himself took a seat, and after frustrating his wife by his vague replies to her detailed inquiries regarding their exalted guest, he began to speak upon another subject entirely with his eldest daughters and the gentlemen. Mr. Bennet carried the conversation, as Jane and Mr. Bingley did not exert themselves to talk much. Mr. Darcy offered few remarks, and Elizabeth none at all; the latter silently sought to discover whether her father was pleased or disgusted with her behaviour towards Lady Catherine.

Despite Mr. Bennet's remonstrance and subsequent civility, the gentlemen's visit did not continue long after Lady Catherine's departure. Mr. Bennet walked them out, and the ladies began to stir.

"Well! All of our company has left us," complained Mrs. Bennet. "I am sure I feel very dull."

"Mama, why do not we go into Meryton?"

"An excellent suggestion, Lydia! We shall call on my sister Philips. Kitty, will you come with us?"

"Papa will not allow it."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten. I do not know where your father got the odd notion of keeping you bound to this house. How are you to have any amusement, or meet any eligible gentlemen? I have tried to talk him out of it, but he says he will not relent."

"The restriction will not last forever, Kitty." Elizabeth was mortified for her sister, but even more disturbing was her mother's obvious ignorance as to the reasons for Kitty's punishment. "With all the wedding preparations," she continued, "I am sure Papa will permit you to walk the streets of Meryton and visit the shops soon enough."

"True, true!" Mrs. Bennet said, cheering immediately. "Lydia, come along. I must tell my sister of Lady Catherine's call."

While Kitty busied herself with picking apart a bonnet and Mary turned her attention to a book, Jane walked to the window. Elizabeth joined her and watched their mother and youngest sister take the path to Meryton. The men were still talking, standing near the place where Lady Catherine's carriage had been.

"Before this morning, I would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much incivility existed in the whole race of humankind as is collected in Lady Catherine de Bourgh alone. I never would have believed it, had I not heard her ladyship's words with my own ears."

"Jane!" Elizabeth abruptly turned her head from the window.

"How could she abuse you so, Lizzy? She must have observed you and Mr. Darcy together before you liked him. Why, even at Aunt Gardiner's house, you received him cautiously. You were hardly forward then, and certainly could not have thrown yourself at him weeks before, upon first renewing your acquaintance in Kent. Had you sought to entrap Mr. Darcy---how vulgar of her to suggest it!---she would have seen evidence of your attempts and not been shocked by your engagement. After all, what benefit could there be to you in feigning indifference if you were wishing, expecting his addresses?"

Elizabeth stared at her, struck speechless by her words.

"Yet, if you had cared for Mr. Darcy and welcomed his attentions in Hunsford, she still would have accused you of being a fortune hunter. It is so unfair, Lizzy. If a woman displays her affection, genuine affection, for the world to see, she runs the risk of being subjected to all manner of impertinence and even censure. But if she does not," Jane added in a lower voice, with her eyes fixed on the gentlemen, "she runs the greater risk of concealing that affection from its object."

"Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth laid her head on her sister's shoulder for a moment and suppressed her tears. How glad she was that Mr. Bingley had not taken the counsel of his sisters or his friend to heart!

"I hope that in time you will forget Lady Catherine's behaviour, Lizzy."

"Her ladyship's conduct has been such," said Elizabeth, blinking to allow a tear to escape, "as neither you, nor I, nor anyone else can ever forget. It is useless to hope. But I shall endeavour not to dwell on it overlong." Through watery eyes, Elizabeth saw Fitzwilliam turn to face her. She could not tell whether she truly detected or merely imagined his slow smile, but she placed her hand against the glass nonetheless and smiled in return.

"Less than a week and they will be gone!" Of all the Bennets, only Lydia expressed any feelings of loss at the regiment's imminent departure. "Mama and I met Mrs. Forster on the way home," she told her sisters. "I had not seen Harriet for an age, and now we must part! We talked and talked while Mama was taking leave of Aunt Philips. She wishes to invite me to Brighton, and I long to go, but Colonel Forster will not permit it. He is so disagreeable!" She dropped into the nearest seat and continued her whining, her arms inelegantly splayed over the sides of the chair. "Harriet is my best friend in the world. How I shall miss her."

"Of course you will miss your friend," her mother said. "However, I cannot be angry with Colonel Forster as long as he takes that foul Mr. Wickham away from Meryton when he goes."

Elizabeth's eyes flew to Kitty, but she turned them elsewhere when she noticed Mary regarding her.

"Colonel Forster is a wise man," she heard Mary say. "You should be happy to avoid Mr. Wickham's society, Lydia."

"Oh! Hang Mr. Wickham!" Lydia cried out, surprising the others, as she rarely replied to anything Mary said. "What has he to do with it? I have no intention of enjoying Mr. Wickham's society in Brighton or anywhere else!"

"It is not your intention I question," Mary said, "but his. No so long ago, he was on very good terms with our family."

"Why does that matter? I did not even speak to him when I saw him last."

"Your staying in the colonel's household would bring you frequently into company with all the soldiers, including Mr. Wickham." Mary's statement arrested everyone's attention, including her mother's. "A man who has lost his good name may try to cling to what friends he can. A man as charming as Mr. Wickham may even succeed. Any remaining bonds of friendship we girls share with him---or with any undeserving member of the other sex---must be severed, for the sake of our reputations."

Kitty made a tiny squeak and began to cough violently.

Elizabeth and Jane glanced at each other, the former preparing to intervene, the latter perhaps doing the same. They waited too long to act, however; Lydia had grasped the one concept that was of use to her in the whole of Mary's speech. "Mama, do you think it is Mr. Wickham's fault that I cannot go? Harriet did say the colonel is keeping a close watch on him." Lydia glowered. "I dare say it is all his doing."

Kitty's coughing continued as Lydia heaped blame on Mr. Wickham for her disappointment. "How could he ruin my holiday? I shall never forgive him, and if I ever see him again, I shall tell him exactly what I think of him and his..."

"Never you mind, Lydia," said Mrs. Bennet over the commotion. "I would not have you go so far away when there is much to be done here. You must help your sisters choose new gowns for the wedding ceremony. In fact, I shall have new dresses ordered for all my girls."

Lydia squealed in delight at this announcement and prattled on with their mother. Kitty soon recovered enough to smile a little. Mary looked quite satisfied, and Jane and Elizabeth breathed sighs of relief.

The following morning, Mr. Bennet called Elizabeth into his library. He stood at his desk waving a piece of paper.

"As I know you cannot bear being away from Mr. Darcy for very long, I shall be as brief as I can."

"Mr. Darcy has not yet arrived. What do you have there, Papa?"

"A letter from Mr. Collins."

"Mr. Collins! What can he have to say?" ‘Nothing that can interest me,' she added to herself.

"Based on yesterday's events, I am sure you can guess."

"Oh..." She immediately recalled his connection to Lady Catherine and frowned.

"He does not even offer congratulations on the approaching nuptials of your eldest sister, though I do not doubt that some of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases have informed him of it. He gets directly to the point. Very unlike him." Mr. Bennet looked at her. "But I see I am sporting with your patience. Here is what he says." He handed the letter to her. "Read it for yourself. Then I shall burn it, I think."

My Dear Sir,

I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation in life, to beg your assistance in righting the grievous wrong that has been done to my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and to her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh. Be assured that neither Mrs. Collins nor I cast any blame upon you for the ill-advised actions of Miss Elizabeth, actions which have brought much undeserved distress to Rosings. Neither do I blame Mr. Darcy, for I have no doubt he has been tricked into the arrangement, which, I must warn you, has not been sanctioned by his nearest relations. As you may imagine, I am quite familiar with your daughter's ability to draw one in. This consideration has led me to reflect with augmented satisfaction on a certain event of last November, although I can almost wish circumstances had turned out quite the opposite for the welfare and happiness of dear Lady Catherine, as I would gladly bear any mortification for her sake. The past cannot be altered, however, and for this I am thankful, being quite certain that my contentment, as the husband of my dear Charlotte, is far greater than it would be were I married to a lady whose arts and allurements had blinded me to her mercenary motives. I can now credit your daughter's refusal of one proposal to the expectation of another.

Let me strongly advise you, my dear Sir, for the restoration of Lady Catherine's peace of mind, to withdraw your consent to the marriage and leave your unworthy child to reap the fruits of her own insufferable presumptions.

"Are you well? You are not going to be Missish, I hope, and pretend to be intimidated by a mere lizard when you have braved the dragon herself."

Elizabeth shook her head and read the remaining lines of offensive script. She was too diverted to be very angry; she had almost laughed aloud when reading Mr. Collins's comparison of her motives to Charlotte's. Her father was right. Having faced Lady Catherine and retained her dignity, she was untroubled by the bitter words of her cousin. She was more grateful than ever that her father had refused to grant his consent to a marriage between herself and Mr. Collins. The accusations in the letter were not unlike those she had endured while staying at Hunsford Parsonage, and at such a distance their effect was weakened. She reminded herself that what Mr. Collins insinuated was no truer now than a month ago, despite her engagement to Mr. Darcy, and she handed the letter back to her father, who promptly disposed of it.

"Sit down, Lizzy."

She settled herself in the chair across from his, and for a moment, they sat and looked at each other in silence.

"I allowed you to read that letter for one reason." Mr. Bennet continued to look at his daughter earnestly. "There are going to be people, both within your new family and in greater society, who will not look upon your marriage with a friendly eye. Some will use words much harsher than those of my cousin; hopefully none will surpass Lady Catherine's performance." He frowned. "That person is unlikely to call here ever again. I told her she is not welcome within three miles of Longbourn unless she apologizes to you, Jane, Mr. Bingley and her nephew, of course. Oh, and your mother, who, I informed her ladyship, may never forgive her for not sitting down to tea." His eyes smiled though his mouth did not. "I considered suggesting that she save time by making a general announcement in the town square, but I doubt she would have received the idea in the proper spirit. She has not much of a sense of humour, eh? Ah, well. Are you certain you are prepared to defend yourself against future attacks, Lizzy? You have no reservations about entering into this union?"

"None, Papa. I am not troubled by anyone's disapprobation. My family approves, and Miss Darcy approves; that is sufficient for me."

"Good. Very good. Your Mr. Darcy has no reservations either. He made that point very clear to Lady Catherine yesterday. I nearly lost my composure when he said to his aunt, ‘I am a gentleman; she,' speaking of you, of course, ‘is a gentleman's daughter.' Now, we all know this modest estate cannot possibly compare to Pemberley, and the thousand pounds you will inherit someday is less, I would wager, than Miss Darcy receives in the course of a year. It was kind of him to reduce your disparate circumstances to those simple terms." Her father smiled outright. "I had an agreeable talk with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. Worthy men. I would not have believed it possible just two days ago, but I think I shall like your husband quite as well as Jane's."

"Oh, Papa!" Elizabeth could not restrain her relief and pleasure at her father's words. "I am so glad!"

"Yes, I can see that you are. I am happy myself to see you smiling so, after yesterday. But Lizzy, can you tell me whether you and Mr. Darcy are in the habit of exchanging books on the subject of agriculture? Is he attempting to correct a deficiency in your education so that, as the need arises, you may be fully prepared to discuss such matters with Pemberley's steward?"

Elizabeth, unprepared for the rapid turn of the conversation, blushed at the thought of revealing the truth and blushed again at the mention of Pemberley. "I would rather not say, Papa."

"Well, you are to be married, after all, and couples must have their little secrets. As long as Mr. Darcy remembers that you are not married yet, I will not press you for details."

"He is a gentleman, Papa."

"Yes...yes, and you are a gentleman's daughter!" he laughed. "Thank heaven for that."

"Papa," she hesitated, "may I ask you something now?"

"What is it?"

"Why is Mama yet ignorant of Mr. Wickham's last visit to our house? Even Mary has divined something of what occurred that night, I think."

Mr. Bennet sighed. "Do you wish your sister's reputation to be ruined, perhaps forever? If your mother were to discover the truth, she would spread the word around Meryton in a day's time. Kitty would not be able to show her face in public for months, if not longer. I do intend to let her out of the house at some point in future, to see her sisters married, if for no other reason."

She was disappointed and sorry, not least because she was unable to dismiss her father's concerns as unfounded.

"Lizzy, I will tell her someday. Just not now."

Elizabeth nodded, and with a smile, she left her father to his solitude.

Part Sixteen

Posted on Wednesday, 19 July 2006

More letters came to Longbourn after the last from Mr. Collins, including another from Hunsford Parsonage. Charlotte wrote Elizabeth to congratulate her friend on her conquest. "I know that you are too much of a romantic to have accepted him merely for his wealth and consequence," Charlotte's letter said, "but that does not change the fact that you have made a most enviable match."

Mrs. Gardiner's communication to her niece conveyed her approbation and pleasure with every line. She teased Elizabeth for her behaviour on the last day of her visit to Gracechurch Street and pressed her to share at least a few details of her surprising courtship. Mr. Gardiner added to his wife's raptures his own good wishes and expressed a hope that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, as a married couple, would continue their acquisition of noteworthy additions to Pemberley's library.

Other letters regarding the business fell to Mr. Darcy's lot. His uncle, the earl, sent a cold acknowledgement of the betrothal along with a few impertinent questions and one or two insinuations about Elizabeth. The viscount's note was brief in comparison to that of his father, with surprise being the prevalent sentiment expressed. Lady Catherine sent a rather thick missive, which her nephew had refused to open. It was not completely wasted, however; Mr. Darcy claimed to have put it to immediate use by repeatedly tossing it into the shrubbery around Netherfield and ordering one of the dogs to fetch it out. "Never before has one of my aunt's letters given me such pleasure," he told Elizabeth when relating the incident.

His father's cousin, the son of his great uncle the judge, responded to the news with barely concealed resentment. Whether his disapproval had more to do with not being informed of the engagement prior to reading of it in the London papers or with his relation's choice of wife, Elizabeth could not tell. As she read the letter again---for Mr. Darcy had shared it with her as he had the others with the exception of Lady Catherine's---she wondered if it were not the choice itself, but rather the ability to choose that nettled his cousin. Fitzwilliam was, after all, the heir to Pemberley; his cousin was not. As the child of a younger son, this Mr. Darcy might not have been at liberty to marry where he liked.

Elizabeth handed the letter back to Fitzwilliam. "Was your cousin very jealous of your father?"

"I have heard that he was. My mother certainly hinted at it. He visited us but rarely, usually in town. I have not seen him at Pemberley since the time of my father's funeral."

"There do not seem to be many of your family who approve of me. Papa did warn me this would happen."

"You know Georgiana approves of you. As a sister, she will adore you."

"What does the colonel think?"

"Now that we are engaged, he is possibly as jealous of me as this Mr. Darcy," he indicated the letter, "was of my father. He thinks highly of you." His smile quickly disappeared. "Elizabeth, do you...did you ever...admire my cousin?"

"I do admire him. He is a very gentlemanly, amiable man, with a great deal of lively conversation." Elizabeth watched the emotions flicker across Fitzwilliam's face. "But I never thought of him as anything more than a welcome acquaintance. There was no time for that in Hunsford. I was far too busy contemplating the actions of two other, far more troublesome men."

"Two?"

"The first, my own cousin, expended an inordinate amount of effort attempting to make me sorry for...well, envious of Charlotte in her role as Mrs. Collins." She saw Fitzwilliam's eyebrow rise at this. "That is, when he was not accusing me of seeking to garner the attentions of one or the other of Lady Catherine's nephews. The second gentleman's attack on my peace was subtler. He seemed content to confound me with smiles and compliments where I had grown to expect only cool civility." She levelled a steady gaze at Fitzwilliam. "You know not how shocked I was to find an admirer in him instead of a critic."

"Oh."

"Being privy to his earliest impression of me, you understand, I had no reason to suspect that I would ever become an object of his admiration."

Mr. Darcy sat up straight in his chair and spoke slowly and distinctly. "I shall not even ask what you heard, or how, or when, or where," Elizabeth was almost laughing now, "curious as I am on all four points."

"Bravo! I applaud your restraint."

"I see you will not take pity on me and tell me what I will not ask," he said, pouting. "Very well, then." Elizabeth laughed openly, drawing a slow smile from Fitzwilliam as he continued. "I hope, dearest, that you have lately heard more gratifying opinions expressed by the gentleman."

"I have indeed. As for those early remarks, and I shall let the ‘how' and ‘when' and ‘where' remain a mystery, now that I have had my fill of diversion and amusement from them, they shall be forgotten. I shall think only of the past as its remembrance gives me pleasure."

Changes continued to flow through the Bennet household at a rapid pace. Colonel Forster's regiment departed Meryton, and Kitty was allowed once again to leave the confines of Longbourn House. At each meal, Mrs. Bennet discussed some new item that she deemed essential to the wedding preparations, and Jane and Elizabeth daily received the congratulations of their acquaintance on their upcoming marriages.

Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at Netherfield and called at Longbourn that very same day while the Bennets were entertaining some of their neighbours. Miss Darcy was pleased to find Maria Lucas among those who greeted her, and she spent much of the visit in conversation with Miss Lucas, Kitty and Lydia. The colonel, after some initial embarrassment, struck up a conversation with Elizabeth and was almost as attentive to her as he had been in Kent, despite being under the watchful eye of his cousin.

One evening while there was still daylight left, Longbourn welcomed an unexpected visitor.

"Mrs. Collins!" Mrs. Bennet blurted as the lady stepped into the room.

"Good evening," Charlotte calmly replied, looking around the room. "I am happy to see you are all well."

"Well, indeed, especially now that you are here!" Elizabeth rose and stretched out her arms towards her friend. "Come! Tell me what has brought you to Hertfordshire. I thought to receive a mere paper reply to my last letter through the post, but this is much better." She smiled broadly at her friend, although she could not help but notice that something was not right.

Charlotte's expression and tone of voice gave nothing away. "I have come to stay a few weeks with my family."

"And Mr. Collins is at Lucas Lodge?" Elizabeth asked out of obligation rather than interest.

"No, he remains in Hunsford."

"I assume you will require the use of the carriage later this evening?" Mr. Bennet inquired, to which Charlotte nodded and offered her thanks.

Mrs. Bennet mumbled something and Elizabeth was grateful that neither she nor Charlotte could hear what it was. Mrs. Bennet had not completely forgiven Charlotte for stealing Mr. Collins, and thus Longbourn, away from her daughters and was unlikely to be kind or even civil in her remarks. "Mama," Elizabeth said, "shall I show Charlotte the new lace we purchased yesterday? It is very fine."

"Yes, do! It is finer than any I have seen a bride wear in Meryton. You and Jane will look very well in it. Take Mrs. Collins up to your room and show her." She shooed them away and languidly took up her stitching.

Elizabeth slowed her steps as they climbed the stairs. "Charlotte," she whispered, "are you well?" She glanced at the place where the youngest Collins was hidden from view.

"I am better than I was when you saw me last, but I have much to tell you, Eliza."

"Why did not Mr. Collins accompany you?" was the first question out of Elizabeth's mouth when they had reached her room and shut the door.

"He refuses to set foot in Hertfordshire, for reasons you must know. ‘Lucas Lodge is too near for comfort', he said. He would not even send a servant with me. My father was not pleased that I arrived alone, and it was some time before I could quiet his solicitude and set out to see you."

"Yet Mr. Collins did not forbid you to come?"

"I told him I needed my mother's counsel."

"So he knows he is to be a father."

"No. I merely hinted at it. I was never explicit. He is only convinced that a female matter is behind my sudden desire to be in Meryton, and he shies away from such things."

This of course inspired Elizabeth to imagine Fitzwilliam's reaction to the news of a Darcy heir, and that thought led to the contemplation of how heirs come about; the little Elizabeth knew of the process brought the deepest blush to her cheeks.

"I believe in the end," Charlotte continued, "he allowed me to leave because he thought I might be of use in convincing you to call off the wedding."

At this notion Elizabeth could only laugh.

"I know, I know. Silly of him to think so, but convenient for me."

"You assure me that you are well?"

"Eliza, stop! I am only with child; I am not an invalid."

"It is just that you were so pale when I left Hunsford. Obviously you are better now. I can see that. Your colour is much improved." She smiled, feeling more at ease. "I was only five when Lydia was born. I remember little of my mother's experience."

"I remember enough, but another's experience only goes so far."

"You said you had much to tell."

Charlotte took a deep breath. "Lady Catherine became quite angry with me when I refused to join in censuring you and Mr. Darcy."

"I assume Mr. Collins was less than pleased?"

"At first, yes. Later I mollified him by suggesting that I would rather not be heard speaking ill of her ladyship's nephew or that nephew's chosen bride while there is the smallest hope that reconciliation might be achieved in future. He lauded my intentions, and I in turn refrained from further expressing my true opinion."

Elizabeth's own temptation to anger was great, but she knew that her cousin was not a reasonable man. Charlotte had taken considerable risks and while she appreciated her friend's loyalty, she was not happy that it should be tested, especially at this delicate time, and by her very own relation.

"Lady Catherine is not the only one who disapproves of me," Elizabeth informed her friend. "Mr. Collins may flatter himself that he is in excellent company."

"Has it been difficult?"

"Not terribly so. Just words, really."

"Words can injure."

"True." Elizabeth recalled some of the things that had been said and written since Mr. Darcy's interest in her had been made public. "Is that all?" she asked eventually. "So you have fled the wrath of Lady Catherine?"

"I am not the only person who lately has left Hunsford. At least I left by choice."

"Who else has gone?"

"Miss de Bourgh is now without a companion. Lady Catherine accused Mrs. Jenkinson of insubordination. Specifically, she blamed her for aiding your courtship. She questioned all the servants and discovered that one of them had seen Mr. Darcy's valet carry a parcel in the direction of Mrs. Jenkinson's room and return empty-handed." Charlotte paused at Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath. "Mrs. Jenkinson admitted there was a package belonging to you that had remained in her room for almost a week before you retrieved it, though she claimed ignorance of Mr. Darcy's involvement. Lady Catherine has dismissed Mrs. Jenkinson and the other servant."

"Poor creatures! I feel sorry for them both. They are not at fault. I doubt Mrs. Jenkinson knew anything of what passed between Mr. Darcy and me. What is to become of them? Do you know?"

"The maid, Marsden, I think, has a new position with the Fieldings. Mrs. Jenkinson is to stay with a sister in London, a Mrs. Whitfield, until she procures a new post. Miss de Bourgh has been surprisingly open about the affair. I suppose that without a companion she feels very much alone. Her mother, she says, has not been the best company of late."

"Oh, Charlotte! I feel awful." Although she was not answerable for Lady Catherine's actions, she hated the thought that her own could in any way result in innocent people suffering the loss of employment. She shook her head. "Oh, I know I am not to blame, and I have long forgiven Mr. Darcy his method of delivering the collection of music to me. Lady Catherine has authored the greater part of her own misery by insisting that her daughter and nephew should marry. Had there been no parcel, her ladyship would have invented some other reason to lash out at her staff. She did not succeed with Mr. Darcy or with me, and her displeasure must have an object." Elizabeth then revealed to Charlotte the particulars of her ladyship's visit to Longbourn.

Charlotte proved to be unsurprised by the recital and declared it of a piece with Lady Catherine's recent behaviour. More details of the upheaval at Rosings followed, and by the time the carriage was wanted, Elizabeth knew, among other things, the area of town where Miss de Bourgh's former companion resided and the fact that Miss de Bourgh had been far less distressed than her mother by the news of Mr. Darcy's betrothal.

"This last is the most difficult." Charlotte swallowed. "My husband is very angry, Eliza. I am glad you are all in health and that you and Jane, at least, will have Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley to care for you. I fear Mr. Collins will not be kind when..." She bent over and gave way to muffled sobs.

"Charlotte, do not worry for us. Neither Mr. Bingley nor Mr. Darcy will allow my mother or younger sisters to suffer when Longbourn is no longer ours."

"I hope your father lives for a great many more years!" Charlotte tried to laugh her tears away. "Mr. Collins does not deserve his inheritance. I can only pray that he will by the time it devolves to him."

Elizabeth held Charlotte's hand, wondering exactly what her cousin had said and done to drive his wife away. "When do you return to Kent?"

"Never!" Charlotte whispered. "I do not know!" Visibly embarrassed, she pulled out a handkerchief and exerted herself to regain her composure. "What I truly do not know is what has come over me. I feel so out of sorts. I am too old for this display of silly emotion."

For once, Elizabeth could think of nothing to say to her usually imperturbable friend.

Luckily, Charlotte did not require a response. "It is my ‘condition', I suppose." She looked away. "Let us talk no more of Kent. I do not wish to think of hi---" she hesitated, "of Hunsford."

Elizabeth obliged her until the servant came to fetch them. Sir William had arrived to collect his daughter and was waiting in the drawing room. Elizabeth observed with relief as the cheerful, courteous manners of the father restored to the daughter much of her former good humour. As she watched her friends go, she had never in her life been so grateful to Sir William Lucas for simply being the man he was.

Mr. Bingley soon had the pleasure of announcing the return of his sisters and Mr. Hurst to the country. "They arrived yesterday afternoon. I urged them to come with me today, but they say they are fatigued from their journey and beg leave to call another time." His expression was one of disappointment, and Elizabeth could see that he felt the insult to Jane.

"It is of no import, Charles," Jane reassured him with her customary aplomb. "Do not worry yourself. We shall meet again before long and all will be well." Mr. Bingley gave her a half-hearted smile, kissed her hand and walked across the room to join the other gentlemen in conversation.

"Charles's concern is for naught," Jane said to her sister when there was no danger of Mr. Bingley overhearing. "At this moment, it matters little to me how soon I see Caroline again! But how shall I face her after knowing of her duplicity?"

"As you face everyone and everything else," Elizabeth answered. "I know exactly what you will do, Jane. You will blush on Miss Bingley's behalf, for I doubt her own cheeks will suffer any variation of colour at the recollection of her dishonesty, and then you will proceed to treat her and her sister with more kindness than they deserve."

"I do not intend to be uncivil, certainly, but neither do I wish them to believe that we can ever be what we once were to one another."

"I hope in time you will be better than what you once were to each other, at least on Miss Bingley's part, and Mrs. Hurst's. I have always found something lacking in their treatment of you."

Jane made no protest; she merely sighed.

"All will be well, Jane, just as you said."

"And we must begin this...renewal of our acquaintance, perhaps as early as tomorrow."

"You stood with me through Lady Catherine's assault on my character. I will stand with you, or rather sit while you pour the tea and entertain your two very undeserving future sisters. I will not even mind should you choose to add salt, and not sugar, to their teacups. Nor will Mr. Bingley, I think." This brought a smile to Jane's face at last. "And do remember that no matter how displeased they are that their brother has not chosen a bride with a dowry of fifty thousand pounds, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst are unlikely to complain about it in loud voices while standing just outside the door of Longbourn."

"No," Jane said, eyes wide. "I shall keep that in mind."

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley called the following day along with Mr. Bingley and his other guests, and Elizabeth was happy to find she had been correct in her predictions. Jane behaved with elegance and grace, and no one besides Elizabeth, with the possible exceptions of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, could detect any difference in her manner. Jane did not put salt in the sisters' tea, although to those who were observant enough to see it, she appeared to take less pleasure in serving them than she had done on previous occasions.

Mr. Bingley alternated between smiling at his betrothed and glaring at his sisters, particularly the younger one, for although Jane conducted herself admirably, the same could not be said of Miss Bingley. The latter sulked her way through the entire hour, and when she did speak, she more often than not directed her conversation to Mr. Darcy or Miss Darcy. Mrs. Hurst had the sense to look ashamed at her sister's ill breeding. By the end of the visit, Mrs. Hurst had compensated for what was lacking in her sister's behaviour by smoothing over the worst of Miss Bingley's remarks, and with that Mr. Bingley was forced to be satisfied.

"Caroline has been in a foul mood all day," Mr. Bingley said to Jane and Elizabeth before leaving. "Darcy said very little to her at breakfast, which she ought to recall is hardly unusual, and he refused to answer any questions on how his engagement came about. Her being vexed with him may explain her behaviour, but it cannot excuse it. I am sorry."

"You need offer no apologies, Charles."

"Your sister might not agree with you," he said, looking at Elizabeth.

"If Jane is satisfied, so must I be."

Jane looked at Elizabeth with scepticism but said nothing.

"Very well, then; I shall accept your gracious words and take my sisters back to Netherfield where I hope at least one of them will come to a right way of thinking before long. I believe you can trust Louisa's efforts today to be sincere."

Both Jane and Elizabeth could agree with Mr. Bingley's statements regarding each of the ladies in question, and the matter was closed.

"The Bennet brides are a hardy lot, would you not agree, Jane?" Elizabeth said after bidding Mr. Darcy farewell.

"I hope we are." She waved to Mr. Bingley, who had mounted his horse. "Had I known how much there was to bear..."

"You would not have fallen in love with Mr. Bingley?"

"I could not help that, any more than you could help falling for your Mr. Darcy."

"If you speak the truth, which I suspect you do," Elizabeth responded with a smile, "what hope have we, helpless creatures that we are? We have no choice but to prepare ourselves as best we can for whatever unpleasant scenes may arise between now and the wedding." She thought suddenly of Charlotte and added to herself, "And may marriage be kind to us long after the wedding is over."

Elizabeth watched the movement of the billowing curtains one morning as she sang to Mary's able accompaniment. She was in a fair way of knowing the song by heart, only occasionally finding the need to look over her sister's shoulder to read the next word or phrase. She and Mary completed the piece to unexpected applause.

"Lovely." Mr. Darcy leaned forward from his position at the doorway. "Lovely. Thank you, ladies."

"You are welcome, Mr. Darcy." Mary smiled and then, with a quizzical glance at each of the others, she left the room.

"You are early," said Elizabeth, delighted to see him. "I had not expected you before noon."

Mr. Darcy moved to stand next to her. "I have often desired to hear you perform again."

"Why did not you ask?"

He blinked as if he either had not heard or had not understood her. "We are so rarely alone." His eyes strayed to the door.

"‘We' are so new, I cannot yet say what is rare and what is not. We have been engaged for what, a fortnight? Three weeks?"

"Eighteen days."

"You are frightfully exact." She took in his appearance; he always was impeccably attired, and today was no exception. "But returning to the subject, are you suggesting that a private performance is preferable to a public one? I might not disagree with you, although I do not believe we can recreate the circumstances in the servants' wing at Rosings. Here, one of my many sisters is likely to---" Feeling his arms encircle her, she shifted her gaze upward. "I thought we were talking of music," she teased, for he had begun to whisper words that had nothing whatsoever to do with notes and melodies.

Mr. Darcy placed Elizabeth's hands on his shoulders. "We were." He lowered his face to hers.

Elizabeth indulged him as long as she dared, which was not long at all. "I was serious in saying that one of my sisters may interrupt at any time. Or, worse, one of my parents."

"I know." Resigned, he sat down while Elizabeth took Mary's former place at the instrument. "Is it too early in the day for a lullaby?"

"No," she smiled. "Never."

It was thus engaged, Elizabeth singing and Mr. Darcy reclining in the chair with his eyelids lowered, that Mrs. Bennet came upon them. "Lizzy, how came you to be playing that child's tune?" Her mother bustled into the room. "Can you think of nothing more suitable?"

Before Elizabeth could explain that she was performing at another's request, her mother drew her attention to Mr. Darcy, who remained still but for his breathing, and to all appearances was fast asleep.

"Oh! I never..." Mrs. Bennet pressed her pink cheeks. "Well, if Mr. Darcy does not mind it, then I suppose..." Flustered and momentarily silent, she hurried out and shut the door behind her.

"See to it that Mr. Darcy is not disturbed," Elizabeth heard her mother charge one of the servants. "He..." She heard only a few more muffled words as she resumed her playing. "...important man...business...needs his rest." Elizabeth kept her fingers steady, though her voice wavered when she started to sing again, for she had caught Mr. Darcy attempting to stifle a smile. At the gentle sound of her ill-repressed laughter, Mr. Darcy opened one eye. Elizabeth quickly covered her mouth to keep more laughter from bursting forth.

"Had I but known," said Mr. Darcy, opening the other eye, "that time alone with you would be so simple to achieve I would have attempted it days ago." He moved to sit next to her. "Play to me again. I promise to stay awake."

"You were not sleeping before."

"No. I find your company too stimulating." He grinned at her. "I suppose it was unfair of me to fool your mother like that."

"Badly done, sir!"

Later, when she had retired for the evening, Elizabeth would reflect upon her tête-à-tête with Fitzwilliam and conclude it was inevitable that they should inch closer with every softly spoken phrase, and equally inevitable that they should cling to each other when their words ceased and privacy afforded the opportunity for their lips to become more agreeably engaged. At the time, however, she suffered much of the nervousness and suspense one might experience at the prospect of a first embrace, though Fitzwilliam had kissed her only minutes before.

The difference was on her part, not his; this was the first instance where she moved towards him and reciprocated his ardour, knowing full well what she was about. As they touched, she was fascinated by his softened expression, his attractiveness, how at peace he seemed to be in her arms. She noticed his long lashes, upper and lower ones pressed close together, and wondered that the beauty of his eyes could affect her so profoundly without their being focused on her. So captivated was she that when Fitzwilliam eventually returned her gaze, she gasped and held him even closer, feeling right then as if the ground beneath her had fallen away and she were floating on air.

Elizabeth was the first to pull away at hearing her father's voice in the hall. She was not sorry for it; during these few moments, she and Fitzwilliam had forgotten themselves, had quite forgotten where they were.

"Papa is determined to save me from my own imprudence."

The door creaked open.

"He is determined to save you from me, I am sure of it," Darcy hissed across the now proper distance between them.

"Ah, Mr. Darcy!" Mr. Bennet stepped into view. "I see the reports of your falling asleep during my daughter's performance are merely rumours. Yet I understand how you could be tempted to it." He paused and glanced everywhere but at the two persons in the room. "The air in here is a little warm. Why not come and join the others? Elizabeth?"

The couple rose without looking at one another and followed Mr. Bennet out until the latter motioned to a part of the room where a looking glass was affixed to the wall between two portraits. Elizabeth caught sight of her reflection and flinched. Mr. Darcy was beside her in a moment, slipping his arms around her waist. "Is not this a pretty picture?" he asked her, bending to kiss her neck.

"Aye, if a bit untidy." Fitzwilliam was less vain than she, despite his handsome features. There was a glow to their faces that had not always been there, a natural ease in the way they stood together; that must be the prettiness to which he referred. "We must be quick if we are to return to company shortly." She smoothed the wrinkles out of her gown and tucked her wayward locks into place. Mr. Darcy effected similar adjustments to his appearance, and in a few moments all was set to rights.

"My dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife when Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walked into the drawing room, "I do believe it is high time we selected a wedding date."

Part Seventeen

Posted on Tuesday, 12 September 2006

"I hope she stays in Meryton indefinitely."

"But Fitzwilliam!" During a walk on Longbourn's grounds, Elizabeth found the opportunity to reveal to Mr. Darcy what lately had occurred at Hunsford. They talked briefly of the changes at Rosings before discussing Charlotte's plight. She knew he would be concerned, but she had not expected this reaction.

"I do not know how anyone can live at peace with Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth had no answer for that, never having come to terms with Charlotte's marriage herself.

"She has not suffered more than...He has not..."

"Oh, no!" Elizabeth startled when she realised what he was suggesting. "She expressed no concern on that score. My cousin is many things, but I cannot accuse him of being a violent man."

"Sir William cannot be pleased with Collins's treatment of his daughter." His tone was less agitated, Elizabeth was pleased to note. He glanced back at Mary, who was chaperoning them. "Had a man treated Georgiana so," he began but was unable to finish the thought aloud.

Elizabeth felt his arm stiffen. "We must hope for the best."

"Exactly. It would be for the best if she were to remain in Meryton."

"You must understand, Fitzwilliam, that Charlotte accepted Mr. Collins in order to avoid the very situation to which you would condemn her. She would never agree to sever all ties with her husband and become dependent again upon Lucas Lodge, no matter how distressed she is right now."

"Then invite her to Pemberley to stay as long as she likes. Collins is not likely to follow her there."

Had they been talking of anyone else, Elizabeth might have found it disconcerting that Fitzwilliam, almost a husband himself, could speak so coldly of another man's claims on his wife. Yet this was her cousin of whom they spoke, hardly the most deserving person, and Fitzwilliam's generosity and compassion for Charlotte's sake overwhelmed her and brought her to the brink of tears. "I do not think Charlotte will want to travel so far from her family," she told him in a quiet voice, "especially now."

"At least ask her to accompany you to London."

"London?"

"To purchase your wedding clothes."

"The shops in Meryton are sufficient for my needs."

"You know full well your mother will not be satisfied if you do not purchase at least a part of your trousseau at the shops in town. Invite your friend to come with you. She may find that she likes it there."

"But Jane and I have just come from my uncle's house. I would not wish to inconvenience them again so soon."

"We have a house there as well, though you have never seen it. We need not trouble your uncle and aunt."

‘We have a house in town.' The idea was utterly foreign to her. She tried to picture receiving her uncle and aunt at her very own residence and retiring afterwards to her own rooms instead of those she occupied in Gracechurch Street. Unable to form a clear image of it all in her mind, she resolved to put the notion aside until she was more at leisure to dwell on it. "I shall ask Charlotte," she consented, "but that will not solve her dilemma. She must return to Kent before the winter." ‘Unless she wishes to stay in Meryton for her confinement,' she mumbled, caught up in her thoughts.

"Ah. There is a child, then."

"Did I say that aloud? Yes, there may be a new heir to Longbourn and dissolution of the entail in the foreseeable future." Elizabeth smiled in Mr. Darcy's direction. "Perhaps Charlotte and I shall plan an alliance between our families. After all, a young Mr. Collins of Longbourn will have a gentleman," she rolled her eyes, "for a father and the daughter of a knight for a mother. Is that not a fair prospect for a Miss Darcy? Especially if the young man is lucky enough not to have five sisters---and thus five dowries---to diminish his inheritance?"

"Daughter-in-law to Mr. Collins! You would consign your own child to such a fate?"

"Daughter-in-law to my dear friend!" she said with mock indignation.

"My love, I shall not argue with you, as we are merely talking possibilities. Suffice it to say that you are well acquainted with one Darcy whom it pleased to disregard his family's opinions on the subject of marriage. And another," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness, "whose former choice, though lamentable, revealed her disinterest in wealth and position. Any child bearing the name of Darcy may turn out to be just as willful."

"Willful, you say? You make the pair of you sound quite fearsome. Though you will not argue, I find your argument has some merit. Perhaps I should be anxious. After all, I have not many weeks before I must abandon my compliant, accommodating ways and throw myself into the power of the ‘willful' Darcys of Pemberley."

He was absolutely silent, not even turning to glance at her.

"Mr. Darcy," she prodded, "will you not smile?" They had stopped walking. "You cannot think me serious. It was only a bit of silliness about the betrothal. Charlotte and I will make no promise of the kind. I would not dare! Any daughter of yours will be free to choose her own husband, pending your approval, of course."

When he still would not look at her, she moved to stand in front of him. "Fitzwilliam," she said, reviewing her recent speech for anything that might have caused offence. "Oh!" She remembered the sound of his voice when he had alluded to his sister. It had been his solemn tone that had inspired her teasing; she merely wished to cheer him, but she should have known it would not be so easy, or rather that it would be so easy to make everything worse. "Truly, I am eager to join your family and to bear your name. I could not wish for a more wonderful sister than Georgiana." She stroked his arm as if to stir life back into it, for it had gone so still just then, along with the rest of him. "And I cannot imagine ever finding a better husband than you."

He glanced down at her at last, relief apparent on his face. "I wish we were already husband and wife."

"Less than two months, my dear, and you will have your wish."

As Mary came near, they turned to walk back to the house.

"Why do not you invite all your family to London?" Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth as he held out his disengaged arm to her sister. "Our house has rooms enough to spare."

"An offer like that would make you my mother's favourite son." ‘How Mama will crow over the invitation,' she thought, trying to keep her own head from spinning at this second mention of their house.

"Miss Mary, do you fancy a trip to town?" Mr. Darcy waited patiently for an answer.

"I...I suppose I am not...disinclined..." Mary's cheeks flushed pink. Elizabeth observed her sister's embarrassment with mild amusement.

"Ask Mrs. Collins," Darcy reiterated while Mary was adjusting her ideas, "and her sister as well. Georgiana would be happy to see Miss Lucas again."

"Are you certain you wish for all of us to descend upon your home at once?" She smiled at him; the poor man could not know what he was in for.

"Do you think that I wish to be separated from you, or Bingley from your sister, over the matter of a few gowns and dancing slippers? He and I practically live at Longbourn as it is; we certainly eat most of our meals here. Allow me---and Georgiana, of course---to return your family's hospitality for a few days. You are right to be considerate of the Gardiners."

Elizabeth was still contemplating the offer, which she dearly wanted to accept, when Darcy interrupted her thoughts.

"You do realise," he said, "you have been denied the same privilege your elder sister has enjoyed: that of viewing your future home and having the opportunity to suggest improvements. How can you accomplish this in a timely manner if you do not stir from Hertfordshire until after the wedding? I am certain your mother will support me in my wish to rectify this inequality as soon as is practicable.

"Mrs. Bennet," he said in a booming voice as he entered the drawing room with the two ladies on his arms. The matron of Longbourn turned her full attention to him; indeed, all the room turned to hear what urgent message Mr. Darcy had to impart. The man himself smiled at Elizabeth's open-mouthed stare and said, "I have a proposition."

"Charlotte, how lovely! You must have a gown made from that very fabric."

Charlotte's fingers slowly caressed the material as she returned it to its place. "I am afraid my pin-money is not as plentiful as yours will be, Eliza."

"Who said anything of your money? Between Jane and me, we can afford a little indulgence. You are not leaving this establishment without ordering at least three gowns. I insist!"

"Eliza, really, that is not necessary..."

"Lizzy is right, Charlotte. We can well afford the cost." Jane gently pleaded with her. "You have been so kind, bearing with us all day long without complaint. It is only fair that you get something for your trouble."

"And do not tell me you have no need of new gowns," Elizabeth said with a significant look towards Charlotte's middle. "The matter is settled in any case. My father has been quite generous. He gave us leave to buy whatever we like, for he shall soon have not only Jane and myself, but all of his girls off his hands. Or so he says, for he has threatened to punish Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley for ‘depriving Longbourn of two of its most sensible residents' by sending our younger sisters to stay very often at Netherfield and Pemberley, or here in town. Papa will feel like a rich man with only Mama frequenting the Meryton shops and no Lydia or Kitty begging him for new bonnets every week."

The girls giggled as Mrs. Gardiner, who had accompanied the young ladies and advised them as to which were the best warehouses, admonished Elizabeth to be serious.

"I shall try, Aunt. Charlotte, you have no choice but to receive these meagre additions to your wardrobe as graciously as you can, for we will not relent."

Charlotte only wanted a little pressing to accept, which Jane readily provided, and a delightful hour passed before the ladies returned to the carriage.

"Where shall we go next?" Mrs. Gardiner asked her nieces and their friend.

"I do not know if there is room in here for any more packages." Jane pushed a bandbox aside to accommodate their latest purchases.

"Unless one of us sits with the driver," Elizabeth concurred as she cleared a space for herself. "If we all agree that our shopping for the day is complete, I propose we call on Mrs. Whitfield."

Charlotte's gasp was quickly followed by a smile. "Truly?"

"I have a message for her sister from Mr. Darcy, and I promised him I would deliver it today if I could."

"Then, I suppose you had better do just that." Mrs. Gardiner procured from her the direction and, after instructing the driver, she leaned back in her seat.

"I should like to know how Mrs. Jenkinson gets on."

"I just hope she will see me, Charlotte. She might refuse, and if she does, I could not blame her."

"Thank you for seeing me." Unsure of her reception, Elizabeth had asked Jane, Charlotte and Aunt Gardiner to remain in the carriage. Upon being informed that the mistress of the house was not in, she requested to see Mrs. Jenkinson and waited for her in the front room. The lady appeared after a minute or two and responded to her greeting with a wary nod. "There is something I wish to discuss with you," Elizabeth forged ahead, "but first, does your sister happen to have a pianoforte?" To her dismay, the expression on Mrs. Jenkinson's face grew grim.

"That is the one thing Lady Catherine gave me before I was forced to leave Rosings. She wanted ‘that confounded instrument' out of her house, she said. Luckily, my sister had ample room for it in the other parlour."

"May we go there now?"

Mrs. Jenkinson mumbled to herself as she led Elizabeth to the back of the house, and Elizabeth did not ask her to repeat the words aloud.

"Here it is." Mrs. Jenkinson stopped just inside the room. "Why do you wish to see it, if I may ask?"

"You certainly may." Elizabeth tried to smile. "I do not wish to see it so much as to hear you play it."

"Whatever for?"

"Will you not sit down?" Elizabeth asked, gesturing to the seat in front of the instrument. "I will be happy to tell you what you wish to know, but I must hear you play."

Once Mrs. Jenkinson acquiesced, Elizabeth felt calmer, though far from easy. She took a seat herself and listened with rapt attention. It struck her that for all Lady Catherine's professions of superior musical knowledge and taste, her ladyship had proved herself either a liar or a fool by failing to take advantage of this woman's obvious talent while she had the chance. She wondered whether Fitzwilliam, while roaming the servants' halls of Rosings, had ever stumbled across Mrs. Jenkinson practicing instead of herself. Or, perhaps he had heard her play years ago during a previous visit to his aunt's home.

"That was beautiful," Elizabeth said when the room grew quiet. "Thank you. You make me quite ashamed of the quality of my own performance." She ignored Mrs. Jenkinson's demurral. "My training was rather limited. It is obvious that you had no such deficiency in your education."

"All my sisters were taught by capable music masters. My aunt saw to it. We took lessons along with our cousins."

With a fleeting sense of gratitude towards Mrs. Jenkinson's aunt, Elizabeth decided to dispense with the least pleasant part of her errand now that it appeared all would turn out well. There was another aunt whose actions must be acknowledged, loath as she was to bring any reference to her into the conversation. "You must understand how distressed Mr. Darcy and I were to hear of your treatment at Rosings. Neither of us had any idea that you would share in the blame for what occurred. I suppose you know by now that the music I ‘left' in your room was actually purchased by Mr. Darcy?"

Mrs. Jenkinson nodded.

"I had no more idea than you at the time. I knew only that I had not left anything behind, and I was appalled when I perceived what Mr. Darcy had done. You must understand that I had no expectation that he would make a gift to me of any sort. He and I were not on the best of terms then. It was not until later that...his...affections were reciprocated." Elizabeth stopped, not having intended to reveal something so personal to one wholly unconnected with her.

"Lady Catherine was very angry," said Mrs. Jenkinson, breaking the silence. Her face contorted as if a particular memory pained her.

"I am well aware of that, Mrs. Jenkinson. Her ladyship visited my home and expressed her anger to my face. Actually, she abused me to my face and to all my relations, at least to all those who were within her hearing." Her words and awkward smile were answered by Mrs. Jenkinson's compassionate glance.

"That must have been horrible for you."

"I shall not deny that it was. However, my purpose for calling, I hope, is a happier subject. Am I being presumptuous in assuming that you are desirous of employment?"

"My sister has been very kind, but I cannot impose upon her indefinitely."

Elizabeth was pleased and relieved by Mrs. Jenkinson's reply. "You do play marvelously, if I may say so. Would you be averse to taking on a few pupils?"

"Pupils? Do you mean for lessons on the pianoforte?"

"Of course."

"Why...no, not at all. I had not thought...that I would ever...Miss de Bourgh, you see, was never allowed to..." Mrs. Jenkinson took a moment to regain her composure. "I should like it very much." Her slight frown did not remove the hopefulness from her expression. "It has been a long time since I have practiced with any regularity."

"Your lack of practice does not appear to have injured your performance."

"I must beg to disagree with you."

"As you are the expert as regards your own abilities, I shall take that not as a boast, but as your sincere opinion. It gives me great pleasure to present this offer to you on Mr. Darcy's behalf." She handed the letter to Mrs. Jenkinson and watched her read it.

The lady's brow rose in disbelief. "'Tis too much!" she said at length. "To teach you? But you already play. How can he give so much for so little work?"

"Mr. Darcy is surprisingly generous. And you are too quick to assume that only a little work is necessary."

"He says here that he is acquainted with two or three more families who may require my services. I cannot think each of them will offer as much as Mr. Darcy, but if they pay half such a sum, I shall do very well indeed." She looked up from the letter. "But why does Mr. Darcy feel obliged to hire me when there are these others? He owes me nothing."

"He is pleased to do so." Elizabeth waited as Mrs. Jenkinson considered the proposal. She did not have to wait long.

"I suppose I would have had to leave Lady Catherine's employ at some time or other. Had Miss de Bourgh married by now, I would be in a similar predicament."

"Her ladyship would not have made any provision for you?"

"I have always understood Lady Catherine's intention to be to relieve me of my duties upon her daughter's marriage. Lately, her ladyship has mentioned a family in the north with several children and no governess. I believe she hoped to persuade them to take me into their household." She looked as though being a governess, at least to this particular family, was the last thing she wished to do. "Oh! I have not offered you any refreshment," she said, suddenly recalling her role as hostess. "How rude of me. Would you care for some tea?"

"I would like that very much. May I have permission to ask my friends to join us? My sister and aunt are with me, and so is Mrs. Collins."

"Mrs. Collins is here? Please, do have them shown in! I am so sorry; I had not realised you had anyone waiting."

"You could not have known."

The others were glad to escape the confines of the carriage, and soon the room was abuzz with animated conversation. Jane and Mrs. Gardiner took pleasure in forming a new acquaintance. Mrs. Collins agreed to call on Mrs. Jenkinson again before returning to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth, bubbling over with good cheer and eager to apprise Fitzwilliam of the success of her mission, suppressed her impatience to be gone and instead settled in to enjoy a slice of cake and the abundance of good company.

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