by Jennifer Joy
Jane read her mind. "Nothing except Father.”
It would take more than Mother's insistence for him to agree to the scheme. For years, she had tried to persuade him to go, but he had refused. He preferred the peace and quiet his study afforded him.
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms. "We must convince Father. Let us gather our best arguments together, and we will present them after dinner when he is most affable."
Jane nodded.
Filled with excitement and anticipation, Elizabeth tried to occupy herself in tasks which allowed her to plan while the rain kept her indoors. No task could occupy her mind so much as to prevent daydreams. Beautiful gowns fluttered around an ample ballroom lit by thousands of candles adorning crystal chandeliers. Handsome gentlemen with excellent conversation lined up before her… No, she rejected the thought as soon as it appeared in her mind. She did not need a legion of admirers. She only needed one. One gentleman who would stir her blood at a glance, challenge her wit with his intelligence, and share in her laughter.
Elizabeth tapped on Father's study door, entering before he answered.
"I knew it was you, Lizzy. You are the only one of my girls who seeks me out in my lair." He looked around his sanctuary. Books lined floor-to-ceiling shelves, a pile of papers and tomes teetered on top of his large, worn desk. There was a stain on the oak where an inkwell had spilled and Father had not cleaned it in time. No books had been damaged in the process, and that was all that had mattered.
She sat in the chair facing his desk.
"How was your trip to Meryton? Are Aunt and Uncle Phillips well?" she asked politely.
Father chuckled. "I know what you are after, so I will satisfy your curiosity. My trip to see your uncle was necessary and satisfactory. He will handle all the business of acquiring your mother's winnings."
“Have you spoken to Mother?”
"I have, and she wants nothing more than to move our family to London," he said with a scowl, lacing his fingers together and sitting back in his chair.
Elizabeth's heart leaped in her chest. "You have an objection to London?" she asked as calmly as she could.
"How am I to have any peace in such a busy place?" He leaned his head against the back of his leather chair.
Prepared for such an answer, Elizabeth said, "It is true, but think of the opportunities we will have to meet more gentlemen. The Season is only a few months away. Imagine if we were all to make good matches. You would be left to your leisure without the burden of five unmarried daughters to disturb you. Mother's nerves would be much settled, and you would be free to pursue what pleases you most."
Father took off his spectacles and tapped them against his chin. “Some of the best libraries in the country are in London.”
Elizabeth continued, "And consider this, Papa. You would be able to pass your time as most gentlemen do— in a gentleman's club with a far larger library than you have here. I suppose there are some gentlemen who, preferring the guaranteed tranquility of their club, even take their meals there." She stopped, letting her words sink in.
The tapping ceased and Father sat forward. "You have some valid arguments." He looked around his room, measuring it.
Elizabeth silently watched him, afraid to misspeak and ruin the progress she had made.
Slowly, he nodded his head, and his eyes cleared to focus on her. "Yes, some very good arguments indeed. I will think on it and discuss the matter with your uncle Phillips. Perhaps I shall write to your uncle Gardiner as well. Maybe he would be so kind as to introduce me into his club."
Elizabeth smiled at her success. She would get Jane to London where she would see Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth would be able to meet more people and widen her acquaintances in the hopes of finding a gentleman with whom she would be honored to spend every day. Mother would finally have her wish to go to town realized. As for the rest of her sisters, surely the exposure to more genteel ladies of their age would have a good effect if properly kept in check. She would suggest that they get a chaperone to ensure so.
She left Father's study. Jane waited just outside the door.
Holding both of Jane's hands in her own, she smiled and said, "We are going to London!"
Chapter 6
A month passed, during which trunks were packed and then unpacked again. Now that they were in possession of a tidy fortune, Mother insisted that they buy everything new on arriving to town: gowns, bonnets, slippers, carpets, furniture and all manner of worldly goods.
The post had arrived earlier that day. In it had been a letter for Jane. Elizabeth cupped her hand around the candle she took upstairs to find Jane sitting alone in the dark.
Elizabeth sat on the bed she and her sister shared. They would have their own rooms soon.
"What does Miss Bingley write? Does she make any mention of her brother?” asked Elizabeth, hopeful that the letter contained some good news, although her sister’s slumped posture contradicted the possibility.
"She only mentions him in relation to how well suited he is to Miss Darcy, whom she praises highly. She made no remark of our coming to town other than that she would pay us a call when she had the time and was near our address. But, Lizzy, did not Uncle Gardiner secure us a home quite near the Bingleys' residence?"
“Our new home is closer to them than Longbourn is to Netherfield Park.” Elizabeth wanted to grab the odious letter from Jane's hand and hold it over the flame of the candle.
“Why would Miss Bingley imply that we were too far out of her way?” sweet Jane asked.
“She only means to discourage you. You must not believe what she writes, Jane. Proof of my point is her implication that Miss Darcy is Mr. Bingley’s intended. You saw for yourself how pompous Mr. Darcy is. Can you imagine a man of Mr. Darcy's proud nature encouraging an attachment between his sister and a man with connections in trade?"
"But he and Mr. Bingley are close friends," said Jane, still staring into her lap where the letter lay.
Elizabeth had pondered Mr. Darcy’s friendship with Mr. Bingley, but she was not about to yield in her reasoning. "It is one thing for them to be friends and quite another for Mr. Darcy to allow his sister to marry a man he would consider beneath him. I do not believe a word of it, and I hope that you will not let Miss Bingley make you think that you are in any way inferior to Miss Darcy." She took the letter away from Jane and, resisting the urge to shred it into tiny bits, she folded and set it on top of a fashion magazine they had bought in anticipation of the new gowns they would have made.
A delightful thought made Elizabeth giggle.
Jane looked at her questioningly.
"I apologize, Jane, but I cannot help but imagine Mr. Darcy's reaction when we arrive to London in high style. I daresay he will not be impressed in the least, and once he finds out the source of our change in fortune, he will surely disapprove.”
“After what you said to him at the Netherfield Ball, I doubt he would seek our friendship,” chided Jane, who never said anything disagreeable about anybody.
Elizabeth laughed. “At least I will never have to refuse a proposal from him! In that manner, I do believe he resembles Mr. Collins.”
Jane gasped. “Lizzy, how can you possibly compare the two men?”
“I cannot help but think that he is the sort of gentleman who would propose to a young lady in complete confidence of an acceptance due to his superior standing in society and wealth. He would assume that no reasonable lady could possibly refuse him! Yes, the resemblance is striking now that I think on it." How would a man such as Mr. Darcy propose? She could not imagine him being romantic. He was the sort to marry a beautiful young lady with high connections, too many accomplishments to name without pausing for breath, and impeccable manners. Add a functional brain, and she would be a fierce thing to behold… if such a lady existed.
"For a gentleman that you say you despise—" began Jane.
"How can I forgive him when he insulted my vanity and did not deny his contemptible treatmen
t of Mr. Wickham?" interrupted Elizabeth.
Jane pursed her lips. "You do give abnormal consideration to Mr. Darcy— for his being a man whom you claim to dislike…"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Jane. "Then let us speak of him no more. Mr. Darcy is unworthy of our conversation, and I resolve not to mention his name anymore. Were we in the same room as Mr. Darcy, I would not even give him a nod nor make a comment about the weather."
"Hmm. You would be as rude to him as you claim him to have been to you at the Meryton Assembly? Would that not make you equals in your abominable behavior toward each other?"
Elizabeth laughed. "You are right! He would take my imitation of his poor qualities as a compliment, and I would soon find myself at the disadvantage of being in his favor." She shook her head violently. "No, that would never do."
Jane joined in her laughter until sadness overtook her once again. Elizabeth endeavored to feel content that she had helped Jane forget her hurt for a short time.
"I will miss this place, Lizzy."
"Me too— in my own way." To be truthful, Elizabeth counted the days until their departure.
"What if our life in London is not what we hope? What if Mr. Bingley never calls?" Jane's eyes glistened with tears.
"We shall make the best of it as we always do." Failure was not an option.
Elizabeth blew out the candle for the last night they would spend in their bedroom at Longbourn.
Darcy did not feel like receiving company. However, he could not avoid Miss Sophia Kingsley. She was practically a sister to him, and she was a refined influence on Georgiana, who benefited from her female companionship.
Pasting a smile to his face and suppressing a groan, he descended the stairs and entered the drawing room where Sophia and Georgiana sat on opposite sides of a small table near the fireplace. A pot of steaming tea between them added to the warmth and comfort of the scene. Perhaps her visit would be a welcome respite.
“Good afternoon, Darcy,” greeted Sophia in her familiar way.
“Good afternoon, Sophia. It always brings Georgie pleasure to see you.”
Sophia laughed. “What a thing to say! You ought to stay in London more, so that I might assist you in the improvement of your social proficiency and genteel conversation. If I did not know you better, I might be offended.”
“After ten years living at Pemberley, I should hope that you understand enough about me to know that I do not take kindly to people who offend easily and would rather not converse with them at all.”
Leaning toward Georgiana, Sophia said, “And this is the example he gives you before your coming out? You are fortunate that I am your friend lest you imitate your brother’s taciturn manners and offend your peers before you have a chance to make an excellent match.”
Georgiana’s eyes danced mischievously. “My brother is like a dog who barks to scare away strangers… but he never bites,” she added after a pause.
“You would compare me to a mongrel? Now it is I who ought to be offended.” Darcy nudged her in the arm, trying to appear cross.
Georgiana laughed and Darcy had no option but to join her.
“It is good to see you laugh, William. You have been in a dark mood this past month.”
Sophia added, “I, too, have noticed it.” Lowering her voice, she said, “At first, I blamed it on his extensive association with the Bingleys. Not Mr. Bingley, of course. He is a congenial gentleman if I ever met one, his unfortunate connection to trade aside. His sisters, on the other hand, are enough to put the merriest person in an ill humor.”
Darcy could not disagree with that, except on one point. “Times are changing, Sophia. Bingley’s association with trade must not be counted against him. His actions and manners are more gentlemanly than the majority of men born into the privilege.”
“Very well. I concede to your opinion. However, it has been a month since you departed company with the Bingleys, and your surliness is growing tiresome. Georgiana— I feel free to speak for her on the basis of our shared concern— and I object to your continued irritable state and beg an explanation.”
Both females looked at him inquisitively. He felt like a criminal sitting before a jury at court.
Darcy was not about to tell them how the image of a woman who by now must be another man’s wife had interrupted his sleep and heightened his sense of injustice. Marriages of convenience repulsed him even more than they had before meeting Miss Elizabeth.
The longer he took to think of an answer, the more intensely they looked at him.
“I apologize if my manners have been lacking. I will strive to act in a more pleasant fashion to lessen your concern.”
They still looked at him, unsatisfied. Uncomfortable, he stretched out his legs and crossed his feet. That was no better. He crossed his feet in the opposite direction before planting them solidly under his knees again. Sophia and Georgie lifted their eyebrows in unison, still scrutinizing him.
“You appear uncomfortable, Darcy. You look like Gordon when he must explain his latest infatuation to his mother,” Sophia probed.
Darcy controlled his complexion, but the tips of his ears burned. Maybe she would not notice.
In an excited voice, Georgiana said, “That is it! See how his ears turn a brilliant red?”
Grimacing, Darcy said, “I am not infatuated. Superficial emotions are Gordon’s specialty, but they are not mine.”
Sophia raised her chin to the side. “True. Only the deepest regard would be capable of affecting you.” She propped her finger against her uplifted chin. “You have avoided Miss Bingley’s attempts to sink her claws into you for years, so I have to wonder who has cast her spell over you? Someone in Hertfordshire?” she persisted.
Darcy had learned long ago that the best way to satisfy Sophia’s curiosity was to give her a portion of the truth— just enough to answer her inquiry. Nothing more.
“I did meet a remarkable family,” he admitted.
“Remarkable? We are intrigued,” said Sophia, with a glance at Georgiana, who hung on his every word.
“Not remarkable in the way in which you imagine. They are the most outspoken, ill-mannered gentry I have ever encountered.”
Georgiana covered her gaping mouth with her delicate hand. “Appalling, I am sure,” she said, garnering an approving nod from Sophia before they both turned to him intently.
Darcy continued, as their interest did not flag in the slightest. “There are five daughters, all of them out. The eldest is unmarried, and the youngest can be no older than fifteen.” There, that should be shocking enough to satisfy them.
“Tell us more about this astonishing family!” said Sophia, her interest more piqued than before.
Darcy sighed. This was not going according to plan. “The Bennets are distinct in their impropriety— excepting the two eldest sisters. Them, I must excuse.”
“How is that?” asked Sophia and Georgiana unanimously.
“The eldest, Miss Bennet, is a gentle sort of lady and similar to you, Georgie, in looks. She is one of the handsomest ladies I have had occasion to see, and yet, she is not vain, nor does she give herself airs.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes as if she were examining something small. “What of the other sister?”
“She is most assuredly married to the heir of her father’s estate, the churlish rector on Aunt Catherine’s estate.” He added no details about her, though it did not prevent his mind from dwelling on her shiny chestnut hair, her eyes which sparkled when she laughed and deepened to the color of coffee when she was angry… He held his breath to keep from sighing.
“Your lack of detail concerning this other sister gives me cause to suspect that she was the one to leave quite an impression on you.” Sophia pinched her chin and watched him, adding, “I wonder what impression you left on her?”
“A poor one.” He would not go into details.
Sophia dropped her hand. “Now I see. You have never suffered the disregard of anyone. That you hold her in som
e esteem must trouble your sense of everything true and just in this world. It is a clever trick, and one which would make a gentleman such as yourself do anything in his power to win her good opinion.”
“There was no trickery on her behalf, I can reassure you. She is too genuine in character to fake a disregard she does not feel.” That was what stung the most.
Sophia sipped her tea. “You said that their name is Bennet?” she asked.
“Yes, though I do not suspect you will ever have occasion to meet them.” He dreaded the thought of seeing Miss Elizabeth on the arm of another man— a man so far her inferior. Mrs. Elizabeth Collins. He shivered.
“I think that they sound interesting and should like very much to meet them,” said Georgiana shyly. “Surely, if they wish to have any position of respect in society, they cannot be so bad. And the eldest sisters sound lovely.”
“It is to their advantage that they live in the country and are not often in elevated company. Otherwise, they would be ridiculed by their peers and provide fodder for the gossips.” How difficult it must have been for Miss Elizabeth to grow up in that household. Yet, she possessed an intelligence comparable to his own, a sensibility to propriety paired with an enchanting independence, and a steadfast loyalty to her family which he admired despite the many faults of her relatives.
“Then let us hope that they never have cause to come to town and expose themselves to high society,” added Sophia, setting down her empty teacup with finality.
Chapter 7
Uncle Gardiner had secured them a charming townhouse situated in a stylish neighborhood. Elizabeth had been won over as soon as she saw the flower boxes outside the windows facing the street. The winter blooms were not so impressive in the cold, soggy weather of early January, but she would ensure that colorful blooms cheered every passerby in time for spring.