by P. O. Dixon
“What on earth are you thinking, Nephew?”
“Only that I am in love with Miss Elizabeth, and I wish to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Love? What does love have to do with alliances between people of our sphere? Far better you had fallen in love with a woman with her own fortune—even one with connections to trade. Then you would have the satisfaction of knowing the lady brought something to the marriage other than an acerbic wit and a crooked smile.
“At least our family might have been able to make something of the alliance. It is during times like this that I wish you were more like your Cousin Fitzwilliam. Now there is a gentleman of noble blood who knows exactly what he is about.”
“Pray what is that supposed to mean?”
“You know precisely what it means, Nephew. I am not blind to the way Fitzwilliam looks at Miss Jane Bennet. Indeed, he makes no attempt to hide his fascination. However, I am not worried in the least bit. He may enjoy basking in her pretty smiles—he may even trifle with her affections just as gentlemen are wont to do with gullible young women of her ilk. His behavior towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet upon making her acquaintance proves my point. However, he would never disgrace the family by marrying such a woman.
“But not you, not the proud Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, who follows his own counsel,” she opined scathingly. “Well, allow me to be the first to congratulate you for sinking so low as a man of means might possibly sink.”
“You have said quite enough, Lady Catherine, and from this point on, I will not suffer another second of your vitriol toward Miss Elizabeth. I had hoped to find you contrite after what you did this morning. Your conduct was appalling, mainly because my future wife is a good person who might have meant something to you had you not been so consumed with hatred toward her. And no more of your nonsense about her family’s lack of fortune because you were never going to accept an alliance between me and anyone other than Anne.”
“What do you want from me, Nephew? From your cradles, you and Anne were destined to be married. Do you expect me to abandon a favorite wish that I have cherished for so long as I have merely because some little country upstart turned your head and made you forget what you were meant to be about?”
“I had hoped by now that you would have realized the error of your ways—that you would be suffering some semblance of remorse and that you would wish to apologize to Miss Elizabeth for abandoning her on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.”
Her ladyship laughed. “Never! Why would I apologize when I would gladly do it all over again if given a chance?”
“Surely you do not mean that? You are a mother. You have your own daughter. How would you feel were you to learn that someone treated her so atrociously as you treated Miss Elizabeth?”
“Why, I would never forgive them! I would do everything in my power to seek retribution.”
“Then you understand my position. The only retribution that I am seeking is your apology to my intended, and in the absence of that I will never forgive you.”
“How dare you speak to me that way? I am your family—your own flesh and blood. I have known you all your life.”
At length, Lady Catherine went on in this way until finally, Darcy proceeded to quit the room and to quit Rosings, not knowing if he would ever see her late mother’s only sister ever again. And quite frankly, not sure if he ever wanted to.
Chapter 18
An Implicit Promise
Soon enough all the arrangements had been made, and Jane, Elizabeth, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Bingley, and Darcy were well on their way to London. The latter two rode on horseback for the last leg of the journey.
When he could, Darcy took the opportunity to converse with his friend. “I realize you and I need to talk about the confusion surrounding your visit to Kent. With all that has happened, I have been entirely remiss, and for that, I apologize.”
“It is not every day a man becomes engaged and in such an unconventional matter at that. No apology is needed,” said Bingley.
“I beg to differ. I fear I ought to have been more open about my reason for inviting you here.”
“You know I have often hinted of my desire to visit this part of the country.”
“Yes—but, perhaps you might have reconsidered had I told you the true reason.”
“So, you did not invite me down as a means of having someone at your disposal, as your aunt Lady Catherine opined,” Bingley said, half-jokingly.
“No—”
“Darcy, I am no fool. I know you invited me here because of Miss Bennet. I also suspect that Miss Elizabeth was the impetus for your doing so. I am well aware that Miss Bennet was just as surprised in seeing me as I was surprised in seeing her.”
“Then you do not feel ill-used?”
“On the contrary. Though it pains me to say this, I fear this visit has been rather enlightening.”
“How so, if I may ask?”
“The more that I think about it, the more I am convinced that your initial impression of Miss Bennet’s feelings for me may have been correct all along.”
Pray, do not let Elizabeth hear you speak that way, Darcy thought but did not voice aloud. “Why do you believe such a thing, Bingley?”
“It is quite simple. Miss Bennet rarely has anything to say to me at all whereas she is quite engaged where Colonel Fitzwilliam is concerned. Surely you must have noticed it too.”
“I will not try to pretend I have not noticed how Miss Bennet and my cousin get along, but surely you cannot be surprised. My cousin is known for his ability to fall easily into conversation with whomever and wherever he chooses.”
“I should like to think I can be described in much the same words. Miss Bennet would never have shied away from me in Hertfordshire the way she is wont to do now, and I can only surmise it has to do with your cousin. I think she likes him best.”
“Or perhaps she is merely pretending to like him better to see how you respond.”
“Why would she do such a thing? Surely disguise of such sort is not in her nature. She has always been known for her openness and her honesty.”
“Who is to say how a woman scorned might comport herself?”
“A woman scorned?” Bingley asked, his brow arched. “Surely you do not believe she thinks of herself in such an unflattering manner.”
“Well, you did leave Hertfordshire after the ball with an implicit promise to return and then you did not.”
“I am here now, am I not? Trying everything in my power to make amends, and yet it is as though she does not even know that I am alive; much less just as in love with her as ever before.”
“Have you told her that?”
“As I have said, she will not allow me the chance.”
“Pray tell me this, Bingley. Have you seized the opportunity to apologize for leaving and never returning?”
The younger man shrugged. “Perhaps not in so many words.”
“Then, there you have it. Apologize to Miss Bennet and do it as soon as you can. You might be amazed at just how far a heartfelt apology would go towards melting a heart that is frozen to you.”
“Do you really suppose it is so simple as that?”
“All I can say is this: it is a start. You may very well find yourself having to apologize more than once, by the way. But if you really love her as you say you do, then, in the end, your efforts will not be in vain.”
“Why do I feel you are no longer speaking of Miss Bennet and me, but rather you and Miss Elizabeth?”
“I do not mind confessing to you that I have found myself in the position of having to apologize to Miss Elizabeth for things I might have done and said differently.”
“And she forgave you?”
“I hope so. I think so. To be honest, the inner workings of the female mind remain a mystery to me, but in my limited experience endeavoring to figure things I out, I will say that they like to be right.”
“It sounds like what you are suggesting is th
at I throw myself at Miss Bennet’s mercy and simply hope for the best.”
“I do not think that is what I am saying at all.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I am simply saying that rather than suppose you can pick up right where you left off with Miss Bennet, you might apologize for the heartbreak she suffered.”
“Even though any heartbreak I might have caused was most unconsciously done.”
“Even though, for regardless of what your thinking is on the matter, it is her thinking that matters most.”
Darcy reflected on his proposal to Elizabeth and how he had so carefully rehearsed his speech, espousing at length his feelings, his struggles, his sacrifices. Intending to caution his friend to tread lightly in that regard he said, “By the bye, pray whatever you do or say, leave your reasons for behaving as you did completely out of your speech. Trust me, my friend, thinking and speaking only of her feelings will make all the difference in the world.”
* * *
In the meantime, Elizabeth and Jane were having a conversation of a similar bent inside the carriage when it was just the two of them, the colonel having gone ahead of the rest of their party at the changing station in Bromley.
“Dearest Jane,” Elizabeth said, “we have not talked very much during these past days. I must blame myself for our lapse.”
“I certainly do not fault you, my dearest sister. You seem so happy with your Mr. Darcy. How can I blame you for wanting to spend as much time as possible getting better acquainted with each other—doing all those things two people in love are wont to do, especially when it is just the two of them?”
There was something in Jane’s voice that informed Elizabeth that her older sister was well aware that she and Mr. Darcy were not just holding hands and staring intensely into each other’s eyes during their long walks in the park and late nights in the parlor.
Elizabeth did not mean to apologize or make excuses for loving Mr. Darcy the way she did.
“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” she replied. “If I could but see you as happy, my joy would be complete.”
“Your happiness is my happiness,” said Jane, smiling. Taking her sister’s hand, she gave it a gentle squeeze.
“But you cannot deny such joy is entirely within your grasp,” Elizabeth exclaimed.
Jane released Elizabeth’s hand and folded one arm over the other. “With Mr. Bingley?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “The one man who is at the heart of my greatest disappointed hopes?”
The last thing Elizabeth meant to do was cause her sister any discomfort. “Jane, allow me to apologize again and again if it seems I have in any way made light of your suffering. I have long felt it too, on your behalf.
“That is why I had such high hopes for a reunion between the two of you in Kent.”
“At least you are willing to offer an apology for your actions, however good intended. That is more than I can say for Mr. Charles Bingley.”
“But he has apologized—perhaps not in so many words. Has he not expressed his sincerity through his deeds? He has been here and most attentively at that, so far as you have allowed.”
Jane threw a pensive glance outside the carriage window. “I need more, Lizzy.”
“Pray your saying that has nothing to do with Colonel Fitzwilliam,” responded Elizabeth, unable to mask her disappointment that her sister might be clinging to something that would never be.
Jane pulled her eyes from the window and looked at her sister pointedly. “You and I have discussed Colonel Fitzwilliam, have we not? I refuse to have this conversation again.”
Conceding, Elizabeth said, “You will hear no more on the subject again if that is your wish. I will hold my tongue on the matter of Mr. Bingley’s intentions as well if you promise me one thing.”
“That being?” Jane inquired.
“Pray you will do anything but steel your heart against Mr. Bingley forever. I truly believe he is capable of far more than either of us know—perhaps even himself. He might just surprise you one day.”
Chapter 19
Exceedingly Shy
London, Darcy House
Having concluded a private tour led by her intended of but one of her future homes, Elizabeth could rightfully say that everything she had beheld was wonderful—exactly as to be expected for a man of Mr. Darcy’s discerning taste. He had even shown her the mistress’s suite and had stepped away long enough for her to explore the rooms in privacy. What better way to get a real glimpse of what her future life entailed? He, no doubt, expected her to catalog a list of changes: the furnishings, the wallpaper, the pictures, the lighting. Certainly, she would someday. For now, Elizabeth loved things just the way they were.
“Pray tell me you understand my wish for discretion as regards our engagement,” Elizabeth said to Darcy while the two of them sat in his study awaiting the arrival of Darcy’s imminent guest.
Elizabeth had secured Charlotte’s word that no mention of the betrothal was to escape Hunsford, and Charlotte assured her friend that if anyone in Hertfordshire learned of the engagement before Mr. Darcy secured Mr. Bennet’s blessing, it would not be on account of her. As for Mr. Collins, she was sure he would not inform anyone of the engagement either, for Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself had not quite accepted it. She made it clear to her vicar that she would consider it a grievous act of disloyalty were he to acknowledge the unsanctioned alliance. In her ladyship’s mind, nothing was final in that regard until her nephew had placed a wedding ring on Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s finger, and until such time as he did, she would do everything in her power to prevent it.
For the first time since making Lady Catherine’s acquaintance, Elizabeth could rightfully say that she and her ladyship were of the same mind in at least one regard. Elizabeth wanted to keep her engagement a secret, and the only person in the world with knowledge of the engagement and the means of conveying the news solely for the purposes of inflicting harm was prevented from doing so.
Still, Darcy could not fathom having his intended as a guest in his London home and not introducing her to his sister. Thus, an invitation was sent to Miss Darcy’s London establishment requesting the honor of her presence at Darcy House.
“I understand completely, my love. I am certain my sister will understand once our engagement is official, and I tell her the happy news. On the other hand, I am sure she would never forgive me if I did not introduce her to you while you are in town. I have mentioned you too many times to count in my letters to her, both from Hertfordshire as well as from Kent.”
“You have told your sister about me, sir? Pray you were more generous when speaking of me than I deserved, for unless I am mistaken, you and I were not each other’s favorites when we were in Hertfordshire. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me.”
“Was there no good in your affectionate behavior to your sister while she was ill at Netherfield?”
“Dearest Jane! How could I have done less for her? But I dare not argue your making a virtue of it.”
“Indeed, your kindness to your sister is but one of the things I admired most about you. I always hoped my sister might be so blessed as to have someone like you in her life.”
A servant then entered the room and announced that Miss Darcy had arrived. Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She was more nervous than she had imagined she would be upon first learning of Mr. Darcy’s plan to introduce her to his only sibling. A barrage of questions flooded her busy mind.
What is Miss Darcy really like? Is she anything at all like the pernicious Miss Bingley? Will Miss Darcy’s comportment be on par with the haughtiness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh or is she amiable like the colonel?
Elizabeth reminded herself to take a deep breath.
I am quite amazed at my uneasiness, though I hardly understand why that might be. Perhaps it is my not knowing precisely how Mr. Darcy’s letters to Miss Darcy may have painted a picture of me in her mind. Maybe
it is a consequence of Mr. Wickham’s unflattering portrayal of the young girl that worries me.
Here, Elizabeth censured herself. When will the memories of every word that vile man ever uttered dissipate from my mind?
She threw a quick glance in the mirror, then tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. She pinched her cheeks. She smoothed her dress and finally accepted her intended’s patiently awaiting extended arm and walking side by side with him, quit the room.
Some moments later, Elizabeth stood face to face with her future sister-in-law, and the formidable introduction took place. With what astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. The observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was exceedingly shy—nothing at all like Mr. Wickham had described her. Indeed, she found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.
Miss Darcy was tall and on a larger scale than Elizabeth. Although she was little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humor in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.
Despite also being a guest in her brother’s home, it was more than apparent to Elizabeth that the young lady felt obliged to preside as hostess at Darcy House, a predicament for which Elizabeth could not help but pity. She was quite certain she detected a measure of relief when the visit was drawing to an end and it was time for Miss Darcy and the lady who lived with her to take their leave.
“I cannot tell you what an honor it was to make your acquaintance, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth.
“I assure you the pleasure was all mine, Miss Elizabeth.” Turning to Jane, who had also joined their party, the young lady said, “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Bennet.” She then looked at Mr. Darcy. “Brother, you must be sure to encourage Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to visit again when they are next in town. Perhaps you will bring them to Mayfair. I should be delighted to receive them.”