So Long, Sentiment

by Amber Allen-King

  "Yes, do come in, brother. Relieve me of this tedium." Mr. Bingley sat down on the only part of the bed not heaped with clothing.

  "You would not be subjected to this tedium if you stayed in London, Caroline," he said gently. Miss Bingley looked up at her brother for the first time. The tone in his voice had surprised her. She had not until that point considered that her brother Charles might miss her when she left. She shook off the notion, however, and resolutely began sorting once more. Mr. Bingley sat and watched for a moment, letting his eyes take in the wide array of ensembles that seemed to be randomly strewn about.

  "Good God, how long are you packing for Caroline?" he exclaimed. Instead of answering, his sister shot him a look of warning. Mr. Bingley was quiet for a moment, trying to assess his sister's mood. Realizing that there would be no good time to break his news, he decided to get it over with.

  "I have some news, Caroline. You may find it unpleasant..." Mr. Bingley sought the right words.

  "It concerns Mr. Darcy and Eliza Bennet, does it not?" she said without any show of emotion or concern.

  "Yes...yes it does," replied Mr. Bingley, frowning. "How did you know?"

  "He certainly wasted no time," Miss Bingley said, holding up a never-worn blue gown for inspection. Her eyes never saw the garment, however, as she discarded it without even looking up. After a moment, she stopped digging through the piles of clothing and sighed. "Mr. Darcy loves her. He will never love anyone else. He told me so." If Mr. Bingley was surprised by this revelation, he did not show it. He was too concerned for his sister's dull spirits.

  "Is that why you want to leave London?"

  "What is there for me to do here, Charles? Listen to my 'friends' snicker behind my back? Watch the two of you fawn and simper over your 'lovely' brides to be while I am made a laughing stock?" Miss Bingley did not deign to suppress the bitterness in her tone. She knew, however, that at least part of her anger was derived from self-reproach. She had failed miserably in her efforts to secure Mr. Darcy and her last desperate act had made the possibility of a civil relationship with Mr. Darcy nigh impossible.

  "You can come back to Netherfield with me. Let people in town laugh if they want to. I care nothing about that. I do not like the idea of you traveling across the Continent alone to your sister, and you insist on leaving without securing a suitable traveling companion. And I had hoped...I hoped to have at least one of my sisters by my side when Jane and I married...Please reconsider, Caroline--for me, if not for yourself," Mr. Bingley pleaded. Miss Bingley looked into her brother's eyes.

  "You do know that I was dead-set against your marriage to Jane Bennet and that I urged Mr. Darcy to interfere in your courtship?" she said, testing her brother's will.

  "'Remember the past only as it gives you pleasure,'" Mr. Bingley murmured to himself as a smile came to his lips. Aloud he said, "You are my sister; no matter what you have done, you are priceless and irreplaceable to me. You will come to Netherfield and sit by my side at my wedding breakfast." Miss Bingley hugged her brother to her heart and took comfort in his staunch defense. She turned to look at the mess behind her.

  "I suppose I have to have all of this put away, then," Miss Bingley laughed.

  "All but one, my dear," Mr. Bingley said, picking up an elegant evening gown of gold silk. "You are going to a dinner tomorrow night at Mr. Darcy's townhouse."

  • • •

  As soon as it was possible to do so, Olivia and Jane extricated Elizabeth from the clutches of her ecstatic mother, and led her, much as Mr. Darcy had earlier, to the relative seclusion of Mr. Gardiner's study.

  "Please, you must promise me that you will not ask me anything about Mr. Darcy's taste in foods, or about the décor of his townhouse, or the likelihood of my lace being finer than Miss Bingley's," Elizabeth laughed. "I have had quite enough of that for one day." The ladies deposited Elizabeth on the settee.

  "Now, Lizzy. We want to hear every detail," demanded Olivia.

  "Yes, Lizzy! Did you really propose to Mr. Darcy?" asked a dubious Jane.

  "Of course I did." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. "But you must never breathe a word of this to Mama. He did not actually say yes!" She looked into the shocked and curious faces of her companions and laughed.

  "Every detail," repeated Olivia. Elizabeth sat back and smiled enigmatically.

  "Very well. But truly, it must go no further than this room. You may not even tell your Mr. Bingley or your Colonel. Mr. Darcy might not wish for his friends to hear this tale," Elizabeth said with a stern look at each lady, who swore herself to complete silence.

  "Well, when you left us alone, Mr. Darcy begged to be allowed to propose again....

  "Dearest Elizabeth, will you not listen to my proposal? I have spent the better part of the last three months dreaming of the day when I might have the opportunity to ask for you hand again," pleaded Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth smiled indulgently. "If it would make you happy, sir," she replied with a tinge of ennui in her voice. She sat down upon a chair and neatly arrayed her skirts about her, suppressing a smile. When she had done, she looked up at Mr. Darcy expectantly.

  "Thank you, Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said, rubbing his hands nervously and coming to her side. Elizabeth squinted up at him.

  "Are you thanking me listening to your proposal?" she asked as she shook her head, and still suppressing her smile, awaited Mr. Darcy's speech. But that man looked at her, slightly alarmed. Elizabeth raised her brows in question.

  "You are not going to wear that...that face, are you?" he asked with a gesture towards her head.

  "Is there a problem with my face, sir?" Elizabeth asked, raising a hand to her cheek. "I thought you were rather fond of it...." Mr. Darcy sensed that he was being teased.

  "I meant...I am sorry...." Elizabeth placed her hands in her lap and turned her eyes to Mr. Darcy with an angelic expression.

  "Pray continue, Mr. Darcy," she said.

  "Perhaps you should call me Fitzwilliam."

  "Pray continue, Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam?" Mr. Darcy silenced her with a look and took one of her hands in his.

  "Elizabeth...Oh, I believe it is customary for the gentleman to kneel." Mr. Darcy began to do so, when Elizabeth stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

  "You did not kneel the first time," she offered.

  "No...uh, no. I suppose I was too nervous," was Mr. Darcy's reply.

  "Are you nervous now?" Elizabeth asked innocently, as she observed the beads of perspiration on his brow.

  "Yes," he breathed, and Elizabeth once again had to suppress her urge to giggle.

  "Then perhaps you had better stand. I would not wish to put you off your game, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said, emphasizing the name. Elizabeth was completely enchanted by Mr. Darcy's efforts to make the moment perfect and memorable, but the whole scene was unnerving to her. She really did not want to hear Mr. Darcy's proposal, fearing that it would evoke memories unpleasant to both of them. She had won Mr. Darcy's heart and he was to be hers forever. That was all that mattered to Elizabeth. She was willing to indulge Mr. Darcy's desire to propose; she just wished he would not take it so seriously.

  But this proposal meant everything to Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth's acceptance would mark the end of a very sad and disturbing chapter in their lives as well as a new beginning. He could not help being nervous. Although Elizabeth had apparently already agreed to marry him (and he could not remember her actually doing so), he feared in his soul that she might refuse him again. A frightened voice inside him told him that this would be the defining moment in his life. And now Elizabeth was laughing at him! Mr. Darcy turned away to compose himself. When he turned back after a few seconds, he found Elizabeth leaning over and wiping dried mud from the toe of her shoe. She looked up and caught Mr. Darcy's eye. The look of alarm she found there very nearly made her burst out laughing. She sat up and arranged her skirts once again. Mr. Darcy sighed deeply.

  "My dearest Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I adm
ire and love you," Mr. Darcy began.

  "Excuse me," Elizabeth interrupted, this time without a smile, "But was that not your first proposal?" Mr. Darcy's eyes grew very wide.

  "Well...uh, yes. I guess it was."

  "You would want to do the second one, I think," Elizabeth replied evenly.

  "But it still applies!" Mr. Darcy pleaded.

  "Oh." Mr. Darcy cleared his throat.

  "Almost from the first moment I--."

  "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy--Fitzwilliam. But I have heard all of this before...."

  "Yes, but...." Mr. Darcy sputtered.

  "....And quite frankly it only brings to mind your first proposal, and well...perhaps it would be better if you moved along," Elizabeth said softly. Mr. Darcy understood, and was eager to comply.

  "But do you not want me to tell you how much I love you?" he asked looking a bit despondent.

  "Oh, yes, please!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her first real display of enthusiasm since Mr. Darcy began. He stood for a moment, obviously trying to remember what he had planned to say. After a moment he shrugged.

  "I love you," Mr. Darcy said simply. Elizabeth's smile was radiant. "I love your eyes. I love the way your eyebrows move. I love your mouth, your hair...." Elizabeth erupted in gales of laughter. Mr. Darcy looked affronted.

  "Forgive me Mr. Darcy...I mean Fitzwilliam. But it is too funny! Are you declaring your love or taking inventory of my parts?" she asked archly. Mr. Darcy knelt by her side and, resting his elbow on the armrest, he cupped his chin in his palm and smiled wickedly.

  "I would love to inventory your parts!"

  "Mr.--Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth blushed crimson. Having discomfited Elizabeth out of her teasing, Mr. Darcy rose and looked at her smugly.

  "May I continue?" Elizabeth could only manage a nod.

  "I love you, Elizabeth, more than anything in the world. I...I do not know how...I can live without you. I mean I cannot live without you," Mr. Darcy stammered. "Blast! Now I have gone and forgotten what I was about to say."

  "You were about to propose marriage," Elizabeth replied, laughter welling up inside her once more.

  "I know!" Mr. Darcy snapped. "I am sorry," he said softly, immediately feeling contrite.

  "So am I, my love; please forgive me."

  "Please marry me."

  "That is your proposal?" Elizabeth cried, as Mr. Darcy threw up his hands and strode to the window. It had all seemed so simple when he was with her in the garden. The setting was perfect, the timing--all he lacked was privacy. What would have been so bad about a public proposal? It could be no worse than the private humiliation he was currently being subjected to. Elizabeth rose and followed Mr. Darcy to the window. She laid her cheek against his shoulder blade. Mr. Darcy did not acknowledge her. She reached for his hand and led him to the seat she had formerly occupied.

  "Perhaps you had better let me handle this," she said smiling sweetly at Mr. Darcy, who was completely lost.

  "Madam?"

  "Mr. Dar...Fitzwilliam, we have known each other for some time now, and, as you know, our path to happiness has not been a smooth one." Elizabeth knelt before Mr. Darcy, who was so transfixed by the look in her eye he was unaware of what she was doing.

  "After I received your letter, I realized for the first time what I meant to you. I also had to confront my own feelings, and I discovered that I loved you more than I ever thought imaginable." Mr. Darcy reached out then, and stroked Elizabeth's cheek. She took up his hand and turning it over kissed his palm. She clutched it to her heart.

  "I learned that day, and have lived every moment since with the certain knowledge that your love is essential to my own existence. I have been as miserable these last few weeks as you have been, Fitzwilliam. My future happiness depends upon your willingness to spend the rest of your life by my side. Will you?" Mr. Darcy stared at Elizabeth, moved beyond words, beyond tears even, by the poignancy with which she had spoken. Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, and Mr. Darcy slowly came to his senses.

  "Impressive...very impressive!" Elizabeth laughed.

  "And your answer, Fitzwilliam?" Mr. Darcy abruptly stood, pulling Elizabeth to her feet as he went.

  "I would be a complete fool to reject such a proposal. But the man is supposed to do the proposing, Elizabeth, not the potential bride." Elizabeth placed her fists on her hips.

  "Are you going to refuse me, then?" she challenged. Mr. Darcy swept Elizabeth into his arms.

  "I am done being a fool, Elizabeth," he said, and sealed the bargain with a kiss.

  "Oh my!" Olivia said, fanning herself.

  Eleven

  —

  "So you finally proposed," the Colonel said, leaning back in his chair. Mr. Darcy winced as he took a seat near his cousin. His pride still stung from his failure to properly propose to Elizabeth. He did not regret accepting her proposal, of course. It was the thought that he had failed her a second time that gnawed at him.

  "Darcy?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked when he caught Mr. Darcy's gesture. "Is everything all right?"

  "It could not be better," Mr. Darcy said. "I would declare myself the happiest man alive, if I thought you not would contest my declaration." The Colonel smiled lazily. "When I left here this morning, I never imagined that the day would turn out as well as it did. When I spoke to you and Miss Crenshaw in the park, and with your mother later, you all advised me to be patient. I also spoke to Mr. Gardiner and he advised me to do just the opposite. In the end I discovered that you were both right.

  "I had acted impetuously the first time I proposed to Elizabeth. I acted without once thinking about her, or whether she even cared for me, and paid a high price for my selfishness. But I have to admit, Mr. Gardiner's advice appealed to me even more. When I knew that she loved me, I did not want to waste one more moment. Mr. Bennet's visit this morning sealed my fate."

  "I imagine that was an interesting interview," Colonel Fitzwilliam said.

  "Yes," Mr. Darcy laughed, "Especially at the beginning. He really put me through it. Not that I could blame him, mind," he added as he stared into his swirling amber liquid in his snifter. "I had the temerity to ask for Elizabeth's hand after I had wounded her terribly, ruined another daughter's happiness, and insulted all his dearest relations. And I was brash enough to confess it all before asking for his blessing. It is a wonder he even considered my petition. I thought he had come to call me out."

  "What did he say?" the Colonel asked as he rose and sought the decanter.

  "Mr. Bennet asked me to account for my behavior. I repeated all that I had said in the letter and more. He finally asked me if I thought Elizabeth would ever have me. I told him that I did. He told me I had better go see her then, then."

  "And so you went straight to Gracechurch Street and proposed." Mr. Darcy squirmed uneasily.

  "Darcy?"

  "Fitzwilliam," Mr. Darcy asked, "How did you propose to Miss Crenshaw?" Mr. Darcy watched as the Colonel sputtered and choked on his brandy.

  "Why do you ask?" he replied, wiping his tearing eyes.

  "Never mind," Mr. Darcy smiled.

  • • •

  "I will not, Charles! I simply will not go!" Miss Bingley cried, tossing down her napkin for emphasis. "That is final!"

  "But Caroline," Mr. Bingley pleaded. The siblings had been arguing for some minutes about Miss Bingley's flat refusal to accompany him to Mr. Darcy's home for dinner.

  "Charles, please! Let us not belabor the point," Miss Bingley cried, as she swept past him and headed up the stairs.

  "Will you at least tell me why not?" Miss Bingley paused and turned. She returned to the parlor with Mr. Bingley in her wake and carefully closed the door behind her brother. She paced for a moment before speaking.

  "I ...I said things. I was very angry and I said things to Mr. Darcy about himself and Eliza Bennet that I... I will not repeat what I said, but I know that it will be a long time before he will forgive me." Miss Bingley laughed ironically. "He...he may never forgive me."

 
; "I am certain that you are exaggerating, Caroline. Darcy is not a mean or vindictive man. I am sure...."

  "I do not exaggerate. I will stay home, Charles. I will not expose you to the humiliation...I doubt that Mr. Darcy will even allow me to enter his home." Overcome with emotion, and unwilling to be importuned any further, Miss Bingley rushed from the room. Her brother was left alone, bewildered and saddened.

  • • •

  Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the parlor of the Crenshaw townhouse and was welcomed by Richard Crenshaw and Mr. Douglass. He joined the men while he awaited his fiancée, who was upstairs attending to the final touches of her ensemble.

  "I hear that your cousin Darcy has become engaged to our Lizzy," said Richard.

  "Our Lizzy?" the Colonel replied, accepting an offered seat. He immediately rose again as Olivia entered the parlor, followed by Elise Crenshaw. Olivia looked disdainfully at her brother.

  "My brothers like to think of Lizzy as the sister they should have had. I was far too tame for their liking," she quipped as she accepted the Colonel's kiss on her hand.

  "I somehow find that hard to believe," Colonel Fitzwilliam retorted.

  "Mr. Darcy is to marry Miss Bennet? How delightful! When did this happen?" asked Elise, as she claimed a seat beside her husband.

  "It happened yesterday. You were away from home last evening and I have been out of the house all day, so I have not had a chance to tell you. I assumed that my father would tell you."

  "He only told me about it an hour ago," said Richard.

  "I had no inkling that there was an attachment between them," added Mr. Douglass. For his trouble, he drew stares from all in the room. Olivia and Elise exchanged glances.

  "Men," Olivia rolled her eyes, as she took the Colonel's arm and headed for the door, shaking her head as she went. The couple repaired to Mr. Darcy's carriage, which the Colonel had borrowed for the evening. As the carriage pulled away from the curb, Colonel Fitzwilliam sat back and smiled at his bride to be.

  "I suppose you intend to take credit for Darcy and Miss Bennet's engagement?" Olivia laughed.

  "No, no. After what Lizzy told me about the matter yesterday, I am inclined to give her all the glory. "