In a More Amiable Light

by Marley Fulton

  She no longer had any doubts regarding Mr. Bingley's affection for her. Whenever he was around her, he lavished her with his full attention. She could talk of nothing but Mr. Bingley, and while Elizabeth was a most patient listener, as she was truly happy for her sister, at times, she was growing a little weary of the topic.

  Elizabeth and Jane were taking tea in the parlor when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy came to call. Their visit was a complete, but welcome, surprise, to both Jane, who was always happy to see Mr. Bingley, and to Elizabeth, who was happier to see Mr. Darcy than she was willing to admit.

  The two gentlemen entered, and the two women went to greet them with the proper pleasantries. Before they could even speak so much as a word, Mr. Bingley blurted out:

  "I have come to ask to speak to Miss Bennet in private."

  Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as the look on Mr. Bingley's face told all about his intentions. Mr. Darcy's expression also spoke on the same matter, as he suppressed a smile. Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy quizzically, as if to ask if she were correct in her suspicions regarding Mr. Bingley's request. Mr. Darcy nodded ever so slightly and raised an eye-brow.

  Jane's knees went weak, as she could not allow herself to possibly guess at Mr. Bingley's reason for a private word. If she were to guess wrong, she would be most devastated, and if she were to guess correctly, well, then the very thought of what Mr. Bingley could require was almost too much for the delicate and reserved Jane to bear at the moment.

  Mr. Bingley had not intended to blurt out his request in such a forward way. He had intended to greet the women, and perhaps sit down to tea. He had intended to ease himself a little more gently into the request. However, the moment he saw Jane he was lost. And now that he had already made the request, he had no choice but to get right to it. He cleared his throat:

  "May I, Miss Bennet, have a word with you in private?" Mr. Bingley asked most sincerely. Jane looked to Elizabeth, who smiled knowingly at her sister. Jane nodded most quickly, and Elizabeth stepped forward.

  "We shall allow these two the parlor then," Elizabeth said, smiling at Mr. Bingley. Then she turned to Mr. Darcy. "Mr. Darcy, could I have the pleasure of your companionship for a walk in the garden?" Elizabeth asked Mr. Darcy. "I believe the weather is turning slightly, and I would welcome the opportunity for some fresh air."

  Mr. Darcy nodded. He would have Elizabeth all to himself, just as he had hoped.

  "Most certainly, Miss Bennet. It would be my pleasure to accompany you in the garden. I was just saying to myself how much I would enjoy a walk on this particular day."

  Mr. Darcy motioned for Elizabeth to exit the room first, and then followed her, leaving a stunned Jane and a very nervous Mr. Bingley to their own devices in the parlor.

  Mr. Bingley stood at the parlor entrance way and waited for the front door to close, signaling the departure of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. He then took a deep breath and approached Jane.

  "Miss Bennet," he began. "My dear Miss Bennet, I hope you have no doubts of the reason for this meeting…."

  Jane could not speak, she could only look at him with wide eyes. She had to struggle to breathe, for fear of forgetting to do so completely. Mr. Bingley was about to continue, when Mrs. Gardiner came into the room.

  "Have you seen Mr. Gardiner," Mrs. Gardiner asked, oblivious at first to the scene before her. "I have asked him numerous times to retrieve - oh, why hello Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Gardiner said when she saw Mr. Bingley. She stepped forward and reached for his hands in an affectionate greeting. "I did not know that you had come to visit. Will you take some tea then?"

  Mrs. Gardiner wondered for a moment why Jane's face had gone pale and why Mr. Bingley was standing awkwardly before Jane.

  "I have come to speak to Jane … to Miss Bennet in private," Mr. Bingley began to explain, but before he could say anything further, the realization of what was to happen struck Mrs. Gardiner most forcefully. She raised her hand and said:

  "Oh, but why yes. But yes, yes of course. Say nothing further. No tea then," she fumbled as she backed away, most embarrassed for interrupting their most important moment. She contemplated leaning against the door to listen, but then thought better of that. Jane would surely regale them with all the details later. She clapped her hands together and hurried off for the kitchen. She intended to have her cook prepare a celebratory dinner at once!

  Once she had left, Mr. Bingley was forced to start from the beginning, for although he had practiced most diligently what he was going to say, he could only say it from the start, as that was the only way he knew how.

  "Jane," he began again. "My most lovely Jane. I have come here today to-"

  But before he could continue any further, Mr. Gardiner came into the room. "I have misplaced my reading glasses," Mr. Gardiner said, scanning the room for the culprit glasses. "If you have seen them-" but he stopped there. "Good day, Mr. Bingley," he said, extending his hand towards Mr. Bingley. "I did not know you had come to call. A most welcome surprise indeed."

  Mr. Bingley had no choice but to return the handshake offered him, although he was beginning to become rather annoyed by the intrusions. He was nervous enough, and wanted so desperately to say what he had to say. He was afraid that he would lose his nerve if he were derailed from his speech any further.

  "But why are you standing in the middle of the room, kind sir?" Mr. Gardiner asked, perplexed. "And my dear Jane, whatever is the matter. You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

  Mr. Bingley pressed his lips together and faced Mr. Gardiner. "I have come to have a word with Jane in private," he stated.

  "In private?" Mr. Gardiner asked, still confused. "But why would you-" but then he realized, and his face showed his understanding. He nodded quickly and mumbled something not of a coherent nature. He left the room as abruptly as he had entered it.

  Jane did not think she could take much more of the suspense. She was not entirely sure of what Mr. Bingley had to say, but she was desperate for him to just say it. Mr. Bingley was also becoming desperate to end his request, and he felt the need to speak it quickly lest another person interrupt them. So he started again:

  "Jane," he began. "My most lovely Jane. I have come here today to -" but then he forgot entirely what he had rehearsed. He fumbled, embarrassed, as he tried desperately to remember all the beautiful and complimentary words he had intentionally put together to commemorate this most momentous of occasions.

  "To?" Jane prompted him, but it was no use. Mr. Bingley could not remember a single word of his intended speech. He looked to Jane then, who was indeed most lovely. Perhaps Mr. Darcy had been right - perhaps it need not be that complicated. He decided to throw all caution to the wind and to just simply ask.

  "Jane," Mr. Bingley said, as he dropped to his knee. "Will you take my hand in marriage?"

  Jane gasped as tears filled her eyes. She had not expected the proposal to be so simple and straight-forward in nature, and for a moment she was caught off guard by his abrupt words. But she recovered soon, and so, with the most genuine of smiles, she simply replied:

  "Yes."

  &&&

  Meanwhile, in the garden, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were enjoying a lovely stroll, even though the weather was not really as pleasant as it had promised to be earlier that morning for light clouds covered the sky.

  "And has our dear Mr. Bingley come to ask what I think?" Elizabeth asked, as they leisurely walked along. Once again, Mr. Darcy was confronted by Elizabeth's overly direct nature. It was certainly not polite to ask after another man's business. But Mr. Darcy was far more amused than affronted by Elizabeth's question.

  "Well that depends entirely on what it is you think he has come to ask," Mr. Darcy replied.

  Elizabeth stopped then and looked up to the sky. She breathed in the air deeply. She was so very happy for her sister, and she took a moment to imagine both Jane and her Mr. Bingley in the parlor. "Since he wanted to speak to her in private, I can only assume he came to ask after the latest fashion i
n waist coats," Elizabeth teased. She turned to Mr. Darcy then. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she was as beautiful as ever. Mr. Darcy could barely resist his desire to be closer to her.

  Mr. Darcy nodded. "You are most correct," he said. "Mr. Bingley has come to have a private conversation with Jane regarding the latest fashion in waist coats."

  Elizabeth laughed out loud then, a true and real laugh that spoke of pure joy. Mr. Darcy was delighted to watch her. "And do you think Miss Bennet will entertain this conversation?" Elizabeth asked, as she began to stroll again. Mr. Darcy met her pace and walked beside her.

  "I think that you would know better than I about whether or not your sister will entertain a conversation about waist coats," he replied, still smiling.

  Elizabeth pretended to think on this for a moment, very much enjoying the playful dialogue between them.

  "I think," Elizabeth said, stopping again to face Mr. Darcy. "I think she most definitely will," Elizabeth replied.

  "Then Mr. Bingley will be most happy indeed," Mr. Darcy said, and the look on his face shifted from amusement to intensity. He met Elizabeth's eyes. "He does so love to discuss waist coats."

  "Love is rather a strong word for waist coats, would you not agree?” Elizabeth asked, as she met Mr. Darcy's gaze.

  "I do not believe that love is too strong a word for waist coats," Mr. Darcy replied, as he stared deeply into her eyes. "As his affection for waist coats runs deeply."

  "As does Jane's," Elizabeth responded. "In fact, I wager that her affection for waist coats has grown over the past several weeks." Elizabeth looked away then.

  "They are the most perfect match then, are they not?" Mr. Darcy asked.

  "Indeed they are," Elizabeth agreed. Elizabeth began walking again, and once again, Mr. Darcy strolled along beside her.

  Mr. Darcy saw a small white flower then, similar to the one he had seen a few days earlier in his own garden. He remembered that he had likened Elizabeth to the flower, resilient and unwilling to bend to the winter's cold. He marveled at the fact that, unlike the first time he had seen the flower, he was now standing with Elizabeth, and not merely wanting for her presence. He thought of his dear friend, who was likely engaged by now, and he looked to Elizabeth. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to spend every single day of the rest of his life with her.

  He loved her, he finally admitted to himself. He absolutely loved her. And if he were not mistaken, she also felt affection for him. He bent down and plucked the flower from the ground.

  Elizabeth watched him do this, confused by his behavior. But before she could say anything, he stepped in close to Elizabeth with the flower between his fingers. Elizabeth did not step back, but instead let his nearness be. He reached up then and tucked the flower into her hair, just above her ear. His cheek was so near hers that she could feel the heat from his skin. Elizabeth felt as though she could not breathe while he was placing the flower in her hair. However, once the flower was secure, she inhaled deeply. He took both her arms in his hands then.

  "Miss Bennet … Elizabeth," he said, searching her eyes. But she did not meet his gaze, she would not look at him. She felt weak and faint, for she knew the gaze he held on her and what that gaze meant. "Elizabeth," he said again, as he took a deep breath. But he did not continue. He only squeezed her arms gently and tenderly. Elizabeth's gaze remained locked on the ground. He released her arms and took a step back from her. She turned her head to the side, then looked at him and their eyes locked. His gaze was so intense, so full of yearning that Elizabeth was completely lost for what to say or do. He did not speak a single word, but only held her gaze for a moment longer and then turned and walked away.

  Shaken, Elizabeth stayed behind in the garden, a white flower tucked into her hair.

  Elizabeth reached up and felt the silky softness of the petals under her fingers. She could still feel where his hand had brushed across her hair. She felt dizzy and exhilarated all at the same time, as she watched Mr. Darcy walk away and back into the house.

  The Gardiner’s house was filled with the sound of voices and laughter after the excitement of the proposal and acceptance. A lavish tea was being set up, and Mr. Darcy offered his most sincere congratulations to both Mr. Bingley and to Jane, who both beamed with happiness. Mrs. Gardiner asked Mr. Darcy if he would take tea with them, but he declined. He had to be leaving, he explained, but thanked them for the kind offer. Mr. Gardiner saw Mr. Darcy to the door. Elizabeth was still standing in the garden, staring in the direction of the house.

  Mr. Darcy turned to Mr. Gardiner then and invited him to meet him the following day at the Gentleman's Club. Mr. Gardiner, a little perplexed by Mr. Darcy's invitation, gladly accepted. Mr. Darcy left then, walking briskly towards his carriage. Elizabeth looked after him as he walked. She expected him to stop and look at her, but he did not. He simply got in his carriage and rode away.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath, looked once more up to the sky, and then entered the house where both tea and happiness were overflowing.

  Chapter 9

  When Mr. Gardiner told his wife of Mr. Darcy's invitation to the Gentleman's Club, Mrs. Gardiner wondered why such an invitation had come about. Mr. Gardiner assured her that he did not know, but he revealed to her that there was something serious in Mr. Darcy's tone when he had extended the invitation. In Mr. Gardiner's opinion, and he was only guessing, it seemed as though there was something grave that Mr. Darcy wanted to discuss. Mrs. Gardiner wondered what that could possibly be, and they debated the matter the entire evening.

  That day and evening passed quickly. Mr. Bingley did not leave the entire day, as he was invited and accepted to stay for dinner. He simply could not bring himself to depart from Jane – and she felt most grateful for this!

  Elizabeth was lost in her thoughts and own tumult of feelings the entire while, thinking, guessing, hoping, fearing about the meaning of Mr. Darcy’s gesture, trying to understand her desires and finally accepting the depth and strength of her own feelings for him.

  She knew she wanted him to put flowers in her hair, to touch her hand, to cares her, to gaze into her eyes – to make her happy. For the rest of her life.

  &&&

  The following day, Jane was still glowing and Elizabeth was still distressed.

  Mr. Gardiner left with much eagerness to meet Mr. Darcy at the Gentlemen’s Club– an exclusive place where he had been only twice before.

  Darcy was already there, and they took a drink and sat comfortably at the table. Mr. Gardiner delved into a conversation about duck hunting, as the season was fast approaching. Mr. Darcy listened politely, although he seemed somewhat distracted. Mr. Gardiner finally decided it best to simply ask Mr. Darcy if there was something particular he wished to discuss.

  "I could be wrong, but I feel as though there is something weighing on you, Mr. Darcy. Is there a special reason that you have extended this invitation to me?" Mr. Gardiner asked gently.

  Mr. Darcy nodded, appreciating Mr. Gardiner's forward approach.

  "There is a purpose for this meeting," Mr. Darcy admitted. "It might sound strange but it is a matter of great importance that I should have brought to your attention much earlier. It is with regard to Wickham – a man with whom I imagine you have become acquainted. I know he was on rather friendly terms with the Bennet family.”

  Mr. Gardiner was completely dumfounded. That he did not expect. He was aware of the past between the two and never imagined Darcy would bring up the matter with him.

  “Mr. Wickham? Yes, we met him while we visited Longbourn for Christmas. He was a good friend of the family, indeed. I know he grew up at Pemberley, as he told us.”

  Mr. Darcy thought for a moment about how to handle the delicate topic. He had knowledge of Wickham that others were oblivious to. He thought back to his recent argument with the Colonel, who suggested he warn people of Mr. Wickham's unsavory character. At the time, Mr. Darcy had thought the idea preposterous. However, circumstances had change
d.

  It was now his intention to pursue Elizabeth, and he felt the desire to protect both her and her family.

  "Mr. Gardiner, there are some things that you should know about that man," Mr. Darcy started.

  "It is no secret, Mr. Darcy, that you and Mr. Wickham are not on good terms with one another. However, I do hold respect for you. I would be interested to hear anything that you have to say."

  "Mr. Wickham is a scoundrel of the worst sort," Mr. Darcy blurted out, trying to keep his voice low. "And please believe me that I have significant reasons to worry and to recommend you to warn your brother in law about the danger of having him around.”

  Mr. Gardiner was silent for a moment. He was surprised by Mr. Darcy's urgency and honesty. "If the reason for your telling me this is that you have had some past misunderstandings, Mr. Darcy, then I-"

  "My reasons are far more deeply rooted than that," Mr. Darcy said. He quickly took a sip of his drink. He contemplated for a brief moment enlightening Mr. Gardiner of his affections and intentions towards Elizabeth. However, he decided against this. He had not made his intentions fully known to Elizabeth yet, and he felt that she should be the first to know of them. He chose instead to take the approach of honesty and sincerity. The truth about Wickham should be enough to prevent his association with any of the Bennet girls.

  "We were once very close friends, Wickham and I. In fact, we were the best of friends all through our childhood. Our friendship was the sort of friendship that brothers have. And my late father loved him dearly, too. I suppose he loved him as a son. And so, when my father passed, Mr. Wickham was bequeathed something quite significant. However, Mr. Wickham fell into wicked vices. He quickly gambled away all that was bequeathed to him. And then he returned demanding more from me. It was a most unpleasant situation, as I'm sure you can ascertain. I was quick to see the folly of his ways, and furious at his demands. I saw him for what he had become. He was only using me, and had no proper gentlemanly intentions. I'm afraid that our friendship was deeply affected by his actions, and we have not spoken directly since."