by Tilly Davis
As they prepared to pack up their picnic things and embark upon their journey, a carriage approached which appeared familiar, Jane nudging Elizabeth who appeared lost in thought, which indeed she was.
‘Is that not the Bingleys’ carriage?’ Jane said, causing Elizabeth to start.
It was indeed Mr. Bingley’s carriage, moving at some speed on the road towards them, as it passed there was no sign of who the occupants were, the curtains on that side drawn back to shield the interior from the sun.
But Kitty and Lydia recognised the driver, and Jane was certain that it was the coach which had transported them to Netherfield on that memorable night when they had dined with the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy.
‘Are they making for Netherfield?’ Mary asked, as the family looked in some astonishment after the departing coach.
‘What business would they have there now? It was let to the officers, was it not?’ Mrs. Bennet said, failing to disguise her surprise.
‘The officers were billeted with the men back in the village,’ Lydia said with some authority, ‘apparently some of the juniors down in Meryton were becoming unruly, and so the Major General decided that the staff officers would return to the barracks.’
‘I am sure we can trust Lydia to be an accurate source of information as to the movements of the regimental staff,’ Mr. Bennet said, ‘as for whether Mr. Bingley is returning to Netherfield, only our presence in the district will resolve that mystery.’
‘Then we had best leave at once,’ Mrs. Bennet said, ‘why Jane, perhaps he is returning to continue his acquaintance with you, we may yet have a wedding at Longbourn. Come now, Mr. Bennet, let me help you up.’
And so, the family continued their journey back to Longbourn, whilst in front of them the Bingleys continued their progress to Netherfield, both carriages arriving in the district in the early evening.
With Charlotte Lucas returned safely to Meryton Lodge, where her parents were most astounded to hear of the events which had transpired, the Bennets arrived at Longbourn just as the sun was dipping below the horizon over Netherfield.
‘Are you pleased to be home?’ Jane asked Elizabeth, as they stepped down from the carriage.
‘More so than you can ever imagine,’ Elizabeth replied, squeezing her sister’s hand.
Whilst Mrs. Bennet fussed around the family’s bags, the housemaids summoned to assist, the sisters went inside, followed by their father who was wearied from the journey and went straight to bed.
It seemed an age to Elizabeth since she had last set foot in the house, as if a whole lifetime had passed and she had become a different person, which in a way she had.
As she settled down to sleep that night she could not help feeling that she had done the right thing, even though its consequences still might mean losing the very place she had tried to save.
‘I cannot stay a great deal longer,’ Mr. Darcy said at dinner that Sunday evening, ‘I shall be wanted at Netherfield, no doubt Caroline is eager to see me, and to hear of what has transpired.’
‘Why have they returned to Netherfield?’ Lady Catherine asked, ‘did you not say how much Caroline detested it?’
‘It is her brother’s decision, and he was most taken with the district, he needs a place to settle down and put his mark upon. It would not surprise me if he made an offer on the place, which would not please his sister.’
‘Well, she shall be housed at Pemberley before long, when do you plan for the wedding to take place? I shall need some considerable forewarning.’
‘The precise details are yet to be worked out,’ Mr. Darcy said, ‘sometime in the summer, I imagine.’
‘That is a very vague date, dear nephew,’ Lady Catherine said.
‘Vagueness has often been my fault,’ Mr. Darcy said, laying down his knife and fork.
In truth, Mr. Darcy had remained vague as to the exact conditions of his betrothal to Caroline Bingley, he had proposed to her somewhat formally, and had seen little of her since that day, she being in London and he being at business across his estates. But such vagueness could not last, and soon he knew that he must commit further to the prospect of their marriage, he seeing it largely as a duty he must perform.
The letter informing Mr. Darcy that the Bingleys would now be resident once again at Netherfield had arrived some days previously. He had written to his friend informing him that he would leave Rosings Park on the Tuesday, joining them at Netherfield for some days prior to going on to Pemberley to see to his sister, or himself taking a few days in town at his club, the life of a gentleman with means being such that he could decide his whereabouts as he pleased.
Caroline Bingley had rather hoped that he would send Georgiana Darcy to Netherfield, her attempts to persuade her own sister Louisa away from London having failed, Mr. Bingley insisting that their sister remain under tutelage until she had completed her studies.
It was then just a day or so before Mr. Darcy departed for Netherfield, mindful of course that he was somewhat stepping from the frying pan into the fire. But he could not rid himself of the image of Elizabeth in the church on that day, the look she had given him and which he no doubt had given her in return. What would he do if, or when, he saw her again? Of that he could not be sure, but the prospect of their possible meeting was one which filled him with much intrigue.
He knew that he should not tempt fate, that his own destiny was now set in stone: marriage to Caroline Bingley. But that niggling thought that perhaps Elizabeth had broken off her marriage to Mr. Collins because she herself also harboured such doubts as he now possessed was never far from his mind as he rode north towards London and on to Netherfield.
Part III:
Love Discovered
1
Return to Meryton
Elizabeth slept peacefully on that first night back at Longbourn, indeed the whole household slept soundly that night, exhausted from their journey home.
At breakfast that morning a sombre mood remained, though Mrs. Bennet, perhaps desperately clinging on to the possibility of a marriage for one of her daughters, seemed buoyant at the arrival of the Bingleys at Netherfield.
‘The farm hand told me this morning,’ she said, ‘apparently the owner begged Mr. Bingley to return, he is desperate to sell Netherfield, and he thinks the gentleman will buy it.’
‘If only our military intelligence were as efficient as the countryside network, we should have conquered the whole globe by now,’ Mr. Bennet commented from behind his paper.
‘I merely repeat what I have heard, nothing added, and nothing taken away,’ Mrs. Bennet said, looking a little put out by her husband’s comments.
‘You should pay a visit there, Mr. Bennet,’ she said.
‘I have visited on several occasions already,’ he replied, ‘and it did not seem to make much difference.’
‘Perhaps Jane should visit,’ Kitty said, as she and Lydia burst into laughter.
‘Enough,’ Mrs Bennet said, ‘enough.’
The rest of the breakfast passed in silence before Kitty and Lydia excused themselves to make ready for their walk into Meryton, their father wryly observing that it would not do for them to forget what the officers of the regiment looked like, nor they them.
Elizabeth and Jane spent the day in the drawing room, neither feeling ready to face the daily tasks once more allotted to them.
‘You’d have been the mistress of a home today, Elizabeth,’ Mrs. Bennet said rather matter-of-factly, as the morning passed by.
‘And miserable too, Mother,’ her daughter replied.
Mrs. Bennet had largely resigned herself to her daughter’s decision, though she remained somewhat shocked at the dramatic way in which it had been enacted, the thought of Elizabeth running from the church still making her reach for the smelling salts.
Mr. Bennet had shut himself in his study, but as tea time approached Elizabeth knocked on the door, desirous of an audience with the man whose opinion she trusted more than any others.
�
�If that is you, Mrs. Bennet, then I am grateful to you for knocking before disturbing my peace,’ came the answer to Elizabeth’s gentle tap, ‘and if it be anyone else then I bid you also enter.’
Elizabeth opened the door to find her father sitting in his chair by the fire, his legs stretched out, and an open book lying on his chest.
‘Hello, dear,’ he said, ‘I thought you might pay a visit this afternoon, come and sit down.’
Elizabeth sat in the chair opposite his and looked at her father, the two sitting in silence for a few moments before she found words to speak.
‘Did I do the right thing?’ she asked.
At this he smiled, sat up, and closed the book.
‘What is right and what is wrong?’ he said, ‘often we only know the answer after the act for which we require the answer is performed, they say hindsight is a marvellous thing.’
‘But I have ensured that Longbourn will now pass to a man who has no desire to see us remain under its roof.’
‘Only when I am dead,’ Mr. Bennet said, ‘and I do wish you all would stop talking about a future which entails that fact.’
Elizabeth apologised.
‘Elizabeth, whatever your mother might say, or whatever others might think, or Mr. Collins might do, you did the right thing if you followed your heart. Take your mother, if I did not love your mother dearly, would ours be the happy life it is?’
‘No.’
‘Indeed not, I have many faults, I am stubborn, bookish, at times lazy, and I enjoy my own company far too much for a father of five girls and husband to your mother. She is emotional, erratic, highly strung and given to unbalanced temperament. Nevertheless, with all my heart I love her, and I believe she too feels the same for me. If, when you entered the church on Saturday you could not love Mr. Collins, nor see yourself ever growing to love him and the way of life presented to you at Hunsford, then the right thing was to put a stop to the proceedings. Which you did, albeit rather spectacularly.’
‘And you are not cross with me?’ Elizabeth said.
‘Cross? Why no, of course not, I should have been far more cross if you had married Mr. Collins at the expense of your own happiness,’ Mr. Bennet said, ‘but where that happiness might now lie is for you to discern, and only you can decide that. Decide well, Elizabeth, for if marriage is not for love then it is no marriage at all, just a sham before God, even Mr. Collins must surely realise that.’
Elizabeth left her father’s study that afternoon considerably cheered by his words, she had thought him terribly disappointed in her, or at the very least disapproving of her actions. But in actual fact Mr. Bennet was far from this way of thinking. He had allowed his daughter to come to her own conclusion as to the forthcoming marriage, and whilst he had been secretly surprised that she had assented to Mr. Collins’ proposal, he had also trusted in her judgement, and in her right to decide her own future, and it was this position by which he now stood.
The Bennets and the Bingleys had arrived back in the district on the Sunday, and it was on the Tuesday that Mr. Darcy arrived at a fairly late hour, making his way up the long drive towards Netherfield as the sun began to set behind the house.
He had been in a thoughtful mood, as he had been since the events of Saturday, and as he approached the great house he wondered what now lay in store for him here, would he see the Bennet sisters? Would they wish to see him? And what would Caroline Bingley say when soon she heard of all that had transpired at Hunsford?
Mr. Darcy purposefully delayed his entrance to the formal company of the house until dinner was announced, employing a footman to take him to his rooms and assist him with his evening dress.
At eight o’clock he entered the salon, to find Mr. Bingley and his sister at sherry, the latter rising to greet her betrothed as he entered the room.
‘My dearest Fitzwilliam, how we have longed to see you, haven’t we, Charles?’
‘Indeed, we have,’ her brother said, ‘welcome dear friend, come now and sit with us, won’t you have a drink?’
Mr. Darcy accepted the glass of sherry which was proffered, and seated himself next to Charles.
‘How is your aunt?’ Mr. Bingley enquired, ‘and your cousin, she is quite unwell, is she not?’
‘My cousin, yes, in quite poor health, though my aunt remains steadfast, she will no doubt outlive us all,’ Mr. Darcy replied.
‘Oh, Charles, we do not wish to hear of ailing cousins and aristocratic aunts, what of the wedding? Pray, tell us all of what transpired.’
‘My dear Caroline,’ Mr. Darcy said, ‘I thought you wished to hear no more about the Bennets, yet now you demand a full explanation of the nuptials.’
‘Well, as I deigned to allow you to attend the least you can now do is furnish us with a description.’
‘I believe the decision was mine,’ Mr. Darcy said, asserting himself, ‘nevertheless the wedding did not pass as it was planned to do.’
‘Not pass? Well, how can that be, as long as the words are said correctly and the responses are given then the marriage is enacted,’ Caroline said.
‘Quite so, yes,’ Mr Darcy continued, ‘but if the words themselves are not uttered, owing to the bride no longer wishing to continue with the ceremony then the wedding does not occur.’
He allowed the words to be digested.
Caroline Bingley let out a snort of surprise.
‘You mean she ran away?’
‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’
‘Ran from the church? Oh, how utterly delicious, there must have been chaos, that silly Mr. Collins must have appeared quite the fool,’ Caroline said.
‘It was an uncomfortable affair to witness,’ Mr. Darcy continued, ‘I felt most sorry for them all, Mr. Collins seemed most distressed, and one can only imagine Elizabeth’s reaction as she left the church, her sister followed her, of course.’
‘The silly girl,’ Caroline said, ‘to run from one’s own marriage, why, it was as good as she could have hoped for.’
‘Come now, Caroline,’ Mr. Bingley said, ‘let us not take pleasure in the misfortune of others, it is a tragic thing when a happy day descends into sorrow.’
‘I would not have called it a happy day in the first instant,’ his sister continued, ‘the whole thing sounds frightful, such a shame you had to witness it, Fitzwilliam. So, that means that she is returned to Longbourn with the rest?’
‘I believe so, yes.’
‘Well, I absolutely forbid either of you to be in contact with them, we cannot be seen to be associated with such people, she has disgraced herself, and her family,’ Caroline said.
‘Enough now,’ Mr. Bingley said, ‘I believe it is time for us to go into dinner.’ And at that moment the gong mercifully sounded, and the three proceeded in silence to the dining room where they passed a silent dinner, only broken by the scrape of cutlery on the plates. Mr. Darcy was furious at Caroline’s words against Elizabeth, the lady herself delighted by the sorrow she been privy to that night.
It would have been well for Caroline Bingley to lay aside her delight at the misfortune of the Bennets, rather than continue to make light of it as the days passed.
Her constant repetition of the events, and demands for the further eliciting of facts from Mr. Darcy served only to infuriate that gentleman further, whilst Mr. Bingley was surprised to see the evident pleasure which his sister continued to derive from the news that Elizabeth Bennet was now tarnished goods.
It was on the Saturday following the wedding, one week since the momentous events had taken place, and Mr. Darcy, tired of his betrothed’s constant barrage of questions, had decided to take a walk.
The parkland at Netherfield is extensive, and one can choose to walk towards whichever path of the compass one should wish, each bringing with it the delights of the surrounding countryside.
Despite this fact, Mr. Darcy had found his steps taking him in the general direction of Longbourn and Meryton, he having a vague idea to go into the village and post a lette
r to his sister, informing her that he intended to pay a visit to Pemberley in the near future.
Coming close to the point where the trees of the estate gave way to the track which passed Longbourn, he paused. It would not do to be seen passing the house directly, besides one of the sisters was bound to see him. And so, he took a circular route, crossing over the fields, and up upon the ridge above the house, observing that all was quiet at Longbourn that day. But Mr. Darcy’s plan to avoid detection went somewhat awry when, upon rounding a corner, he spotted the unmistakable figures of Elizabeth and Jane walking across the fields in front him.
Without a second thought he dived into the undergrowth off the path, scratching his face and hands on the brambles as he hid from sight, waiting for the two women to pass.
‘I am fearful for father’s health,’ Elizabeth said, as she and her sister walked across the meadow that afternoon, ‘did you see the way he walked from breakfast this morning, it was if he were in great pain and the act gave him much discomfort.’
‘Do not fret so,’ Jane said, ‘if he were ill then he would be certain to say so, or at least to confide in one of us.’
‘I cannot help but worry that he is keeping back his true health from us, I feel so guilty.’
‘There is nothing to feel guilty for, Elizabeth, Longbourn will not fall from our hands overnight, and Mr. Collins would have to force us from it before we left. Come, let us pick some of these beautiful flowers for mother and arrange them at home.’
The two women left the path to gather the daffodils from the hedgerows, Mr. Darcy still hiding across from them. He had heard them mention Mr. Collins and the fate of Longbourn, perhaps it was true that Elizabeth had only deigned to marry him in order to save the estate, yet of course if she were to marry Mr. Darcy, then Longbourn could be saved at the drop of a hat. The thought flashed across Mr. Darcy’s mind and he dismissed it at once as folly, he must not allow himself to think in this manner, it would not do at all. Yet still that little thought persisted.