A splendid, entirely proper pride filled his heart; this remarkable, matchless woman was his wife, his companion, his lover. She was no weak and helpless female, and yet she could be as sweet and yielding as a man could desire; that contradiction, that amalgamation exhilarated him to the quick. He gazed at her with unequivocal admiration for far longer than was discreet, he knew, but he cared not.
Perhaps sensing his gaze, Elizabeth turned her own up the table. She was no less affected than he, was struck as if for the first time by her husband’s unmistakable good looks. He possessed such a striking elegance in his every gesture, in his posture and dress; she could not deny to herself that these charms had come to please her as equally as the superiority of his mind and the goodness of his heart. She smiled across the table and they held one another’s gaze for a not unremarkable moment and shared between them more than could ever be expressed in words.
They turned in concert to their respective dinner companions and shared no more than a passing glance for the remainder of the meal.
When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room after dinner, Mr. Darcy went to where Georgiana and Kitty were serving the tea and coffee. As Kitty handed him his coffee, Mr. Darcy leaned close to her and spoke in a lowered voice. “Kitty, I have not had the opportunity to compliment you. You are looking very pretty this evening. I am not the only one to have observed. Mr. Etheridge has been inquiring about you. Let me forewarn you; he is a very verbose, tiresome fellow. He is not worthy of your notice. Ah, here he comes now eager to impress.” To Kitty’s absolute astonishment Mr. Darcy winked at her, turned, and walked away. She smiled, sat a little straighter and lifted her chin.
Georgiana soon found an opportunity to go to her brother’s side. She passed her hand through his arm. “It is a beautiful evening, Brother. Would you take a small turn outside in the garden with me? I will not keep you long engaged.”
They stepped out onto the terrace, generously lit with torches down into the gardens. People were mingling about; the moon was high and a soft, welcome breeze whispered through the trees.
“Is this what Pemberley was like when our mother lived?”
“Something like this. Of course I was just a boy so I saw it all from outside of the drawing room doors. Our cousins always came to Pemberley in the summer. We would steal out of the nursery and come down into the gardens to see what we could espy. Though Alice was the youngest and smallest she was always the first to be out the door. She proclaimed it was all too much like a storybook to leave to the pleasure of adults alone: the lights, the music, the fine dresses and jewels. It certainly seemed very grand to my young boy’s eyes. Once Alice dared her brothers to march straight into the music room as a very formidable looking woman was singing dramatic arias for what seemed to us all an interminable length of time. Of course we were all dressed for bed and their entrance into the elegant parlour was not looked upon with anything like amusement.”
“Truly?” Georgiana laughed merrily. “Did even cousin Anne join in the mischief?”
“I am afraid she always stayed dutifully behind.”
“It must have been delightful.”
“I certainly remember it happily.”
“Not so long ago I was wont to lament that I never had the privilege of enjoying those days at Pemberley when our mother and father both lived; but I feel I have my full share now.”
Darcy stopped and turned to his sister. She was visibly content; every passing day seemed to reveal more clearly her poise and gentle charm. There was little left of the timid girl she had been but the summer past. “Georgiana, you are happy with my choice? You are pleased to have granted me your blessing when I sought it?”
Georgiana smiled brightly, laughed at her brother’s solemnity. “Oh my dear brother. What blessings Elizabeth has brought to us both; what happiness and companionship; what a great joy it shall be when your first child is born and that particular promise that is an infant’s cry fills Pemberley with a still newer hope. Am I happy with your choice you ask me? I rejoice every day as much for your sake as my own. What joys we let carelessly slip by when we were just the two of us. We are truly no longer the same lonely pair wandering through these great, silent halls with perhaps too much reserve and rectitude.”
“No, indeed we are not,” he replied with a smile. There in the middle of the torch lit garden, surrounded by people, the siblings warmly embraced, filled with gratitude for the profound joy brought into their long quiet lives when Miss Elizabeth Bennet had consented to become a Darcy.
“Let us return inside,” Georgiana said. “You have many people to attend to and I have had my pretty sisterly indulgence.”
The rooms were certainly a tireless flurry of conversation and entertainment. Edward was standing alone, slightly apart from the crowds sipping a whiskey. He was surveying the large gathering of friends and relations and neighbours, thinking his cousin had been entirely correct to assert that he had sacrificed nothing. He had a wife with whom he was violently in love, who by all appearance returned his feelings entirely; his wife’s family, which had been such a source of provocation and dismay, had proven neither more nor less amiable and civilized than scores of others. Mrs. Darcy was a gentleman’s daughter after all, and Edward felt it no small irony that the obscure country gentleman they had all dismissed as beneath them had proven to be a gentleman in possession of just the sort of cutting, sophisticated wit that Edward so admired for its rarity and precision. This evening his cousin and his wife were surrounded by many of the people who could have or in fact had in some manner disparaged their marriage; excepting Lady Catherine, they were nearly all as warm and admiring and sycophantic as if Darcy had married the grandest of ladies. It was bitter to see it so, to at last comprehend that when one has something to offer—as did Darcy, as did he—the world was generally too smart, too ambitious to join in petty, familial disagreements. Gentlemen of their ilk could always impose their will if they but took the trouble to try. It was bitter indeed to comprehend nothing but his own cowardice had prevented him from having had the same opportunity for a full, satisfying domestic life.
He took another sip of whiskey and was about to make his way to the billiards room where some of the gentlemen where happily entertained when he was unexpectedly joined by Elizabeth. From the moment of their first acquaintance at Grosvenor Square they had not been friendly and he was more than a little surprised by her wish to engage him in a private conversation.
“Mrs. Darcy, may I congratulate you on a splendid evening,” he offered in the same tones of correct, indifferent civility that had been their customary intercourse from the first.
“I thank you, but I have not come this way begging for compliments,” she replied with a smile.
“Is my cousin occupied that you might require some service? I am at your disposition,” he replied politely.
“I do wish you to be of service; but not to me, to your wife.”
“Pardon me!” Edward replied haughtily, not comprehending her intention but assuming a great presumption.
“May I implore your discretion when I confess to you that we all have our small trials to bear. Mine needn’t be your wife’s as well,” Elizabeth shared.
“I am afraid I do not understand, Mrs. Darcy.”
“I suspect the Viscountess might appreciate a turn in the garden. The night is lovely and there are times when a room becomes unbearably confining and relief is required.”
Edward raised his brow and turned to look across the room. The Viscountess was seated on a settee with Miss Bingley at her side, a look of utter boredom and pique on her customarily neutral countenance as Miss Bingley conversed with determined assiduousness. “Ah,” he replied, for it was true that since their arrival to Pemberley at every turn Miss Bingley was at either his mother’s or his wife’s side offering obsequious, suffocating attentions. Edward smiled, perplexed by Elizabeth’s consideration towards his wife. Neither he nor she deserved it, to be sure. He had no wish
to stroll under the summer sky with his wife as if they were lovers, but if nothing else, Mrs. Darcy’s consideration deserved equal consideration. “I believe I shall invite my wife to take a turn. The room is a bit confining.”
As they walked out together to the gardens, Lady Richmond came to Elizabeth’s side. “What miracle have you wrought? They have barely spoken a word to each other since London and now they have gone to take a turn together in the garden?”
“I told you that I have my fair share of faults. I could not abide the poor woman enduring Miss Bingley’s fawning attentions for another minute; no one should be made to suffer such a fate. I felt it only right to intervene. It would seem I am a little petty after all, your ladyship.”
“Some pettiness is unavoidable and entirely forgivable,” she remarked dryly. “Let us hope this little fit of pettiness might have some beneficial consequences.”
Edward and his wife stepped out onto the terrace and the Viscount could not deny the fresh evening air was restorative. They walked side by side, with nothing in their gestures or expressions that would indicate to the passing observer that they were anything more than indifferent acquaintances.
“Thank you for saving me from that wretched young lady,” the Viscountess remarked to her husband as they exited onto the terrace.
“It was entirely Mrs. Darcy’s doing. She suspected you required relief.”
“Then I must remember to thank her. Someone ought to make Miss Bingley understand that the surest manner to ruin one’s social ambitions is to be so manifestly pursuing them. I never met such a striver. How did she work her way into this party? She does not seem the sort of young lady your cousin and his wife would befriend.”
“Mrs. Darcy’s sister is married to Miss Bingley’s brother.”
“I had not caught on to the relation. I can’t be troubled with other people’s business. Whatever the cause, I do thank you.”
“Patience!” Edward cried spontaneously. “Perhaps this little good deed can be the start of a friendship?” He was weary already of the daily dissatisfaction of his married life and thought there must be a means of improvement. He could not survive a lifetime in such wretchedness and he thought his cousin correct to aver that with respect and trust between them it could be easier to endure.
“A friendship? Between you and I, Edward? It seems a fanciful notion.”
“Clearly we shall never be passionate lovers—look how this beautiful night is wasted upon us. But we need not be always in enmity. Indeed, I pledge now to always rescue you from the tiresome Miss Bingleys of the world.”
To Edward’s great surprise, the Viscountess laughed with something like warm sincerity. “Well, if you put it in those terms, I am not sure I can do otherwise than accept.”
“Shall we start afresh? I am sure we neither of us are hoping for a life of misery and grief.”
“I am not made for misery. It is certainly worth an effort.”
They said no more and separated immediately upon returning into the parlour, Edward making for the billiards room and the Viscountess joining Mrs. Thorney whose prickly character and unpredictable conversation were, at the moment, ideal to her mood.
The evening ended late and, for most, well. More than one young lady had been made to blush from a pretty compliment received and more than one young man had been rebuffed for not being sufficiently gallant; a kiss had been stolen beneath the bright moon’s light and a heart had felt slighted by a capricious lover; but as the guests made back to their homes and beds all were firm in their expectation for similarly magical nights in future. Pemberley was indeed a place reborn.
As the last guest retired, Elizabeth collapsed cheerfully onto the settee next to Jane. She was equal parts exhausted and elated, for she knew without question the night had been a great success; far more so than the dinner she had held in London upon Lady Richmond’s insistence. For that dinner had been imposed upon her and this had come from her heart. She took Jane’s hand within her own and smiled. “Well, Jane,” she concluded happily. “I suppose I truly am the mistress of Pemberley after all.”
“I suppose you are, Mrs. Darcy,” Jane returned with a gentle smile.
Darcy and Bingley were standing together by the terrace doors finishing a few last sips of wine and enjoying the reviving breeze that came in off the garden paths.
“I say, Darcy, this was a splendid evening. Very fine.”
Darcy looked at his friend and smiled, placed a hand upon his shoulder. “When you have purchased your own property and are master in full you shall be sure to offer such an evening for the neighbourhood in which you reside.”
“I reside at Netherfield and do not contemplate such an entertainment. I am not such an important fellow as you,” he replied teasingly. “Perhaps a very boisterous ball in the autumn to satisfy Kitty and to re-establish my place as her favourite. It shall be a very loud country ball; just the sort you abhor.”
“You will not long be at Netherfield, Bingley.”
Bingley laughed eagerly. “Truly? Where will I be?”
“I have put Mr. Forster to the task of finding you a suitable property. You must become properly settled. Surely you do not wish to remain such an idle, unoccupied fellow now you are married?”
“I suppose not. Where am I to live?” he said jestingly.
“Before you depart for Scarborough next week, we will ride out together to see Briarwood Manor. The house is about the size of Netherfield, and the lands, whilst poorly managed, are fertile and adaptable. The current owner is eager to sell as he has the intention of abandoning England for America as soon as a sale can be arranged. It is but thirty miles from Pemberley, which gives it an added attraction. Mr. Forster assures me it is an excellent property with a fine prospect and the man’s eagerness will be advantageous as a price is negotiated.”
“Darcy!” Bingley cried. “You are not jesting?”
“Would I jest on such a matter?”
“So you have decided?”
“You shall decide for yourself, my friend, but you would hardly repine Hertfordshire and Jane would be happier nearer to Elizabeth.”
“I would do anything for Jane’s happiness.”
“Then it is settled. We will ride out the day after tomorrow.”
“So it would seem.”
“Now Bingley, will you not retire and take Jane with you? I wish to be alone with my wife.”
Bingley turned to Jane and Elizabeth with a jovial smile illuminating his countenance. “I tell you, Jane, Darcy is the most convenient friend a man can have. He makes all my decisions for me; and sometimes, although not always, they are very splendid decisions. Come, my angel, I will tell you all about Darcy’s plans for our future.”
Jane and Bingley departed the drawing room and Elizabeth looked to her husband with eager curiosity. “He exaggerates Elizabeth. I have merely suggested we go to see Briarwood Manor before they depart for Scarborough.”
“Oh, is that all?” she replied happily.
Darcy walked across the room and stood before her, gazed down at her with affection. “I have no interest in that topic at the moment. I am in a very fine mood. Before the torches are extinguished will you not take a walk with me? The night is very beautiful.”
Elizabeth stood, patted his cravat, made as if to smooth down the lapels of his frock coat. “How could I decline the invitation of such a handsome and distinguished gentleman?”
“Shall we, Mrs. Darcy?” he inquired opening his hand to her.
“Indeed we shall, Mr. Darcy,” she replied placing her own within his.
They walked out into the garden and strolled under the bright moon’s light in companionable silence until they came to a bench and sat upon it. Soft lights illuminated some of the windows in the house and in the drawing rooms the servants could be seen efficiently setting the house back into order. Elizabeth rested her head against Darcy’s shoulder and he gathered her hand into his own.
“You must be tired,” Darcy s
aid, reaching over and briefly caressing her growing belly.
“I am. It has been a wonderful evening. Are you pleased, darling? Is Pemberley sufficiently Pemberley again?” she inquired playfully.
Darcy laughed lightly. “Edith has always maintained that a fine house could never be at its best without a proper mistress to make her mark. Alice was wont to mock her when she would make such a declaration, insisting it was just Edith’s manner of boasting how much she had improved Matchem, which was already such a very fine estate when she married Norbury. Now I comprehend her entirely. This evening was as splendid as I recall any evening my mother arranged, but you are very different from her. She was very quiet and restrained; everything about her was equally so. There was never such joy at Pemberley. How do you do it, Eliza? How do you fill every moment with such boundless, inimitable joy?”
“I have always supposed that as God has given us but one life to live, we must live it with integrity and searching always for joy or else we squander His gift.”
Darcy stood, urged Elizabeth to her feet and brought her into his embrace. “I have no need to search for joy, Eliza. My joy is here in my arms.”
Although he was not a man whose happiness overflowed with mirth, his countenance was indeed aglow with unmistakable joy. “As is mine, Fitzwilliam,” she replied warmly.
The servants had begun to extinguish the torches, but the moon was high in the sky and illuminated the garden with a magical silvery light. They did not immediately retire. They wished to linger together in the cool night under the bright moon. Such a beautiful summer night was certainly not wasted upon them.
To Teach the Admiring Multitude Page 42