Beginning, Next Section
Posted on Monday, 7 January 2008
"Baby Betsy!" Fitzwilliam called back, teasing the young girl behind him. He held out his stolen prize, letting the ribbons of her bonnet flap tauntingly in the air just beyond her reach.
Behind him, a young Elizabeth was running as fast as her short legs would carry her. Her skirts were gathered up in one hand to prevent her from tripping on the hem. She railed against the unfair disadvantage of being born both a girl and several years younger than her tormentor.
Suddenly, Fitzwilliam tripped over a rock, and fell face-first into the grass. He lay there laughing, and let go of his prize. A few moments later, Elizabeth snatched up her bonnet and glared at him. Her face was bright red from exertion, and she gulped down some much needed air. After catching her breath, she marched over to Fitzwilliam's prone body, and her small fist came down hard on his shoulder. Despite her small size, Fitzwilliam winced at the force of impact. "Serves you right, Fitzwilliam!" she exclaimed as she marched off.
The young boy could not help laughing harder. In the next moment though, he jumped up to catch up with her, grabbing her hand when he did. Walking hand in hand, they made their way to a hidden grove that hosted a shallow brook. The previous week, they had discovered tadpoles in a small pool along its banks and were off to check their progress.
When they reached the brook, Elizabeth took off her slippers and stockings, placing them neatly in the grass, well away from the water. She wiggled her toes, relishing the feel of the soft green grass beneath her bare feet. As she neared the banks of the brook, she hiked up the hem of her dress and carefully tested the water with her toe. The water was shallow, and the sun that filtered through the tree tops above had warmed it to a comfortable temperature. Confident it would not cause her to catch a chill, she stepped carefully into the crystal clear water.
The temperature of the water meant nothing to Fitzwilliam; he had no intention of entering it. However, a daintily stepping Elizabeth was a great temptation. Giving into mischievous tendencies, he gave her a light push, causing her to stumble recklessly in the water. In an effort to maintain her balance, she dropped her gathered skirts, which allowed the hems to soak up water.
"Fitzwilliam!" the startled girl shrieked. Without warning, and with a fierce look in her eye, she splashed him with two handfuls of water and then laughed at his startled expression.
As he attempted to brush the droplets of water off his jacket, she splashed him again, laughing gleefully. That was all the inducement he needed. Boots and all, he trounced into the brook, and reciprocated in kind.
After thoroughly soaking one another, they agreed to a truce and returned to the grassy banks where they laid in the grass to dry. Neither was anxious to return to the house soaking wet, yet again. The last time they had, there had been a great deal of scolding.
While trying not to laugh, Mr. Bennet had said, "Lizzy! Look at you! Six inches in mud I dare say! It is not proper for young ladies to run and splash. What would your mother say if she saw you?"
Elizabeth wanted to tell him that she had seen Lady Anne hide a chuckle behind her hand when she saw her; and if Lady Anne did not mind, neither should her mother. However, knowing her father was correct, she held her tongue and demurred.
Fitzwilliam had received a similar dressing down from his father. "Mr. Bennet will not continue to visit if you insist on corrupting his daughter in such a manner. It is not proper for the two of you to play as you do. Miss Elizabeth is a gentleman's daughter, and as the son of a gentleman, you should not encourage such behaviour."
Fitzwilliam pursed his lips together, trying not to laugh. Betsy was not a girl! She was great fun! Girls were boring; they sewed, and painted, and played with dolls. Betsy could climb trees, catch frogs, jump in streams, and throw a pretty good punch. She was not afraid of snakes or spiders, and she was good at playing pirates or knights -- even if she did refuse to be the damsel in distress. Besides, who else was he supposed to play with when Wesley or his cousins Richard and Stephen were not around?
"Hertfordshire?" Darcy asked his friend. He took a sip of wine and stared into the fire in his study. His eyes took on a distant look as the memories the name conjured filled his head. He was only partially aware that Charles was speaking, no doubt expounding on the greatness of the estate he had found.
It had been a long time since Darcy had heard the names Hertfordshire or Meryton. What would Charles want with an estate in Hertfordshire? Based on what he knew, the area was made up mostly of small estates with no one of their circle. He would be much better off with an estate in Kent, Essex, Leicestershire, or even Oxfordshire. Darcy knew people with estates in all of those counties, and they were well respected men of the Ton. There was only one family he knew in Hertfordshire, and their name had not been on the lips of the Ton for at least two generations.
Charles interrupted his thoughts in a rather impatient tone. "Will you visit the place with me? I took your advice and only leased the estate for a year. I have seen the estate, and like it well enough, but as an experienced land owner, I would like your opinion on its potential."
Darcy dismissed Charles' question; his thoughts were stuck on the name Bennet. Li'l Beth. Betsy. Elizabeth. A stay at Netherfield would undoubtedly bring them face to face. Meryton was too small of a town to avoid her, and he was not sure he was prepared to see her. Would she be happy to see him? Or would she be angry? Would she want to renew their friendship? He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach at the thought of seeing her. He had missed her greatly these last years.
A near suffocating pain entered his chest at the memory of their last meeting. His hand unconsciously went to his jacket pocket, searching for the object he started carrying that day, but had ceased almost four months later.
Realizing what he was doing, he shook his head to squelch his train of thought and follow a less painful path. Things were different now. She could be married, possibly with children of her own. After all, it had been six years since they had last spoken. She had likely forgotten him.
Damn, Bingley! Of all the places to find an estate! Realizing Charles was still waiting for an answer, he said, "Yes, Bingley. I will accompany you, though I am uncertain on the length of my stay. Georgiana will have to travel with us as well." The words left his mouth before he had realized he had finalized the decision in his own mind.
Bingley flashed a brilliant smile, ignoring Darcy's resigned tone, and strode over to shake his friend's hand. "Of course she is welcome! Thank you, Darcy! Thank you!"
Darcy nodded and sighed heavily. It was too late now, he was already committed. To Hertfordshire he would go.
The closer the carriage rolled towards Meryton, the more apprehensive Darcy became. He was torn between scanning the passing countryside for a set of familiar auburn curls and pulling the shades of the carriage in case they were spotted - not that the shades would do anything to hide his family crest on the carriage door.
So much was at stake. The last thing he wanted was their first meeting to be by chance, and in the streets of town before he had recovered from the journey.
He looked across the carriage and saw apprehension in his sister's face as well. "Are you uncomfortable about staying with the Bingleys, dear?" Darcy asked.
Georgiana shook her head no, but Darcy knew it was not the complete truth. When he had told her of the trip, he could see the fear in her eyes. She had looked like a frightened doe. He had tried to quell her anxiety by explaining that the people would be strangers and would know nothing of her, but it had the opposite effect. Her natural shyness only compounded her unease. She was apparently still not ready to be seen in public.
He knew the only reason she had obliged was because he had asked her to come along. Since the incident last summer, she had become far too compliant. He needed to break her of it, but so far his efforts had only produced tears. "Will you tell me if it becomes intolerable? We need not stay more than a few days."
Georgiana returned a small smile, understanding the implied meaning. "I will be fine, Brother, for as long as you wish to stay," she said meekly.
Darcy nodded and looked to Mrs. Annesley for help, but the older woman only shook her head. Time, Mrs. Annesley had said. It would take time. He wondered once again how much time was enough. It had been three months, and there were few signs of improvement. She had quit crying on a daily basis, but she still had trouble looking at him when she spoke, and she was not happy; and then there was her unfettered obsequious attitude. Logically, he understood what she was feeling; at least he thought he did. He knew she feared disappointing him and was having difficulty trusting herself again. How to help her get past that though, baffled him. He wondered briefly if he should have told her about Elizabeth. The news of a reunion might at least bolster her spirits and take her out of this damnable melancholy. After further thought, he decided to stick to his resolution. If Elizabeth was angry at them, he could not allow Georgiana to see it. The rejection would be too great for her to bear.
The carriage pulled up Netherfield's drive, and Darcy looked over the stately stone building. It was a good sized house for Bingley. Three levels, fifteen rooms, Darcy guessed, based on the number of windows that lined the third floor. From outward appearances, the house was well maintained. The front gardens were a little overrun, as was the house ivy, but nothing that could not be fixed within a day or two with a good gardener. At the entrance, he could see Bingley waiting anxiously for their arrival and smiled to himself. At least someone was excited about this trip.
"Welcome Darcy!" Bingley greeted cheerfully. Darcy shook his friend's hand and then turned to hand down his sister and Mrs. Annesley.
"Welcome, Miss Darcy, Mrs. Annesley," Bingley said jubilantly.
Darcy noted a new touch of pride in Bingley's tone. His friend should be proud. Any estate was something to be proud of.
"Mrs. Willows will show you to your rooms," Bingley added.
As the group approached the house, Bingley asked, "What do you think of the place?"
Darcy smirked at Bingley's childlike excitement. He needed to be happy for his friend despite the personal war he waged within himself. Bingley had taken a big step and had every right to be proud and excited. "I have seen only the drive and front of the house, Bingley. I can hardly form an opinion," Darcy replied, clapping his friend's shoulder as an indication of his jest.
"Perhaps we can ride out later?" Bingley suggested sheepishly.
Darcy was far too tired for a ride, especially having just descended from a carriage. Surely Bingley understood this. "We shall see. I would like to see my sister and her companion settled, and then freshen up myself." He tried to sound as positive as he could, but he was truly not looking forward to jumping in a saddle right away.
Bingley nodded, with a quiet. "Forgive me, Darcy."
Darcy smiled understandingly at his friend and recalled how excited he had been the first time his father had taken him out to survey the grounds of Pemberley. Knowing Bingley's request had stemmed from his enthusiasm, he knew he could not disappoint him. "All in good time, Bingley. We will take a look at the immediate grounds this afternoon, and ride out tomorrow or the next day. Is that acceptable?"
"Excellent!" exclaimed Bingley, sounding much more like himself.
The following evening, Darcy entered the Assembly room next to Bingley. Even before entering the room, he had heard the whispers of Bingley's five thousand a year, and how he was the most eligible bachelor to enter Meryton in years. Normally, he would have been self-conscious, and would have listened for such rumours concerning him, but tonight he was preoccupied with other thoughts; particularly, those involving a petite, dark haired girl.
He scanned the room looking for her. Would he even recognize her? Perhaps she had married and moved away. He relaxed slightly at that thought. He was not a coward, but he was very uncertain of his welcome. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation in front of a room full of strangers.
As Elizabeth caught her first glimpse of the newcomers, she clapped her hand against her mouth to stifle a gasp of recognition. Surely it could not be him! The man before her looked like him, but at the same time he seemed taller, and somehow much older than he should. Her eyes remained glued to him as he continued his march through the room. When she saw the unmistakable brow, jaw, and penetrating look, she knew it was him. What is Fitzwilliam Darcy doing here? Hoping to be told she was wrong, she turned to her friend Charlotte and whispered, "The dark haired one? Who is he?"
Charlotte replied in a low voice, "Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire. He is Mr. Bingley's guest. It is rumoured he has ten thousand a year."
Elizabeth paled. It was him! How he had changed! Elizabeth's mind raced. How do I greet him? Would he remember me? Certainly not after all this time! Why does he look so dour? Why does not he smile like he used to? She looked back up at him, just as he was passing her, and their eyes locked for the briefest of moments before Elizabeth looked away.
Before Elizabeth could collect her thoughts and determine how to greet the man, she heard herself being summoned by her mother for introductions. She steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. He certainly will not remember you, she told herself. It has been six years!
Before she knew it, she heard her mother saying, "My second eldest daughter, Elizabeth..."
Elizabeth tried to maintain her focus on the blond haired man she was being introduced to, a Mister Charles Bingley. Try as she might, though, she could not help stealing a look towards the tall gentlemen standing next to him. A small, uneasy smile from him told her he had recognized her. She swallowed.
Before Charles could turn to introduce his friend, Darcy uncharacteristically stepped forward and said with a bow, "Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth felt a heat rise up her neck, and knew she was blushing. For all the gold in the world, she could not make herself look him in the eye. With a semi-bashful smile, her eyes locked firmly on the knot of his cravat, she returned the greeting. "Mr. Darcy."
Sir William looked from Elizabeth to Darcy. "You two know each other?"
Elizabeth raised her chin at the impertinent question and replied, "Yes. Our families were introduced a number of years ago." She ignored the confused, but astonished look on her mother's face, and then added a little sharply, "We have not been in communication for quite some time."
Standing in the shadows of the musician's box overhead, nobody saw Darcy flinch at Elizabeth's barb.
"Capital!" Sir William replied, oblivious to the faces or feelings of the others.
Darcy heard Bingley request a dance with Miss Bennet, and before he knew what he was saying, he had requested the first set with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. The last thing she wanted was to spend the next thirty minutes in the man's company. Nonetheless, it would be rude to decline, and she certainly had no desire to sit down the entire night, so she accepted the invitation.
The dance began in silence, neither of them knowing how to begin; both of them reflecting on the last time they had spoken. It was in a grove -- their grove -- at Pemberley. Darcy's extended family was residing at Pemberley, and Darcy had fled to the grove for some time alone.
Elizabeth had come to Pemberley at his father's request; it was a trip to say goodbye. His father was very ill, and the doctor had told him to prepare for the worst. After having some final time with her godfather, she had gone in search of Darcy. Not unexpectedly, she had found him sitting near the bank of the brook, crying. Without a word, she put a hand on his shoulder and sat down next him. They talked a little, but mostly she had just let him cry. When it neared time for them to return to the house, she pulled out her handkerchief and gave it to him, letting him use it to dry his tear stained cheeks. It was never returned.
They were well into the dance when Elizabeth finally opened, "Mr. Darcy, what a surprise to see you in Hertfordshire." Her tone was polite, but cool.
"Indeed, though I must confess there was little surprise on my part."
The two parted briefly, giving Elizabeth a moment to think. When they returned to each other, Elizabeth said, "Then you have the advantage of the element of surprise."
Darcy could not help a small smile that peeked out. She had not changed; she was as impertinent and teasing as ever. "Perhaps. Perhaps not," he clipped smugly.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly. He was as she expected; haughty and smug, taking every opportunity to demonstrate his superiority. "Then have you achieved your objective?"
"Partially." He answered, knowing the terseness would irritate her. He revelled in the ease in which they had fallen back into their old patterns, and how relaxed he felt in her presence - even after their prolonged absence. It was a soothing balm after last summer.
There was a new silence as Elizabeth's ire slowly grew. What did he hope to achieve by showing up after six years? Disdainfully, she reflected on the changes she saw in him. She was glad she did not have to watch this proud, spiteful attitude evolve. She would not have been able to remain friends with him even if he had wished it. Determined not to let him ruin her night, she began again, politely asking, "How is Geor... Miss Darcy."
Darcy pursed his lips tightly for a moment, then said, "My sister is well. She has accompanied me, but since she is not out yet, she remained at Netherfield with her companion." The couple separated briefly. "Does your father attend the Assembly?"
"He does." she clipped.
Shortly thereafter, the dance ended and Darcy escorted Elizabeth off the floor. Before her hand was claimed for the next dance, he bowed over it and said, "Until next time."
If there is a next time, Elizabeth stewed.
Not feeling equal to the crowd gathered, Darcy retreated to the punch bowl, reflecting on his conversation with Elizabeth. They had fallen into their old habits, but something was still not right. While they had teased each other, she had seemed distant, and even cool towards him. But could he really blame her? Their separation had been his fault. He would not have been surprised if she had slapped him or cut him. She would certainly have been justified in doing so.
He took a sip of the punch, and his jaw tightened at its tartness. He watched the new set of dancers take the floor, focusing on one in particular. She was smiling gaily with her partner, as if she had not a care in the world. She had remained her usual bright and cheerful self. That part of her had not changed, and he was glad for it.
Seeing her playful manner while interacting with others only intensified his need to talk to her and explain. How desperately he had wanted that spirit to help him during those trying years, and again this past summer. Could they ever get back to what they once had? He certainly hoped so. It was a good sign when she inquired after Georgiana. Perhaps she was what his sister needed to bring her out of current doldrums. Before he could risk reintroducing the two, however, he needed to explain the past.
He looked around the room, seeking Mr. Bennet. He had hoped Elizabeth would have done the honours, but she was occupied. and probably too angry to provide the assistance. A familiar voice called to him, and before he could turn to identify the voice, his arm was accosted by Miss Bingley.
"Certainly not the finery of the London, is it Mr. Darcy?" Miss Bingley said haughtily.
"I did not expect it to be."
"Pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, who was that little country miss?" Caroline simpered.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he deadpanned. He knew it was not what she wanted to know, but it did answer the question.
"You know her?"
Darcy nodded the affirmative. "Our families were acquainted with one another."
Caroline stifled a choke of surprise. Then, clearly fishing for more information on the new rival, she asked, "You are no longer acquainted?"
"We have not been in communication as of late."
Miss Bingley visibly relaxed, believing Elizabeth to be less a threat than she originally thought. Changing the subject, she said, "I do hope Charles intends to return to town before Christmas. I could not bear remaining in this savage country for the holidays!" She batted her eyelashes coquettishly.
Darcy felt the urge to roll his eyes at Miss Bingley's thinly veiled hint. It was a bit early to discuss Christmas, but Miss Bingley had been attempting to secure an invite to Pemberley for Christmas for the past five years. He was well aware that Pemberley at Christmas was widely discussed amongst the Ton, and that it was considered the highest honour to receive an invite, which was always reserved only for the Earl of Matlock, Lord Blakeslee and their families. Especially given recent events, Darcy knew that even if he had wanted to invite Bingley to Pemberley for the holidays, Miss Bingley would no doubt misconstrue it and expect an engagement announcement soon after. That was something he would never allow.
Not having any other response for Miss Bingley, and knowing he was obligated to dance with her once this evening, he set down his glass of punch and asked her for the next set, which she readily accepted.
Throughout the dance, he half listened to his partner spout the many praises of Pemberley. How he regretted having paid any special attention to her in past months. Now she was insufferable!
His duty to Bingley's sisters complete, Darcy once again searched the room for Mr. Bennet. He spied him in a corner of the room, chatting with Sir William Lucas. Darcy grimaced at having to speak to that man again, but there was nothing for it. At least Sir William would be able to perform introductions, and ease the situation. Darcy approached the two, his rigid stature belying his nervousness. As he neared, the two gentlemen turned.
"Ah!" Sir William exclaimed, "Mr. Darcy. I am informed you are already acquainted with Mr. Bennet."
Darcy bowed to Mr. Bennet. "I am. Mr. Bennet, it is good to see you."
Mr. Bennet looked the young man over. "Mr. Darcy. It has been a long time. How are you and your sister?"
"My sister is well, sir. Thank you for inquiring."
"Sir William tells me you have already seen Lizzy this evening."
"Indeed, I have. She honoured me with the first set." Darcy hoped Mr. Bennet would not ask any further questions. The last thing he wanted to do was share his past with a ballroom of people.
In response to Darcy's silent plea, Mr. Bennet smirked, but his eyes betrayed the amusement he felt.
With not a little chagrin, Darcy correctly surmised Mr. Bennet was sorry to have missed the interaction. It only fuelled his belief and disquiet that he may not be able to reconcile the past with Elizabeth.
"If you are available tomorrow, it would be an honour to have you at Longbourn again," Mr. Bennet said.
Darcy bowed in acceptance. "The honour would be mine. I am at the leisure of my host, but I shall try to call tomorrow morning." He took his leave, grateful for the invitation. If things went well, Elizabeth would be home when he called. He would speak with her then.
The rest of the evening, Darcy spent standing near the edges of the room pondering what the next day would bring.
Posted on Date: Friday, 18 January 2008
Despite the late night, the morning after the Meryton Assembly, Elizabeth rose early. The blazing orange morning sky was giving way to a blue one, and the sun could be seen through the mostly barren trees. Elizabeth dressed hurriedly. Such mornings were fleeting, and she was intent on taking advantage of her good fortune. She tied her hair up in a simple chignon and threw on her simplest morning gown. She did not take much care in her appearance, as she was not expecting to see anyone.
When she exited the house, she inhaled deeply as she secured her pelisse and pulled her shawl tightly around her. The morning air was cool, but refreshing, and she could smell the fresh bread already baking in the oven. As soon as she was out of sight of the house, she tore off her bonnet and verily skipped down the lane. She lifted her face skyward, basking in the feel of the morning sun. She listened to the pleasant song of the birds over head, and breathed in the earthy smell of fallen leaves.
Suddenly, the sound of a horse and rider grabbed her attention, and she stepped off the main road, into some thin trees, hoping to remain relatively unnoticed. She watched, waiting for the rider to pass her by so she could continue on her way. To her great shock, as the rider neared, she recognized him as Darcy. The reminder of his presence in Hertfordshire, further fuelled by his disturbance of her morning walk, caused her ire of the previous evening to return in full force.
He was the last man she wished to see at the moment. Hoping to escape a conversation with him, she turned onto a smaller walking path that headed deeper into the woods, knowing a horse would have difficulty following her.
Unfortunately for her, Darcy had already spotted Elizabeth, and fully intended on taking advantage of what he viewed as his good fortune. Seeing her attempt at escape, he called out, "Miss Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth stopped for a moment. The polite thing to do would be turn around and acknowledge the caller. However, perturbed at Darcy's sudden reappearance into her life, she continued on her way without so much as a nod.
"Li'l Beth! Wait! Please!" Darcy called, jumping from his steed, ready to follow her.
Elizabeth froze at the appellation. It was a name used only by him, her friend. It had started out as a joke with all the Darcys when Georgiana was just a toddler and could not pronounce her name. As nicknames are sometimes wont to do though, it stuck, but only with Darcy; and it was only used when they were alone.
Never one to turn her back on the call of a friend, Elizabeth turned, her lips pursed. Her emotions battled within her, and only her gentle upbringing forced her to finally bob a curtsey. "Mr. Darcy," she murmured, not willing to look at him.
"Li'l Beth, please. I want to talk to you. I want to apologize and explain what happened."
Elizabeth finally looked up at him, though her eyes were narrowed with contempt. With an audible huff, she folded her arms across her chest and offered a clipped, "Very well. Proceed."
Darcy rolled his eyes. Apparently the years had done nothing but increase her stubborn streak. "Can we find a place, perhaps a little more private, or would you prefer any passer-by to hear me humble myself?" He did nothing to hide his annoyance at her obstinance in his tone.
Elizabeth exhaled forcefully, stomped her way back to the main road, and directed Darcy down a path that could accommodate a horse and led to a small copse.
The two walked in silence. Elizabeth silently bemoaned the loss of her morning solitude, while Darcy fought to gather his words. As they neared a fallen tree that could serve as a bench, Darcy said, "Li'l Beth, please hear me out. I will understand if you are still angry at me, but I beg of you to give me a chance."
"You do not owe me an explanation, and you have made your sentiments clear," she said, standing near the make-shift bench with her arms folded.
Darcy paced slowly in front of her, attempting to recollect his words. This was not at all how he imagined the apology. He had hoped to find a more willing audience. Instead, he was facing an angry Elizabeth, who was putting up one barrier after another. Coming to the conclusion that words would be inadequate, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to her. "I believe this is yours."
Elizabeth glared at the white cloth for a moment. At Darcy's insistence, she snatched the proffered cloth from his hand and gave it a cursory examination. As recognition dawned, though, her eyes grew wide. It was hers! Her embroidered initials were proof! As she lovingly fingered the familiar stitches, the memories from when she had given it to him flooded her. Instantly, the walls crumbled and her heart melted. "You kept it all this time?" she whispered.
"Of course I did," Darcy said softly. "It was given to me by one of my dearest friends."
Elizabeth nodded and gently traced her initials with her thumb. She did her initials differently now, a sign of the age of the item. It seemed like such a long time ago, and at the same time like it was only yesterday. She swallowed, feeling tears gathering in her throat. "Then why?" she choked out. Immediately, she castigated herself remembering her resolve to never let him know how deeply he had hurt her.
Darcy took a fortifying deep breath, and guided her to the fallen tree before beginning his explanation. "After my father passed, Lady Catherine stayed at Pemberley with Georgiana and me for several months. At the time, I was thankful. I was struggling with management of the estate, the house -- as Georgiana was too young to become its mistress -- the execution of my father's will, and being guardian to Georgiana." Darcy sat on the bench next to Elizabeth. With a hint of bitterness, he continued. "I am certain you remember Lady Catherine was displeased you were my father's goddaughter, and that you spent as much time as you did with our family."
Elizabeth snorted lightly at the reminder of Lady Catherine. How could she forget a lady who never let an opportunity pass to inform her how inferior her family was to that of the noble Fitzwilliam line? Even now, she could hear Lady Catherine's exclamations. "No governess! How is that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing."
Darcy continued. "I never knew the extent of her displeasure, however, until it was too late. During those first few weeks, she forbade Georgiana and me to correspond with you. Georgiana, being so young, obeyed, but I did not. I could simply not imagine it. I wrote you several letters."
Elizabeth interrupted, "But I received only two."
Darcy nodded, and creased his brow. The anger he had felt upon discovering his aunt's interference burned anew in his chest. "I found out the Easter after my father's passing -- quite by accident I might add -- Lady Catherine had bribed several postal workers to redirect all correspondence between Longbourn and Pemberley to Rosings. The staff there was instructed to burn it."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. "You mean..."
Darcy nodded. "I wrote you several letters, but when I stopped receiving letters in return, I thought I had angered you somehow and stopped writing as well." He kicked a mound of leaves and watched as they floated back to the ground before continuing. "By the time I discovered Lady Catherine's interference, almost a year had passed since I last heard from you. I had thought to write you, but I was too embarrassed; not only by my aunt's officiousness and judgment of you, but also because of my doubt in you and my failure to discover the interference sooner."
"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth cried, "I had no idea! I thought..." She hung her head in shame. "I thought you had decided our family was beneath you once you were Master of Pemberley," she muttered.
Not caring about the propriety of the situation, Darcy took both her hands in his and pulled them to his chest. "You were my friend, Li'l Beth. A very dear friend. You could never be beneath me. I know I should have come to Hertfordshire sooner and spoken to you, but I was too ashamed... and too afraid." He dropped her hands, realizing they could be seen, and not wanting to cause a scandal.
"Afraid?" Elizabeth asked, not understanding.
Darcy dropped his eyes to the ground and murmured, "I was afraid of your anger towards me. I do not know how I would have reacted if you had told me you never wanted to see me again. I thought it was best to just let things go quietly. At least that way I could still believe we were friends."
Elizabeth brushed away a tear that had fallen with the handkerchief Darcy had returned. "I am so sorry, Fizzy. I should have had more faith in you. I should have known something had happened to make you stop writing."
Darcy smiled at the nickname. She had given it to him in response for her own; though while hers was more of an endearment, his was teasing. It had taken her the better part of a day, to decide upon one. Despite his protests, she would not relent in her use of it. As nicknames sometimes do, it grew on him, and now he found it a symbol of their bond. With that one word, he knew he was forgiven, but he still needed to hear her say it. He took her hands in his once again. "Li'l Beth, can you ever forgive me? Can we be friends again?"
Elizabeth smiled, "It is I who should be asking for forgiveness, Fizzy. I was the selfish one. It hurt when you and Georgiana quit writing, but I had no right to be so angry. When I think of what you were going through at that time, I should have been more understanding. I have missed you too, and would dearly like to renew our friendship."
As there are no words for such a moment, the two simply smiled at each other in understanding. As the silence lengthened though, and began to become uncomfortable, Elizabeth stood. "I should return home before my mother has an attack of nerves," she said with a smirk.
Darcy stood, picking up the bonnet Elizabeth had placed on the log. "You are still not fond of these, I see," he said with a smirk.
Elizabeth snatched it from him. "They are as bothersome as ever." With an arch of the brow she added, "And I see you are still just as inclined to steal it."
Darcy laughed heartily as they walked towards the main road. When they arrived at the place they needed to separate, Darcy said, "Your father has asked me to call on him this morning, but I am afraid I must postpone that honour until tomorrow. Will you tell him, please?"
Elizabeth nodded, "Of course."
Before they parted, Darcy said, "It is good to see you again, Li'l Beth."
Elizabeth smiled brightly and a mischievous glint twinkled in her eye. "We shall see about that."
Darcy laughed openly. "So we shall." He bowed formally. "Until tomorrow."
Darcy returned to Netherfield, his heart feeling lighter than it had at any time since the events last summer, quite likely even earlier. Elizabeth had forgiven him, and they had even shared in a laugh or two. For the first time in many months, he could feel the wounds of the past begin to heal.
As he neared the breakfast room, he heard Miss Bingley's shrill voice. She was upset about something having to do with Netherfield and Hertfordshire. He shook his head slowly, wishing not for the first time Bingley would have left her in London.
After his successful meeting with Elizabeth, he was not in the mood to suffer Miss Bingley, but his stomach growled, telling him he had no other option. He entered the room, hearing Bingley say dreamily, "The family of the blue-eyed angel."
He noted Bingley's mooncalf expression and sent his eyes skyward. St. Peter, help us. Here we go, again. "Pace yourself, Bingley, lest you fall in and out of love with every maiden in Hertfordshire within a fortnight."
Bingley waved off his friend's comment, only to have Miss Bingley start speaking again. "Do tell us about the Bennets, Mr. Darcy. Did you enjoy your dance with..." She glanced at her sister as if seeking a hint. "Oh yes. It was Miss Eliza, was it not?" Miss Bingley drawled. "I have heard her described as the jewel of Hertfordshire, if not all of England." She did a poor job hiding a snicker behind her hand.
"Miss Elizabeth has been an acquaintance of mine most of my life. She was my father's goddaughter." He had not wanted to inform everyone of his connection to the Bennets just yet, but felt it better to deal with the shock privately. The reaction was everything he expected. Miss Bingley let out a small squeak, but was speechless.
Bingley was the first to find his voice. "By jove, Darcy! I had no idea!"
"No, you would not have. I generally do not bandy about my family business," he said in an irritated tone.
Haughtily, Miss Bingley replied, "Certainly they do not expect you to continue your acquaintance now that there is no longer a connection."
Darcy threw her a dark glare. He had barely sat down and already his tolerance was reaching a breaking point. He saw Bingley flush with embarrassment, which calmed him slightly. He would have to have a word with Bingley though. He would not allow Miss Bingley to interfere with his friendship with Elizabeth. "There are no expectations on either side, though I certainly hope to be welcomed in their home. As I said, I have known the Bennets most of my life," Darcy said through clenched teeth.
Miss Bingley screeched, "Why have we heard nothing of this until now? It certainly could not have been a very strong connection!"
Darcy took a deep calming breath, reminding himself he was a gentleman. Still, he could not stop the edge in his tone. "I fail to see how my family connections are your concern, Miss Bingley." He threw a warning look to Bingley. Based on the way Bingley shrank in his chair, Darcy was certain Bingley understood his sentiments perfectly.
Then, when he was certain Miss Bingley would be silent on the subject, Darcy addressed Bingley directly. "I must confess, Bingley, my acquaintance with the Bennets is part of what induced me to travel with you."
Bingley smiled, clapped Darcy on the shoulder, and expelled a nervous laugh. "Glad to be of service!" Leaning over the table he added in a whispered tone, "And perhaps you might return the favour by allowing me to join you when you visit the family before we receive a formal invite?"
Darcy suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. They had been in the neighbourhood for less than two days and he could tell Bingley already fancied himself in love. It had to be a new record. "Of course, Bingley," he said dryly.
Shortly after that, Georgiana entered the room. Darcy smiled and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Pea Head," he said for her ears only.
Georgiana returned a wan smile, but averted her eyes as she took her seat.
Darcy watched helplessly. The Georgiana of old would have at least glared at him for the use of her childhood nickname, if not admonished him outright. The Georgiana of late had done neither.
Once again, he wracked his brain for a way to reach her, but came up empty. Then, remembering his meeting with Elizabeth, his spirits were once again buoyed. He hoped Georgiana would greet the news with some enthusiasm. If news of Elizabeth did not work, he did not know what would.
Elizabeth returned from her walk in high spirits. She finally understood what had happened between her and the Darcys. She still felt a trace of guilt for her misjudgement of Darcy, but that was overshadowed by the elation she felt at renewing their friendship. She knew things might be awkward as they became reacquainted, but there was little doubt they could work through it.
She entered the breakfast area, and not surprisingly found it empty, though the bustle of the servants told her the others would be down soon. Knowing her father would already have risen, she headed to his study to relay Darcy's message.
"Good morning, Papa!" she said with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm.
Mr. Bennet let his book fall to his lap. "Good morning, Lizzy. Are the birds and leaves so extraordinary this morning? It is as though you are on the verge of a fit of nerves."
Elizabeth laughed at her father's teasing as she curled up into what had become her chair. "No, Papa. It is a glorious morning, but no more so than usual." After a brief hesitation, she added, "I encountered Mr. Darcy this morning on my walk."
Mr. Bennet's curiosity was immediately piqued. "I met him at the Assembly last night. He mentioned he spoke to you as well."
Elizabeth blushed slightly, remembering how cold she had been towards Darcy during their dance. "He did." Changing the subject before her father could ask any more questions, she said, "Mr. Darcy asked me to tell you that he would not be able to call until tomorrow."
Mr. Bennet nodded. "So Lizzy. How do you find your old friend? Is he much altered?"
"I confess I was surprised he even remembered me."
Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Who could not remember a young girl who gets stuck in trees?"
Recalling the Miss Marcy incident, Elizabeth blushed deeply. "Really, Papa! It was only that one time, and I have not climbed a tree in many years."
"Not when anyone was looking at least," her father retorted, causing Elizabeth to blush again. "But come, Lizzy. You have not told me what you think of him now. Is he much like his father?"
Elizabeth furrowed her brow in thought for moment. "In many ways, yes, he reminds me of my godfather. He certainly has the same looks." She tugged on an errant strand of hair near her chin, winding it around her finger. "There is something changed in him though. When I first saw him, he appeared terribly serious, even sombre; not much like I remember him." She relaxed her eyebrows. "He danced with me once, and once with each of the ladies from his own party, but did not dance the remainder of the night; nor did I see him conversing much." With a shrug she added, "But he was amiable enough this morning when we spoke."
Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully, "Fitzwilliam was always a serious, shy kind of lad -- especially amongst strangers. Not at all like that other boy, George. Perhaps he still suffers the loss of his parents. He was quite young when he took on the responsibility of Pemberley and guardian."
Elizabeth's eyes softened in compassion as she nodded. Even now, she could see Darcy's tear stained cheeks when his father had passed. "Yes. I would be very pained if I were to lose you."
Mr. Bennet raised a corner of his mouth. "And you would not be if it were your mother?"
"Papa!" she admonished. "Of course I would be!" Her father's askance look caused her to blush. "But perhaps not as much," she murmured, almost under her breath.
Mr. Bennet let out a chuckle.
The sound of Lydia's giggle penetrated the sanctuary, cuing the two that others of the house had risen. "I suppose we should join your mother and sisters at breakfast. I will have to wait until the morrow for my chance to assess the young man."
After breakfast that morning, Darcy waited in his sitting room for Georgiana to join him. He had told her he wanted to speak with her before quitting the breakfast table. Now, he was anxiously waiting to break what he hoped would be welcome news.
A soft knock on the door indicated his sister's presence.
"Come in, Georgiana." After being given some reassurance Georgiana was comfortable and settled well enough, he began. "My dear, do you remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"
Georgiana creased her brow in thought. "Oh yes! She was father's goddaughter. She was always kind to me, and played with me when you and..." She faltered, not willing to name the other person. "When you were busy," she finished lamely, casting her eyes towards the floor.
Darcy knew what caused her to falter, but decided to let it slide for the moment. "Do you remember where Miss Elizabeth lives?"
Georgiana looked up at him with a creased brow. A moment later, her lip began to tremble as she shook her head. "No. Should I?" she asked in a small voice.
Darcy cringed seeing her near tears again. These days, the slightest hint she had disappointed him brought tears to her eyes. He quickly tried to assure her. "No. You were quite young. I doubt it was even mentioned to you." He saw her relax a little and continued. "Miss Elizabeth lives in Hertfordshire." He paused a moment, letting Georgiana make the connection. He knew the moment she understood, because her eyes brightened even more. "Is she nearby? Will we see her?"
Darcy smiled broadly. Her reaction gave him hope the news would be as welcomed as he anticipated. "I already have." At Georgiana's bewildered look, he added, "I needed to see her alone first to explain about Lady Catherine."
Georgiana nodded slowly in understanding. Softly she asked, "Is she angry?"
"No, not anymore."
For the first time in months, a faint smile touched Georgiana's lips. "May I see her then?"
Darcy felt his heart ready to burst so pleased was he by Georgiana's reaction. She has requested to pay a call! He knew there was no way he could deny her now, even if he had wanted to. For a moment, he wondered how close the she and Elizabeth had been, and felt a new pang of guilt at having postponed the reunion. He had only thought of himself when he discovered his aunt's interference. "I am to see Mr. Bennet tomorrow. I will speak to Miss Elizabeth and request a reintroduction. Would that be acceptable?"
Georgiana smiled brightly. "You are the best brother!" Then she had another thought. "Is this why you insisted I travel with you?"
Darcy nodded guiltily. "I am sorry I did not tell you earlier. I had to wait until I had a better idea of how we would be received. You will not be angry with me?"
Georgiana threw her arms around Darcy. "Of course not. I could never be angry at you."
Darcy gave his sister a kiss on the cheek. "Good. To your studies now. I need to meet with Bingley. We are to tour the estate."
With a kiss on the cheek, Georgiana did as she was bid.
Darcy watched in awe as his sister left. For the first time in months, he felt as if Georgiana might heal from her ordeal. He would never forget the smile that graced her face upon hearing about Elizabeth. If Elizabeth could save his sister, he would grant her anything, including Pemberley.
Posted on Thursday, 31 January 2008
After the afternoon meal, Bingley and Darcy mounted their horses to tour the estate. "Keep in mind, Darcy, this is not Pemberley," Bingley said.
Darcy smiled, as a father would to his son. There was no way Darcy could mistake Netherfield Park for Pemberley. He was perhaps partial, but he had yet to find an estate that compared to his Pemberley, including his friend, Lord Blakeslee's estate, Trentholm Park. "No need to concern yourself. I am capable of evaluating a piece of property without comparing it to Pemberley," Darcy replied wryly.
As they rode out, Darcy did his best to point out areas that needed attention in a manner that would teach Bingley how to manage the estate himself. He knew Bingley did not fully understand the task he had undertaken. It was not a fault of Bingley's, it was simply no one new to property management ever did. And, as if land ownership was not difficult enough, unlike himself, Bingley did not have the advantage of beginning his education at an early age. None the less, Darcy was dedicated to teaching Bingley at least the essentials before he was required back at Pemberley.
With this frame of mind, they headed towards the first of the tenant homes. Darcy showed Bingley how to inspect the homes and fields, pointing out the signs of various problems as they went. He was pleased to see Bingley eagerly and actively participating in the inspections and asking good questions. It had been a productive day, but Darcy knew there were many challenges ahead for his friend, especially given his amiable nature.
After touring several homes, Darcy was not surprised to see Bingley was tired, and not a little overwhelmed. Knowing Bingley had had enough, he suggested returning to the main house.
For much of the ride, they were silent. Riding out with Bingley had brought memories of time with his own father to the forefront of Darcy's mind. With some chagrin, he recalled his reluctance to join his father when he had to deal with tenant issues or planning for the spring planting. Now, he would gladly deal with tenant issues every day if only to have a few more minutes with his father.
It should be said that not all the memories were sad or with regret however. In fact, the majority of the memories were happy. He recalled how every spring and fall, he and his father would ride out and oversee the progress being made on the planting or harvesting. He also recalled the times he and his father had sat in the study looking over the estate books, marking down the year's yield by crop, or the birth of a new farm animal. He remembered the pride he had felt when his father had dismissed his mother and younger sister with a knowing look to him, stating, "We are busy with men's work."
Most dominant in his memory was the pride he felt the first time his father went out to show him the estate. It was much like he had done today with Bingley. At the time, Darcy was no more than ten. It had been just him and his father. Mrs. Reynolds had packed them a lunch and they had eaten it at the top of the limestone ridge that separated Pemberley grounds from those of the tenants. "Each house represents a family that depends on us," his father had said. "Everyone will know the kind of man you are by your tenants. If you are a fair and good master, your tenants will be happy and Pemberley will be prosperous. If you are not, your days will be filled with problems and Pemberley will slowly crumble into nothing."
That day, as they met with some of the tenants, and he saw how they greeted his father, he swore to follow his father's legacy. He would be a man that would keep Pemberley prosperous. A man his tenants would look up to and respect -- just as they did his father.
He glanced at Bingley and felt a twinge of sorrow for him. His friend would never have such memories, and Darcy could certainly not substitute for a father. Bingley was at a definite disadvantage.
Of course, thoughts of his father always brought reminders of his father's eventual demise. Even though it had been six years, he still felt the loss of his father acutely. He would never forget the loneliness he felt the first time he had ridden out on the lands alone; looking over the tenant houses from that same limestone ridge, knowing it all rested on him now. With a small smile, he recalled returning home that evening and writing a letter to Elizabeth, spilling all of his doubts and fears. That is what she had always been for him. With her, he could always be his complete self; she did not judge him or laugh. She would lend a sympathetic ear, but never pitied him. She could read his moods when others could not.
His thoughts were interrupted as they neared the house and Bingley asked, "So what is your impression, Darcy?"
It took Darcy a moment to recognize the nature of Bingley's question, but he finally replied, "The tenants' homes are suffering a little from neglect, but that is not surprising. You will have your work cut out for you, but I see nothing catastrophic." He chuckled as he watched Bingley rise up in stirrups with pride.
"Do you recommend I purchase it then?" Bingley asked.
"That is a decision only you can make, Bingley. I have only said I see nothing disastrous." He could not help but notice the pride the exuded from Bingley's being, and felt a sparkle of pride himself. Recalling their less than auspicious beginning, he was happy to be part of such a defining moment in his friend's life. Bingley had become the man people believed he could be; he would be a good, attentive and fair master. In fact, Darcy was much more concerned about the tenants taking advantage of Bingley than the tenants being ill treated.
Seeing the grin on Bingley's face, he bit down on the sharp comment that was waiting to be released. He would do nothing to dampen the moment for his friend. He was, however, glad Bingley had already signed a lease. Knowing his friend's impulsive nature, had a lease not been signed, Darcy knew Bingley would most likely be signing a purchase agreement the next day.
The following morning, Darcy paid a call to Longbourn along with Mr. Bingley. They were both greeted enthusiastically by Mrs. Bennet's high shrieks. She spent an inordinate amount of time apologizing to Mr. Darcy for not remembering him before fawning over Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth watched as her mother contemplated seating arrangements. She seated Mr. Bingley next to Jane, and thankfully, before she could seat Darcy, the man excused himself stating he was expected by Mr. Bennet.
Elizabeth showed Darcy to her father's study, fully expecting to pass the afternoon in a delightful conversation with him and her father. Therefore, she was quite disappointed she was not asked to stay, and grudgingly returned to the drawing room.
Her spirits were lifted though, when she noticed Jane and Bingley engaged in a little tête-à-tête. Jane had a slight blush to her cheeks and could barely look at Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bingley, on the other hand, could not keep his eyes off Jane. Her sister was most certainly smitten by Mr. Bingley, and he with her. She could not help but smile at the idea and the picture they presented. Jane deserved every happiness, and if it came with a sizeable income, even better.
In the study at Longbourn, Darcy greeted Elizabeth's father with all the formality the situation required. "Mr. Bennet," Darcy he said, with a bow.
"Fitzwilliam!" Mr. Bennet greeted in return. "Er, perhaps I should say Mr. Darcy."
Darcy shook his head. "Please, call me Darcy."
"Then call me Bennet."
Darcy nodded in acknowledgement and took the seat proffered by the elder man.
"How is Pemberley these days?"
"Very well," Darcy replied, "it has not changed much."
"And your sister?" Mr. Bennet inquired.
Darcy smiled tightly. "She is well. She stays with me at Netherfield, but was unable to visit today. She is most anxious to be acquainted with both you and Miss Elizabeth again."
Mr. Bennet chuckled. "I suspect that to be a half truth. She can have little interest in seeing an old man, though I will believe you if you say she is anxious to see Lizzy."
Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgement of the elder man's observations.
"What about that George fellow?" Mr. Bennet asked innocently, "the son of your father's steward."
At the mention of Wickham, Darcy's visage darkened substantially. "Wickham's father died a year after my own. Unfortunately, George did not turn out much like his father," Darcy said. "I have not voluntarily associated with him for many years."
Mr. Bennet looked askance at the young man, curious at his grim reaction. "May I infer he did not take the clergyman's living left to him by your father then?"
Darcy suppressed the urge to snort derisively. "No, he did not. He indicated, shortly after his own father passed, he had no intention of taking orders. Instead, he expressed an interest in law and asked for the amount of the living. I readily granted him a lump sum of three thousand pounds, happy to wash my hands of him."
Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully. He assumed there was more to the tale, based on the vehemence in Darcy's tone, but decided not to press the matter, at least not at this time. "I cannot say I am all that surprised. I always considered him a little too smooth for the cloth." He shook his head amusedly. "I never did understand how he got you to take the blame all those times."
Darcy's eyes widened in shock. "You knew?" He was somewhat relieved. He had thought he was the only one who had seen through George's amiable façade.
Mr. Bennet could not but chuckle. "My Lizzy always told me the full story later. Did you never wonder why some of your punishments were suddenly commuted or mitigated?"
A faint blush suffused Darcy's cheeks and for a moment he felt like a young boy being called to the carpet. "I must confess, sir, I was generally too relieved to think on it too deeply."
Mr. Bennet chuckled again. "As most boys your age would. Your father knew the truth about George, but he always hoped age and education would mature him."
Darcy nodded thoughtfully at the information and new perspective Mr. Bennet offered. He had always thought his father had a blind eye where George was concerned. Now he knew that to be untrue. He wondered if his father also knew of the gambling debts and women. He had assumed not, as he highly doubted his father would have left him a living as a clergyman if he had; and was pained at how disappointed his father would be if he knew the whole truth. At the same time, he was relieved to know his father was not completely blind. He also came to a new understanding of his father's love for the boy. George truly was like a son to his father, and he had never given up hope for him.
Mr. Bennet and Darcy continued to converse for another quarter hour about Hertfordshire and the surrounding area, Darcy's opinion on it, and news of the family.
Darcy then adjourned to the drawing room, anxious to speak with Elizabeth. Their friendship was still tenuous, and he needed reassurance before reintroducing Georgiana.
When he entered the drawing room, he was pleased to notice most of the others were preparing for a stroll in the gardens. He took note of Bingley and sighed quietly to himself; Bingley could hardly take his eyes off Miss Bennet.
As they stepped outside, Mary headed directly to a stone bench and promptly opened her book. In a matter of mere minutes, she was oblivious to the rest of the party. Elizabeth smiled again as she watched Bingley lead Jane to another bench and begin talking again amongst themselves. They were completely oblivious to anyone around them.
Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, which was accepted, and the two strolled leisurely through the garden. "Did you enjoy your conversation with my father, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, evidently put out.
"I did," Darcy answered, amused at her use of the formal appellation. "We talked mostly of Pemberley and family." When Elizabeth said nothing, Darcy asked, "You are not too angry you were not invited to stay, were you?"
Elizabeth looked down at the ground, unwilling to own to the childish behaviour, causing Darcy chuckle. "I suppose I should not be. It is only that we have not seen each other for so long, and I am curious to hear all that has happened."
Darcy patted the hand that held his arm. "There is plenty of time for catching up."
Elizabeth nodded, feeling a bit more assured their friendship would be rekindled. "May I ask how Miss Darcy fares? I was surprised she did not accompany you today."
"Georgiana is quite shy. I was uncertain on the length of my discussion with your father and did not want her left alone and uncomfortable."
"You are a very kind and thoughtful older brother. Were I to have been so fortunate," Elizabeth teased.
"Were you so deserving!" Darcy countered, laughingly. "You cannot feign innocence with me. You earned every trick played on you."
At this, both laughed and then let out contented sighs.
It had been months since Darcy had laughed. He marvelled at how quickly Elizabeth had lifted his spirits, and was amazed at how everything felt so right again. He knew if Georgiana would confide in Elizabeth, she would help her conquer her current depression. If nothing else, Elizabeth would help him, and he could in turn help his sister. He could not bring it up yet, it was still too early. Eventually though, he would.
Noticing the late hour, and knowing Georgiana was awaiting his report, Darcy called to Bingley and they took their leave. Prior to leaving though, they gave their assurances to return the following day with Georgiana.
Elizabeth spent the following morning in excited anticipation. She felt like a child waiting for Father Christmas, and could only laugh at herself. She had thought her next meetings with Darcy would be uncomfortable, but yesterday it was as if there had never been a separation. They were teasing one another and talking about anything and everything.
Soon a carriage bearing the Darcy crest pulled up in front of the house. The party entered, and the gentlemen were greeted. After some curtsies and bows, everyone's attention was drawn to the young girl who had been standing timidly behind Darcy. She stepped out and suddenly exclaimed "Elizabeth!" a little louder than propriety permitted. Georgiana strode quickly over to Elizabeth who was chuckling. Then, as if suddenly remembering her manners, Georgiana dropped her eyes and blushed as she gave a proper curtsey. "Forgive me, I mean Miss Bennet," she uttered so quietly Elizabeth had to strain to hear her.
Darcy was stunned at his sister's outburst. She had never reacted like that, even before last summer. Realizing Georgiana was now embarrassed, and hoping to prevent her from retreating into her shell, he put a supportive hand on her shoulder and quickly performed the introductions. For him, anything other than Georgiana's usual demureness was an improvement, even a mild breach in decorum.
"Miss Darcy, it is a pleasure to see you again after so many years!" Elizabeth exclaimed, trying to make light of the girl's outburst. She had not expected Georgiana to remember her, much less with so much enthusiasm. "But please, call me Elizabeth as you used to." She was pleased to see Georgiana seemingly recover from her outburst.
Georgiana looked up with a small smile. "Then you may call me Georgiana." She briefly shifted her focus to Jane. "You may as well, Miss Bennet."
Jane smiled, "Thank you Georgiana, and you should feel free to call me Jane."
Remembering Darcy's words on Georgiana's shyness, Elizabeth searched for a topic that would draw the young girl out. After inviting Georgiana to sit next to her, Elizabeth said, "You must tell me all about Pemberley now. It has been many years since I last visited. Has it changed much?"
Georgiana looked to her brother, then back to Elizabeth. "It has not changed much." She gazed at her hands while she quietly added, "I was still young when last we met."
Elizabeth nodded, realizing Darcy had not exaggerated when he said Georgiana was shy. She wondered if this was a recent development; she did not recall Georgiana being shy as a child, but then again, she always saw her at Pemberley. Attempting to sooth the young girl's anxiety, Elizabeth commented, "As was I." With a quick glance to Darcy she added, "As well as your brother." She then leaned close to Georgiana and in a loud whisper inquired, "Tell me, Georgiana. Does your brother still steal girls' bonnets?"
"Lizzy!" Jane scolded her teasing sister.
Georgiana looked incredulously at her brother as a blush suffused her face. "Fitzwilliam would never do that!" she exclaimed quietly.
Elizabeth laughed aloud. "Oh but he did, and more than once!"
Georgiana looked at her brother, still in shock. She could never think of him doing something so improper. In awe, she exclaimed, "You stole Elizabeth's bonnet?"
Darcy flushed from head to toe into the deepest colour red. He glared at Elizabeth who was grinning smugly. He was uncertain he approved of Elizabeth's tactic for drawing out his sister, but he could not complain with results. At least she has only told one of the more innocent tales. "I stole Miss Bennet's bonnet a few times when we were very young." Darcy said, trying to defend himself against the worst. With a disgruntled tone, he added, "It appears Miss Bennet will have her revenge on me yet."
Elizabeth laughed. "I could not have the world, much less your own sister believe you to be without fault, sir. Not with so much evidence to the contrary."
Darcy audibly groaned. The response was more for the benefit of his sister, than an expression of his actual feelings. Whatever Elizabeth's ploy, it was working, and thus he decided to play along. "Very well. But I will ask you to leave me with a little dignity. I am still Georgiana's guardian."
Georgiana giggled, a sound that warmed Darcy's heart. "Do not worry, Brother. You will always remain the best of brothers to me." With another tinkle of laughter, and perhaps even a sparkle of mischief, she added, "But I would very much like to know what you were like as a boy."
Jane took pity on Darcy and said, "Lizzy, be kind to Mr. Darcy, lest I decide to tell everyone here of some of your escapades."
Elizabeth stuck out her chin. "I am not afraid of you, Jane." she declared defiantly.
Jane leaned over and whispered quietly, "Then I shall tell them about you hiding Easter dinner in your room."
At her sister's statement Elizabeth's eyes grew wide and she gasped. "I was four!" She still could not restrain a deep blush that reached the roots of her hair. She knew her sister would make good on her threat, so with a disgruntled sigh, she said, "Very well, Jane." She turned towards Mr. Darcy with slightly narrowed eyes. "You are safe for now, Mr. Darcy. You should be most grateful to my sister."
Darcy nodded slowly, a manner Elizabeth knew well. She would not escape telling him what Jane had whispered. With any luck though, she could put it off until they could speak more privately and keep her antics a secret from Mr. Bingley and Georgiana.
Changing the subject, Elizabeth inquired more after Pemberley. "How is Mrs. Reynolds?"
Georgiana smiled. "She is well. Her daughter recently had a little girl. It is all she can speak of."
"My congratulations to her then." Moving onto another topic, Elizabeth inquired, "Do you still play the pianoforte, Georgiana? You were only just learning when I last saw you."
Georgiana beamed. "I do. Mrs. Annesley, my companion, assists me. I practice nearly every day. Fitzwilliam is always buying me music."
Elizabeth smiled at Darcy and then back to Georgiana. "I would dearly love to hear you play."
Georgiana paled. Alarmed, Elizabeth looked to Darcy, who explained, "Georgiana is not yet secure in her proficiency, and does not like to perform for those outside the family."
Elizabeth smiled and gave Georgiana's hand a comforting squeeze. "You do not have to play now, but perhaps we could find a moment alone before you return to Pemberley and you could play for me then. Maybe we can find time for a duet, though you will have to suffer my fumbling."
To Darcy's surprise, Georgiana agreed. "Netherfield has a very nice pianoforte," Georgiana offered. "Perhaps you could come to tea?" She looked pleadingly to Darcy, who only nodded his approval.
"I would like that very much."
Satisfied with the arrangements, the three of them continued in conversation about Pemberley, Lambton, and the Derbyshire area. Much to Darcy's delight, Georgiana appeared happy and spoke very animatedly with Elizabeth. It was almost as if the girl of the last three months had disappeared. He could not have asked for a better reunion. He set to thinking about the best way in which to thank Elizabeth. She had worked a miracle, and he would be forever grateful.
Not long afterwards, the Netherfield party stood to leave, and as the others had hardly acknowledged their departure, Elizabeth and Jane took it upon themselves to see the guests out.
The ride back to Netherfield from Longbourn was unusually quiet. Georgiana sat across from Darcy and Bingley, fidgeting with her gloves. Darcy was curious to hear her impression of Elizabeth, but her demeanour betrayed little; she was a Darcy after all. Finally, he caught her eye. She smiled broadly, and then dropped her eyes to her gloves once again. Darcy's heart leapt for joy. Georgiana was happy; he had seen a sparkle in her eye, and then the smile. He was certain she would burst if they did not speak soon.
His mind began trying to determine when and where to speak with her. He knew she would not say anything in front of Miss Bingley, nor would he want her too.
They alighted from the carriage, and Darcy whispered in his sister's ear, "I will be in my rooms." Georgiana nodded slightly and then took her leave.
Twenty minutes later, there was a light knock on the door to his sitting room. "Come," he said.
Georgiana stepped in, and the moment the door was closed, her pent up excitement poured forth. "She is just as I remember, Fitzwilliam! She is so kind and friendly! I like her very much! Thank you for introducing us again."
Darcy chuckled at his sister's enthusiasm. "I think you like Miss Elizabeth because she told you wretched stories of me," Darcy retorted.
Georgiana laughed. "Oh, I did quite enjoy those stories. But that is not the only reason I like her. She is a very kind person, and so sincere; not like the others. Her sister is very nice as well. I would love to be as pretty as Jane. I am not surprised Mr. Bingley fancies her."
"Indeed." Still smarting from being the object of Elizabeth's teasing, he added, "Though I think I would prefer Miss Elizabeth to be a little less kind in the future." This brought a new wave of laughter from his sister.
Darcy's heart swelled. He had not heard his sister's laughter all summer. Even if Elizabeth had publicly scorned him, it was worth the trip to Hertfordshire just to hear his sister laugh again.
"When may I see her again? Do you think Miss Bingley would invite her to tea?"
Darcy contemplated how to broach the sensitive topic. It would show poor breeding to speak ill of their hostess. Still, he knew Elizabeth was the last person Miss Bingley would want at Netherfield, and he needed to convey that to his sister. "Miss Bingley does not share our opinion of the Bennets. I do not think she will favour that invitation, but I will speak to Bingley. Else, I will speak with Miss Elizabeth and arrange something."
Georgiana opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. She knew Miss Bingley had her hopes set on her brother, and she did not like it. It was not her place to say anything though, especially after last summer. Instead, she only smiled and said, "Thank you, Fitzwilliam. You are the best of brothers."
Darcy watched Georgiana leave his room. He had not seen her so enthusiastic about anything since before Ramsgate. He smiled, knowing he had at last found the cure for last summer.
There was still the little complication of Miss Bingley though. He had to find ways for Georgiana and Elizabeth to meet without that lady's presence. Perhaps he could use Bingley's latest infatuation to his advantage. He knew Miss Bingley did not approve of her brother's choice. That was reason enough to encourage calling on Longbourn rather than inviting the Miss Bennets to Netherfield. He would speak to Elizabeth about it.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three