Beginning, Previous Section, Section V
Jump to new as of June 15, 2006
Jump to new as of July 1, 2006
Jump to new as of May 5, 2009
Posted on Tuesday, 3 January 2006
Mr Darcy strolled as slowly as possible in order to extend the time spent with Elizabeth on his arm. Knowing, however, that his aunt would be watching for his return, he reluctantly left Elizabeth at the parsonage gate. Upon entering the house, Elizabeth, still feeling more than unsettled, might have wished for some distraction from thoughts of Mr Darcy -- but such a reprieve was not to be had. The arrival of Lady Catherine's two nephews had been soon known at the parsonage. Mr Collins had been walking the whole morning within view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, in order to have the earliest assurance of it; and after making his bow as the carriage turned into the park, had hurried home with the great intelligence. Disappointed to find Elizabeth from home, he imparted the news to Charlotte and Maria, and impatiently awaited the return of his cousin. She had not taken more than two steps into the cottage before Mr Collins began assaulting her with his information.
"Cousin Elizabeth, I must say that you timed your exercise very ill, for if you had deferred your walk for but five minutes, I could have given you the earliest intelligence of the arrival of Lady Catherine's guests. Acquainted as you are with both the gentlemen; no doubt you are pleased that I can assure you of their safe arrival."
Given Mr Collin's obvious enthusiasm at being bearer of such premium tidings, Elizabeth held back that she had already met with Mr Darcy, and instead politely thanked him for the information. Her hope that this might end all discussion of Mr Darcy was in vain, however. Mr Collins went on to speak of Lady Catherine's pleasure at the arrival of her favourite nephew who, in many ways was "closer to a son" -- and of how he was certain that Miss De Bourg would indeed be delighted. The subject did not die there; Mr Collins returning to it often throughout the afternoon and evening.
Elizabeth slept ill that night, as the more she tried to clear her mind of thoughts of Mr Darcy, the more they intruded. It was odd; after his initial hesitancy he had seemed truly glad to see her, and not in the least impatient to escape her company. She wondered if he might feel easier within the context of Rosings, believing that she could not mistake his behaviour for that of romantic interest whilst he was visiting at the home of his intended wife. This idea though, did not sit with her as rational. She thought she knew enough of Mr Darcy's character to be confident that he'd not marry solely for wealth and alliance. Oddly, though she had initially believed his interference in Mr Bingley's affairs proved exactly the opposite, she now held to it as a comfort - accepting that he'd tried to keep his friend from a match where he suspected there was not reciprocal affection. Feeling insecure, however, she began to wonder if Mr Darcy might not actually harbour feelings for his cousin. Time and familiarity may have worked their charm, besides which, it was possible that Miss De Bourg might behave very differently in the presence of her cousin than she did in general company. Not, she reminded herself, that any of this made any difference to her own situation. Mr Darcy's voluntary absences had made it very clear that whatever pleasure he might find in Elizabeth's company when she was conveniently close by, it was not the stuff of romantic love.
The following morning Mr Collin's hastened to Rosings to pay his respects and when Mr Collins returned, both visiting gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband's room, crossing the road, and immediately running into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding,
"I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me. He certainly has shown improvement from an inauspicious beginning, though I'm hardly surprised to find him not impervious to your charms."
Feeling a stab of distress at this reminder of his uncivil judgement at their first acquaintance, Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to Charlotte's compliment before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards, the three gentlemen entered the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been very happy to learn of Elizabeth's residence at the parsonage, entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly to all the ladies in the room. Mr Darcy talked scarcely less than his cousin, taking care to include both Charlotte and Maria in the conversation. Elizabeth had sometimes seen this open side to Mr Darcy when just she and he were together, but never had she seen him so amicable within general company, nor so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from such endeavours at civility. She momentarily wondered if the effort might be on her account before chastising herself for encouraging vain hopes.
The gentlemen's manners were very much admired at the parsonage, and though Elizabeth offered her agreement when Charlotte suggested their presence must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings, part of her still feared to witness what Mr Darcy's attentions might be to Miss De Bourg. It was some days, however, before they received any invitation to Rosings, for while there were visitors in the house they could not be necessary; and it was not till Easter-day, almost a week after the gentlemen's arrival, that they were honoured by such an attention, and then they were merely asked on leaving church to come there in the evening. For the last week they had seen very little of either Lady Catherine or her daughter, though Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage more than once. Elizabeth had resumed her easy relationship with the Colonel and being anxious that she display only appropriate friendship to Mr Darcy, believed she was acting naturally in his company. Indeed, she was persuaded that she participated in conversation with him as much as ever, but her mind was so busily engaged with the effort, that she did not always know when she was silent.
The invitation to the grand house was accepted, of course, and though Darcy was able to return to Rosings from church with the anticipation of seeing Elizabeth that evening, he had a growing disquiet over Elizabeth's withdrawn response to his attentions. The relief he'd felt upon learning of his mistake in regard to her relationship with Kingsmill, had faded somewhat as he looked back over his own behaviour to her since Christmas. Indeed, if she had any notion at all about his desires, his long absence must make him appear a most indifferent lover. Neither could he feel any more comfortable as he cast his mind over the whole six months of their association. He recalled, with no small chagrin, his initial dismissal of her upon first association, his erratic attentions to her at Netherfield whilst wrestling a belief in her comparative inferiority, and his absconding to London. Such thoughts again reminded him of Elizabeth's Christmas Eve indictment of arrogance, conceit, and a selfish disdain of others' feelings, and he could still feel the smart of these charges. He wondered if it might even be possible to regain her esteem, but her presence at Rosings was like a gift, and he could not but try.
At a proper hour those from the parsonage joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room, making it difficult for Darcy to do little more than welcome Elizabeth without showing disrespect to his aunt. Colonel Fitzwilliam was of course, really glad to see the guests for the evening. Any thing was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and he always enjoyed his lively exchanges with Elizabeth. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of mutual acquaintances, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before. She happily immersed herself in the conversation in order to cover her concerns over being in the company of Mr Darcy and Miss De Bourg together. Their conversation moved with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself as well as of Mr Darcy. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them; and that her ladyship after a while shared his interest, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out,
"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."
"We are speaking of music, Madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.
"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. "
At this pronouncement Elizabeth looked intently at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love, and the relief that this realisation brought was not inconsiderable.
"How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?" his Aunt enquired
Elizabeth smiled at Mr Darcy as he spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.
"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great deal."
"I assure you, Madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly."
"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account."
Suddenly feeling a need to protect Mr Darcy from further lecturing from his Aunt, Elizabeth took the opportunity to say how beautifully Georgiana played, and to comment upon how pleased Mary had been with Miss Darcy's friendship since she had removed to London upon her marriage.
"I know that Georgiana has greatly valued the acquaintance," Darcy smiled back at Elizabeth, not admitting that he had avoided much conversation with his sister concerning the Bennets, for a fear that it must one day bring the news of Elizabeth's engagement.
The conversation was not to be turned though, as Lady Catherine refused to be distracted from the determined espousal of her opinion.
"I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs Jenkinson's room. She would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn," she reiterated.
"Dear Aunt, Miss Bennet cannot be said to suffer from lack of exposure to London Masters," the Colonel laughed, "She is sister to Mr Jonathan West."
"Don't think that I have not been informed of this connection" Lady Catherine answered casting an imperious look of disapproval upon the nephew who had the effrontery to contradict her. "I have heard that the young man is not without some talent, but if one is to have the input of a true master, one needs to sit under Maestro Botsworth."
Mr. Darcy looked more than ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding, and wondered what else she might say to offend, but a look in Elizabeth's direction showed her rather hiding amusement at the recommendation of Mr Botsworth; a pretentious fop whose fame was garnered far more from conceited self promotion than from any extraordinary talent.
"As the coffee is finished," Colonel Fitzwilliam began before his aunt could say anything else to embarrass them, "I must remind you, Miss Bennet, of your promise to play for me this evening."
Elizabeth, quite understanding the advantages of music over conversation at this time, did not demure but transferred immediately to the instrument and exchanged an amused but understanding glance with the colonel as he removed himself from the vicinity of his aunt and drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter also walked away from his aunt, and moving with his usual deliberation towards the piano forte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of Elizabeth's countenance. Something in his action brought back the nervous emotions associated with his similar attentions at Netherfield, and she was glad to be playing only a light and easy air, as she thought she might otherwise have stumbled.
She must have brought the song off though, with some degree of credibility, as both gentlemen commended her warmly, before Mr Darcy -- knowing the composer to be a favourite of Elizabeth's -- requested Beethoven. Happy to lose herself in a loved piece of music, Elizabeth began Quasi una Fantasia, playing with all the sensitivity and emotion such music stirred within. As she looked up into the silence that met the fading of the final notes, she found Mr Darcy's eyes still intently upon her. Lady Catherine may have been discerning enough not to interrupt the effect the piece appeared to have on others, but she could not remain silent for more than a moment once Elizabeth finished – and, for once, Elizabeth was not sad for the distraction she created.
"Very prettily played, Miss Bennet, though I do not like these modern composers as much as the masters of Baroque."
Considering the pretentious style of Rosings, Elizabeth was not at all surprised at such an announcement, but kept all comment to herself. At the request of the gentlemen, she remained at the instrument -- forbearing with an appearance of civility all Lady Catherine's remarks on her performance, mixed as they were with many instructions on execution and taste. These at least continued to provide some diversion from her awareness of Mr Darcy's gaze, which seemed to linger on her 'til her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.
By the next morning Elizabeth had almost managed to convince herself that it would be foolish to read admiration into Mr Darcy's looks, and determined not to allow herself to think of him. She was sitting by herself, and writing to Jane, while Mrs Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage she steeled herself, thinking it not unlikely to be the gentlemen, but she felt a pang of apprehension as Mr Darcy, and Mr Darcy only, entered the room.
He too seemed surprised, but not unhappy, upon finding her alone, but apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within.
They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. Being just the two of them for the first time since the day of Darcy's arrival in Kent, both felt the necessity of finding the right topic for comfortable conversation – but such an imperative itself seemed to make this aim an awkward impossibility. Elizabeth, finally recalling her occupation prior to his walking into the room, mentioned that she had been writing to the Bingleys.
"Jane said in her last, that they were glad they returned to London in time to see you a number of times before your current engagement with your Aunt. They will miss your presence during this time in town."
Given that Darcy had made amends for his interference between Charles and Jane, the Bingleys may have seemed a neutral subject, but his part in their painful month of estrangement still had the power to make him feel ill at ease. He could also see how his contact with the Bingleys might make it seem stranger still that he had not enquired after Elizabeth, as any interested acquaintance might. He took a moment to compose himself before answering.
"I'm sure they will get on very well without me. They have many friends, and are at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."
"It might be selfish then, for me to wish them soon back at Netherfield. I am very much looking forward to seeing them once more upon my return to Hertfordshire."
"From my conversations with them I would say it not selfish at all. They seem to be very much looking forward to beginning life at their own estate. I'd conjecture it is compliance to the will of others that holds them in London at present."
"You speak of his sisters?" Elizabeth queried, quite willing to hear his opinion on the matter. "There was something in Jane's letters that made me suspect as much, though they contained no actual complaint."
"I can imagine they would not. I have learned that Jane has that certain serenity of a mind at ease with itself. She is so kindly disposed towards everyone that almost all is born with cheerfulness."
Elizabeth gave a sincere smile at Darcy's new understanding of her sister, given that not so long ago he had misread this aspect of Jane's demeanour as a sign that her heart might not be easily touched.
"Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst have welcomed your sister into their family with all that is affectionate and insincere. It might be sufferable if their primary motive were the mending of their rift with Charles, but I suspect that they are not unaware that the ton's current infatuation with your sister opens a wider door to London society. They do like to be seen in the right places with their new sister – as long as Lady Sophia is not present, that is. Whilst maintaining every civil manner, she's still able to make her disapproval of Bingley's sisters fairly plain. It's quite an art – I'm almost frightened of her myself."
It was such a picture of Louisa, Caroline, and Sophia that Elizabeth could not help but laugh. She had always appreciated the cynical edge that could make its way into Mr Darcy observations and, without realising it, she relaxed into the conversation.
"My Aunt Sophia can be a little protective where Jane is concerned," Elizabeth smiled.
"She has that in common with her niece," Darcy answered frankly, causing Elizabeth to blush a little.
"Oh, she is far worse that I," Elizabeth disclaimed. "I think that Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst must be thankful that Sophia's expectant state now keeps her very much at home."
"Indeed!" Darcy concurred with a slight smile.
"I fear I must also offer you my condolences, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth continued with a mock gravity. "Jane implies that you have forfeited the admiration of Miss Bingley to a better man. Is it correct that expectations are rising in regard to a match between Miss Bingley and Mr Allen?"
"It seems this might be the case," Mr Darcy confirmed. "They are certainly very much in each other's company. She even showed me some verse he had written her."
"Oh my! Not Randolph?" Elizabeth looked up to find an amused glint in Mr Darcy's eye. "I wonder if it were even different from the portion he transcribed for Jane. If he hopes to successfully pass such works off as his own, he should plagiarise from a less gifted poet."
"Oh, cruel!" Darcy laughed.
"In all seriousness, though," Elizabeth continued, "I do find the match a strange one. He is from a good family, and richer than Mr Bingley to be sure, which gives him a fair standing in society, but I do think that Miss Bingley has a better mind, and I wonder how such a marriage might turn out."
"As well as any marriage based upon a love of social standing and a mutual derision of others might," Darcy answered. "It is hardly a steady foundation for connubial felicity."
Silence seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as neither had expected the discussion to become so serious.
"This seems a very comfortable house," Darcy finally commented in an abrupt change of topic. "Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr Collins first came to Hunsford."
"I believe she did -- and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."
"Mr Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife," Darcy answered with a smile, before realising he'd again returned the conversation to the subject of matrimony.
"Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding -- though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is a reasonable match for her."
At this Mr Darcy drew his chair a little toward, looking at her intently before saying, "You and I could never be happy with such a compromise…"
Elizabeth looked confused, and the gentleman experienced some discomfiture, suspecting that his own desires were pushing him toward a declaration before the lady might be ready to hear it. His unease though, was soon put to an end by the entrance of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from their walk. Drawing back his chair he introduced a short general dialogue on the very safe subject of Kent and the countryside, before taking his leave of the ladies.
Posted on Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Elizabeth tried to ignore the amused 'I thought as much' look in Charlotte's eye as she'd walked in upon Mr Darcy and Elizabeth's tête-à-tête. She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of Mr Darcy being partial to her, but Elizabeth always rejected the idea.
"He is treating me very much as he has in the past," Elizabeth insisted, keeping her tone light. "Certainly, we enjoy each other's conversation, but have no doubt, he'll soon return to his friends in London or Derbyshire or where-ever, and with little regret."
Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from the danger of raising expectations which might only end in disappointment, but she thought his looks contained more than a simple enjoyment of Elizabeth's company. Still, Elizabeth seemed very sure of herself, and she did have a far greater knowledge of Mr Darcy's ways than Charlotte could presume to possess. If his current behaviour toward Elizabeth reflected his conduct prior to his leaving Netherfield for London, maybe Elizabeth was correct in her reading of the nature of his interest.
"If he only intends friendship," Charlotte could not resist voicing, "I think he might do well to learn to be more guarded in his manners."
"I think many would laugh at the notion that the very controlled Mr Darcy need be more guarded," Elizabeth smiled.
Still, something in her acknowledged a truth in Charlotte's words. She would be better able to manage her understanding of his disinterest if his manner matched his intent. Oft-times something like an edge of intimacy could work its way into their communication. It was odd; she could speak for hours with Colonel Fitzwilliam and their conversation could range in topic, enthusiasm and mood – but even when the Colonel was at his most flirtatious, Elizabeth never felt the bare familiarity that just a short conversation with Mr Darcy was liable to provoke. Today had been no exception. She wondered at how quickly their stilted discussion had moved to an open sharing of opinions on the marriage state. She was at a loss too, to fully comprehend his comment before Charlotte and Mariah had returned home. It had seemed almost clandestine … personal… significant…
Looking back upon it the following day though, Elizabeth censured herself for trying to give a simple statement deeper meaning than had been intended. When she thought about it in the context of their discussion it made perfect sense. They had both just expressed disquiet over unions based on less that affection and respect, so his comment was simply a logical conclusion, a summing up of their exchange. She was going to have to work harder still, if she was to sustain an immunity to his attentions. If he would not guard his manners, she would have to guard herself.
This, however, was much easier thought of than achieved. She was able to maintain a distance when both men visited by fixing more of her attention on Colonel Fitzwilliam, but it was a difficult task when she came across Mr Darcy upon her walks. More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly meet him. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought. The first time, though Elizabeth tried to restrict the conversation to a few formal enquires, he still found it necessary to turn back and walk with her.
Though the last few times he had called at the parsonage with his cousin had been testing for Darcy, he felt all the good fortune of discovering Elizabeth alone. After a few stalled attempts at sustained conversation he wisely turned the discussion to that of her family.
"I received a letter from Georgiana today, and it was all effusion after she and Mrs Annesley had spent another morning with Mrs West. It seems that our sisters are forming a firm bond of friendship."
"Interestingly, I received the counterpart to your letter today. Mary wrote to me of the pleasure she was receiving from such a like minded acquaintance. They both have quieter natures, and something of the same serious studiousness about them. Might I suggest too," Elizabeth added almost hesitantly, "that they can both be shockingly unassuming – I know that Mary never fully appreciates her own value, and I get a sense of something similar in Miss Darcy."
"I think you have just the picture of my sister in what you say. There is not simply shyness in her, but also a lack of confidence. Even with family and fortune such as she possesses -- or possibly even because of these things -- London society can be a threatening one. Though Bingley is my closest of friends, I sometimes wish I had sheltered Georgiana more from the company of his sisters."
"Certainly they would never say anything against Miss Darcy!" Elizabeth answered in surprise. "I have never heard them speak other than good of her."
"Oh no," Darcy smiled. "I did not mean to suggest that they would talk against her. They are every thing flattering – even fawning -- within her presence."
At this point Mr Darcy indicated a nearby bench to her, and they sat down as he continued his explanation.
"It is rather that they tend to speak of others in such a critical way that Georgiana is set ill at ease with the idea that similar conversations may be taking place in drawing rooms across London – and that she might sometimes be the subject of them. You can appreciate why I am so pleased to see her growing friendship with Mrs West. I'm sure their conversation is far more edifying than a discussion on how 'Mrs Smyth was seen in a gown with last year's sleeves' or some other such thing."
"Oh dear, I doubt any of us can completely escape being spoken of. Given the odd disparity between our Landsdowne connections, and a general knowledge of who our real mother's family is, we Bennets have been subject to our fair share of gossip," she sighed. "My philosophy has always been to give it as little credit as it deserves, but Jane used to feel it more keenly."
"A wise philosophy no doubt. I wish you could teach it to Georgiana."
Elizabeth, flushing a little at the compliment that he would like her to influence his sister, decided to lighten the subject.
"It's interesting to think, is it not, that you and I are just as guilty; we might have been charged with gossiping about the Bingley sisters just moments ago."
This elicited a sheepish smile from Darcy. "Can we not think of a better word than 'gossiping'," he asked. 'Might not 'analysing' be a better term."
Elizabeth laughed out loud at this. "I recall you once saying that it had been the study of your life to avoid weakness that would expose you to ridicule. I did not understand at the time that this simply involved a study for more positive words with which to disguise your follies."
Darcy could not help but laugh at such appealing impertinence. "I will never understand why I miss your conversation so much while you and I are apart, when you so obviously delight in misrepresenting everything I say when we are face to face."
"No, indeed!" Elizabeth protested in mock denial. "I take all that you say with the utmost seriousness, and follow it through to its most logical conclusions."
"You are an abominable woman, you know that don't you?" Darcy replied with an easy smile.
"I try my hardest," Elizabeth answered him with her most innocent of looks.
"Come, I had better return you safely to the parsonage. I am sure I have kept you out longer than you anticipated, and Mrs Collins will be expecting you." He stood, offering her his hand.
Elizabeth hesitated a moment before allowing him to assist her to her feet. It took self control to remain composed on finding herself standing too close to the man; Mr Darcy continuing to hold her hand whilst his eyes steadily regarded her in that enigmatic way. She averted her face from his gaze.
"You are right, Mr Darcy," she replied, simply for something to say. "Charlotte has probably been looking for me this half hour or more."
He sighed slightly as she stepped away, but his hand only relinquished hers to place it in the crook of his arm as they turned toward Hunsford.
This instance once more proved the difficulty of maintaining her guard whilst with Mr Darcy. She enjoyed his sense, his opinions and his dry humour and, if she were truly honest, she had very much enjoyed his touch as she walked by his side. It was nothing short of a strong determination of her will that stopped her mind from indulging in flights of fancy built around certain of his comments and looks. She shook her head as she thought of how much energy she'd expended during the past half year, on attempting to keep thoughts of the man at bay.
In order to lessen her chances of meeting Mr Darcy alone, she took care to make sure her rambles were to different parts of the park, so how it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! -- Yet it did, and even a third. It was perverse chance indeed, as at each rendezvous it needed more effort on Elizabeth's part to maintain the required distance. His seeming interest in her thoughts and opinions; his looks, his laugh, the way he always appeared truly pleased to stop, to talk, to take her arm to escort her back to the parsonage – all these wore upon her, and she felt the danger of making herself a fool by completely giving herself over to an unreciprocated ardour.
To steel herself in the eventuality that she might come across Mr Darcy once more, she was engaged one day, as she walked, in re-counting to herself the evidence that Mr Darcy's interest was merely platonic, She forced her mind to dwell upon her overhearing at the Meryton assembly, his early return to London, his attendance in Hertfordshire for only the shortest of times before Jane and Mr Bingley's wedding, --when, instead of being again surprised by Mr Darcy, she saw on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting her discouraging thoughts aside and forcing a smile, she said,
"I did not know before that you ever walked this way."
"I have been making the tour of the Park," he replied, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"
"No, I should have turned in a moment."
And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.
"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she.
"Yes -- if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."
"Mr Darcy has extended your visit?" she asked, more than mildly confused at this information.
"Yes, the visit was originally to be of a fortnight's duration. We do not tend to linger on our annual visits," the Colonel answered, with a slight smile, "but this stay has been much more tolerable than most. It has been such a pleasant surprise to find lively company in Kent."
"You're all politeness," Elizabeth disclaimed with a slight blush. "I'm sure you and Mr Darcy could have satisfactorily survived without those of us from the parsonage."
"Darcy may have struggled," the Colonel laughed, "but I suppose I'd have endured. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and hardship."
Elizabeth laughed at this. "In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know very little of either."
"Oh, you would mock my depravations?" he grinned, enjoying the repartee. "Still, at least my deprived circumstances are a protection at Rosings. I need not be constantly sidestepping and repelling my aunt's continual hints that I must marry her daughter. Darcy's diplomatic evasiveness usually makes for an interesting spectator sport, though I have to admit entertaining some concern over how Darcy would cope this year -- given his already low spirits. The visit, however, has cheered rather than depressed him."
Elizabeth felt both concern and surprise at such a revelation.
"I am sorry if Mr Darcy has suffered any distress. I hope that matters have righted themselves now."
"Oh, I've misspoken. There is no real strife to talk of. He's simply had a trying year, and is feeling his responsibility to Georgiana more keenly than even is usual. These circumstances, I fear, have encouraged his reserved bent; he's been quite the recluse these past three months. It's a relief to have him behaving as himself once more."
"If he was in need of cheering company, I'm sure Mr Bingley would have welcomed both Mr and Miss Darcy at Netherfield."
"I believe Darcy would have returned to Hertfordshire with his friend, had not the presence of Mr Wickham precluded the possibility of Georgiana also accompanying them. If it did not sit so incongruously with a picture of my dignified cousin, I'd describe him as almost cross with the situation. Thank goodness that Wickham left the regiment before Bingley's wedding. Georgiana would have been so disappointed had she been unable to attend."
"It was lovely to have her company," Elizabeth returned with an apparent calmness, but her mind was in fact spinning with the implications of Colonel Fitzwilliam's inadvertent revelations, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage. They talked on indifferent matters upon joining Charlotte and Maria inside. Then, shut into her own room as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption of all that she had heard.
It had never occurred to her that Mr Darcy's remaining in London might have been anything but personal preference. Understanding that this was not the case, at first produced a perturbed state of mind with thoughts that could rest on nothing. At last she commanded herself so far as to think over her past relationship with Mr Darcy, to see if it might be comprehended in a more positive light. She had been almost sure that he had come to like her during his stay at Netherfield – there had been that of flirtation in his manner, but this had also been coupled with a hesitancy that made her doubt this was anything more than light admiration. Certainly, as she had often reminded herself, his behaviour in Hertfordshire had not been above reproach, but she had nevertheless come to like the man. Although determined that she would not open herself to disappointment, she had felt a hurt upon his early departure, and she reluctantly admitted to herself that a great deal of the passionate resentment that she'd nurtured over Mr Bingley's desertion of Jane, had its seeds in her own disillusioned feelings.
It was at this point that thoughts of Darcy's responsibility to his sister intruded, and she felt uncomfortable, almost mortifyingly self interested, as it occurred to her that she'd considered only what Mr Darcy's actions might mean to herself. 'Til this point she'd never fully appreciated what his responsibilities might be as an only brother, with neither father nor mother. Though never resenting, and even admiring, the nature of Mr Darcy's relationship to Georgiana, Elizabeth had never thought on how much his own needs and desires must appropriately take second place to his sister's.
Such a consideration could not but remind her of Colonel Fitzwilliam's intimations about Mr Wickham. Casting her mind back to what her father had said of Mr Darcy's final visit, she recalled that his sister had been his excuse for his return to London. Still, he'd not left before cautioning about certain of Captain Wickham's proclivities, and for the very first time it occurred to her that she may have been foremost in his mind at this time. Peeved as she had been at Mr Darcy's behaviour at the Netherfield ball, she had implied an unfelt sympathy for Mr Wickham when they'd discussed him during their dance. She could not repress a small stab of pleasure at the idea that it might have given rise to a protective jealousy.
Allowing her mind to move on to the painful Christmas Eve ball, she was now convinced that he had been truly glad to see her. He'd been everything charming when they were together, and she wondered why it had never occurred to her before, that she had been the only woman with whom he'd danced. She remembered too, how he'd noticed as soon as she'd cooled toward him, but rather than retreating he'd immediately addressed the matter. Since he'd exerted himself to apologise and to right the wrongs of his interference she had been embarrassed at the strength of her accusations that night, but now she felt heartily ashamed of them -- even more so as she recalled his faultless behaviour and lack of resentment on Christmas Day, and his solicitous attentions whenever they had met since.
And to all this she had responded with a formal politeness, deliberately trying to hold to the dignified distance of an indifferent acquaintance. She could not help but think that she had acted foolishly. If Mr Darcy truly felt an attachment to her, she had been actively working to discourage him. She may have prided herself on her discernment, and had many times laughed at the generous candour of her sister, but in this matter it seemed that her behaviour, spurred by her distrust, had been blameable. It was humiliating to admit that she had allowed her vanity a higher place than affection.
She sighed at the thought. "Till this moment, I never knew myself."
The initial self censure over though, Elizabeth turned to less emotional and perhaps more rational thoughts. There was still much in Mr Darcy's behaviour that did not make sense. He may have been kept away from Hertfordshire by circumstances, but his manners during the wedding, gentlemanly as he may have been, were not those of one attempting to win for himself special favour. She reminded herself too, of the evidence that he had not been interested enough to inform himself of her movements, remembering his complete surprise on finding her in Kent. These were hardly the actions of a lover. It now seemed to Elizabeth that she had again allowed her vanity to take precedence in suspecting that Mr Darcy might have feelings for her. What other than carelessness could lead him to suppose she was in… she struggled to recall the locality… Warwickshire?
A sudden blush came to her face on remembering the rest of their exchange upon his first discovering her in Kent; she must have been flustered --- dull indeed -- not to catch the implication of his words when he noted that Kingsmill lived in Warwickshire. Surely her acquaintance with the young man could not have so soon caused the suspicion of an understanding between them! She coloured to recall that she'd danced twice with Kingsmill on Christmas Eve, that she'd welcomed him with pleased relief when his visit at Gracechurch Street had crossed that of the Darcys, that even her Uncle had suspected a preference, and that Kingsmill had also been present at the Carlisle townhouse when Mr Darcy had come to collect his sister…
"Oh my!" Elizabeth muttered to herself. "All this time I have been feeling that Mr Darcy should be more guarded in his behaviour, when perhaps I ought to have been more guarded in mine."
More guarded and less guarded, she thought, unable to suppress a small smile at the irony of it all. She wondered that Mr Darcy still seemed to desire her good opinion after her anger at Christmas and her restrained behaviour in Kent. She could not help but recall Charlotte's opinion on relationships; that there were few people who had heart enough to be really in love without encouragement; that in nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels. Perhaps, being still unsure of the exact nature of Mr Darcy's feelings, this was too much to expect of Elizabeth. Still, she had at least determined that it might be better to pay Mr Darcy some attention, when Charlotte knocked on her door to remind her that they were engaged at Rosings for tea that evening.
Posted on Thursday, 15 June 2006
Though by no means able to feel certain of Mr Darcy’s feelings, her new hope lifted her spirits measurably, and she found herself in quite a light-hearted mood as she sat with Charlotte and Maria later that afternoon, ineffectually working on her needlepoint. Their chatter was cheerfully inane to the point where, had Mr Collins been privy to the conversation, he’d have no doubt censured them for empty levity. Elizabeth was therefore surprised as the evening drew closer, that such a nervousness took over her she was almost tempted to evade the meeting at Rosings by claiming a headache. She forced herself, however, to attend to her preparations before joining Maria, Charlotte, and Mr Collins -- the latter of whom was pacing in his anxiety that they arrive at the earliest possible expected time.
“It is good to see you have made an appropriate effort to look your best for Lady Catherine tonight,” Mr Collins offered as she entered the room, “But it still does not do to keep her waiting.”
Elizabeth’s embarrassment that even Mr Collin’s could notice the attention she had given to her appearance was covered by Charlotte’s assurances that they were not late in the least. Allowing Mr Collins to fuss and herd them toward Rosings, they moved to the waiting carriage.
During the short ride Mr Collins prattled on about fitting deferential conduct -- despite this being the third time they had taken tea at Rosings since the arrival of the nephews and there having been no major social disaster on the other two occasions. At least his nonsense kept Elizabeth a little distracted until they alighted the carriage. As they ascended the steps to the hall, however, Elizabeth’s self consciousness was every moment increasing but, making every effort to appear perfectly calm, she forced anxiety from her mind as they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Lady Catherine and her party waited.
Quelling a desire to immediately search out Mr Darcy with her eyes, Elizabeth determinedly attended to Lady Catherine’s condescending welcome. When she finally allowed herself to look in Darcy’s direction, she found his eyes once again steadily regarding her. This time she did not quickly withdraw her own gaze, but sent him a smile. After the requisite polite greetings were exchanged all around, she forewent her usual position for these evenings beside Colonel Fitzwilliam, and walked instead to Mr Darcy.
“We’ve not had the pleasure of your company at the parsonage these past two days. I hope that you have been well.”
Elizabeth’s simple question momentarily silenced Darcy, as he could hardly answer that he’d begun to stay away to avoid the frustration feeling second to his cousin. Indeed, this very night he had steeled himself for another evening acting primarily as spectator to -- rather than participant in -- Elizabeth’s conversation, so her approach had actually taken him a little off guard. His time in Kent had become increasingly trying with Miss Bennet physically in front of him, but progressively appearing emotionally out of reach. Sometimes, particularly upon finding her alone, he’d have the promising experience of encouraging an open and unguarded exchange -- only to discover her protective walls rebuilt by the next meeting. In all honesty, he was beginning to despair of ever regaining the esteem he so earnestly desired from her. Noticing Elizabeth regarding him curiously, he realised he really should reply.
“I am well, thank you,” he answered lamely.
“That is good to hear, Mr Darcy. You were missed,” she answered, almost embarrassed at her own temerity in making so forward a statement after her own deliberately withdrawn behaviour. She felt its inconsistency; but Mr Darcy was so obliging as to put up with it, and seek no farther explanation. Instead he offered her a seat and took the one beside her, surprised, but not too confused by her sudden interest to miss this opportunity to use it to his advantage.
Not wishing to risk an awkward silence, he immediately enquired about her family -- the Bingleys and the Wests -- again commenting on how pleased he was with Georgiana’s increasing intimacy with Mary. Such a judicious choice of topic, however, was unnecessary, as Elizabeth had come determined to be interested in whatever conversation Darcy might offer, and the exchange soon became less self conscious and achieved something more of ease in its flow.
A little more than a quarter of an hour later saw them joined by Maria, who had moved in their direction to lessen the likelihood of receiving any particular notice from Lady Catherine, currently occupied by lecturing her sister in regard to certain parish duties that she deemed to be the responsibility of the rector’s wife. Though Elizabeth thought that she may have read a momentary exasperation in Mr Darcy’s eyes, she was impressed with his manners as he acknowledged Maria and asked how she was enjoying Kent. Maria, however, feeling almost as disconcerted with Mr Darcy’s notice as she felt when Lady Catherine singled her out, only managed a stilted reply, and Elizabeth and Darcy were left to carry on the conversation as before. The addition of a spectator though, brought back an edge of self awareness to their exchange, and both were somehow relieved when Colonel Fitzwilliam also joined the conversation.
Lady Catherine’s need to be centre of attention, and her not at all liking the notice that Mr Darcy had given the young Miss Bennet this evening, soon brought an end to the friendly tête-à-tête, as she called her nephews focus to herself with some instruction regarding their return to London on the day after the morrow.
“I am sure Mr Collins is wrong in thinking that you intend to change horses at Shortlands; I assure you that you would do much better to change at Bromley. -- If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to much better than if you were to change at Shortlands.''
Sensing that his cousin might argue, Elizabeth was amused to see Colonel Fitzwilliam throw Darcy a quelling glance before tactfully and simply thanking his Aunt for her advice.
“I know that it is difficult for you to think on plans to leave, “Lady Catherine ploughed ahead, “but it does not do to leave travel details to chance.”
“I assure you Madam,” Darcy answered. “We are quite organised, so you can rest easy.”
“I fear that your reluctance to leave this year may be taking a toll on you, Darcy. You may feel prepared, but any inclination to change at Shortlands over Bromley seems the product of a distracted mind. I am excessively attentive to all things associated with travel. One cannot be careless about such things.”
Darcy again assured his Aunt that there was no cause for concern, but the comfort of private conversation had been lost, and an awkward silence reigned in the room, which was disturbed by Lady Catherine’s next observation.
“I assure you, I feel it exceedingly, when my nephews leave,'' she declared, ostensibly to Mr Collins, but certainly loud enough to be heard by the whole room. “I believe nobody feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! -- They are excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear colonel tolerably rallies his spirits, as you can see; but Darcy seems to feel leaving most acutely, more I think than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.''
“Who can wonder at Mr Darcy’s reluctance to leave,” Mr Collins immediately responded at a volume every bit equal to that of his patroness. “With such a rose of an Aunt, and her daughter blooming to become every day more like her.”
This compliment and allusion could only be kindly smiled upon by both mother and daughter. Elizabeth, appropriately feeling all the discomfort of such an announcement, scarcely allowed herself a glance at the nephews -- one of whom was looking mortified whilst the other attempted to hide his amusement for the sake of both his cousins. Colonel Fitzwilliam was on the point of changing the subject lest his Aunt should extend the humiliation by commenting further, but he did not speak soon enough.
“How could Anne do other than blossom,” Lady Catherine replied, a look in Elizabeth’s direction making Elizabeth wonder if this was somehow for her benefit, “with noble descent on the maternal side, and an honourable and ancient family on the father’s side.”
Elizabeth’s suspicion was confirmed by the less than subtle question that next came from Lady Catherine’s lips. “Miss Bennet, is there any nobility in your family line?”
Before either of the gentlemen of her own family could begin to deflect such an ill-natured attack, Elizabeth exerted herself to answer the question in a tolerably disengaged tone.
“If there is, your ladyship, it is so diluted that it could not be worth speaking of. As Swift* might put it, my origins are ‘of the lower sort, having been born of plain honest parents’.” (*see footnote)
Such a straight faced reply might have ended the discussion there, had not the Colonel upon straightaway recognising the reference, almost choked on the mouthful of tea he had just taken.
“And pray, what is it that you find so amusing?” his Aunt enquired in a peeved tone, vexed both at Elizabeth’s composed answer, and at the idea that something was going on to which she was not privy.
“Nothing at all, Aunt,” the Colonel answered, doing a very credible job at containing his mirth. “I merely had some tea go down the wrong way.”
Elizabeth though, was cursing her tendency to sometimes speak before thinking. Immediately upon the words leaving her mouth she was aware that her veiled allusion might cast aspersions on not only Lady Catherine, but on her family generally. She was a little relieved by the colonel’s amusement, but still could not quite bring herself to look at Mr Darcy’s expression. In the ensuing pause Maria removed herself to the relative safety of Charlotte’s company beside Anne and Mrs Jennings. The uncomfortable silence in the room, however, did not last long, as Mr Collins called Lady Catherine’s attention to himself with some ‘parish business’ that was nothing short of local gossip, but it happily caught the great lady’s interest.
Elizabeth, however, was not to be spared from her embarrassment. When Colonel Fitzwilliam thought himself safe from his Aunt’s notice, he ventured in lowered tones, “You’re such a fine specimen of a fellow, Darcy, I have to wonder if Miss Bennet might suspect something untoward in your parentage.”
“You are very wrong, Richard. You forget that my father too, was of ‘plain and honest’ birth,” Darcy answered with amused equanimity. “You, on the other hand, can trace nobility in both maternal and paternal lines and, looking at you, I’d not dare question your parentage. “
Despite their good humoured teasing, Elizabeth could still not feel quite comfortable, and it was with slightly heightened colour that she offered a quick apology for the implications of her hasty retort.
“Oh, Miss Bennet, it was a matter of self defence,” the colonel generously offered. “I find myself almost disappointed that it was beyond my aunt’s understanding.”
“After your objections to Pope though, Miss Bennet, I find myself surprised that you’d quote such a reputed misogynist as Swift,” Darcy smiled.
Elizabeth, looking up to catch an amused gleam in his eye, gave a small cheeky smile in return before admitting she actually enjoyed Pope, but it had been fun to argue… “Anyway,” she finished off, “I’d call Swift more a misanthropist than a misogynist. Gulliver’s distaste for his wife and preference for horses seemed more a judgement on the man than the woman. Now that I think of it, both of you seem rather fond of your own horses…”
“Oh no!” the Colonel protested. “Allen may have been right after all. I might take this opportunity to slip away. My Aunt seems to be getting restless again and, despite your implied disdain of nobility, I will play noble part and see if I can spare you any more of her attention this evening.”
Elizabeth thanked him for his chivalry but, having learned from her earlier misspeaking, she discretely forewent any reference to St George and the dragon as the colonel moved off. Still, holding such a picture in her head could not help but bring a sparkle to her eye, and Darcy delighted in this look as she turned her eyes on him.
“Mr Darcy, might I enquire as to what Colonel Fitzwilliam meant by Mr Allen perhaps being right?”
“Mr Allen,” Darcy answered intrepidly, “seemed to think that most men would find you intimidating.”
Elizabeth laughed. “And you, Mr Darcy, do you not also feel an urge to escape me?”
“Miss Bennet,” answered Darcy in a tone with an edge of seriousness that took Elizabeth by surprise, “I truly hope that you do not put me in the class of ‘most men’.”
Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment before quietly replying, “No...; no… that would be impossible.” However, feeling a momentary embarrassment she added, “…but were we not speaking of horses?”
Given the rush of pleasure Darcy had felt upon Elizabeth’s reply, he was too satisfied to complain of her abrupt change of subject.
“We may have been. I believe that you were about to harangue Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself concerning our preference for horses above women,” he replied in a wry tone. “I cannot speak for Richard, but I strongly protest my own innocence of the charge.”
Elizabeth did not quite know how to respond to such an admission, being at a loss to know if he was flirting with her, or speaking only generally. Refusing therefore to address the substance of his comment, she answered almost inanely, “I sometimes suspect that Ben would choose a horse over even his sisters.”
“I’d not worry overly much about that,” Darcy laughed, despite being a little disappointed at her evasiveness. He just wanted for a little more assurance that she might be receptive to an avowal of his affection. “I’m sure he would choose you above most horses, though it might be a close thing when it comes to Perseus.”
“Oh, thank you for such unqualified reassurance!” Elizabeth could not help but laugh, but her reaction again brought the notice of Lady Catherine.
“Darcy! Darcy!” her demanding tones cut across the room. Where she had been tolerably happy for young Miss Bennet to ‘monopolise’ Colonel Fitzwilliam’s attentions during her previous visits, she was less than pleased to see her comfortably entrenched in conversation with the other of her nephews. “You cannot keep Miss Bennet to yourself, for I feel inclined to have some music this evening.”
Elizabeth, still feeling a little outside her depth, did not demur but moved straight away to the instrument, while Lady Catherine directed Darcy to a seat beside Anne. She then talked every bit as much as she had before requesting Elizabeth play, but Darcy heard not one word in ten. Choosing only simple and familiar pieces, Elizabeth played with hardly any thought. Aware that Mr Darcy’s attention was on her, she did not know whether to feel exultant or fearful. Convinced now of his admiration, she could still not feel certain of the strength of his attachment, and the remembrance of his staying away before, again began to play on her insecurities. Given that his time at Rosings was almost at an end, she truly felt all the perversity of her judicious attempts to remain withdrawn from him, for now she would have all the suspense of waiting to see if he would visit at Netherfield.
Given her irritation at Darcy’s seeming preoccupation with Elizabeth Bennet, Lady Catherine called for her carriage earlier than was her wont. Though it peeved her to see Darcy offer his arm to Elizabeth to escort her to the transport, she reassured herself with the knowledge that -- apart from the nephews calling for a few minutes at the parsonage to take leave -- this would be last meeting in Kent. In congratulating herself she forgot, however, their common Hertfordshire connections.
“It was lovely to spend the evening with you,” Darcy whispered to her as they stood near the carriage waiting for Mr Collins to finish expressing his thanks to his patroness for her condescending hospitality.
“I enjoyed our conversation,” Elizabeth replied with a steadiness that she did not truly feel. “Lady Catherine will not be the only one will miss you and your cousin when you leave.” She knew that including Colonel Fitzwilliam in this statement was cowardly, but she was not yet confident enough to completely expose her feelings.
Darcy though, was not disappointed, for such a declaration was more than he could have dared hope for at the beginning of the evening.
“I’ll also wish you a safe journey, as it is possible we’ll not meet again before you depart,” Elizabeth ventured with a boldness that surprised even her. “I hope though, that it will not be too long before we see you in Hertfordshire.”
Before he could answer the bustle of the rest of their party arriving at the carriage put an end to any illusion of privacy, but Darcy’s eyes expressed something of his feelings as he took her hand to assist her into the carriage.
* This comes from a passage in Gulliver’s Travels where Gulliver disclaims any noble blood, and explains to the Houyhnhnms about the English nobility: ”young noblemen are bred from their childhood in idleness and luxury; that, as soon as years will permit, they consume their vigour, and contract odious diseases among lewd females; and when their fortunes are almost ruined, they marry some woman of mean birth, disagreeable person, and unsound constitution (merely for the sake of money), whom they hate and despise. That the productions of such marriages are generally scrofulous, rickety, or deformed children; by which means the family seldom continues above three generations, unless the wife takes care to provide a healthy father, among her neighbours or domestics, in order to improve and continue the breed. That a weak diseased body, a meagre countenance, and sallow complexion, are the true marks of noble blood; and a healthy robust appearance is so disgraceful in a man of quality, that the world concludes his real father to have been a groom or a coachman. The imperfections of his mind run parallel with those of his body, being a composition of spleen, dullness, ignorance, caprice, sensuality, and pride”.
Posted on May 5, 2009
Elizabeth found sleep almost impossible as she turned the day’s events over in her head. The last thirteen hours had seen her move from a conviction that Mr Darcy enjoyed her company but viewed her as little more than a pleasant distraction, to an optimistic suspicion that his admiration might be the stuff of real substance. The hope she’d felt upon the colonel’s inadvertent revelations had allowed her to view Mr Darcy’s attentions in a whole different light. Where previously Elizabeth interpreted his behaviour as careless of her feelings, she could now, ironically, see that he might construe her own manners in Kent as indifferent to his. She sighed at the realisation that her own attempts to protect her heart may have, in fact, done nothing more than work against her own happiness. She could no longer deny what she felt toward Mr Darcy by casting it as merely ‘attraction’, ‘esteem’, or simply ‘infatuation’. No; for the first time she admitted to herself that she was truly and totally in love, and the vulnerability that came with such an admission was extreme.
“Well,” she mumbled to herself wryly, “If his affection stands the test of my often withdrawn behaviour of these past few weeks, at least l will know he’s in earnest.”
Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. It was impossible to think of any thing else, and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She proceeded directly to her favourite walk. The recollection of Mr Darcy's sometimes coming there brought a smile to her face as she remembered that not all their conversations had been restrained by a polite distance. Her sleep deprived state no doubt contributed to the wave of emotion that enveloped her upon such a memory, and she turned instead up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground.
After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park; and feeling a sudden and irrational certainty that she would not know how to act if it was Mr Darcy, she reflexively began to retreat. But the person who advanced was now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. She had turned away, but on hearing herself called in a voice which proved it to be Mr Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also, and holding out a hand, which she instinctively took, he said in a voice that gave the appearance of composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of joining me for a walk?''
Very little was said by either as Elizabeth accepted and they walked on; Elizabeth desperately searching for something safe to say, and Darcy knowing what he wanted to express, but perhaps still lacking complete courage to do so. After a few superficial comments on the weather and the countryside, Darcy, being struck by the absurdity of the situation, realised now was the moment for his resolution to be executed.
“Miss Bennet, may I ask you about something you said last night?” He stopped and turned to look at her directly. “Was it seriously meant when you expressed the hope I would soon visit in Hertfordshire?”
Feeling the discomfiture of such a straight question, Elizabeth struggled to honestly answer. Her eyes looked over his left shoulder she replied.
“It was certainly seriously meant. Not only would Jane and Mr Bingley be thrilled if you came to stay, but all my family would be pleased. My Father always enjoys your conversation and, since you’re willing to indulge his passion for horses, Ben thinks you…”
“No, Elizabeth,” he stopped her, moving a hand up to her face to turn it towards him. “If you answer, let it be for yourself alone. Much as I respect your family, I am asking only you.
Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If you think you could never care for me, say so at once. You must know how ardently I admire and love you, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.''
Elizabeth, feeling all the awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak immediately, though not very fluently; “Mr Darcy, I… personally… I would be saddened … what I am trying to say is, I would be… overwhelmingly disappointed if you did not come to Hertfordshire.”
“You would?” he asked in a soft voice, again moving a hand up to her cheek to turn her face back to his.
This time she managed to hold his eye as she nodded.
“Then, you might grow to love me?”
“No,” she managed in a whisper. “I already do.”
The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he surprised himself almost as much as Elizabeth as he slipped his hand from her cheek to behind her neck and moved in to claim her lips in a gentle, but lingering kiss. Though unprepared, Elizabeth was certainly not unwilling to receive this attention. In unguarded moments she had even dreamed of such a circumstance, but had never suspected a kiss could overwhelm so completely. The bare skin of her neck where he his hand asserted a gentle pressure, tingled delightfully, but this was nothing compared to the sensation created by his thumb gently caressing her jaw line and the heat of his mouth moving on hers, encouraging her own lips to tentatively respond.
“Oh my…” Elizabeth sighed when he eventually released her.
“Oh my, indeed,” Darcy laughed, as he moved back to place another soft kiss upon her lips before taking her hand to continue on their walk.
A shy glimpse up him showed an expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face, and Elizabeth could not but note how well it became him.
“I’m sorry if I was too forward,” he apologised on noting the blush in her cheeks.
“I doubt you’re sorry in the least, Sir,” Elizabeth gave a slight, embarrassed smile. “You look decidedly pleased with yourself.”
Darcy laughed at her perception, “The thing is, I have been longing to do just that for so long now; since you and Mrs Bingley were trapped by the rain at Netherfield, at least. Still, perhaps it would have been more gentlemanly had I asked your permission before taking such a liberty.”
“Well, to be honest, Mr Darcy, I’m glad you did not ask,” Elizabeth replied, a little more of her composure returning, “for despite a desire that you might act just as you did, I may have felt it my responsibility to demur in a maidenly fashion.”
Such a confession could not go unanswered but by another liberty on Darcy’s part, and Elizabeth found herself pulled into his arms for another kiss before a realisation of how exposed to the laneway they were, led Darcy to guide her to a more sheltered pathway further past the grove.
“Mr Darcy…”
“Please, Elizabeth, ‘William’,” Darcy interrupted. “‘Mr Darcy’ is a much too formal form of address; it seems almost coy coming from your lips given their recent occupation.”
“William then…” Elizabeth managed to say, colour again rising to her cheeks. “Oh! I’ve forgotten what I was about to say… of what were we speaking?”
Darcy smiled at her discomposure. “Perhaps we were speaking of when we might marry. If we were not, we certainly should have been.”
Elizabeth, too content with such a comment to quibble, kindly forewent pointing out to him that he had not actually proposed nor had she accepted. Instead she offered, “Two days ago we seemed to be treading on egg shells.” A little bewilderment was evident in her voice. “How did this just happen?”
“If you are asking the question ‘why now?’, my love, I think that might be for you to answer. I’ve known for certain that I wanted to propose to you since the night of 24 December -- from the moment I caught sight of you again at Lady Brentworthington’s ball. Since then I’ve just been waiting for an indication that you might actually accept me.”
Elizabeth coloured at his reference to the ball. “It is not a night that I like to recall. I believe I would wipe from my life if I could; there are certainly some words I would have unsaid.”
“Oh no! Do not wish it,” Darcy replied. “As uncomfortable as our confrontation proved, what did you say of me that I did not deserve? I had already begun to recognise the conceit and the audacity of my interference in Bingley’s affairs, but it took your words to truly open my eyes to myself. To my ‘arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain of the feelings of others’.”
“Oh! Do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of my accusations that evening. Though I truly wanted to continue being angry with you, your generous behaviour made it difficult, if not impossible. Encountering you at Christmas evensong was exceedingly awkward. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due.''
“My object then,'' replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I could consider other’s feelings before my own; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see I had taken your reproofs to heart and was willing to do what I could to mend my fault with Bingley. Indeed, it would have been difficult to justify holding to any self-righteous pride or bitterness after the message preached that night.”
Elizabeth laughed at his disclosure. “Oh, there’s something reassuring in knowing I was not the only one feeling discomforted by that evening’s sermon, but you did better than I, for I truly wanted to nurture my resentment. It was fortunate that you had you sister with you that evening, for her presence kept me civil. Shocking as it is to admit, I was determined to forget you and to live well, but your solicitous attentions, your admission of error, and especially your efforts to make things right for Charles and Jane, proved very unsettling when I was trying so hard to maintain my resolution to dislike you.”
“My actions were hardly all altruistic, Elizabeth. Though telling myself I must act honourably for honour’s sake alone, I am certain that within minutes of seeing you within the church that other, more selfish, wishes again predominated. I like to think I’d have acted rightly even if there were no hope of regaining your esteem, but I will not deny the thought that perhaps I might still be able to win your favour, added force to the other inducements which led me on.”
“I had no idea… you earlier said that I must know that you loved me, but I did not know, I did not think it likely…” Elizabeth looked at the ground as she spoke, feeling the shadow of insecurity left by the emotional uncertainty of the past few months. “I knew that you were not averse to my company when other distractions did not offer; I thought you considered me a friend -- but I could not think that you loved me… If you have felt this way for so long, what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last?”
“I was unsure of what my reception might be. I suspected that you had not yet quite forgiven me, for you gave me no encouragement.”
“I have forgiven you these many months at least, since before I left London… but I was unsure and embarrassed, and I do have my dignity, Sir,” she claimed, a little playfulness returning to her manner. “Would you have preferred I marked my deference for every opinion you expressed, perhaps admired the evenness of your writing, or, alternatively, offered to mend your pens?”
“Oh, forbid any such thing!” he smiled. “But I would have given much for an occasional indication that you might hold me a little higher than a common acquaintance. I have felt rather envious of Richard these past weeks. This is why I said earlier that the question of ‘why now?’ was yours to answer. What made you finally open with me yesterday evening? If it was something that I said or did, I wish I had spoken or done it months ago.”
“It was nothing you said,” Elizabeth admitted with a blush. “It was rather something your cousin said when we came across each other on our walk yesterday. He intimated you had been out of sorts, ‘cross’ I think was his term, at having to stay in London for winter’s end.”
“And such a glowing reference made you like me more?” Darcy asked with a note of confusion in his voice.
“Not exactly,” she answered, casting a slight smile in his direction. “I liked you quite well enough already. It’s only that for the first time it occurred to me that your staying away from Hertfordshire might have been something other than your own preference. Colonel Fitzwilliam indicated that it was impossible to take Georgiana to Netherfield whilst there was a chance of her coming across Mr Wickham.”
“That was certainly the case; there is a history there I will tell you of another time, but I do not wish to speak of it on such a day as this. Still, I did regret that my staying away might make me seem a very indifferent suitor. On finding you here, however, I saw this as a chance to redeem myself, and hoped that my attentions to you might make some amends for my inattentiveness since Christmas.”
“I’m afraid that your renewed attentions only made you appear somewhat capricious,” Elizabeth told him honestly. “I certainly did not allow myself to trust them.”
“I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I have convincingly proved myself rather inept as a lover,” Darcy offered ruefully.
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth smiled. “ Still, you have done fairly well this morning, and I’m sure you will improve with practise.”
“Believe me, my love,” he laughed, but there was a look in his eye that brought a flush to Elizabeth’s cheeks. “I intend to practise a great deal.”
Having walked on without attention to direction, they were pleased to find themselves in a secluded corner of the park. Darcy placed Elizabeth on a garden seat before seating himself beside her. Elizabeth repressed an involuntary shiver as Darcy removed her glove and kissed her hand before entwining his fingers in hers.
“Do you know, William, this is the very place we encountered each other on your first day at Rosings.”
“So it is, Elizabeth. This has always been my favourite walk of the park, but after today it will be infinitely more dear to me.”
The place brought back another memory to Elizabeth.
“William, it is now clear what first kept you from Hertfordshire, but it does little to explain that of distance in your behaviour at Charles and Jane’s wedding, or your staying away since then. Tell me, did you suspect I might have a tendre for Mr Kingsmill?”
“No… I suspected much worse,” Darcy confessed, pressing her hand even tighter. “I thought it likely you had an understanding with the man.”
Elizabeth exclaimed at such an idea.
“I may have been a little unguarded in my attentions to him on the day that you both called at Gracechurch street, but…”
Elizabeth though, was unable to finish, as she found herself roughly silenced by a kiss as Darcy took this opportunity to comprehensively reassure himself she was, in fact, his.
Some minutes later, breathless and light-headed, Elizabeth composed herself enough to again request an explanation for such an incredible belief.
“Not long before we were to leave for the wedding, I suggested to Georgiana that she might like to invite you to visit at Pemberley during the spring. This was when she told me such a visit would be unlikely, as she’d heard you speaking about spending this season in the country with Mr Kingsmill.”
“Yes… I told him I would be visiting here… Oh my...” she paused as it suddenly dawned on her how Mr Darcy would likely have understood Georgiana’s unclear pronouncement.
“I could only think that his mother or sister must have invited you at his instigation, and that if you were willing to accept such an invitation, an announcement must soon be expected. For fear of learning of your engagement, I tried not to speak of you; neither did I read the notice pages in the Times or the Courier again until after I ran across you here.” Darcy shook his head at the memory. “You cannot imagine the mixture of relief and delight I felt on hearing you so casually dismiss any thought of Warwickshire and Kingsmill that day. Still, it has taken a further three weeks to finally resolve matters between us... and I find it’s not due to any of my own efforts or charm, but to my cousin telling you that I was cross.”
“Oh, William,” Elizabeth could not help but laugh. “It is still better than it might have been otherwise. I did not expect to see you until Hertfordshire. Another, at least, two weeks of suspense would have been terrible.”
“I certainly could not have waited that long,” Darcy smiled. “Last night gave me hope, and I knew I could not leave without speaking with you.”
“Well, we can certainly learn from this that we must speak with each other. We have shown ourselves by far too obtuse in matters of the heart, to rely on our intuition; so may I begin by reiterating, Mr Darcy, that I love you.”
Given the delicious warmth felt at such a declaration, Darcy could not find fault with Elizabeth’s temporary lapse into formality, nor even with her suggestion that he might be in any way obtuse; instead he took the time to assure her of his own love, only in actions rather than words.