So Long, Sentiment

by Amber Allen-King

  • • •

  "Oh, Jane!" Olivia hugged her tightly again. "I am so very happy for you! You must tell me everything! I knew the moment I left town something important would happen!" Mrs. Gardiner urged both ladies to sit as she rang for tea. Olivia had just returned to town after a month in Bath with her elderly aunt, and she was eager to get caught up on the latest gossip, none more important than Jane's engagement to Mr. Bingley.

  "Have you written to Lizzy? I am sure she will be ecstatic!" Olivia's joy did not afford Jane much opportunity to tell her tale, so it was some time before all the details had been revealed.

  "Of course, Mr. Bingley has yet to ask for my father's permission, but he plans to return to Hertfordshire in a week to see him," Jane concluded.

  "Oh, Jane," Olivia gushed. "This is so wonderful! I am so glad that things finally worked out for the two of you. I cannot think of two more deserving people." Mrs. Gardiner looked up from her knitting and smiled, remembering Olivia and Elizabeth's role in bringing the union about. Eventually the conversation came back around to the subject of Elizabeth's response to the news.

  "I have not received her reply, but I expect one at any time. I was so excited I sent her the news by express!" Jane said with a laugh.

  "I have not heard from Lizzy since she was in Kent," Olivia said, "And that was more than two weeks ago. I supposed it to be because I was traveling myself, but I had expected a letter to be awaiting me here when I arrived home yesterday and there was none. It is unlike Lizzy not to respond to my letters promptly." Jane exchanged a glance with Mrs. Gardiner. She was uncertain what to say; she was not sure that Elizabeth would want her to tell Olivia about Mr. Darcy's proposal.

  "I am sure you will receive a letter soon." Jane dissembled. "Knowing Mama, she has kept Lizzy busy since her return to Longbourn and it will take her a while before she's back to her normal routine." Olivia knew that Jane was being evasive, but she didn't pursue the mater. Instead she launched into a conversation about wedding plans, and soon Elizabeth's tardy letter was no more than a nagging thought at the back of her mind.

  • • •

  Elizabeth was more than a little surprised to receive not one, but two expresses on the same morning. The first was from Jane, and she opened it with no small amount of trepidation. The news it contained made her weep with joy. She immediately grabbed her hat and pelisse and took a walk, the better to avoid her mother's curiosity. Fortunately for Elizabeth, her mother had gone into Meryton to see her sister, Mrs. Philips, but Elizabeth knew that she was due to return shortly. Her mother would be informed by one of the maids that a post had come for Elizabeth, and Mrs. Bennet would not rest until she had perused the missive for herself.

  Elizabeth sought the isolation of a sunlit meadow a short distance from Longbourn. Once she was alone, she sat down beneath a tree to savor every detail of Jane's letter. When she had read it through twice, she put it down and turned her attention to the small parcel in her lap. It bore no distinctive markings, but she recognized the hand immediately. Elizabeth hesitated. A lump rose in her throat and she found herself fighting tears. She could not imagine what the parcel held, but she was overwhelmed by a sense of foreboding.

  She picked up the parcel and Jane's letter and began to wander the meadow aimlessly, willing her heart to slow down. Finally, when she could bear the suspense no longer, Elizabeth sat on a cropping of rocks near a stream and tore open the package. Inside, carefully wrapped in a man's linen handkerchief, Elizabeth found her grandmother's Sterling silver vial that she thought she had lost months ago in London. How had it come into Mr. Darcy's possession? With trembling hands she unfolded the letter that accompanied it. Elizabeth carefully opened the letter and began to read its contents. The first paragraph was written in Mr. Darcy's impeccable hand, as was the letter she had received from him in Hunsford.

  Dear Miss Bennet, I can only imagine that given the circumstances of our last two meetings you would wish never to see or hear of me again. I must beg your indulgence as I perform this one last service on your behalf. The enclosed item, I believe, belongs to you. It has a patina of age, which suggests that it must be an object of great sentimental value to you. My dear mother carried such a vial, a legacy of her own mother. She was rarely without it. I hope that its absence did not cause you much anguish and I hope its safe return gives you comfort.

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Elizabeth sighed deeply and read on, for the letter continued. From this point, however, the penmanship was careless, written in a manner that bespoke great agitation. Elizabeth could only wonder what was going through his mind as he wrote his next words.

  I must...Please Eliz Miss Bennet, I must exploit this final opportunity to communicate with you to offer an apology for my abominable behavior in Hunsford. I neither expect nor deserve an apology. But I must (the next few words were crossed out so as to render them unreadable)...I wish only to say what I might have said in the letter that I gave you that last morning. That letter was written too hastily; the full weight of my pain and anger at your rejection clouded my judgment and I have learned to regret the bitterness with which I attempted to explain my actions. I wrote to defend myself when I might have begged your forgiveness. I was thinking only of myself then, but since that time I have thought only of you. At first I was determined to forget you and went to great effort, without success, to drive you from my mind. After a time I was able to look beyond my own pain to understand the pain unintentionally inflicted upon you by my arrogant and pretentious behavior. You have done me a kindness, madam, in your unmerciful condemnation of my character. I have learned much in these last two weeks, Miss Bennet, and can now appreciate the truth of your words.

  Her curiosity aroused Elizabeth paused, and removed her bonnet. Carelessly tossing it aside, she picked up the letter and began to read anew. Mr. Darcy's penmanship was once again steady and deliberate. Much thought and effort went into what came next.

  I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I am not certain when it happened, perhaps when you were at Netherfield attending your sister in her time of illness, perhaps even earlier. You must understand that I had been acquainted with you some weeks before I truly allowed myself to see you, to look beyond the barriers I myself had imposed between us. Those barriers blinded me to all that I have since come to love and cherish about you. I am sorry if my declarations upset you, but I must speak plainly, as I should have done earlier. Perhaps if I had...

  "Lizzy!" Elizabeth started, then hastily refolded the letter and stuffed it into her pelisse as her sister Lydia approached. Elizabeth rose to her feet, secreted the parcel in her pocket and reached for her bonnet as Lydia arrived at her side.

  "Lord, Lizzy! I have been calling you these last five minutes. Did you not hear me?"

  "I am sorry, Lydia. No, I am afraid I was quite distracted," Elizabeth replied, trying to compose herself. Her emotions were in a jumble and she wanted nothing more than for Lydia to disappear so that she could return to her reading of Mr. Darcy's letter.

  "I have been sent to look for you. I have the most wonderful surprise!" Lydia giggled in that manner that so often infuriated her elder sister. Elizabeth was not interested in surprises and her impatience showed.

  "Well? What is it?" she snapped. Lydia's smile immediately disappeared.

  "If you are going to take that tone, Lizzy, I may decide not to tell you about it after all," she said coyly. Elizabeth grew more perverse.

  "Do not tell me then," she said, plopping back down upon the rock. "I am sure that I can endure the loss." Elizabeth looked away from Lydia, hoping the girl would take the hint and leave.

  "Very well, then, Miss Lizzy," Lydia said sweetly, knowing that she held the upper hand. "I will simply tell Jane and Olivia that you do not want to see them." She turned and started back toward the house. But Elizabeth immediately rose, silently mouthed the names, and much to her sister's surprise, took off toward Longbourn as fast as her legs could carry her.

&nbs
p; • • •

  "Married! When did that happen?" asked a surprised Colonel Fitzwilliam as he took a seat in Mr. Darcy's study.

  "Just a few days ago. I had it from Bingley himself. He asked me to call upon him when I returned to London and gave me the news." Mr. Darcy poured out two glasses of port and offered one to his cousin.

  "This is good news, indeed," the Colonel replied, thinking of how Miss Crenshaw would react. It had been months since he'd seen her, although he had been able to hear news of her now and again through her brother. The Colonel intended to remedy that as soon as he returned to London. "When is the happy event to take place?"

  "I do not know yet. Bingley--or rather Miss Bennet--has yet to decide on a date. I expect they will send out invitations when they have decided," Mr. Darcy said, somewhat absently. His mind appeared to be elsewhere.

  "And do you approve of the match?" the Colonel asked, trying to divine the source of his distraction.

  "Why should I disapprove? Jane Bennet is a lovely girl, and she and Bingley should make each other very happy." Mr. Darcy seemed a bit affronted by the question, and he felt a twinge of guilt as the Colonel pursued his point.

  "I heard it said somewhere that you had objections to the lady," he said mildly, recalling the day he blew up at his cousin when he learned of his interference in his friend's romance.

  "Perhaps I did at one point, but I was wrong about Miss Bennet and I was wrong to try to influence Bingley's opinion of her." The Colonel's shock at this declaration barely registered on the outside, but the Colonel tried to decipher a curious mix of clues in his mind that did not quite add up. Not yet.

  "Speaking of happy events, when are you going to propose to Miss Crenshaw?" Mr. Darcy said, abruptly turning the tables on his cousin.

  "Propose?" the Colonel managed to choke out. "What makes you think I was considering proposing?" It was Mr. Darcy's turn to consider the evidence. He came out from behind his desk to sit in a chair opposite Colonel Fitzwilliam's.

  "Oh, come, man! You spoke of little else in Kent!" Mr. Darcy laughed.

  "I may have spoken of Miss Crenshaw, but I do not recall saying anything about marriage."

  "Well, why else does a man unceasingly bring up the name of a woman in every conversation, day, evening, over tea, out walking..."

  "Speaking of unceasing devotion, have you given any thought to what you are going to do about Miss Bennet?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, as he rose and went to tend the fire. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he knew, in spite of his cousin's superficially cheerful demeanor, that the matter still weighed heavily on his heart. The Colonel, for one, believed that the issue was far from resolved. His cousin and Miss Bennet were far from being through with one another.

  "Do about it? There is nothing to be done about it! I have lost her forever, Fitzwilliam. There is nothing left to do," Mr. Darcy replied dejectedly. "I made a complete ass of myself, Fitzwilliam. I went to her with every confidence that she was expecting my advances, that she wanted me as much as I did her." He stopped mid-stride, recalling his confrontation with Elizabeth. "I declared my love for her in a manner that no sensible woman would have accepted. I made plain my disdain for her relations, I reminded her of her social inferiority, and told her that I loved her in spite of these faults. In short, I did everything possible to make it perfectly reasonable that she would not only refuse my offer of marriage but never admit me into her presence again!" Drained by the effort of his confession, Mr. Darcy threw himself into the nearest chair and drained his glass. The Colonel stood and turned to his cousin; the façade that Mr. Darcy had so carefully constructed to greet him on his arrival had crumbled to dust. Mr. Darcy was a pitiable creature and the Colonel bit back the words that had come unbidden to his tongue. He knew that his cousin was penitent; his own rebuke was superfluous.

  "You will attend Bingley's wedding?" he asked gently.

  "Of course! I am to be his--." Mr. Darcy covered his face with his hands. "Good lord! I had not thought about that."

  "Meeting Miss Bennet again is inevitable, Darcy. I daresay that as long as you and Bingley are friends and the Miss Bennets are sisters, it will be impossible to avoid seeing her."

  • • •

  "Lizzy!" Olivia and Jane shouted in unison, as the breathless lady made her appearance. A flurry of greetings, hugs, and exclamations of surprise ensued, and it was nearly five minutes before things settled. Mrs. Bennet bustled about, greeting her daughter and making preparations for her unexpected houseguest. Elizabeth wanted to ask a million questions but she thought it best to wait until her mother had left the room.

  "Jane! I only received your express this morning! You made no mention of planning to return to Hertfordshire," she said, as soon as her mother had gone to the kitchen to order a special dinner.

  "Did you really expect me to allow Mr. Bingley to face Mama all alone?" Jane laughed, as she took a seat next to her dearest sibling.

  "Mr. Bingley is coming?" gushed Lydia, whose presence had been temporarily forgotten.

  Elizabeth cast her sister a worried glance.

  "Yes, Lydia. Mr. Bingley is returning to Netherfield," Jane said calmly. She knew she would have to speak with her mother before Lydia spread this intelligence across the county. Mrs. Bennet reentered the room, and before Jane could open her mouth, Lydia cried out the news.

  "Mr. Bingley returning to Longbourn!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "This is a complement to you, Jane, I am sure. Did you see him in town? You never mentioned him in your letters, you sly thing, but I know you must have seen him. And now he is determined to follow you back to Hertfordshire and claim you as his bride. Oooh! I'm certain of it. Mark my words he will be at your father's door begging for your hand within a fortnight." Elizabeth looked at Jane and sighed. Olivia, who had been watching the proceedings with great interest, attempted to suppress an urge to laugh.

  "Mama, Mr. Bingley will be here on Friday to ask for my hand. He has already proposed and I have already accepted him," Jane said patiently.

  "On Friday, you say? Oh, but you should have told me before, Jane! There's so much to be done. I will have to see to the meal and have Cook prepare all of Mr. Bingley's favorite dishes. I must have Hill go up to the attic and find my best linens, for you know, I had them put away for the summer since we do not entertain so very often in warm weather at Longbourn. Oh! Lady Lucas will be quite put out! And I must tell Mrs. Phillips," she said wandering out of the room, her brain awhirl with plans and schemes. "And you must have a special license! Five thousand a year..." Mrs. Bennet's voice trailed off as she mounted the stairs. Olivia burst out laughing. Mrs. Bennet's outburst was even more entertaining than Jane had predicted to her. Elizabeth just shook her head.

  "Jane, are you sure that was wise? By the time poor Mr. Bingley arrives--."

  "By the time he arrives, she will have calmed down a bit," Jane said. But Elizabeth, rolling her eyes, feared that by the time Mr. Bingley arrived, her mother would be even more excited than she was at present. She told Jane so, but Jane shrugged her shoulders.

  "I did warn him, Lizzy. He will have to put up with her after we are married, so he shall have to get used to it sometime," she replied with a laugh.

  Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice pierced the air with cries of "Jane! Jane!" and the eldest Bennet sister reluctantly rose and left the room. Olivia moved to the spot Jane had vacated and took Elizabeth's hands.

  "Dear Livy," Elizabeth said, "It is so good to see you again." Olivia looked deep into Elizabeth's eyes, and although she wanted to turn away, Elizabeth knew that Olivia was not to be evaded. She wasted no time in getting to the point.

  "I persuaded Jane to come home a few days early because I was worried about you. You did not respond to my last two letters. Is there something wrong?" Elizabeth knew that the conversation that must ensue could not take place inside the house, and certainly not while Lydia was still lurking about.

  "I am fine, Livy," she said with a look in her eye that forestalled
Olivia's inevitable rebuttal. "But I want to hear about you. How was your time in Bath?" Elizabeth asked, quickly changing the subject.

  "Oh, Bath was tedious. A Mr. Eliot pursued me without cease, but --."

  "Really? Was he very handsome?" Lydia had thrown aside her pretense of trimming a hat to cross the room and join the conversation. Olivia looked askance at the interloper.

  "...But," Olivia continued, "He seemed to be far more interested in the size of my dowry and my grandmother's inheritance gift than in my person," Olivia said with a sidelong glance at Lydia, who became even more interested.

  "And you were far more interested in a certain Colonel than in a penniless rake," Elizabeth laughed. Lydia's eye grew wide.

  "A colonel! Oh, I do love a man in uniform! I hope your colonel is young and handsome, not stodgy and old like that Colonel Forster." Elizabeth could not resist a smirk.

  "You had better act fast to secure your Colonel Fitzwilliam before Lydia gets hold of him," she said. Her mother's voice cried out for Lydia upstairs and she responded to the summons even more reluctantly than Jane did.

  "Let us make our escape," said Elizabeth, and the two ladies made their way into the garden furthest away from the house. They linked arms and strolled to a bench beneath a tree, where they sat down to talk.

  "Now that I have you to myself," Olivia began, "Tell me the truth, Lizzy, how are you?"

  "I am well, Livy," Elizabeth replied unconvincingly.

  "You have dark circles under your eyes, your face is pale and your eyes have lost their sparkle." Olivia's critique was ruthless and unstinting. "You have been biting your nails, and unless I am greatly mistaken, you have been crying recently." Actually she did not know this to be fact, but it seemed to fit with Elizabeth's overall appearance. Elizabeth looked a way, a silently acknowledging all of which she had been accused. "Lizzy, what has happened?" Elizabeth remained mute, unable to begin. "Has this anything to do with that letter I saw you pull from your breast and crumble into your pocket when you came into the house?" Olivia said mildly, but there was a glint of triumph in her eyes. Elizabeth had to laugh at her friend's accurate assessment. She rose and paced in front of the bench.