by Jann Rowland
Chapter XXV
Parting from her dearest sister was an occasion for sorrow and had always been for Elizabeth. As the youngest in a family of five daughters, and with a mother who did not understand her, Elizabeth had often experienced difficulties, with Lydia more than her other sisters, for she had not been afraid to use her status as an elder sister to lord over her younger siblings. Jane had been Elizabeth’s rock, her comfort, even closer to her than her father had been. Had it been possible, Elizabeth thought she might never part from her sister again.
Knowing the separation would be short, for Elizabeth would return to Netherfield after a month at Snowlock, rendered the parting easier for both sisters. Still, the impending departures induced them more to each other’s company, as occurred the day before Jane and Mr. Bingley were to return to Netherfield. It was during this time that several matters of import passed between them.
“I still dislike this notion of your staying at Longbourn, Lizzy,” said Jane for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Would it not be enough to stay at Netherfield and visit Mama whenever you like?”
Elizabeth could not suppress the chuckle Jane’s words elicited. “It seems you possess a similar turn of thought, for Mr. Darcy made the same observation.”
“And you should listen to him,” said Jane. “You promised you would stay with me.”
“So I shall,” replied Elizabeth. “I have, however, come to understand that I have not always respected and esteemed Mama as I ought. A few days in her company is not too much to ask.”
“Only a few days?” pressed Jane.
“As I told Mr. Darcy, I doubt I could withstand Mr. Collins for much longer than that.”
“Very well,” said Jane. “Charles will not like it any more than I do; as long as you do not mean to stay weeks, we may persuade him to relent.
“Now, I have something more important to discuss with you. Do my eyes deceive me, or has your admiration for Mr. Darcy grown in the time we have been in Derbyshire?”
This time, Elizabeth’s laugh was of the full-throated variety. “It seems I cannot escape this discussion from all quarters, for Georgiana would not rest until we spoke of it only a few days ago!”
“You have discussed this with Mr. Darcy’s sister, and yet you have not seen fit to speak to me?” demanded Jane. Elizabeth knew from experience and her sister’s playful tone that Jane was not offended, and that knowledge allowed her to respond in a like fashion.
“Only because she would not allow the matter to drop!”
“Yes, I have long suspected that Georgiana wishes to have you for a sister,” said Jane. “What of your feelings on the matter?”
What followed was a discussion in the same vein as the one Elizabeth had with Georgiana a few days before. Jane listened to Elizabeth’s account without pointing out her sister’s feelings were rather nebulous and haphazard. And then when Elizabeth fell silent, she made some observations.
“Your uncertainty does not revolve around your feelings for Mr. Darcy, Lizzy. Or am I mistaken?”
“No, I suppose it does not,” replied Elizabeth, "though I will note that I have not thought about my feelings for the gentleman to any great degree.”
“And why is that?” asked Jane.
“It is difficult to explain,” replied Elizabeth. “Perhaps there is some echo left of my initial opinion that a man such as Mr. Darcy would never offer for a woman such as I. Or it may be that it has all come on too suddenly—I hardly know myself.”
“Then what do you mean to do about it? Should he do as I think likely and propose to you, shall you accept him?”
“A woman of my social background refusing Mr. Darcy? Perish the thought!”
The glare with which her sister responded, Elizabeth could have predicted in advance, and the sight set her to chuckling. “Do not fear, Jane, for I have not lost my senses, neither am I so flippant concerning this matter. Mr. Darcy is an excellent man—the best of men, I am coming to believe. Should he propose, I shall certainly accept, for I believe I could search for a lifetime and find no better. That is not the issue.”
“Whether Mr. Darcy will offer for you is the question,” was Jane’s sage reply.
“That it is,” said Elizabeth. “You must own that Mr. Darcy’s position in life is far different from ours. Will he overcome it enough to offer for a dowerless girl, not of his sphere?”
“I believe he will.”
“And I cannot dispute your opinion, Jane, for I do not know, and I do not wish to be heartbroken should he decide against me. I prefer to maintain a little distance against that possibility, for I have no desire to invite unhappiness.”
“With that, I cannot fault you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, Jane. Georgiana was much more forceful in her words, and though I appreciate it, I suspect her thoughts are not on whether her brother esteems me enough to offer for me. In her mind, he must, as she and I are almost as close as if we were sisters.”
With a laugh, Jane put her arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “If you put it that way, I suppose it must make a certain measure of sense from her perspective.”
“I suppose it must!”
“Do you know if Mr. Darcy will appear at Snowlock?”
“I do not know,” replied Elizabeth. “It is my understanding he intends to stay at Pemberley for a time to see to some concerns on the estate. At present, he has been noncommittal about his intentions thereafter.”
Jane nodded, though her amusement was plain to see. “As Georgiana so amply displayed last evening.”
It was the truth. Though she had pressed her brother, trying to induce him to commit to joining them at Snowlock, Mr. Darcy had remained unmoved, informing her that he did not know how long his tasks would last. Elizabeth did not think he was against visiting his uncle’s estate—it was more that a hint of caution had appeared in his manners, for after their ride together, Mr. Darcy had been less in evidence. Knowing what had happened on that excursion—Elizabeth had not even shared that private experience with Jane—she was content to allow him to understand his feelings without pressuring him to do so. She was no Caroline Bingley, after all.
Or perhaps it was just a measure of the gentleman altogether. It had not missed Elizabeth’s notice that the gentleman’s behavior seemed to change often, for at times he was more open, almost genial, while at others, he withdrew behind his mask. Elizabeth could understand, for a man of his consequence marrying a girl of hers must be a serious decision, one he could not make on a whim.
“Then we shall wait to see what happens,” said Jane, turning businesslike. “Should Mr. Darcy not propose, however, or should he not do so as expeditiously as I think he might, I will have your promise that you will come to my house, and your stay with Mr. Collins will be of short duration.”
Laughing at Jane’s tenacity, Elizabeth exclaimed: “I do so promise, for I know you shall not allow me to leave this room until I do!”
“As long as you understand the situation,” said Jane, unrepentant. “I shall hold you to your pledge and not allow you to renege, Lizzy.”
“There is no need,” replied Elizabeth. “For I do not mean to. You have my solemn promise that my stay at Longbourn will be no more than a week—to be honest, I think I shall tire of Mr. Collins before then.”
And so, the sisters delivered Elizabeth’s intentions to Mr. Bingley, and while the gentleman did not like the result, he understood her reasons for her decision. “Your uncle will not like your decision either, Elizabeth. Mr. Gardiner was adamant that you should not stay in Mr. Collins’s house again.”
“It is only for a few days, Mr. Bingley. I wish to visit with my mother before I leave my childhood home forever.”
Mr. Bingley nodded and dropped the subject.
The day of their parting arrived, and the family gathered about the two carriages prepared for their journeys. They exchanged goodbyes, hopeful they would soon be in one another’s company again. For Mr. Darcy’s part
, he seemed content to allow those departing to share their rituals of leave-taking, for he watched and kept his own counsel, though Elizabeth noted that with Georgiana he was as affectionate as ever.
To Elizabeth herself, he was cordial, wishing her a pleasant journey and expressing his expectation that she would find welcome at his uncle’s house. Had Elizabeth not had some months of experience to fall back on, she might have wondered if she was anything other than a casual and indifferent acquaintance to the gentleman. As it was, she put a different interpretation on the gentleman’s actions, that of a man who was reticent and did not always know how to show his feelings. With a cheerful manner, she farewelled him and allowed him to hand her into the carriage for their journey southward.
“Well, Elizabeth?” said Georgiana when the carriage had left the drive. “Are you excited to visit my aunt’s house?”
“More intimidated than excited, to own the truth,” replied Elizabeth, settling a grin on her friend. “Who would not be in such a situation?”
“There is no need to be so, for my Fitzwilliam relations are all that is good.”
“I am certain they are! But it is not every day a countess invites a woman of my background to stay at her home. I hope you will not hold my nervousness against me.”
“Miss Darcy is correct, Miss Bennet,” said Mrs. Annesley, who was escorting them to their destination. “I have always received the warmest of welcomes from the Fitzwilliam family.”
“And I am certain my experience shall be the same,” said Elizabeth.
They passed through Derbyshire the subject of Elizabeth’s nerves left behind for other, more interesting topics. As they journeyed, Elizabeth noted the slight change in the landscape the further they traveled from the peaks. Derbyshire was a rugged shire, but as they went south, the hills flattened a little and the land undulated less than it had near Mr. Darcy’s estate.
To Georgiana’s accompanying chatter, Elizabeth’s thoughts wandered back to the master of Pemberley, whom they had left behind. Had Elizabeth imagined the depth of feeling the gentleman possessed toward her? Was it nothing more than a dream? Uncertain, as she had not thought she had harbored overt wishes in the matter—though she could say with no hesitation she had been receptive—Elizabeth continued to brood on the subject almost the entire distance to their destination. It was fortunate that Georgiana did not appear to notice her distraction, for Elizabeth did not know how she might have explained it to her friend.
As the distance was fewer than thirty miles, it was early afternoon when the carriage entered a long road leading through strands of trees and over small bridges toward the manor house in the distance. When Georgiana cried out: “Look, it is my uncle’s house!” Elizabeth credited her first sight of it to familiarity with the road.
The carriage pulled to a halt in front of a handsome stone building, as wide and tall as Pemberley, though made of darker stone. The girls disembarked, to the welcome of the family who awaited them before the building’s façade. Georgiana greeted her family with embraces and tears while Elizabeth stood by. But she was not forgotten for long, for Lady Susan soon turned to her and smiled.
“Welcome to Snowlock, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, your ladyship, Lord Matlock,” replied Elizabeth, curtseying low to the couple “Please allow me to express my gratitude for your kind invitation.”
“None of that, now,” replied Lady Susan. “We cannot be more pleased to have you stay with us, even if it is only for a short duration. Rachel and Charity, in particular, have anticipated your arrival with impatience.”
“And we would greet Miss Bennet if you would not dominate all her time,” said Lady Charity in a cheerful voice.
Lady Susan looked heavenward and shared a grin with Elizabeth. “I am certain you shall have much of Miss Bennet’s time while she is with us, Charity. In the meantime, it would be best if we allow our guests to refresh themselves in their rooms.”
“Then I shall guide her there,” said Lady Charity, stepping forward and winding her arm through Elizabeth’s, drawing her away from her mother. “Come, Miss Bennet. Let Rachel and I show you where you will stay with us. We shall have so much fun!”
Thus, Elizabeth allowed her hostess’s daughters to lead her away. The family was so welcoming that she felt at ease at once, and for the first time in several weeks, she relaxed. Perhaps her time at Snowlock would be as enjoyable as that she had experienced at Pemberley.
“So, your brother did not accompany you after all?” asked Aunt Susan in a low tone as Rachel and Charity led Elizabeth away.
Georgiana’s huff of annoyance informed her aunt what she thought of William’s recalcitrance, but she could not refrain from adding: “His claim of work I believe to be an excuse.”
“And how did the visit proceed?”
“Well, as far as I know,” replied Georgiana. She considered the matter for several moments before venturing: “You know William; he is careful and considers every possible angle before he decides. It is clear to me that he admires Elizabeth, but he has made no overtures.”
“And Miss Bennet?”
“Elizabeth recognizes his interest, and I believe she is half in love with him already. But she does not wish to harbor any expectations, believing it likely William will dash them and disappoint her.”
“She has told you this?”
Georgiana sniffed and said: “She did not need to, but yes, we have conversed on the subject.”
When Lady Susan fell silent, her eyes turned inward, Georgiana waited for her aunt to speak. Lady Susan knew of Georgiana’s desire to have Elizabeth as a sister, for she had told her ladyship as much before they left London. Given Lady Susan’s response to Georgiana’s information, she was certain she was not opposed, though Georgiana did not know how friendly she was either. At the very least, her aunt betrayed no hint of seeing it with a critical eye, or that she thought any evil of Elizabeth.
“This careful attitude is one your brother has espoused all of his life,” said Lady Susan at length. “Perhaps, however, we can induce him to be impulsive for once.”
Intrigued, Georgiana said: “How so?”
With a laugh, Lady Susan patted her niece’s back. “Do not concern yourself, my dear. Leave it to me. I expect we shall see William hurrying to Snowlock before the end of the week.”
“I hope so,” said Georgiana.
The first evening at Snowlock, Elizabeth grew more comfortable by the moment. The earl, she noted, was not so friendly with Elizabeth as were the female members of his family, though he was not unkind. Rather, Elizabeth thought he was reserved, speaking to her with perfect civility when the occasion demanded it, but watchful at other times, inspecting her as if he was not certain what to make of her. Elizabeth did not think his scrutiny was hostile.
Lady Rachel was like him in some ways; then again, she was not of an open temperament like her sister, akin to the differences between Mary and Lydia in her own family. Being of a similar age and the same sex meant that Lady Rachel warmed to Elizabeth much quicker than her father. At Lady Charity’s insistence, however, the bounds of formality were cast aside in favor of more friendly relations.
“Oh, that will not do,” said Lady Charity when Elizabeth spoke her name that evening. “You are staying at our house, and I am not some grand matron like my mother. I should prefer it if you referred to me by my name, rather than allowing ‘Lady Charity’ to intrude between us.”
Surprised as she was, Elizabeth could not respond before her ladyship’s voice interrupted them. “You consider me to be in my dotage, do you, Charity?”
“Of course not, Mother,” replied Lady Charity with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand. “But whereas you are Elizabeth’s elder and must command her respect, I wish to have a friend, and these courtesy titles get in the way.”
Uncertain what she should do, Elizabeth remained silent. It was the words of Lady Charity’s sister which decided her response.
“I believe Char
ity has the right of it, Miss Bennet. If you will return the favor of allowing me to refer to you by your Christian name, I should very much appreciate it if you would dispense with my title.”
“If you are comfortable with it, my dear,” said Lady Susan kindly, interpreting Elizabeth’s hesitance with exactness. “And only when we are alone together. Should we meet again in public, formality would be advisable.”
Charity appeared ready to protest, but a look from her mother silenced her. “Others would believe it presumptuous for Miss Bennet to refer to us familiarly in public, Charity, regardless of our wishes. While we are at Snowlock, it is a suitable compromise, is it not?”
Relieved, Elizabeth turned to Charity and Rachel and said: “I agree with Lady Susan. If you wish it, I would prefer to dispense with formality while I am here.”
And so it was that Lady Rachel and Lady Charity became Rachel and Charity, though Elizabeth stuck to formality with their parents. Lady Susan did not make an issue of it, though if asked, Elizabeth might have agreed to something more familiar in her case. Lord Matlock, however, was another matter; Elizabeth could not imagine ever referring to him with any other moniker than his title. There were limits to her courage, after all!
“Now,” said Lady Susan that evening after dinner, “what shall we plan to see to your entertainment while you are here?”
Georgiana giggled and shot Elizabeth a look, saying: “If there are paths aplenty and fair weather to explore them, I doubt we shall see much of Elizabeth, Aunt.”
“I am fond of walking and nature,” agreed Elizabeth, though not without shooting a look at Georgiana. The girl was not put off in the slightest.
“That is appreciated, for a demanding guest can be difficult to please.”
Privately, Elizabeth could not imagine anyone visiting an earl’s house with demands of amusement or anything else!
“Paths we can provide aplenty,” said Lord Matlock. “Though I am certain Georgiana will protest that Snowlock is nothing to Pemberley, we are proud of the beauty of our home.”