"Oh, it was really nothing important," she dodged, unwilling to tell the whole story in Mr. Darcy's presence. Invoking Mr. Fowler's name under the present circumstances was out of the question. "I failed to inform my mother of Olivia's invitation and she was quite put out when I left." Olivia looked at Elizabeth and knew that there was more to the story. But she chose not to press the matter.
"So both you and Mr. Darcy were delayed by the untimely intervention of a mother," Olivia suggested. The Colonel nudged her lightly.
"Hey there! You would do well to remember that one of those mothers you are speaking of is shortly to become your own."
"And I cannot wait," Olivia said with a loving look at the Colonel that made both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who were directly opposite the couple, smile.
"Have you met Lady Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked Olivia.
"Yes, we have been acquainted for years, however, it is only a formal acquaintance. I do so look forward to getting to know the Colonel's family. He says that we shall all get along famously," Olivia said with another smile meant only for the Colonel's eyes.
"You are already well liked by the part of the family that has come to know you, Miss Crenshaw, and Aunt Rebecca is well disposed to think very highly of you," Mr. Darcy said graciously. "But then, she would be disposed to like anyone who would condescend to marry her youngest," he added with a smirk for his cousin. Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy strangely. She was surprised by his open and easy manners, which she had last witnessed in the spring. His good humor lasted throughout the dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy, and Richard Crenshaw exchanged stories about their childhood pranks and the trouble they often got into. Never had Elizabeth enjoyed herself so much in Mr. Darcy's company. She found herself hoping that the evening was not some figment of her imagination, or a cruel dream. The meal was over too soon for Elizabeth, and the men retreated to the library for port. Olivia grabbed the Colonel by the arm as he headed for the door.
"I beg of you, Richard. Do not allow father to cajole you into staying in there half the night. Things are going well for them, and I do not want to see them separated for too long." The Colonel solemnly promised to bring the men back in record time, extracted a kiss from his fiancée in payment, and with a wink for the other ladies, disappeared.
"What was that all about?" Elise wondered aloud as the ladies retired to the parlor.
"Oh, nothing," Olivia said airily, as she led the way into the room. Elise, of course, was too wise in the ways of the world to believe her. She had been closely observing Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy since their arrival and had already come to a few conclusions. She also strongly suspected that Olivia and the Colonel were inexplicably trying to orchestrate the courtship of the other pair, though they seemed to be in no need of assistance. Elise looked at Elizabeth, who looked as radiant and happy as she was pale and miserable when she saw her that morning. There was a mystery here, and it had something to do with Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Fowler.
"Miss Bennet," asked, Elise. "Have you known Mr. Darcy very long?"
"We met not quite a year ago," Elizabeth replied.
"And he is a friend of Mr. Fowler's is he not? I believe I heard Mr. Fowler mention Mr. Darcy's name this morning," Elise maintained. Elizabeth's sigh told her all she needed, but Elizabeth spoke nonetheless.
"I believe the two men were at Cambridge together." Olivia, fearing that the men might return at any moment, steered the subject away from Mr. Fowler.
"I met Mr. Darcy in the park this afternoon, Lizzy, quite by accident," she said with a gleam in her eye. "He, the Colonel, and I got to reminiscing about that day in the park last March." Elizabeth's face registered her surprise.
"Elise, Lizzy and I can claim responsibility for Jane and Mr. Bingley's engagement," Olivia continued. "You see, they had had a misunderstanding and Lizzy and I decided to--."
"You decided!" Elizabeth cried, shaking her head in denial.
"We decided to go and give Mr. Bingley a piece of our minds."
"Dear me!" said Elise. "What happened?"
"I got lost, Mr. Darcy got injured, and Mr. Bingley actually came to my rescue, quite by accident," declared Elizabeth through her laughter.
"Strange--that is how my intended remembers it," Olivia murmured.
"Is that not what happened?" asked Elise.
"I prefer to remember that before the day was out, Mr. Bingley and Jane had been reunited," Olivia sniffed.
"How did Mr. Darcy get injured?" Elise asked.
"He walked into a tree while staring at Lizzy," Olivia said simply.
"Livy!" Elizabeth cried.
"It is true. I saw him...well, I practically saw him. One moment he was walking ahead of me; I looked away for a second, and when I looked back, he was on the ground calling out her name."
"Livy!" Elizabeth gasped as she colored. At precisely that moment the door opened and the men entered the room. Olivia and Elizabeth exchanged a glance, each hoping the men had not heard their topic of conversation. As the men came in, Edward sought a position from which he might observe Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. His curiosity about the pair had been piqued by Elizabeth's cryptic comment at the Gardiners' a week earlier and he was determined to learn the truth. After coffee was poured and the group exchanged small talk, the card table was pulled out and all the Crenshaw men and Mr. Douglass played at whist, while Elise asked Richard and Olivia about their plans for settling down. Elizabeth sat a little aloof from the trio, and Mr. Darcy came to sit beside her as Edward discreetly observed the pair.
"You do not play at cards tonight, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked by way of an opening.
"I have not the mind for cards tonight, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy replied. He hesitated a moment. "I must apologize, Miss Bennet, for breaking my promise to call upon you this morning."
"Nay, sir, it is entirely my fault," Elizabeth replied in a low voice. "I am the one who prevented you. I must confess," she said sheepishly," I sat this morning in constant fear of your appearance."
"Would it have been so awful if I had come?" Mr. Darcy asked softly. Elizabeth blushed.
"I...I am afraid there has been a dreadful misunderstanding--."
"About the handkerchief, yes, Bingley mentioned it to me." Elizabeth blushed even more deeply. What had Jane written to Mr. Bingley? Elizabeth thought that she should try to explain what happened.
"Yes. When you were so kind as to return my grandmother's perfume vial--."
"Then I was correct in thinking it an heirloom?" Mr. Darcy asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth said softly. "It was left to me by Grandmother Bennet, whom I was named for. I had opened the parcel and was about to read your note when I was interrupted. I stuffed the handkerchief, along with the letter under the bedding. When Mama had my bed turned out last week, she found the handkerchief. I guess I forgot about it," Elizabeth lied. She was not ready to confess that she had slept for the past month with Mr. Darcy's handkerchief under her pillow, or that he had played a prominent role in every dream she had had since she left Kent. She stole a glance at Mr. Darcy, who looked worried.
"And the note? Your mother--." Elizabeth quickly reassured him that her mother had not found the note.
"But you did not read it," he said in a whisper. Had Elizabeth found the courage to look into his eyes, the sadness in them would have broken her heart.
"I did read it, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth whispered back, her eyes lowered so that Mr. Darcy could only see her lashes resting upon her rosy cheeks. "And I have preserved it in a secure place." Mr. Darcy was silent for a minute as he repeated over and over in his head her last words. She had read his letter! What is more, she had deemed it worthy of saving, worthy of a second reading. He would only allow himself to draw one happy conclusion: he had been forgiven. Elizabeth had cared enough to hear him out, and when she had done, she had cared enough to respect, if not reciprocate, his feelings. Mr. Darcy was rendered mute by a rush of thoughts that momentarily overwhelmed his senses. Elizabeth watched him, wonder
ing what was going through his head. She glanced across the room and realized that she and Mr. Darcy were being observed, not only by Olivia and Colonel Fitzwilliam, but also by Elise and Edward. Elizabeth squirmed under the scrutiny, startling Mr. Darcy out of his reverie, and he, too, became discomfited by the earnest gaze of four pairs of eyes.
Olivia decided to relieve the tension by opening the pianoforte and asking Elizabeth to play. Elizabeth, glad of the diversion, agreed with unaccustomed alacrity. Mr. Darcy sat spellbound as she performed a brief instrumental piece. When she had done, Mr. Darcy was caught off guard by the enthusiastic response of Mr. Douglass, who had been fairly quiet all evening. Elizabeth asked Mr. Douglass to join her in a second number, and Mr. Darcy tried to suppress a pang of jealousy as Mr. Douglass took command of the keyboard and played a lively duet. His rich tenor matched perfectly with her less polished but lovely voice. When the song was over, Mr. Darcy thought that he had lost Elizabeth's company for the remainder of the evening. But to his surprise, Mr. Douglass escorted Elizabeth back to her seat by Mr. Darcy and retreated.
"Are you unwell, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked. "You look upset," she said innocently. Mr. Darcy apologized and admitted to being deep in thought. "A parlor full of people enjoying an evening's entertainment is hardly a place to inspire deep thoughts, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said archly.
"Perhaps not," he replied, and broached an entirely new subject. "So are all men banished from your mother's presence while she is town?" Mr. Darcy tried to sound jocular and light, but knew that he was less than convincing.
"If it were up to me, yes. However, I seem to have little control over who comes to call upon my aunt and uncle," Elizabeth said, trying to match Mr. Darcy's tone.
"You managed to stop me easily enough," Mr. Darcy said a bit more harshly than he intended. Elizabeth reddened as she carefully responded.
"Yes. But I rarely have so persuasive an ambassador as Mr. Bingley at my disposal, nor can I credit many of my friends with being as solicitous and respectful of my wishes as you are, sir." Mr. Darcy seemed to be mollified, but Elizabeth hastily added, "It was not that I did not wish to see you, Mr. Darcy. I only wished to spare you the indignity of my mother's scrutiny."
"And did Mr. Fowler survive your mother's scrutiny?" Mr. Darcy asked before he could stop himself. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise.
"How did you...?"
"I met Fitzwilliam and Miss Crenshaw in the park. They told me that you and your sister were unable to join me there because Mr. Fowler had paid you a visit," Mr. Darcy said, as he eyes lowered to hide his shame. Elizabeth groaned inwardly, wishing that Mr. Darcy had not heard of Mr. Fowler's visit. This was the last thing they needed now! She sighed heavily and looked down.
"Mother took quite a liking to Mr. Fowler I am afraid," she said, a tiny smile forming on her lips. She looked deeply into Mr. Darcy's eyes so that there would be no further misunderstanding. "I was very glad she was there to entertain him." The clock struck the hour, and Elizabeth announced that she must leave.
"May I offer you a ride in my carriage?" Mr. Darcy asked, rising with her.
"My uncle has promised to send his own carriage for me, but I thank you." Elizabeth made her apologies to her hosts and bade everyone farewell. Mr. Darcy also took his leave of the Crenshaws and offered to escort Elizabeth to her uncle's carriage, which had pulled up outside the elegant townhouse. The couple stepped out into the cool night air.
"I suppose the Crenshaws will think us terribly rude. We barely spoke to anyone else this evening," Mr. Darcy said with a laugh.
"I very much doubt that they would be so severe upon us. The Crenshaws are dear friends to us both, according to what Colonel Fitzwilliam told me, and they know enough of our history to forgive our slight breech of etiquette," Elizabeth said as they made their way down the steps to the waiting carriage. The coachman stepped forward to open the door, but Mr. Darcy stayed him with a hand and he discretely retreated out of earshot.
"Miss Bennet, when will I see you again?" Elizabeth opened her mouth but had no ready answer. She did not yet know that she was to be invited to the Fitzwilliam's engagement dinner, but that was several days away yet, and Mr. Darcy was unwilling to wait that long to see her again.
"Will you not permit me to call on upon you in Gracechurch Street?"
"My mother...." Mr. Darcy shook his head. "She is likely to...." Mr. Darcy smiled and Elizabeth capitulated. "You may come, then, but do not say that you were not given fair warning." Elizabeth's eyes met Mr. Darcy's as he bent over her hand before helping her into her carriage. No more words were spoken. The pair just stared at each other for a moment, then Mr. Darcy stepped back and the carriage pulled away.
When Mr. Darcy reached his home, he headed straight to his study, summoning Mr. Harris as he went. The footman scurried off in search of the butler. A few moments later, Mr. Harris knocked on the study's door, which Mr. Darcy had left slightly ajar.
"Good evening, sir. I trust your dinner engagement was a pleasant one?"
"Yes, Mr. Harris, quite," Mr. Darcy said abstractedly as he put his seal to a note he had just written. "Uh, did you attend to the matter I asked you to earlier?"
"Yes sir. May I pour you a brandy, sir?"
"No, Mr. Harris. I have had a splendid evening and I do not want to dull my memory of it." Mr. Darcy pushed the note toward the front of the desk. "Have a footman take this around to Mr. Bingley first thing in the morning."
"Very good, sir. Will there be anything else this evening, sir?"
"No, old man. I think I will just select a good book, and them I am for my bed." Mr. Darcy rose and patted Mr. Harris on the shoulder as he walked past him toward the wall of mahogany bookshelves. Mr. Harris bowed and disappeared. A few minutes later, Mr. Darcy followed him out of the room and sought his rest.
Elizabeth arrived home to find her aunt and uncle in the parlor with her mother. Mrs. Bennet rose as she entered and immediately began to torment Elizabeth with descriptions of her evening with Mr. Fowler.
"Mr. Fowler was most disappointed that you were not here this evening. But I gave him my assurance that you would be home tomorrow when he promised to call again." Mrs. Bennet went on praising Mr. Fowler, describing the elegance of his attire, his wit and intelligence, and his taste in food, music, art, and theatre. Elizabeth looked at the Gardiners, who shrugged helplessly.
"Did you have a pleasant time at the Crenshaws', Lizzy?" Mr. Gardiner asked as soon as he found an opening. Before Elizabeth could say more than "yes," Mrs. Bennet assaulted her anew.
"I do not know why you spend so much time with the Crenshaws. They can do nothing for you, Lizzy."
"Mama! The Crenshaws are my friends, and the Gardiners' friends of many years!"
"Yes, yes, but we must think about the future, Lizzy. You are not getting any younger, you know. Even Charlotte Lucas found a husband, and she is six years older than you and very plain..." she prattled on. "Edward Crenshaw is younger than you, is he not?"
"Edward and I are the same age, and what does that have to do with--."
"Well, he is only a younger son, anyway. You can do much better."
"Mother! You do not really expect me to--."
"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet cried suddenly, "Yes, of course, there is Mr. Douglass. He is a bit more mature and very handsome. What is his income? No matter, I am sure that Mr. Fowler's income quite exceeds it. Lizzy, you would be a fool to settle for a lesser man, even if Mr. Douglass is so much more handsome. Mr. Fowler can hardly be called unattractive, mind you." Elizabeth glanced at her aunt and uncle once more. She started to speak, but her mother unceremoniously dismissed her to her bed, so that she would be in her best looks for Mr. Fowler in the morning. Elizabeth numbly ascended the stairs, and entered the bedroom where Jane was combing her hair.
"How was your evening with the Crenshaws?" she asked as Elizabeth flung herself on the bed.
"Did Mama really invite Mr. Fowler tomorrow?" she said, her eyes on the ceiling.
"How thoughtful of her," Elizabeth said bitterly. She sat up and began to undo her dress. "I wish I had stayed in Hertfordshire. I would never have heard of Mr. Fowler."
"Oh, he is not so bad, Lizzy, once you get to know him. His manners are quite pleasing and he has excellent opinions on music, art, and--."
"So does Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said as she tossed her dress on an empty chair. "Why did I not just take your advice and go talk to him at Netherfield? I would never have met Mr. Fowler, mother would never have found Mr. Darcy's handkerchief...and I would not be faced with the prospect of entertaining two men tomorrow morning." Elizabeth smiled ironically. "I hope it does not become a habit."
"Lizzy?" Elizabeth sat on the bed beside her sister.
"Mr. Darcy also dined at the Crenshaws this evening. Livy and the Colonel arranged it somehow." Jane leaned closer as Elizabeth became lost in the memory.
"And?" Jane demanded.
"And it would have been perfect had it not been for three things. First and foremost, the evening ended all too soon," Elizabeth said with a sly smile. "Second, Mama spoiled everything by inviting Mr. Fowler to return tomorrow."
"And the third?" Jane prodded, as she began to comb Elizabeth's hair.
"I am afraid that Mr. Darcy is rather jealous of his friend. He knew that Mr. Fowler had come this morning and he seemed very put out over it." Jane smiled impishly.
"Good! Maybe that is just the incentive he needs to declare himself!"
"Or just the incentive he needs to go running back to Derbyshire. Oh, Jane! This is all so maddening! This is a comedy of errors worthy of the Bard himself! How will it end?"
So Long, Sentiment Page 22