by Jennifer Joy
Elizabeth rushed over to them as quickly as her feet could carry her and before any other proclamations could be made. She placed herself between them, linking her arm through theirs on either side, and made introductions. Lady Rutledge looked pleased and proclaimed their visit to be like a country spring breeze. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked amused. Mr. Bingley looked overwhelmed. Miss Bingley looked smug and self-satisfied.
"Charmed, I am sure," she said, inclining her head at their curtsies. "What a pity Mr. Darcy could not be here. I am certain your family would leave him with quite the impression," she added with a haughty twist of her mouth.
Elizabeth would have none of her sarcastic comments. Miss Bingley’s unforgiving attitude toward her family made Elizabeth feel like a cat with its claws out, ready to pounce at the next insult.
Mother spoke. "It was a pity we did not meet you or Mr. Darcy while you were at Netherfield Park, Miss Bingley. My husband had so recently passed away, and we were unable to make any calls. How fortuitous that we should now meet again in town."
"I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Bennet. How distressing it is to lose one you have held dear for so many years… and with five unmarried daughters," said Lady Rutledge, instinctively understanding Mother's chief concern in life.
Mother leaned in toward Lady Rutledge, her face as serious as it had been on the day of Father's burial. "It is my greatest concern, Lady Rutledge. How well you understand my predicament." She eyed Mr. Bingley and the colonel so openly, the gentlemen shuffled their feet.
Their discomfort was short-lived, for they soon made way to the elegant table.
Lydia skipped into the room, clasped her hands, and spun in a circle like a little girl. "How delightful. Mother, have you ever seen such a beautiful table?" She fingered a cucumber sandwich before Mother reproved her for touching the food before everyone sat.
Elizabeth wondered what had come over Mother. She expected such behavior from Lydia. But she could not remember a specific time when Mother had corrected her. It was a welcome change, and Lydia withdrew her hand and sat impatiently until Lady Rutledge signaled that it was time to partake of the offerings spread before them.
"Have you met many new people since your arrival?" asked Lady Rutledge politely.
Mother's face flushed in excitement, but her fan was nowhere in sight. Nor did she reach for it. "Oh, it has been a delight to be here and such a welcome change after what we have been through. It is enough to make me forget how things were."
Forget? How could she forget so easily?
Shoving the food into a bulge in her cheek, Lydia said, "And we have ever so many gentleman callers." She looked back and forth between Mr. Bingley and the colonel and giggled.
Mother waved her napkin at her. "Shush, dear, and chew your food," she said under her breath. In a louder voice, she said, "Indeed. I did not think that it would be so easy to make new friends, but we find that we have more than enough to divert us. It is everything I dreamed it could be." She dropped her eyes down to her lap, her face flushed.
Elizabeth was torn. While it pained her to see how easily Mother put the past— and Father— behind her, she was happy to see her looking so well. She smiled at her, attempting to communicate to her mother what she could not say in front of the others seated around the table.
Mother must have felt her warm gaze. She reached under the table and squeezed Elizabeth's hand. When she looked up, it was Elizabeth she looked at. Mother was the picture of contentment, and it was so good to see her— and happy, at that. Perhaps Mother did not need anyone to look out for her after all.
"How helpful that your brother lives here. I only met Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner recently, and they are a charming couple. Surely, they have presented you to some of their friends," Lady Rutledge said.
Swallowing the lump in her cheek, Lydia interrupted, "Oh, no. All I did was place an advertisement in the newspaper."
She looked so pleased with herself against the disbelieving stares around the table. Elizabeth was at a loss for words and wished the floor would swallow her whole. Her humor helped a good deal, but Colonel Fitzwilliam looked as amused as Miss Bingley looked high and mighty. Fortunately, it was the colonel who found his tongue first.
"What an excellent idea! I love to read the advertisements. Just the other day I read an exceptional example of one from a lady. Without giving her age, station in life, or even hinting at her circumstances, she solicited a gentleman to marry. The only recommendation she gave was that she is affectionate."
Mother blushed, and Lydia bounced in her chair. "I helped to write that!"
"That was your work?" asked the colonel, clearly impressed.
Elizabeth sat silently, trying to comprehend what she had heard. Mother wished to remarry? So soon?
Mother beamed at Lydia. "She is a clever one. When I told her my idea, she quickly got to work, and the response has been better than I had imagined."
“Apparently, there are many gentlemen in London in want of affection,” mocked Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth still waited for the floor to open up, but she had no such luck. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, wishing to become invisible, but that did not work either.
The colonel's clap opened her eyes. "Well done, I do say!" he said as he applauded their creative, though unrefined, way of meeting people.
Miss Bingley huffed from across the table. "How can you applaud such a breach in propriety?" she snapped at the colonel. "No one in polite society would act so beyond the pale." She looked around the table for support, settling on her aunt.
Elizabeth held her breath. What would Lady Rutledge think of her mother and sister's bold ways?
"Why, dear, do you assume that ladies and gentlemen in polite society would never use a popular means of communication to further their ambitions? They do it all the time. I admire Mrs. Bennet for her honesty."
"They may do such things, but they do not proclaim it openly! They keep it private," insisted Miss Bingley. For once, Elizabeth agreed with her, but she would not give any indication of it.
Lady Rutledge furled her brow. "Would you have her refuse to admit having written the advertisement once it became known?"
Her challenge met with silence.
Colonel Fitzwilliam added, "Precisely! Which is worse: admitting to putting an advertisement in the newspaper when pressed or brazenly lying about it just to keep up appearances?"
Miss Bingley opened her mouth to speak, but seemed at a loss for words. After several false starts, she finally said, "I would not ever be in a position to know. I would never consider such an indecorous course of action." Satisfied with her answer, she raised her head in her superiority over everyone else in the room.
The colonel was not impressed. "The problem with some people in society is that they give too much import to the opinions of others."
Miss Bingley's eyes snapped at him. "I know of others who would share my opinion. Mr. Darcy, for example." Her eyes trailed over to Elizabeth.
A sea of turbulence battered her stomach. What would Mr. Darcy think of her family? Elizabeth could not care less what others thought, but his opinion had become very important to her. Would he think ill of her family and cease to be her friend?
Chapter 27
Now that Darcy had determined to arrange an outing which would allow Miss Elizabeth an enjoyable evening with her family in a place where all would be at ease, the universe conspired against him. Urgent letters arrived requiring his immediate attention, and he spent a good portion of his afternoon at the solicitor's office making decisions he would have postponed if at all possible.
He called at the address for Mrs. Bennet only to find her out. He called at the home of the Gardiners to find that they had left town and were not expected to return soon. His plans off to a rocky start, he returned home exhausted and surly. To make things worse, he had not seen Miss Elizabeth all day.
Only a book would put up with him when he was out of sorts, so he hid away in his study, pouring h
imself a drink and settling into his leather chair with a novel Miss Elizabeth had recommended. Engrossed in the reading, it irked him all the more when a knock at the door and a visitor was announced.
Richard breezed past the butler, charging into Darcy's study like the intruder he was. Darcy glared at him in the hopes that his overly cheerful cousin would take his hint and go away.
Sitting across from Darcy, crossing his ankle over his knee, and helping himself to the decanter on the table beside them, Richard began speaking. If he had noticed how unwelcome his presence was, he ignored it.
"You missed all the fun this afternoon, Darcy. Never have I met such diverting people before!"
"You do not get out enough," growled Darcy.
"Miss Jane Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner were unable to attend Lady Rutledge's luncheon, being out of town…" Richard continued with an explanation of their absence, a point which Darcy already knew. "…Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet came in their place, and what a treat it was for all of us at the table. All of us excepting Miss Bingley, that is." He stopped to chuckle, and Darcy's impatience grew now that his cousin finally had something interesting to relate.
"What were they like?" he asked to get Richard talking again.
"Mrs. Bennet is a handsome widow if I ever saw one. One would never guess that she has borne five daughters. She is of a merry sort and brutally honest— to the point of making herself an easy target for ridicule."
Darcy furled his brow. "What of the other daughter?"
The colonel paused for a considerable time. "I got the impression that she has been allowed her way much too often. She came across to me as a spoiled child, immature in her ways. Her childlike manners were endearing to a certain point," he said, in an obvious attempt to justify her poor behavior. "It grew evident to me that Mrs. Bennet is new to correcting and guiding her, which makes me curious as to why she would change her treatment of her daughter after fifteen years of what can only be described as negligent."
Such a contrary report of Mrs. Bennet did nothing to clear Darcy's confusion as to her character. He had been under the impression, from the comments of others, that she was known for being silly. What Richard told him suggested, at the least, that she was trying. Perhaps her change in circumstances had served to her benefit in some way.
"I have asked Miss Elizabeth previously about her family, and she has only spoken freely to me of her eldest sister."
Richard nodded. "I think that I now understand why. However, I must give Miss Elizabeth credit. Though her mother on occasion and her sister on several occasions said things appalling enough to make anyone shrink in shame, she did not. We know Miss Elizabeth to be a lady in every sense of the word, but she is not ashamed of her family. In fact, when Miss Bingley made trite comments, I thought that the glares in her direction might catch her on fire. Her loyalty transcends their failures, and that is worthy of admiration." Richard looked intently at Darcy. "Do you not agree, cousin?"
Richard was fishing for information which he had no right to know. Nor was Darcy inclined to tell him. Noncommittally, Darcy nodded and said, "Quite. Now do tell me what they said that was so shocking. Was it one truly appalling statement, or were there several slightly appalling comments?"
"Miss Lydia managed to astonish everyone with each uttering of her mouth. But Mrs. Bennet only truly shocked me with one acknowledgment of something her imprudent daughter said. Do you remember the advertisement I read some mornings ago about the lady soliciting a husband?"
Darcy knew what Richard was about to say before he could say it. His heart hurt for Miss Elizabeth. How would it make her feel to know that her own mother could not mourn her husband for a full year before seeking another? That her father could be so easily replaced would be bitter to swallow.
As he remained silent, Richard continued. "Mrs. Bennet placed the ad. She even boasted at how successful it had been in bringing several callers to their doorstep and how many new friends they have made as a result of it. Fortunately, I sensed in Mrs. Bennet some level of sense, and I do think that she is choosy with whom they associate— to some degree."
"For Miss Elizabeth's sake, I do hope so. Mrs. Bennet is playing a dangerous game, but I do wish her success all the same."
Richard lounged back in his chair, looping his hands behind him as if he would never leave. Darcy's mind was taken off his own concerns, and he wondered how Miss Elizabeth had become the decisive, opinionated, mannerly young lady she was. She had not been given much direction in her formative years— that much he knew. His admiration for her grew more still, so much, in fact, that he would continue with his plans despite the obstacles he had encountered just to see her face glow with delight. He had not made one decision since departing Netherfield Park that did not take her into consideration.
His pulse raced, and his stomach tied into knots. The discomfort only lessened when his mind conjured up an image of Miss Elizabeth with her silky hair, soft skin, beguiling smile, intoxicating laugh, and intelligent eyes. She had the power to make him both miserable and gloriously happy. And she had done so without guile or disguise. His life revolved around her, and he could no longer fool himself. What he felt for her went far beyond admiration. He loved her. Purely. Deeply. Ardently.
Reaching up to tug his cravat, then to push his fingers against his pulsating temples, he reached for his drink and downed the amber liquid in one toss of his head.
"Darcy? Are you well?" asked Richard, leaning forward in his chair.
What a sight he must seem.
Deciding that the best way to conceal the truth of his emotions was through honesty, he admitted, "No."
Richard poured him another drink. "Shall I fetch your doctor?"
Taking the glass proffered, Darcy said, "I thank you, but I do not need a doctor for what ails me."
Richard gave him a quizzical look he would have to keep, for Darcy was not about to satisfy his curiosity. This was the worst possible moment for him to realize his true feelings for Miss Elizabeth. He loved her. He loved her so much, it would be the worst torture to be near her knowing that she was not free to accept an offer of marriage. Not while she was under the thumb of Lady Rutledge. Not until she came out from under the shadow of guilt she felt for her mother and sisters— a loyal devotion she stubbornly clung to with her adorable tenacity.
He did not realize that a groan had escaped him until Richard said, "I shall call the doctor. You are giving me cause for concern." He leaped up and strode to the door.
"Richard, stop! I tell you that I do not need a doctor," he insisted.
When Richard did not stop, he knew he needed to give him more information or else risk disturbing the good doctor while he was dining with his family or enjoying some other activity much more worth his time.
"I have come to a realization, that is all, and it has… disturbed me."
Richard turned, his hand on the doorknob. "A realization? What sort of realization? You are never disturbed, Darcy, and that you should be so affected means that it is something of tremendous import."
Darcy nodded gravely. "It is of the greatest import.” He would continue with his plans. He would do anything and everything to delight Miss Elizabeth. Elizabeth.
She may not be free to return his love yet, but that would not stop him from doing everything in his power to win her heart as surely as she had won his.
Richard turned back, a perceptive contemplation on his face. Walking over to Darcy, he slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. "One moment, you look ill, and now you have the largest, stupidest grin on your face. I see it has got you too."
Elizabeth waited the remainder of the day for Lady Rutledge to comment on her mother and Lydia, but she said nothing. By that evening, Elizabeth was convinced that had Lady Rutledge called Mother and Lydia silly outright, it would have been preferable. Her imagination was much worse than any truth could be.
The next morning, an invitation awaited them at the breakfast table. It was from Mr. Darcy, invi
ting them to join him and a party of close friends to an outing at Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens. Elizabeth noticed that a private note was included with the invitation. Lady Rutledge read it, then folded it as she looked up at Elizabeth. Too bad it had not been for her.
"How gracious of Darcy to arrange for an outing. The weather has been fine lately, and I dare say that it will hold out until tomorrow. Have you been to the gardens before, Eliza?" Lady Rutledge nibbled at a slice of buttered bread.
"No, I have not had the pleasure yet." She was excited to go. It meant an entire evening in Mr. Darcy’s company.
“With your relatives living in London? I find it difficult to believe that they have not thought to take you. They seem so attentive.” Lady Rutledge clucked her tongue at their negligence.
“They are attentive, but the weather is not so gracious. My previous visits have been during the winter months when the gardens are closed due to the rain. Apparently the ladies of the ton do not like to ruin their slippers or muddy their hems just to walk through the glorious landscape,” she defended, a picture of Miss Bingley attempting to do so lightening her mood.
"Indeed. We will leave early enough to have time to wander around and partake of the many entertainments available before nightfall." She tapped her spoon against her teacup, her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth and her eyes looking at something far off. She was scheming. "You know, we could go up in the balloon." Her eyes wandered to the distance again, flickering to Elizabeth now and again.
"Did Mr. Darcy mention who else he has invited? His sister has not yet joined him, has she?" she asked, anxious for any news of the gentleman.
"No, she will not arrive for another two weeks. It is a pity she will miss the excursion, but if I know Darcy at all, I am confident that he will make it up to her. My nephew will be there, of course, as will Caroline and Colonel Fitzwilliam. He mentioned a couple of other names, but you need not concern yourself with them." She flicked her fingers in the air, emphasizing the insignificance of the others invited. Nor did Elizabeth care. He would be there!