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Chapter 1
September, 1811
"My dear Mr. Bennet!" cried his wife, as the latter was carefully studying some account books. "I have a letter from my sister Phillips in Hertfordshire. Do you not want to know what she writes?"
"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it," replied he.
"The writes to tell us there is a house available near her. It is called Longbourn, and is owned by a young clergyman named Collins, who recently inherited it on the passing of his father. His clerical duties will keep him in Kent for the foreseeable future, and he is looking for a tenant."
"And how can this affect us," inquired her husband.
"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You know I am thinking of our renting it."
"Ah, then you know of merchants in Hertfordshire who will give me a good price for my cotton?" replied he.
"How can you speak of cotton, when I have not seen my dear mother and sister these thirty years, and my mother is not expected to live through the winter?"
"My dear," replied Mr. Bennet, "you may certainly visit your mother and sister, but I must stay here in London, to try to get a good price for my cargo, and purchase the cargo for the return voyage."
"But my mother so wants to see our dear girls, and my sister has not room enough for us all. Besides, it is only a half day's journey from London, and surely the cargo will not occupy all of your time. Most men in your position would hire someone to deal with such things."
"Most men in my position would remain in Salem in times like these, and risk nothing but their capital," replied Mr. Bennet.
Mr. Bennet was one of the wealthiest merchants in Salem, Massachusetts, though that wealth had been somewhat diminished by the hardships of the embargo and his wife's extravagance. Mrs. Bennet had been the eldest daughter of another prominent Salem family, but unlike the Bennets, the Gardiners had been Loyalists, and at the end of the American War of Independence, with their finances in ruins, they had decided to leave for London. A few days before the ship was to depart, 13 year old Sarah Gardiner had taken ill with a fever. The family had hoped to delay their departure until she recovered, but the captain had refused to refund their passage money, forcing them to leave Sarah in the care of relatives until she recovered. Sarah made a quick recovery, but it was several years before her family was able to arrange for her passage. When Sarah was 17, her family was finally able to secure her passage, but three days before she was to leave, Mr. Bennet had asked for her hand in marriage. Mr. Bennet was a wealthy man, already owning three ships and a fine house, and Sarah knew her family's finances had never recovered from exile. It was most unlikely she would make such a match in London, so she lost no time in accepting.
At the time of their marriage, Mr. Bennet had promised to take her to visit to her family, but when the time came, Mrs. Bennet was pregnant with Jane, and unable to make the voyage. After some years, the Bennets had finally agreed that when their youngest daughter Lydia was ten, the entire family would make the trip. Mr. Bennet was unwilling to risk the health of a child younger than ten on the voyage, and Mrs. Bennet was unwilling to leave her children behind, as she had been left.
Unfortunately, the year Lydia turned ten had also been the year of President Jefferson's embargo, which prohibited all foreign trade. Mr. Bennet had made a couple of voyages, of very dubious legality, in spite of the embargo, but he was unwilling to involve his family in what might prove a risky enterprise. In 1809, the embargo was lifted, but trade with Britain and France was still prohibited. Finally, in May 1810, the remaining restrictions were lifted, and the Bennets again made plans for a voyage, but before they could leave, Mary became ill with a fever, and once again the trip was delayed.
The following winter, new, though less-onerous restrictions were placed on trade with England. American ships could carry exports to England, but they were forbidden to bring English goods back to America. Mr. Bennet reckoned this would destroy any chance of profit in the voyage, but that spring Mrs. Bennet received word that her mother's health was failing, and she begged her husband to let her see her mother again before she died. Most reluctantly, Mr. Bennet had agreed to undertake the voyage. The political situation was deteriorating further, and there was talk of the possibility of war between Britain and America. In the end, however, he had given in. They arrived in London in September, and were to stay the Winter, and return to America in the Spring.
Author's note: I don't pretend to be an expert on either Anglo-American diplomacy during 1811-12 or the transatlantic trade of that period. If something strikes you as inaccurate, please let me know. By way of historical explanation, the American embargo was a response to the French Berlin Decree, and the British Orders in Council, In which Britain and France basically said they would seize the ships of neutral countries which traded with the other.
Chapter 2
It did not take Mr. Bennet long to see the advantages of renting Longbourn. The long absences from his wife which his profession demanded had become more and more welcome with the years, and the thought of spending the entire Winter in immediate proximity to her nerves was more than he could bear. He planned to spend the majority of his time with his family there, but whenever his wife grew particularly tedious, he could always use the excuse of business to escape.
About a week later, Mr. Bennet came into the Gardiner's house, where they were staying, and seeing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with: "I hope your grandmama will like it Lizzy."
"We are not to know whether my mother would like it, for she is to die without seeing it, or her grandchildren" said Mrs. Bennet resentfully.
"But Mama," said Elizabeth, you may go stay with your sister as long as you like, and the rest of us may stay a few days at the inn and see grandmama."
"I will not have my girls staying in an inn!" said Mrs., Bennet.
"I quite agree" said her husband. "You never know what will happen in an inn." Mrs. Bennet made no reply, but merely began scolding her daughter Kitty for coughing. After his wife had finished her soliloquy on coughing, her mother's health, and her poor nerves, Mr. Bennet said "let us return to the subject of Hertfordshire."
"I am sick of Hertfordshire."
"I am sorry to hear that, but why did you not tell me so before? If I had known as much, I would not have rented Longbourn." The astonishment of his wife was just what he wished, and it was above an hour before her joy gave way to the need to re-pack their things for the journey.
Mr. Bennet stayed in Hertfordshire only long enough to see his family settled, pay his respects to his sister in law, and his mother in law, who lived with her, and discover that these two were at least as silly as his wife.
The day after Mr. Bennet returned to London, Mrs. Bennet asked her sister to tell her what she knew of their neighbors. Mrs. Phillips had something to say about upwards of twenty families. After describing many of these, she recollected, "But you are not the only newcomers-- Netherfield Park has just been let by a Mr. Bingley. He is a single young man of large fortune, who comes from the north of England." Mrs. Bennet, who was never one to overlook marriage prospects for her daughters, was much taken with this news, especially when she heard there was to be an assembly ball in a week's time. She now had all the more reason to be glad she had convinced her husband to allow her and the girls to visit the dressmakers while they were in London.
Soon after their arrival in Hertfordshire, the Bennets were introduced to their neighbors, the Lucases. Mrs. Bennet was greatly impressed by Sir William Lucas, who regaled her with tales of his time at the court of St. James. Elizabeth frequently found herself fighting the urge to remind her mother that their father had been injured fighting to separate their country from the very same court of St. James. Elizabeth soon became friendly with Charlotte, the eldest Lucas girl, and she delighted in exploring the English countryside.
Chapter 3
As the Bennets entered the assembly rooms, Elizabeth quickly spotted her new friend, and went to stand with her. They were soon joined by Jane. Charlotte introduced Jane and Lizzy to many of their neighbors, and several of the local gentlemen invited them to dance. Just as the first dance was ending, the party from Netherfield arrived, and a hush fell over the room. Elizabeth watched from across the room as Sir William Lucas enthusiastically greeted the newcomers, and introduced his daughter to them. One of the new gentlemen asked Charlotte to dance, and they joined the set.
After the second dance had finished, Elizabeth and Jane were standing together talking when Sir William Lucas approached them with Charlotte's dance partner. Sir William introduced the gentleman to them as Mr. Bingley, and the latter immediately asked Jane for the next dance.
Though they were newcomers, all the Bennet girls but Mary had no shortage of partners until mid-way through the evening. When the fifth set of dances began, Jane was again on the arm of Mr. Bingley, but Elizabeth was obliged to sit down in want of a partner.
Part way through the dance, Mr. Bingley had excused himself from Jane and approached his friend Darcy to ask him "Why are you not dancing?" Darcy had protested that he knew no one but his friend's sisters. Bingley refused to accept this answer, and gushed about how many beautiful girls were present.
"You are dancing with the only handsome girl here," Darcy replied. "Who is she anyway?" he asked.
Bingley smiled and replied, "You will never guess. Her name is Miss Bennet, and she is American. Her father is a merchant from...." Bingley could not remember the name of the place Miss Bennet had identified. "Well anyway, they are visiting her mother's family for the winter." Darcy was aghast, and shook his head in disapproval, but this was lost on Bingley, who continued, "One of her sisters is sitting over there. Come, let me ask my partner to introduce you."
Darcy turned his head in the direction his friend had pointed. The young woman was attractive and fashionably dressed, but there was nothing remarkable about her. "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I have no intention of dancing with tradesman's daughters from the wilderness." Darcy watched as Bingley returned to Jane. Without meaning to, he again turned to face the younger Miss Bennet. To his surprise, she had left her chair and crossed the room to speak to Miss Lucas. They were both looking in his direction. Miss Lucas looked dismayed, but Miss Bennet was laughing uncontrollably.
Chapter 4
If Mr. Bennet had based his evaluation of the situation solely on the contents of his wife's letter, he would have believed his eldest daughter was on the brink of matrimony. As it was, a letter from his second daughter arrived the same day. Elizabeth reported that Mr. Bingley was very agreeable, and seemed to admire Jane, but that it was much too soon to say more. She also reported that the gentleman's sisters were hopeless snobs, and that his friend was proud, disagreeable, and not terribly friendly towards their country. On a more pleasant note, Elizabeth reported that there were many enjoyable places to walk in the vicinity of Longbourn, and that Mr. Collins, owing to a lack of space in the parsonage, had left a good number of his father's books behind at Longbourn. This last detail caught Mr. Bennet's interest. While he was sure the collection would in no way rival his own library back in Salem, it might at least help distract him from his wife when he returned to Hertfordshire in several weeks time.
Bingley and Jane were spending a good deal of time in each other's company. Neither Darcy nor Bingley's sisters approved, but knowing that Bingley fell easily in and out of love, decided it was best to let matters take their natural course.
Darcy could not seem to get Elizabeth Bennet out of his mind. It seemed clear she had heard what he had said to Bingley at the assembly, though of course that had not been his intent. Most women of his acquaintance would have been horrified, or at least dismayed, by his rejection. Instead, Elizabeth Bennet had laughed at him. Why? Did she simply not know who he was? That had been Darcy's original assumption, but after enough time had passed for her to have learned that he had 10,000 pounds a year, and a fine estate, and that he was the nephew of an earl, she continued to treat him with amusement and disdain. Was she, like some of her countrymen, hostile to him as an Englishman? This too he rejected, for she treated Bingley completely differently. Trying to solve this intriguing mystery, Darcy had watched her and listened to her conversations, but he was no closer to an answer.
One evening at Lucas Lodge, Darcy had been talking to Sir William when Miss Elizabeth had approached them. Sir William had suggested that he dance with her. She had politely refused, and somewhat to his own surprise Darcy found himself gravely begging her to reconsider. Nevertheless, she remained adamant in her refusal, and departed with a smile and an amused gleam in her eye. Darcy stared after her for some moments, confused, intrigued and fascinated.
Some minutes later, Caroline Bingley approached him, and inquired whether he was tired of "these savage Americans" yet.
"Actually," Darcy replied, "I'm fascinated by her."
Caroline started to ask him who he meant, but seeing the direction of his gaze, stifled a gasp. "Pray, tell me," Caroline asked, "when am I to wish you joy?"
Darcy groaned, and replied "I might have known you would say something like that. I merely meant that I have never met anyone like her." He turned and walked away before Caroline could question him further.
Chapter 5
Several days later, Charlotte and Elizabeth took a walk to Oakham Mount. Elizabeth had not yet been there, and had heard from many of her neighbors that it offered one of the best views in the area. While they were walking, Elizabeth inquired of her new friend, "What sort of a man is Mr. Collins?"
Charlotte looked uncomfortable, and replied, "Why do you ask?"
"No particular reason," replied Elizabeth, "I suppose living in his house, sitting on his furniture, reading his books, I am curious what he is like."
Charlotte sighed, and replied, "Being neighbors, we spent a great deal of time together as children. Many in the neighborhood assumed that we would one day marry. Indeed, I must confess I had such thoughts myself, but when Mr. Collins returned from Oxford, he and his father had a disagreement. Mr. Collins was unwilling to remain under his father's roof, so he took orders, and was able to secure the living he now holds in Kent. I did not see him again until his father died last year. We thought with his father's death he would move back here, but his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bough, convinced him he would be wiser to remain in Kent for a time and rent Longbourn out."
"Oh, Miss Lucas," Elizabeth replied with feeling, "were you very much in love with him?"
Charlotte hesitated a moment before answering, "No, I can not claim to have loved him, but it would have been a good match for me. I would have liked to have had such an establishment, and to have been settled so near my parents."
Elizabeth was shocked by this. "How could you think of marrying a man you did not love?" she asked. "If you do not love him, I am glad he is in Kent."
Charlotte looked pained at this. "I have no right to hope for much in marriage. Indeed, at my age it is perhaps unrealistic to hope to marry at all. My portion is a small one, and I know I am rather plain."
Elizabeth wanted to tell her friend she was mad to regret a man she had never even loved, and who obviously did not care for her, but she only replied, "I myself can not imagine marrying unless I was deeply in love. I should rather be an old maid, perhaps helping to look after one of my sisters' children, than find myself married to a man I did not care for.
Sensing that this subject was making her friend uncomfortable, Charlotte said, "Speaking of love, I notice your sister and Mr. Bingley have been spending a good deal of time in each other's company."
Elizabeth smiled for a moment, then frowned. "I believe," she said, "that my sister cares for him a great deal, and I think they would be very happy together, but I confess I should not like to be separated from her by the ocean. I can not imagine what it would be like to part from her, not knowing if I would ever see her again."
"Perhaps there is a solution to that," Charlotte said with a smile.
"Whatever do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.
"Why," replied Charlotte, "I mean that if you should yourself marry and remain in England, you and your sister need not be separated."
Elizabeth laughed at this. "I am an American through and through. There are so many English ideas and customs I find strange, I could not imagine spending the rest of my life here. In any case, I have not met anyone I could think of marrying."
Chapter 6
One evening when the gentlemen were to dine with the officers, Caroline Bingley invited Jane Bennet to join herself and her sister for dinner. She reasoned that the American girl would at least relieve their boredom. Jane had arrived on horseback and soaking wet, and had quickly taken ill. Much to Caroline and Louisa's dismay, they were obliged to put her to bed upstairs.
The next morning, Jane sent word to her family of the circumstances which required her to remain at Netherfield. Elizabeth went on foot to see her sister, and arrived just as the Netherfield party were finishing breakfast. The roads had been muddy, and the hem of her dress was completely coated in mud. She was immediately shown to her sister's room. The apothecary arrived soon afterwards, and while he pronounced Miss Bennet not to be in any danger, he did not recommend she be moved. Elizabeth spent the day with her sister, and when the time came for her to depart, Jane expressed such regret at her departure that Miss Bingley invited Elizabeth to stay. She agreed, and her cloths were sent for.
At 6:30 Elizabeth joined the others for dinner. Mr. Bingley was full of concern for her sister, but the others, she thought, barely concealed their indifference. As soon as dinner was over, Elizabeth returned to Jane. Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her American manners were found to be savage, and her impertinence detestable. She had no conversation, style, taste, or beauty. Mrs. Hurst added, "she has nothing to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked wild. Her dress was six inches deep in mud." Miss Bingley laughed at this, and replied, "I dare say they don't have carriages in America, nor proper streets either, so they must all walk about in the mud or ride horseback."
Bingley, with obvious annoyance, replied, "Miss Elizabeth informed me that Mrs. Bennet required the carriage to call on her mother, who lives in Meryton and is gravely ill. That is why Miss Bennet came on horseback last night, and Miss Elizabeth on foot today. In any case, I thought Miss Elizabeth looked remarkably well this morning. The mud quite escaped my notice.'' "You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley, "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.'' "Certainly not,'' he replied. "I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," she added in a half whisper, "that this adventure has affected your fascination with Miss Elizabeth Bennet" "Not at all," he replied, a strange look in his eyes.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth remained with her sister until late in the evening, when Jane was asleep and it appeared to Elizabeth that politeness dictated that she join the others. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at cards, and was invited to join them. She declined, saying she would amuse herself with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment. "Do you prefer reading to cards?'' he asked, "that is rather singular."
"Perhaps," said Miss Bingley, they do not play cards in America. In any case, I can see that Miss Eliza Bennet is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."
"I am not a great reader," replied Elizabeth, "and I have pleasure in many things."
Elizabeth walked towards the table where a few books were lying. Mr. Bingley offered to fetch her others from the library, but with an amused look, Elizabeth selected one of the books from the table, and returned to her seat. "I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"
"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many generations."
"And you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books."
"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these," Darcy replied, trying to glimpse the title of Elizabeth's book.
At last, she turned slightly, and he was able to see the spine. Elizabeth had selected the copy of Edmund Burke's "Reflections on the Revolution in France" which he himself had been re-reading that afternoon. "A surprising choice." Darcy said, with a nod towards Elizabeth's book.
"Why do you find it surprising?" Elizabeth asked. "Are you surprised that an American would be interested in a book written by a member of your parliament, a parliament which after all, has been no friend to our liberties? Or do you find it surprising that an American would be interested in a book opposed to revolution? Or perhaps," she said, "you find it surprising that a lady would be interested in great questions of politics?" All of this was delivered with such a bewitching smile, that Darcy did not know what to think. In truth, he had found her choice surprising for all of the reasons she cited, particularly the last. Darcy had never met anyone like her, and she was always surprising him in one way or another.
Caroline Bingley did not like to be left out of the conversation, and Elizabeth's mention of parliament had given her an idea. "Your father was a member of parliament, Mr. Darcy, was he not?"
"He was," replied Darcy, with obvious pride.
"Have you ever thought of following in his footsteps?" she asked.
"I have considered it," Darcy replied, "but I would not like to spend so much time in London"
"Really Mr. Darcy, Mr. Howard is an MP, and the Howards are almost never in town. I recollect him saying that as long as he attends parliament at least once a year, no one objects."
"That would rather defeat the purpose, would it not?" Darcy asked, with obvious contempt. Elizabeth looked slightly amused at this.
"When was your father in parliament?" Elizabeth asked.
"He took his seat in 1783, the year before I was born," Darcy replied. "He had to give the seat up several years before he died due to ill health."
"If you were in parliament now, Mr. Darcy," she asked, "would you be supporting the Orders in Council? Would you support your navy's impressment of neutral citizens?"
Darcy was more than a little surprised by these questions. Rather coldly, he replied, "I should think the Orders in Council an understandable response to the Berlin Decree. While I find the practice of impressment distasteful, regardless of whom it targets, we must remember that the only thing standing between Napoleon and the liberties of my country and yours is the Royal Navy.
Elizabeth was about to reply to this when Caroline jumped in, asking, "Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?"
"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."
"How I long to see her again!" continued Miss Bingley. "I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such decorum, such manners (here she gave a rather pointed look at Elizabeth), She plays so beautifully..." Before Caroline could continue, Mr. Hurst drew their attention back to the card game. Elizabeth soon after returned to her sister.
"What does Eliza Bennet mean," Miss Bingley demanded as soon as she was out of the room, "to be arguing about politics, and insulting our country?"
"I believe," said Mr. Bingley, "she merely asked Mr. Darcy his opinion. Her interest in such matters is understandable, considering the effect they have on her family."
"Ah yes," replied Miss Bingley, "I suppose coarseness is to be expected of those whose families are in trade. I suppose we must forgive Miss Eliza, for such behavior is no doubt normal in her country. What say you, Mr. Darcy?"
Darcy, however, had ceased listening to Caroline's diatribe, and was looking towards the book Elizabeth had left on the table with a thoughtful expression on his face.
Chapter 8
The next day Jane was somewhat better. Elizabeth spent most of the day with her, reading to her and talking with her. That evening she once again joined the others in the drawing room. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game. Mr. Darcy was seated at a desk writing, and Miss Bingley was seated nearby, admiring his handwriting and calling off messages to his sister. Mr. Darcy was clearly growing annoyed at this. Elizabeth took up some needlework. She found it hard to hide her amusement at what passed between Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley. Noticing Elizabeth's amusement, Caroline scowled and inquired, "Miss Eliza Bennet, that is an interesting dress you are wearing. I have never seen anything like it. Pray tell me, is it an American creation?" "We do have some fine dressmakers in Salem," Elizabeth replied, "but this dress was ordered from Paris." Miss Bingley frowned at this but said nothing.
Mr. Darcy at last completed his letter, and thereupon applied to Miss Bingley for the indulgence of some music. Caroline started to move towards the piano, but remembering her duties as hostess, asked Elizabeth if she played. Caroline suspected pianos were rather scarce in America, and thought this a perfect opportunity to display the limits of Elizabeth's accomplishments. Elizabeth allowed that she played a little, but not very well, and she asked to be excused from performing. On hearing this, Caroline insisted that Elizabeth play for them, and both Darcy and Bingley joined in the request. At last, Elizabeth acquiesced, and seated herself at the instrument.
For her first selection, Elizabeth chose a Mozart piece from one the music books sitting near the piano. Elizabeth looked up several times while she was playing and noticed Mr. Darcy watching her with a slight smile on his face. With some annoyance, she decided that he must have caught her in a misplayed note, or in some other way found her performance deficient.
When she had finished the Mozart piece, Elizabeth put the music book away, and from memory played and sang Shenandoah. Though she had never been to Virginia, here in England, among relative strangers, Elizabeth found herself identifying with the homesickness in the song, and sang with great feeling. None of the party had ever heard the song before, and Caroline could see that both Darcy and Bingley were affected by it. When Elizabeth had finished, she derisively asked, "So, who is this Shenandoah person? With such a name, I suppose it must be a wild Indian." Elizabeth found herself laughing uncontrollably at this. When she had calmed down, Elizabeth apologized, and explained "The Shenandoah is a river in Virginia. The song was written by someone who had left his home there and gone to the west." Some of the sailors on my father's ships sing it when they are hauling ropes. I suppose it appeals to anyone who is far from their home."
Both Darcy and Caroline were appalled that Elizabeth should sing a sea shanty in the Netherfield drawing room, but Bingley merely said, "It is a very pretty song. Tell me, Miss Bennet, have you ever been to the west? "Not to the wide Missouri, if that is what you mean, but my father owns some land in western New York state, and he took me with him when he went to visit it a few years ago.
"Your reference to the Missouri reminds me," Darcy said, "a year or two ago I recall reading an account of the travels of your explorers Lewis and Clark. I found it very interesting." "Why Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied "I would not have expected you to be interested in an account of the American wilderness." "But then," she added with a laugh, "I suppose your country has claims on our western territory, and you must not ignore any possible sources of intelligence about it."
Eager to change the subject, Bingley asked, "Tell me about your father's property in New York. Did you like it there?" "It is beautiful country," Elizabeth said with a smile. "My father owns over 6,000 acres, but scarcely 2,000 acres of that is leased to farmers. The rest is still forest-- you can walk for miles without seeing any sign of another person." Both Darcy and Bingley were visibly startled by the reference to such a large tract of land. Pemberley itself was only a little larger. Elizabeth decided not to bother enlightening them about how little her father had paid for the land, or how irregularly her father's tenants paid their rent.
Chapter 9
The next morning, Caroline was still fuming. How dare that impertinent Eliza Bennet laugh at her? How was she supposed to know that ridiculous sailors' song was about a river? And Mr. Darcy-- he had also laughed at her, and the evening's conversation had been almost entirely about America. Well, if they were going to talk about America, Caroline decided, she had better be prepared. With that thought, she set off for the library.
Darcy looked up in obvious surprise when Caroline entered the library. His surprise deepened when she failed to engage him in conversation and instead began searching the shelves. Darcy returned to his own book, and had quite forgotten her presence an hour later, when he heard her laugh, and whisper "perfect."
That evening, Jane finally felt well enough to join the others in the drawing room for a few hours. Bingley sat by her and scarcely spoke to anyone else. Elizabeth continued with her needlework, while Caroline and Darcy were both reading. Caroline, however, soon tired of her book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his. She laid her book aside, and tried to engage Darcy in conversation. He, however, supplied only monosyllabic answers, never looking up from his book.
Finally, Caroline turned to Elizabeth, and asked "Miss Eliza Bennet, do I remember correctly that you are from Salem?" Elizabeth replied in the affirmative. "Salem," Miss Bingley continued, with just a hint of a smile, "where have I heard of that before?" When Elizabeth made no reply, Caroline answered her own question, "I know, it was something about some people being tried for witchcraft. I recall reading that the whole town became hysterical about witches." Caroline had achieved her objective. Elizabeth looked uncomfortable, and Darcy looked up. Putting his book aside, Darcy began to suspect the reason Caroline had become suddenly interested in her brother's library that morning.
Elizabeth offered a brief explanation of the events which had griped her native town a century before. Caroline was unwilling to let the subject drop. "Pray tell me, Miss Eliza, were any of your family involved in that?" Elizabeth nodded. "One of my ancestors was accused." Caroline could not believe her good fortune. "So," she asked "members of your family practiced the black arts?" Elizabeth regarded Caroline with disgust. "No. Damaris Bennet and her husband were involved in a dispute with a neighbor. The neighbor accused her. She refused to confess, and was hanged."
Elizabeth noticed that Darcy had been watching her intently throughout her conversation with Caroline. She could not decide if he was merely appalled at the thought of innocent people being hanged for witchcraft, or if he expected her to mount a broom at any moment and start circling the room. In truth, Darcy was admiring her eyes, and absently wondering if witchcraft ran in her family, for he was certainly bewitched.
Chapter 10
When Jane and Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, they discovered that their father had arrived from London the night before. They also discovered that Mr. Collins was expected that evening. He had written the week before of his intention to come to Meryton for a week, to see to some business and collect some possessions from Longbourn, and had mentioned that he would be staying at the inn. Mrs. Bennet had written back to invite him to stay at Longbourn, and he had accepted. Mr. Bennet did not look too pleased with the impending visit. Elizabeth supposed Mr. Collins would probably be in the library sorting through his father's books, thus destroying any chance her father had of escape.
Elizabeth reflected that she herself would likely soon be looking for a place to hide if her sister Mary stayed true to form. The Bennets were Congregationalists, and Mary took her faith very seriously and never missed the opportunity to start a theological debate. When Mrs. Bennet had suggested they attend Sunday services at the local parish church, Mary had been indignant, and had started a lengthy discourse on the sufferings of their ancestors under Charles I, the reasons for their emigration to America, and the likelihood that they were presently rolling over in their graves. With an Anglican clergyman under their roof, there would probably not be a moment's peace. Within an hour of Mr. Collins's arrival, Elizabeth had decided that Charlotte Lucas had nothing to regret, and that she herself never wanted to hear the words 'predestination' or 'elect' again. Mary constantly tried to provoke a theological debate, but Mr. Collins's replies were feeble, and reflected a less than complete understanding of his own church's doctrines. Whenever Mary raised a point with which he was unfamiliar, he changed the subject to the virtues of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
The next day, Lydia and Kitty expressed an interest in walking into Meryton, and Jane and Elizabeth agreed to join them. Her father took Elizabeth aside and informed her that they must take either Mary or Mr. Collins with them, as he could not stand to listen to their debate a moment longer. Elizabeth invited Mary to join them, but she refused, giving Elizabeth no choice but to invite Mr. Collins.
As they were walking through the town, Lydia suddenly shouted, "Denny!" and ran across the street. Elizabeth made a mental note to speak with her father about Lydia's flirtatiousness, which had grown worse since their arrival in England, and about her decided preference for red-coats. Kitty soon joined Lydia on the other side of the street, and Jane and Elizabeth reluctantly followed, with Mr. Collins trailing them. Mr. Denny greeted them cheerfully, and introduced his companion, a Mr. Wickham, who was about to join the regiment. Soon thereafter, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley arrived on horseback, and announced that they had been on their way to Longbourn to inquire after Miss Bennet's health. Suddenly, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham appeared to recognize each other, and were clearly not pleased to see one another. Darcy quickly departed, and Bingley soon followed. What could be the meaning of it? Elizabeth could not imagine, but she was very curious.
Chapter 11
The next evening, the Bennets and Mr. Collins were invited to a supper party at the Deighton's house in Meryton. On hearing that Mr. Collins meant to accept the invitation, Mr. Bennet declined it for his part, but nevertheless encouraged his daughters to go. Mr. Wickham was among the guests present, and while almost every female eye was turned in his direction, he immediately sought out Elizabeth's company. He began their conversation with general comments on the weather, but soon inquired how long Mr. Darcy had been staying at Netherfield, and whether she was well aquatinted with him. Elizabeth replied that Darcy had been staying there about a month, and that she was "as aquatinted with him as I ever wish to be," adding that the gentleman appeared to look down on her because she was American and her father was a merchant. "Where in America are you from," he asked. "Salem, Massachusetts," Elizabeth replied. "I have heard," Wickham said, "that Salem is a very fair place, and if you and your sisters are at all representative of its citizens, I am sure that must be true."
In truth Wickham had never heard of Salem before in his life, but he had heard from several of his fellow officers that Mr. Bennet was wealthy, though none of them could supply exact figures. He expressed an interest in hearing about her father's business. Elizabeth spoke of the many distant ports where her father's ships traded, but much to the gentleman's frustration, said nothing which would allow him to evaluate the size of the family fortune. Eager to hear about his relationship with Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth added "I am glad to see that unlike Mr. Darcy you do not fear the corrupting effect of the talk of trade on your ears."
This produced the desired effect, and Wickham told her that he had known Darcy all his life, his father having been steward to the late Mr. Darcy, who had financed his education, and had intended that he should have a valuable church living. When the living fell vacant shortly after the late Mr. Darcy's death, Wickham explained, Mr. Darcy had given it to another. Wickham allowed that the church was the profession he had always longed for, and that it saddened him that he was unable to pursue it. "Surely," Elizabeth said, "a man of your education and goodness could find some other parish that had need of your services." "I wish it were so, Wickham replied, "but I have not the money to buy a living." "I confess," Elizabeth said, "that I do not completely understand or approve of the way your church operates here. In America, preachers are mostly chosen by their congregations, and no one would think of asking a good man to pay to do the Lord's work." Elizabeth paused for a moment, then added, "Perhaps you should consider going to America. There are many people there who follow the rights of your church, and there is a great shortage of clergymen, particularly in the frontier towns. They can not pay much, of course, but at least you would be doing what you have always wanted.
Not wishing Elizabeth to see how horrified he was by her suggestion, Wickham said, "What truly pains me is that Mr. Darcy disregarded his father's wishes. His father was such a good man." "Why do you suppose he refused you the living?" Elizabeth asked. "I think he was jealous of the regard his father held me in, and it wounded his pride." This caused Elizabeth to remark at length on his infamous pride, and Wickham readily joined in. Some time later, on hearing Mr. Collins mention Lady Catherine, Wickham asked Elizabeth if she was aware that she was Mr. Darcy's aunt, and that he was expected to marry her daughter. Elizabeth was amused at this, but somehow could not manage to feel any real sympathy for Caroline Bingley.
Chapter 12
The next day, Mr. Bingley personally delivered an invitation to a ball to be held at Netherfield the following Tuesday. Mr. Collins had been included in the invitation, and Elizabeth said something polite about it being 'too bad' that he would be unable to join them, since he was returning to Kent on Saturday. To Elizabeth's surprise, he replied that he was sure another clergyman could take over his duties on Sunday, and that he meant to stay another week. Elizabeth's surprise turned to distress when he proceeded to ask her for the first two dances. Not only had Elizabeth expected to dance those dances with Mr. Wickham, but she with alarm began to suspect that Mr. Collins might see in her a prospective mistress for Hunsford parsonage.
When the Bennets arrived at Netherfield, Elizabeth looked around the room for Wickham, only to discover he was not there. Mr. Denny soon approached, and explained his absence, leaving Elizabeth with no very charitable feelings for Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins soon claimed her hand for the first set of dances, and proved a very disagreeable partner. She danced next with an officer, and then approached Charlotte Lucas, and once again assured her that Mr. Collins was not worth regretting. Charlotte, however, looked uncomfortable. Seeing her friend was uncomfortable with the subject, Elizabeth launched into a tirade against Mr. Darcy. She was somewhat annoyed when Charlotte interrupted her, saying "Um, Miss Bennet," and looking to her left. Elizabeth turned to see what had caused Charlotte to interrupt her, and was greatly surprised to see Mr. Darcy standing before her. Her surprise was increased when he asked her for the next dance, and without knowing what she was saying, she accepted him.
They danced for some moments in silence, before Elizabeth made some slight remark on the dance. Mr. Darcy replied, and was silent again. She hinted that it was his turn to say something now. He inquired if there were frequent balls in Salem. She replied that there were. He asked if the same dances were popular there as in England. Elizabeth wondered if he were implying that she was unfamiliar with the steps of the dance-- perhaps he found fault with the way she was dancing now, or thought the mis-steps with Mr. Collins were her doing. "We keep up as best we can," she replied with a touch of hostility.
Darcy decided her home was not a safe topic, and instead inquired if she often walked towards Meryton. She answered in the affirmative, adding, "when you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance." At length, Darcy replied, "Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his making friends--whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain." Just then, Sir William Lucas interrupted them with praise of their dancing and a broad hint of his expectations regarding Jane and Bingley. Mr. Darcy was visibly surprised by the latter comment, and watched the aforementioned pair with a thoughtful expression. When Darcy recovered himself enough to ask of what they had been speaking, Elizabeth replied "I do not think we were speaking at all. We have tried two or three subjects without success."
Remembering her unexpected choice at Netherfield, Darcy asked Elizabeth what she thought of books. To his disappointment, she said she was sure they never read the same, or not with the same feeling. He smiled, and said, "In that case, there can be no want of subject, we may compare our different opinions." Elizabeth said she was unable to talk of books in a ballroom, so Darcy tried yet another topic. "You have been in England about three months now?" he asked. She nodded. "What think you of our country?" he asked. "I must confess," she said, "that there are some things that seem quite strange to me." "Such as?" he asked. "I think it strange," she replied, "and quite unfair, that one man can so readily prevent another from following his chosen profession." "I do not think," Darcy replied, "That this is often the case. It is true that a man will often choose a profession where his family or friends can assist him, but if he is of good character and has the proper education or training for his profession, a man will likely find someone willing to assist him." Elizabeth made no reply to this, and they finished the dance in silence.
The rest of the evening proved a complete embarrassment for Elizabeth. Mr. Collins was almost always by her side. Her only relief from his attentions came when he and Mary loudly debated some point of theology, much to the disgust of the others present. At dinner, Elizabeth overheard her mother loudly informing Lady Lucas of her expectations that Jane would soon be Mrs. Bingley, and that she, Elizabeth, would soon be Mrs. Collins. Unlike her mother, Elizabeth understood that the Lucases had long expected a union between Charlotte and Mr. Collins, and she could see that her mother's comments were mortifying for both Lady Lucas and Charlotte, who was sitting near enough to her mother to hear them. To make matters worse, Lydia stole one of the officers' swords, and when Mr. Bennet intervened, he had some less then polite things to say about both His Majesty's army and his youngest daughter's interest in its officers.
Chapter 13
The next morning, Elizabeth asked both Jane and Mary to stay with her as much as possible, in an effort to forestall a proposal from Mr. Collins. Mrs. Bennet, however, refused to cooperate, and demanded the presence of Jane and Mary upstairs. Mr. Collins quickly laid out his reasons for wishing to marry. (He desired to set a good example for the parish, Lady Catherine wished it, etc.) He then continued, "When I first saw your fair countenance within the walls of my ancestral home, I knew I would not be satisfied until I brought you here as my bride."
Elizabeth politely but firmly informed him that she could not accept his offer. He at first refused to believe her, but when she insisted she was in earnest, he asked her reasons. She explained that as a Congregationalist, she did not think she would make a good wife for an Anglican clergyman. "Why, my dear Eliza," he replied, "that would be no obstacle, for if you married me, you would of course convert to my faith. Elizabeth resisted the temptation to laugh at this, and instead stated, "I am also not sure Lady Catherine would approve of your taking an American wife." Collins stopped to think about this. Had he ever heard her ladyship say anything about America? He didn't think so, but Miss Bennet might be right.... Mrs. Bennet was indignant when she heard her daughter had rejected Mr. Collins, and demanded her husband's intervention. Mr. Bennet instead declared he was glad his daughter had enough sense to reject "that fool." Mr. Collins remembered an errand in Meryton, and disappeared.
The next day brought the announcement of Mr. Collins's engagement to Charlotte Lucas. To the relief of almost everyone at Longbourn, he removed himself from the premises and went to stay with his future in laws. Elizabeth wished she could be happy for Charlotte, but could not shake the conviction that her friend was making a mistake.
Mr. Bingley had gone to town the day after the ball, and the others at Netherfield soon followed him there. About a week later, Jane received a letter from Caroline Bingley announcing that they had no immediate plans to return, and hinting at her brother's fondness for Miss Darcy. Elizabeth at first refused to credit the contents of the letter, but as his absence lengthened, she was forced to admit that Mr. Bingley might never return.
Chapter 14
In the weeks following the departure of the Netherfield party, Mr. Wickham was a frequent guest at Longbourn, and his misfortunes at the hands of Mr. Darcy were a frequent topic of discussion. Mr. Bennet was not entirely comfortable with the increasing intimacy between his favorite daughter and Mr. Wickham. One evening after Mr. Wickham had departed, he asked Elizabeth to come into the library, and expressed to her his reservations about that gentleman. "Papa, I know you do not approve of the fact that he is an officer in the British army," Elizabeth replied, "but you must remember that it was not his chosen profession. If it were not for that horrible Mr. Darcy...."
Here Mr. Bennet interrupted her with a shake of his head. "Lizzy, I will not deny that my bayonet wound aches a bit more when I see that uniform, but that is not my concern. If, as he professes, he wanted to be a clergyman, why did he not try to find some other patron besides Mr. Darcy?" "Because, Papa, he had not the money to buy a living, which is what one must do here. In this unfortunate country, a man can do little without an inheritance." Mr. Bennet shook his head again. "Lizzy, I fear it is not so simple as you believe. Look at Mr. Collins, he had no money to buy a living after he quarreled with his father. He no doubt won his living by fawning on Lady Catherine, an effort of which I believe your friend quite capable. Look at your Uncle Gardiner-- your mother's family had almost nothing when they arrived here, and the compensation the British government promised never materialized. Do you see him complaining about his misfortunes?"
Mr. Bennet regretted that he could not make the most sensible of his daughters see the flaws of her favorite, and decided he would need to take matters into his own hands. The next evening, when the ladies removed after dinner, Mr. Bennet spoke at length about his business, and lamented that he had no son to leave it to. Seeing Mr. Wickham's heightened interest, he added, "Ah well, I'm sure my nephew will manage it well enough." "Your nephew?" Mr. Wickham asked as casually as he could. "Yes," replied Mr. Bennet. "I took my sister's boy on as a partner a few years ago, and when I did I signed papers ensuring that everything will go to him when I am gone. Well, not everything, the girls will have the equivalent of about 500 pounds apiece." Mr. Wickham made no reply to this, and they soon rejoined the ladies. Mr. Bennet was not terribly surprised when Mr. Wickham did not come to dinner again, and instead turned his attentions to a young lady named Mary King who had just inherited 10,000 pounds. He laughed ruefully when he thought of his little falsehood. When he took his sister's fool of a son on as a clerk, he had in fact given orders that the lad not be given work of any real importance.
The day after Mr. Bennet's fateful conversation with Wickham, the Gardiners arrived from London for a few days. On hearing of Jane's disappointment, they invited her to come back to London with them for a visit, and she readily accepted. She wrote to Elizabeth that she had seen Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, but not Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had hoped that her London visit would cure Jane of some of her depression, but from her letters, it did not appear that this had been the case.
Chapter 15
In February 1812, Elizabeth received an invitation from Charlotte Collins to visit her at Hunsford in March. Remembering that her family had originally planned the return voyage for March, she sought her father in the library. She found him sitting at his desk, which was strewn with newspapers. She recognized the previous day's Morning Chronicle, which her father had sent from London, a two month old copy of the Salem Gazette and a month old copy of the National Intelligencer. "What is the news from home?" she asked. He smiled, and pointing to the Salem paper, replied "You may tell your mother that Abigail Stone was married to Samuel Thomas." "Papa, be serious!," Elizabeth replied. Her father sighed. "The papers are full of war talk. The congressmen from the western states seem to have their greedy eyes on Canada. There is also discussion of tightening the embargo." "Do you still plan to return home in March?" Elizabeth asked. Mr. Bennet sighed again. "I do not think so. Your mother does not wish to be parted from your grandmother in her present condition, and as it now stands, it would be illegal for me to bring a cargo back with me." Pointing to the London paper, he added, "There is some talk that our English friends will finally repeal the Orders in Council. If that happens, the embargo will be ended too, and then I could go back with a cargo." Elizabeth explained that she had received an invitation from Charlotte. "Why don't you accept the invitation," her father urged. "Kent is less than a day's journey away, and I could always send for you if there was a change in plan."
Elizabeth accepted her friend's invitation, and in mid-March she, Maria, and Sir William Lucas set off for Kent. Elizabeth found her friend reasonably happy with her lot in life, and extremely adept at avoiding her husband's company. Elizabeth shook her head. She could not imagine voluntarily choosing such a fate. Before the week was out, they were invited to tea at Rosings. Lady Catherine made it quite clear that she thought Elizabeth beneath her notice, and had invited her only because as Mrs. Collins's guest, there was no way to exclude her. Elizabeth naturally resented Lady Catherine's attitude, but in deference to her friend, remained polite. Elizabeth could not bring herself to like Rosings, which she found overly showy, but she did enjoy walking about the grounds of the estate.
Several weeks after Elizabeth's arrival, Mr. Darcy and his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam came to Rosings for a visit. The two gentlemen called at the parsonage, and a few days later Lady Catherine invited the Collinses and their guests to dinner. Dinner was uneventful, but when the gentlemen departed, Lady Catherine began to ask Elizabeth questions about her family, with the clear intent of embarrassing her. Elizabeth had all she could do to keep her temper. When the gentlemen returned, Col. Fitzwilliam took a seat near Elizabeth, and after a moment's hesitation, Darcy joined them.
Seeing her nephews engaged in conversation with Elizabeth, Lady Catherine demanded to know what they were discussing. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, she added, "You know, Fitzwilliam, you must be careful what you discuss in Miss Bennet's presence. She is after all an American, and if there should be a war between our countries, some little fact you repeated to her might prove dangerous to our defense." Col. Fitzwilliam, and even Darcy, looked indignant at this, but Elizabeth merely smiled and said dryly, "I am quite sure that if the American army should ever invade London, it will be of great value to our officers to know that the present production of "The Marriage of Figaro did not meet you nephew's expectations."
Seeking to diffuse the tension which was mounting in the room, Col. Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth that she had agreed to play for them. She immediately went to the piano, and the Colonel followed her, offering to turn the pages. Lady Catherine continued to talk while Elizabeth played. After a time, Darcy got up and joined them at the piano. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth put away the music book and started to play a lively tune. Col. Fitzwilliam looked puzzled at first. The tune was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Suddenly he recognized it, and burst out laughing. Elizabeth smiled broadly, but continued playing. Darcy looked a little miffed to be excluded from their private joke. When she had finished, Elizabeth asked "So, Colonel, how did you come to be acquainted with that tune?" Col. Fitzwilliam smiled, and replied, "There was an older fellow in the first regiment I served in who fought in the Battle of Yorktown as a very young man, and developed a strong distaste for that tune while there. Another of my fellow officers, I'm afraid, used to whistle it on occasion to torment the poor fellow." Elizabeth could not help laughing at this. Darcy, who was still puzzled, finally inquired what the tune was. Elizabeth smiled, and with her voice barely above a whisper sang, "Yankee Doodle went to town a riding on a pony..."
Chapter 16
Elizabeth continued her walks about the Rosings grounds. Much to her annoyance, she often met with Darcy during these rambles, and he generally walked back with her. During one of these walks, Darcy asked her how close she was to her family, and how she would feel about being separated from them. Elizabeth instantly remembered how unhappy she had been at the thought of being separated from Jane by thousands of miles if she had married Bingley. Did Mr. Darcy actually think she would be grateful to him for preventing that separation, and in the process breaking Jane's heart? As calmly as she could, she assured him, that while she was close to her family, especially her elder sister, if the happiness of one of them required that they be separated, they would learn to adjust.
Several days later, Elizabeth was again walking the Rosings grounds when she heard footsteps behind her. Expecting the see Darcy again approaching, she turned around, and was delighted to see Col. Fitzwilliam instead. He joined her in her walk and they talked a good deal. The colonel was interested in her description of Salem, and other places in America which she had visited. He told her that he had briefly served in India some years before, and Elizabeth was fascinated by his descriptions of that place. He apologized for his aunt's behavior during her visit to Rosings. "Relations between our two countries are not the best, but that was no reason for my aunt to speak to you in such a way. She had no call to treat you like an enemy or a spy." Elizabeth assured him that she was not at all upset by Lady Catherine's comments.
The colonel hesitated a moment before continuing, "I wish... that is, if the circumstances between our countries had been different, or were I in a different profession...., but it is useless to think of such things..." Noticing his discomfort, and grasping his meaning, Elizabeth immediately tried to lighten to mood by saying something humorous.
They were already walking back towards the parsonage when the conversation turned to Hertfordshire, and to their mutual acquaintances, the Bingleys. Col. Fitzwilliam said something about Darcy taking very good care of his friend, and Elizabeth asked him what he meant. "Why," Fitzwilliam replied, "he has but recently saved him from a very disadvantageous marriage." "Why should he be the one to judge who his friend should marry?" Elizabeth asked indignantly. "I am not familiar with the particulars of the case," the colonel replied, "but I understand there were some very strong objections against the lady." Elizabeth was about to angrily protest against this, but realized it would be unfair to embarrass the colonel, who had not the slightest idea of her connection with the lady involved. Therefore, she pleaded a headache, and quickly returned to the parsonage.
Elizabeth spent much of the afternoon re-reading Jane's letters, and when the time came to depart for Rosings, she pleaded a headache and remained behind. She was in the middle of one Jane's particularly unhappy letters, when she was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. She thought perhaps it might be Col. Fitzwilliam, come to inquire after her health. Much to her surprise, it was instead Mr. Darcy who was shown into the room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hear that she was better. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. After several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began, "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I love and admire you."
Chapter 17
Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, doubted, colored, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings beyond those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. He felt it would be a degradation to marry a mere merchant's daughter, and found the behavior of her family contemptible. Her American birth would earn the scorn of all his acquaintances, and would make it impossible for him to pursue a parliamentary career. He concluded by saying that in spite of all his efforts, he had been unable to conquer his feelings, and hoped that she would now agree to be his wife. "I believe," Elizabeth replied, "that it is the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. If I could feel gratitude, I would thank you, but I can not. I have never desired your good opinion." Mr. Darcy was greatly surprised and angered at this, and when he questioned her about the reasons for her uncivil refusal, she replied, "You have insulted my family, my country, and myself, and you ask why I am uncivil, why I refuse you?" Elizabeth angrily accused him of separating Bingley and her sister, which he admitted, and of ruining Wickham, which he did not deny. Many harsh words were spoken on both sides before Darcy finally quit the house.
The next morning, Elizabeth again went walking, but was careful to avoid her usual paths, for fear of meeting Mr. Darcy. After walking for some time, she nevertheless did encounter that gentleman, who handed her a letter, and asked her to do him the honor of reading it. As soon as he was gone, she broke open the seal and began to read. He begged her pardon for the liberty he took in writing to her, but felt he must answer the charges she had leveled against him. With regard to Jane, he noted that he had often seen his friend fall in and out of love, and until the night of the Netherfield Ball, did not think his attachment to her to be serious. When Sir William's comments aquatinted him with the expectations of many in Meryton that they would soon marry, he watched the couple intently. He could see that Bingley's attachment to her went beyond anything he had previously witnessed in him. In Miss Bennet, however, he saw no signs of particular regard.
"I will not attempt to deny that I disapproved of your father's profession and of the impropriety shown by your mother, your younger sisters, and even at times, by your father," he wrote, "but knowing as I did that they would be returning to America, this was not my primary concern. I do not wish to pain or insult you in saying this, But relations between our two countries are not good, and though I would by no means wish it, it is quite possible we may at some point find ourselves at war. My aunt's accusations against you last week were of course ridicules in the extreme, but I am afraid her views are shared by many in this country. Had your sister married Bingley, she would, unfortunately have been often exposed to such comments. I do not doubt that you would merely laugh at those who would say such things. I can not help but think, however, that your sister is of a different temperament, and would be deeply hurt by such comments. I feared that separated from all her family and friends, and in a strange country with unfamiliar ways, the hostility of her neighbors would soon make your sister regret her choice. When we returned to town, I spoke of these concerns to my friend. Bingley felt that if your sister truly cared for him, it might have been enough to overcome her pain at the separation from her family, and whatever scorn they might meet with. When I assured him of my conviction that your sister was indifferent, he readily agreed to remain in town."
Darcy went on to explain the circumstances of his relationship with Mr. Wickham, describing in detail all the transactions surrounding his father's estate. Begging her secrecy, he told her of Wickham's attempt to elope with his sister the summer before, and his conviction that Wickham's principal design had been her fortune of 30,000 pounds. He
warned Elizabeth that Wickham might seek to attach her in order to gain access to her family's fortune, and begged her, if she would not trust him, to speak with Col. Fitzwilliam, who knew all of the particulars of his dealings with Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth read all of this with amazement, and not a little shame at her own foolishness. Her own father, whose judgment she generally trusted, had warned her not to trust Mr. Wickham's account, but she had ignored his plea. When Charlotte had suggested the possibility that she might marry and remain in England, Elizabeth had told her she would find it difficult to adjust to life there, yet she had never stopped to consider that the same would apply equally to Jane. Elizabeth had been unhappy at the thought of being separated from her sister, but had never stopped to consider that in marrying Bingley, Jane would have been separated from all her family, and everything that was familiar. If Mr. Darcy had doubted her sister's affection for Bingley, his actions were not only understandable, but compassionate.
Chapter 18
Mr. Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam left the next day, and about a week later, Elizabeth and Maria also ended their visit. Upon her arrival in Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth related to Jane much of what had passed in Kent, being careful, of course, to avoid any mention of Mr. Bingley. A few days later, the sisters returned to Hertfordshire. She found things much as she had left them. Her mother was still paying daily visits to her grandmother, who defying all expectations, still clung to life. Her father was growing tired of her mother's nerves, and of waiting for the repeal of the Orders in Council, which seemed as far away as ever. The only encouraging news was that the regiment, much to Lydia's dismay, was being transferred to Brighton.
A few weeks later, Lydia received an invitation from Col. Forster and his wife to stay with them in Brighton. Lydia gleefully told all her sisters the news. Kitty expressed her outrage that Lydia should be invited when she herself was two years older. Elizabeth said nothing, but quickly sought out her father in his study. As calmly as she could, Elizabeth explained her concerns to her father, and begged him to forbid Lydia to go. "She will be impossible to live with if she does not go," her father replied. "Yes, Papa but...." "Relax Lizzy," he said. "It was just an observation. I did not take a bayonet in the leg thirty years ago in order to see my daughter become a camp follower to the British Army. I never had any intention of letting her go." Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Her father's prediction proved accurate. Lydia and Mrs. Bennet both became impossible.
A week later, Mrs. Bennet's mother died. The Gardiners came from London for the funeral, and stayed for a few days. While they were at Longbourn, Mr. Bennet received a letter from Mr. Collins, who informed him that his wife was expecting their first child. He expressed a desire to return to Longbourn before his wife's confinement, and offered generous terms if Mr. Bennet would be willing to give up the lease by the middle of June. On hearing this, the Gardiners invited the Bennets to stay with them in London until they were ready to depart for America. As Mr. Bennet was now resolved to return to America by the end of July regardless of whether the Orders in Council were repealed, he immediately wrote to Mr. Collins to convey his agreement.
A week after making the move to Gracechurch Street, Mr. Bennet walked into the Gardiner's house grinning from ear to ear. "I have wonderful news!" he announced. "You have seen Mr. Bingley! how wonderful!" his wife declared. Mr. Bennet looked at her with disgust, then turned to look at his oldest daughter with some concern. "No," he said, "I have not seen Mr. Bingley. It is even better news than that." Grabbing Elizabeth's hand, he danced her around the room. She noticed the newspaper under his arm, and grabbed it from him, opening it up. Her father pointed to the relevant column, and she read aloud, "Castlereagh announces Orders in Council revoked." "What does that mean?" asked Lydia, who was still seething at her father's refusal to let her go to Brighton. "It means," Elizabeth replied, hugging her father, "that Papa can buy a cargo for the return voyage, and we can all go home. It also means there will not be a war."
Chapter 19
"How soon do you intend to leave," asked Mrs. Gardiner. "Well, it will take about a week to purchase the cargo, but then we can go," he replied. Mrs. Gardiner smiled at Elizabeth and said, "I am sorry you will not have the chance to see Derbyshire, but I am sure you are happy to be going home." Several weeks before, the Gardiners had invited Elizabeth to join them on their trip, and Jane had agreed to watch the Gardiner children. They had planned to depart in three days time. Mr. Bennet smiled at his daughter, and said, "Lizzy, why don't you go ahead and take your trip. We can leave as soon as you return. A few weeks more will not make much difference." Elizabeth was reluctant to delay their departure, but when Mrs. Bennet insisted she had just unpacked, and could not bear to pack everything up again so soon, she agreed.
It was not until late that evening that Elizabeth found the time to read the article on the repeal in detail. In analyzing the causes of the repeal, the article emphasized the influence of Henry Brougham and Alexander Baring, two long-standing opponents of the Orders. In the last paragraph, there was a brief reference to Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire, who had convinced several of his late father's friends in the government that failure to repeal the Orders might lead to war, and that England could not afford a war with America while fighting alone against Napoleon. Elizabeth was, to say the least, surprised at this. She did not doubt for an instant that he had done what he thought to be in the best interest of his country, but she could not help but feel gratitude, and she was proud of him for not allowing any bitterness he might feel towards herself from influencing his actions.
Elizabeth and the Gardiners departed two days later. Knowing she would soon return home and was not likely to return to England, Elizabeth was eager to see as much of the country as she could. They visited many fine houses and historic sites on their way northward, eventually arriving at the little town of Lambton, where Mrs. Gardiner had passed much of her youth. On their second day in that place, Mrs. Gardiner suggested they visit Pemberley. Elizabeth felt it would be highly improper, but on learning that the family were absent for the summer, she gave in to her curiosity and agreed to go.
As the house came into view, Elizabeth could not help but admire its beauty, and that of the surrounding grounds. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They applied to see the inside of the house, and were escorted through it by the housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. Mr. Gardiner inquired if her master were absent, and Elizabeth was greatly alarmed to hear that he would be arriving the following day.
Elizabeth admired the elegance of the furnishings and the magnificent view of the lake, while the housekeeper spoke of her master in the warmest terms imaginable. She asserted that she had never had a cross word from him in her life, and that she had known him since he was four years old. She went so far as to say that he was the best master and landlord that ever lived. Elizabeth was greatly surprised at this, for she had been sure that he was not a good tempered man.
On being shown the library, Elizabeth admired the extensive collection, but her eye was caught by a volume sitting out on a low table. Opening the cover, she discovered it to be a collection of Burke's essays on American affairs, most of them from 1775-77. Looking more closely, she noted an inscription had been written on the bottom of the page. It was dated February, 1784, and read: "To George Darcy, in the hopes that the next generation may do better. Edm. Burke."
Having finished their tour of the house, Elizabeth and the Gardiners went outside where they met the gardener, who was to show them the grounds. Mr. Gardiner was trying to guess the date of the house, when its owner suddenly appeared.
author's note: Brougham and Baring are historic figures, and were the leading opponents of the Orders in Council in Parliament. Baring, incidentally, had an American wife. I don't know if a collection of Burke's essays on American affairs had been published by 1784 or not, that was just a guess. Burke's inscription to George Darcy (which I made up) can be understood on several levels. The year before, in 1783, Britain had accepted American independence, something Burke believed could have been prevented had British statesmen behaved more reasonably. At that time, Burke was investigating abuses by the East India Company, and greatly feared that unless something was done soon, India would go the way of America. So on one level, the inscription is a plea to a young parliamentary colleague for support. On another level, as George Darcy's son Fitzwilliam had just been born, the reference to the next generation can also be seen as referring to him.
Chapter 20
Though neither would admit it to the other, both Darcy and Bingley had spent the preceding months eagerly looking at the shipping news in each day's newspaper, each day expecting to see notice that Mr. Bennet's ship had departed for America, each day finding that it had not. Darcy knew he had done the right thing in convincing several of his father's friends to support the repeal of the Orders in Council, but he also knew that with the repeal, Mr. Bennet and his family would surely be returning home, and that he would never see Elizabeth again. He had not seen her since that fateful day at Rosings, when he had given her his letter. As long as she remained in England, he could fantasize that he might meet her by chance on some London street, and be able to tell her how sorry he was for the things he had said... But he knew that was not to be. In the hopes that it would help him to forget her, he had decided to go to Pemberley, and had invited Bingley and his sisters to join him. Shortly before he was scheduled to leave, he received a letter from his steward about an urgent matter, and rode ahead of his party.
Darcy had ridden hard, and was eager to settle matters with his steward so that he could get some rest. As he approached the house, he was stunned to see Elizabeth Bennet standing before him. For a moment, he was incapable of saying or doing anything. He then greeted her, and advanced towards her, asking after her health and that of her family. Rather awkwardly, she replied that she and her parents and sisters were in health. "How long have you been in this part of the country?" he asked. "Two days," she replied. "And where are you staying?" "at the inn at Lambton." "And your family are in health?" "Yes." "How long to you intend to stay in Lambton?" "five or six days. Then we must return to London." "And how long does your family intend to remain in this country?" "About a fortnight." Darcy tried, and failed, to think of something else to say. Seeing his steward patiently waiting for him, he excused himself.
When he had gone, Elizabeth's first thought was to flee the place, but she could not think how to justify an immediate departure to her aunt and uncle. She could hardly tell them the truth. Reluctantly, therefore, she agreed to continue the tour of the grounds.
Darcy sat in his office, trying to listen to his steward explain the problem which had developed with one of the Pemberley tenants. All he could think was that the woman he loved was there at Pemberley, and that in two weeks she would leave England, and he would never see her again. "Mr. Darcy, perhaps you would like to rest from your journey, before we discuss this further?" "Hm?" Darcy asked absently. "Yes, perhaps you are right." He walked outside, and spotting one of the gardeners, asked which way the visitors had gone.
He met them again by the river, and asked Elizabeth to introduce him to her companions. This she did, and when Darcy discovered that Mrs. Gardiner had formerly lived in Lambton, he opened a discussion of that place. Noticing that Mr. Gardiner's interest had been caught by a fish in the river, Darcy asked him if he was fond of fishing, and invited him to fish at Pemberley while he was in the area.
As they walked back, Elizabeth assured him they would not have intruded, if they had known he would be there. He explained the reasons for his unexpected arrival, and mentioned that his sister and the Bingleys would be arriving the next day. Rather hesitantly, he asked if he might introduce his sister to her, and she readily agreed. Elizabeth told him that she had read of his efforts to secure the repeal of the Orders in Council, and told him that her family, and others like them were grateful. "I only did what I thought was in my country's best interest," he replied, "but if it makes matters easier for our American friends, I am glad of it."
Elizabeth lay awake for some time that night. Her mind was too full of questions for sleep to be possible. Was Mr. Darcy really as kind and amiable as his housekeeper had implied, and as he had seemed that afternoon? Was it possible that in spite of everything, he still loved her? But how would she ever know? In two weeks she would be sailing home, and would never see him again. It was too much to expect that in such a short time......
Chapter 21
The next morning, Mr. and Miss Darcy and Mr. Bingley arrived at the inn. Contrary to what Mr. Wickham had suggested, Miss Darcy was very pleasant, though extremely shy. Elizabeth thought Mr. Bingley seemed happy to see her, though he looked pained when she told him her family would be leaving for America so soon. Mr. Darcy was just as kind and amiable as he had been the previous day. He and his sister invited her and the Gardiners to dine at Pemberley in two days time, and she happily accepted. Mr. Darcy renewed his invitation to Mr. Gardiner to come and fish, and they agreed that he would do so the following morning.
Elizabeth again found sleep eluding her that night. She wondered if Mr. Darcy might renew his addresses to her, and if he were to do so, how she would respond. Was it possible she could love him, and if she did, could she bear to part with her family forever? She wished they were not to sail for home so soon. If only there were more time.
The next morning, Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth decided to return Miss Darcy's civility by calling on her at Pemberley. They were shown into a saloon whose windows had a beautiful view of the surrounding woods. Miss Darcy greeted them warmly, and introduced her companion, Mrs. Annesley. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley greeted them somewhat less warmly. "I was so very surprised, Miss Eliza," said the latter, "to hear you were still in the country. We had thought you would have returned to America long ago." "We had originally intended to leave in March," Elizabeth replied, "but for a variety of reasons extended our stay." "When do you now intend to go?" Miss Bingley asked a little too eagerly. "In about two weeks," Elizabeth replied. "Well, I am sure you are eager to return to your home," Miss Bingley said, smiling in relief. She made no further effort to converse with Elizabeth or Mrs. Gardiner, and as Miss Darcy was too shy to say much, most of the conversation was carried on by Mrs. Annesley, Mrs. Gardiner, and Elizabeth.
When the gentlemen returned from fishing, Georgiana asked Elizabeth if she would play for them. Elizabeth agreed, and Georgiana helped her to select the music, encouraging her to choose one of Mr. Darcy's favorite pieces. Elizabeth played the rather difficult selection with skill, but she found it rather hard to concentrate. She knew that Mr. Darcy's eyes were upon her, and she feared that if she looked up even for a minute, she would lose her concentration.
When Elizabeth had finished, she invited Miss Darcy to take her turn at the instrument. The latter was hesitant, but with Elizabeth's encouragement she began a simple piece. Elizabeth was moving to sit down when Miss Bingley inquired if her family were still in Hertfordshire. "No, they are in London," she replied. "Mr. and Mrs. Collins are now at Longbourn," she added. "It must have been hard for you to leave," Miss Bingley suggested. "We liked Hertfordshire well enough, but we also like London," Elizabeth replied. "I would imagine you were sorry to lose the company of a particular gentleman," Miss Bingley suggested. "I can not think who you mean," Elizabeth replied. "I was speaking of Mr. Wickham," she answered. Miss Darcy immediately ceased playing, and her brother looked at her with alarm. Elizabeth returned to the piano, and apologized to Miss Darcy for neglecting to turn the pages. Miss Darcy managed with some difficulty to resume playing. Elizabeth looked up to see Mr. Darcy looking at her with a such a look of love, that it almost took her breath away. She smiled, her face conveying much the same sentiment.
Darcy arose early the next morning, and in excellent spirits. He thought back over the past three days-- it seemed to him that Elizabeth's opinion of him had been steadily rising. Judging by her response to Caroline's comment, she no longer believed Wickham's accusations. The differences between their countries appeared to be at an end. Then there was that look she had given him while Georgiana was playing-- Darcy wondered if he should dare to hope.... He sighed. He didn't have a lot of time. She and her aunt and uncle would soon return to London. In less than a fortnight, she would sail for America, and he would never see her again. Could he ask for her hand again? Did he dare ask her before she left Lambton? Should he follow her to London and ask her there? Darcy was still pondering these questions when he entered the breakfast room. A newspaper, fresh from London, was waiting for him at the table. As he started eating, Darcy leafed absently through the paper. Suddenly, a particular column arrested him. He dropped his fork with a clatter, rose from the table, and ordered his horse saddled immediately.