by Lori Light
What did he think of the attention she had received from his friend, Mr. Wortham? Elizabeth wondered. She had spent quite a bit of time with Mr. Wortham lately, and although there was no formal courtship, she was fairly certain of his intentions. He had hinted at marriage on several occasions. She thought he might propose soon and she was also fairly certain that her response would be yes – should be yes. Elizabeth had always insisted that she would only marry for love. Did she love Mr. Wortham? Certainly, she must. After all, Mr. Wortham was a very amiable man. He was intelligent and witty, and Elizabeth enjoyed his company. He was clearly able to offer her a fine living and he seemed unconcerned about her lack of dowry and connections. So why was she walking with Mr. Darcy, and why was her heart beating so? Of course, she reminded herself, she was only walking with him to give her the opportunity to apologize, both for her sister’s thoughtless words and for her own behavior at Rosings. At the time of the ball, she had not thought to apologize. She had not been ready to do so. After all, she had been justified in some of her accusations – He had separated Jane and Mr. Bingley. But then he had corrected his mistake soon after learning of Jane’s true feelings. Her accusations about his treatment of Wickham were unjust, but they were based on false information. His misgivings about her family, she had to admit were justified, although it was unmannerly of him to mention them. And he had admitted to caring for her against his will, against his reason, and even against his character! Regardless, he did admit that he loved her. “Most ardently,” he had said! How could she have been so cruel after he had admitted such affection? She blushed in shame as she remembered her words, “I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!” Oh, but she must apologize. She opened her mouth to do so when she heard his words.
“Miss Bennet, I have long wished for the opportunity to apologize to you.”
He was apologizing? But it was I who had been cruel, Elizabeth thought.
“I was a fool to have said those things to you,” he continued. “An arrogant and conceited fool! Can you ever forgive me?”
“Mr. Darcy, it is I who should ask your forgiveness, and I was just gathering the courage to do so when you spoke. I have long been ashamed of my words to you. I was very wrong.”
“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behavior to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
“The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility. Can we not be friends, Mr. Darcy?”
Friends, Darcy thought to himself. No, Elizabeth, it is not your friendship that I desire. But at least it is more than I expected, and it is all that I might hope for. Aloud he said, “I would be honored.”
Elizabeth smiled. If Darcy ever thought he could forget Elizabeth, it was clear now that he could not. But soon she would belong to another. How could he bear it? The two walked along in silence until Elizabeth spotted some wildflowers growing along the path.
“Oh, look!” she said. “Those are the first asters I have seen this season. In all the area, they only grow on Oakham Mount. I love coming here in the late summer and autumn to pick bouquets. When I was little I would walk here with my grandmother. They were her favorite flowers. After she got sick I would bring her bouquets. She said they always made her feel stronger! She passed away when I was but twelve. I miss her terribly!”
“What was she like?” Darcy asked.
“I was always told that I favor her. She was my father’s mother. I think it was from her, as well as from my father, that I learned to love books. And to go for walks, too, I suppose.” Elizabeth smiled up at Darcy. “Grandmother could walk for miles. She knew every path in the area. We would walk together for hours and we would talk and talk. But she was also very elegant. Unlike me, she always managed to stay neat and clean on our walks!” Elizabeth laughed. “I’m not sure how she did it!”
Darcy smiled as he recalled Elizabeth’s appearance after she had walked three miles to check on Jane, who had been sick at Netherfield. Her petticoats were six inches deep in mud, yet Darcy had never seen such strength, compassion and beauty combined. He had been bewitched. “Did your sisters walk with you as well?” he asked.
“Jane did sometimes. The others were too young, I suppose, to appreciate long walks. My youngest sisters remember little of our grandmother.”
Perhaps it was the grandmother’s influence, Darcy reflected, that made Jane and Elizabeth so different from their younger sisters.
Darcy joined Elizabeth in picking flowers and, gathering them into a tidy bouquet, added them to her collection. Elizabeth delighted in the flowers, and Darcy delighted in her enjoyment. Elizabeth looked up and noticed Darcy’s smile and her heart jumped. Feeling her color increase, she quickly looked down at the flowers, dreading lest he notice. How is it that his behavior is so altered? She wondered if his affection and wishes were unshaken. Did she wish it to be so? Immediately, she was enraged against herself for being so silly! A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings, especially when the woman was so abominably rude in her refusal! Was that only four months ago? Besides, my mind is set on Mr. Wortham, is it not? Or rather my heart is set, she corrected herself. Elizabeth dared not lift her eyes again. Striving to be composed, she said, “Perhaps we should join the others.”
“Yes, we should,” Darcy replied, offering his arm. Yet, joining the others was the last thing in the world he wanted to do! Or perhaps we should stay here long enough to draw suspicion and you would be forced to marry me, he mused. He sighed quietly. Or, more likely, Wortham would challenge me to a duel!
As they left the small copse of trees, they both saw Wortham approach. Elizabeth felt strangely ill at ease holding Mr. Darcy’s arm with Wortham approaching. Yet, if she dropped it, Wortham was sure to offer his own, which would make her still more uncomfortable with Mr. Darcy so near. Why should I feel so, she asked herself. Feigning the need to hold onto her skirt as if to keep it clean along the dirt path, she passed the bouquet to her other hand, dropping Mr. Darcy’s arm in the process. Now that she was not in position to accept assistance from either gentleman, her confidence returned.
“There you are!” Wortham called to Elizabeth. “Come, we are about to begin a game of charades,” he said as he reached the couple.
“How delightful!” Elizabeth answered with a smile. In truth, she felt a great need for a solitary walk to clear her head; she had very little expectation of pleasure in the game. Her thoughts were so confused as to make her a very poor player indeed. Wortham remained by her side for the remainder of the afternoon. He was as agreeable as ever. His ease in keeping up a conversation, even with the frenzied solicitudes of Mrs. Bennet or with the silliness of the youngest Bennet sisters was admirable. No one could have overlooked his attentions toward Elizabeth. She knew, rather than felt, the gratitude that the attention of such a man should arouse.
Chapter 13
The following days were torturous for Darcy. Wortham’s attentions to Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, were clear and his pursuit seemed to increase each day. On the morning after the picnic, as Darcy occupied himself with writing letters of business in Bingley’s library, Wortham accompanied Bingley to Longbourn. Darcy’s heart sunk as he stood at the library window watching his friends ride away from Netherfield. Soon Wortham would be listening to Elizabeth’s laughter. Darcy longed to be there too. But he knew that, under the circumstances, his presence would not be welcome to any of the parties concerned.
It was inevitable that Elizabeth would soon be engaged. The best he could hope for would be that the proposal would tak
e place sometime after Bingley’s wedding, after Darcy had returned to Pemberley. Perhaps at such a distance, Darcy would not be reminded at every turn that Elizabeth belonged to someone else. If the engagement was announced before Bingley’s wedding, Darcy did not know how he could bear it. To stand at the altar next to Bingley just across the aisle from Elizabeth – an engaged Elizabeth – would be torture.
Darcy retreated to his room and walked to his bedside table. Opening the small drawer, he reached under some papers and withdrew Elizabeth’s handkerchief. The initials E.B. were embroidered just below a delicate bouquet of small purple flowers. Asters, Darcy realized. Looking at them made him think of their walk together at the picnic. Elizabeth had not told anyone of his proposal, and once again he realized what an extraordinary woman she was. She had recognized his embarrassment and sought to give him solace. Cleverly, she had offered him the handkerchief to excuse her following after him. He had a feeling that this woman would continue to occupy his thoughts and dreams for a very long time.
He brought the handkerchief to his face and breathed deeply. Did it truly smell of the lavender scent Elizabeth was so fond of wearing or was it his imagination? Whether real or imagined, the scent seemed to have a calming effect. With renewed determination, he regained his composure and returned to Bingley’s study, diving into the many business matters that had followed him from Pemberley. By the time his friends returned, a stack of business letters sat in the corner of the desk, sealed and ready to be posted.
Chapter 14
The wedding took place on Saturday. The small church was decorated with candles, lace and bouquets of flowers, and was filled to capacity by friends and relatives of the bride and groom. At the front, Bingley smiled nervously, waiting for his bride. Beside him, Darcy stood stoically, his face a mask. Behind this serious façade, Darcy was anything but calm. How he wished that this was his own wedding – that when Elizabeth walked down the aisle it would be as his bride, not as her sister’s maiden of honor. But that would never be!
That morning, Wortham had implied that there would soon be another wedding. Wortham seemed to wait for congratulations, but none were forthcoming from Darcy. “So, the lady has accepted your proposal?” he had asked, trying to appear unaffected.
“I have not yet proposed. I thought I would wait until after Bingley’s big day. It would be bad form to steal the attention from Bingley and his bride!”
“Right,” Darcy had replied. He had felt sick. Immediately he began silent plans for his removal from Netherfield.
Now, standing at the altar, he could see Wortham’s smiling face, so sure of his beloved’s affection. I will get through this day, Darcy told himself. Tomorrow, I will leave Hertfordshire and I will see her no more!
From her place in the fourth pew, Georgiana studied her brother. She recognized the melancholic expression. She had long suspected that he had affections for Elizabeth. Why did he not pursue her? Yes, Mr. Wortham’s attentions were clear, but Elizabeth was not yet engaged. They were not even formally courting! Mr. Wortham had arrived in Hertfordshire only a short while before she and her brother had. Perhaps they had some sort of gentleman’s agreement. But her brother knew Elizabeth even before Wortham had met her! She recalled that his letters frequently mentioned her. Darcy had explained how Elizabeth had walked three miles in the mud to care for her sister after she had fallen ill at Netherfield. Between the lines, Georgiana had read affection as he humorously described Elizabeth’s responses to Miss Bingley’s barbs. Again in the spring, her brother had been reunited with Elizabeth at Rosings. He had written of her forbearance with Aunt Catherine, her sauciness tempered with sweetness. If anyone had a prior claim, it was her brother! But why would he not act upon his obvious regard, before Mr. Wortham’s pursuit had become so obvious.
Besides, Georgiana was not so sure that Mr. Wortham had won Elizabeth’s heart. She had asked Elizabeth outright a few days before. It had taken all the courage that Georgiana could muster, but she had asked. Elizabeth had smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. She had stumbled over her reply, muttering something about Mr. Wortham being an honorable man and all that could be asked for in a husband, but finally stammering out “I’m…I’m not sure.” So, her brother still had a chance! If only he would take it!
Finally, the lady who was occupying the thoughts of both Darcys appeared at the door of the church, just ahead of her sister, who held her father’s arm. Later, all of Meryton would proclaim Jane’s loveliness. But several in attendance had their eyes focused only on the next younger sister. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was radiant. Both Darcy and Wortham were mesmerized. However, the outward response of the two men could not have been more different. Wortham smiled broadly, whereas Darcy looked absolutely desolate.
After the wedding, all in attendance returned to Longbourn for the wedding breakfast. Mrs. Bennet had outdone herself. The house was elegantly decorated, and the food was excellent. More than one of her neighbors complimented the affair, telling her it was worthy of the finest circles. Darcy had to admit that Mrs. Bennet could be an excellent hostess. Even the youngest Bennet sisters were surprisingly pleasant. Over the past days, Darcy had noticed Mr. Bennet giving serous looks to both Kitty and Lydia, both of whom settled down immediately upon noticing his expression. Darcy wondered what had occurred to bring about such a change - both in the attention of the father, and in the decorum of the girls. Darcy could not have known about Lydia’s foiled plans in Brighton, nor of the changes that had occurred at Longbourn as a result.
Jane, as the center of attention, blossomed. “Oh, Elizabeth,” Darcy heard her as she spoke to her favorite sister. “I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” she cried. “If I could but see you as happy!”
To this Elizabeth replied, “I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I can never have your happiness.” With an impudent grin, she whispered to Jane, “No, no, let me shift for myself; and perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time” and both sisters chuckled softly.
“Be serious, Elizabeth! Surely, it will be your turn soon,” Jane said as she glanced across the room to where Wortham stood. Elizabeth blushed and looked down at the drink in her hand.
Darcy turned and walked away before the sisters could notice his presence. It was true, he thought. Wortham’s proposal could come as early as the morrow. Elizabeth would marry. Given his connections with the Bingleys and Wortham’s circle, it would be impossible to avoid her company. How could he face her, knowing she was the wife of another man? Darcy wanted to leave Longbourn and escape from the area immediately, but he knew his sister would be disappointed to leave before the appointed time, and he knew his absence would be interpreted as arrogance. So he continued to wander among the guests. Although his mood did not allow him to truly join in any discussions, at least he responded politely to any comments directed toward him and offered congratulations where they were due.
At the appropriate time, he was called by his duty as the best man to offer a toast to the happy couple. Having spent time with Mr. Bennet during the weeks before the wedding, Darcy had come to appreciate the man’s humor and had requested permission to borrow his words for the toast: “To my dear friend, Charles Bingley and his lovely bride. I wish you the great happiness you deserve. To quote your new father-in-law, Bingley, I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income.” Darcy smiled quietly as the room erupted in laughter, and Jane and Bingley feigned indignation. When all was quiet again, Darcy resumed his more somber demeanor and continued. “In all seriousness, my dear friends: May God’s richest blessing be upon your marriage and may you always experience His joy!”
Elizabeth watched in wonder at Darcy’s change in c
ountenance during the toast. She had been surprised by his humor. He really was a handsome man when he smiled! With his more serious mien she was much more familiar. She had seen that expression many times. Yet more often than not, she had attributed it to pride and disdain. Now, combined with his tender words, she wondered if she had misinterpreted his expressions all along. The sounds of clinking glasses and cries of “here, here” brought her out of her reverie.
Soon it was time for the newlyweds to depart. The guests were joined by what seem to be the entire village, throwing flower petals in celebration, while the couple made their way to the awaiting carriage. With Jane and Bingley waving to their loved ones, the carriage pulled away. They were to make their way to Bingley’s home in London, where they would spend a few days before leaving for their wedding trip.
Chapter 15
A wedding always has a cheering effect for those who witness it. In celebrating a new marriage, all thoughts either sober or mundane are set side. For all the guests except Darcy, this seemed to be the case. For one of the Longbourn tenants this was especially, and unfortunately, true. While seeing the carriage away, a young boy who had been tasked with burning some debris, left his post to see to the excitement. In his short absence, a burning ember ignited some nearby grass. Before long, the barn had caught fire, its billowing smoke visible from the manor house at Longbourn.