Elizabeth stopped and turned to face him.
“I did not love him, Mr Darcy. Is that singular enough for you?”
Clearly, his chosen topic had irritated Elizabeth, yet it had given him more information than he could ever have hoped for. Elizabeth wanted to marry for love. It gave him hope. Although hard to achieve in one month, it was not impossible.
Elizabeth, who enjoyed walking on most days, was extraordinarily pleased to reach the scattering of seat size boulders and logs on the ridge at Oakham Mount. Although it was she who had set the fast pace, the last few uphill yards had been a struggle.
A little breathless, Elizabeth sat on one of the lower stones and untied her bonnet. The fresh air felt cold on her exposed head, but it was a welcome chill after the heat of the pace. She hoped that Mr Darcy would not question her about Mr Collins anymore. Somehow, she always seemed to reveal things about herself to this man that she had no intention of doing.
Darcy joined Elizabeth, taking a seat on the boulder at right angles to her, from where he could better admire her.
Having caught her breath, Elizabeth turned to Darcy.
“What about you, Mr Darcy? You are what…seven and twenty, eight and twenty, and also unmarried. Have you ever been engaged?”
“I have yet to ask a woman to be my wife, but it is something I hope to remedy in the very near future, Miss Elizabeth.”
This was not the reply Elizabeth had expected. For some reason, she felt both intrigued and wary.
Deciding to delve further, she asked,
“You sound as if you have someone in mind, Mr Darcy? Is that the reason you returned to Meryton, to conduct your courtship?”
Unwittingly, Elizabeth had started a conversation on the very subject he wanted to pursue, but first, he must dispel her belief that he had somehow wronged George Wickham. If he proposed to her while she still thought ill of him, he would have no hope.
Aware of the falsehoods Wickham was spreading amongst the residents of Meryton, Darcy suspected he had embellished his tale of woe for Elizabeth’s, consumption purely because Darcy had shown an interest in her.
Therefore, Darcy decided to seize on the last time they had spoken about Wickham to start his defence.
“Miss Elizabeth, do you remember the night of Mr Bingley’s ball, when we spoke of Mr Wickham and my relationship with him?”
Elizabeth screwed up her nose. It had not escaped her notice that Mr Darcy had changed the topic of conversation. He had done so once before, at the ball. Reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either of us.”
Then, he had politely been telling her it was none of her business, but now he appeared to be willing to talk about it. And, as Mr Darcy’s relationship with Mr Wickham was a subject all of Meryton was eagerly awaiting clarification on, she decided to indulge him.
“I do, but as I recall you were more than a little evasive, sir.”
“I am still not at liberty to divulge all the particulars at present, but, if I tell you that he once tried, and almost succeeded, in dishonouring a gentlewoman of my acquaintance, merely to obtain her considerable fortune, would it change your opinion of him?”
Seeing Elizabeth’s startled expression, Darcy tried to reassure her.
“Thankfully, Providence stepped in, and saved the young woman from ruin, but not without consequences to her health, her confidence and her trust in her fellow man. As for Mr Wickham, he has shown not the slightest hint of remorse or regret for his actions, and I cannot forgive him.” Darcy could not hide his bitterness, nor did he try.
“I do not tell you this out of malice, Miss Elizabeth, but as a warning. Mr Wickham is not the gentleman he professes to be, and you should not trust him, or his words. Providence may not be so generous next time.”
Elizabeth was shocked. If this accusation were true, then it would drastically change her opinion of Mr Wickham. Though there was no way, she could substantiate Darcy’s accusations? The despoiling of virgins was hardly a subject a gentlewoman could raise in polite conversation.
“I…I think you know it is an allegation I cannot substantiate with Mr Wickham. Without further details… or proof of some kind, I feel I must still give Mr Wickham the benefit of the doubt.
Darcy was disappointed.
“It is not my secret to reveal, Miss Elizabeth. But be assured, if it were, I would not hesitate to tell you the particulars.”
Elizabeth could see that it had been hard for Darcy to broach this subject, which gave her pause for thought. If a man as proud as Mr Darcy was willing to reveal such a painful happening, and to a close acquaintance, then there must be some truth in it.
“I can see that it was not easy for you to divulge, Mr Darcy. So, I will promise you this; from now on, I will be more circumspect in my dealings with Mr Wickham.”
“Then I am satisfied… for now,” Darcy said.
From the corner of his eye, Darcy saw the serving girl fidget as the cold from the stone penetrated her thin cloak. This, he suspected, would prompt Elizabeth to begin their descent back to Longbourn.
Pushing on with his final question, Darcy asked,
“And your opinion of me, Miss Bennet?”
Again, his question had taken her by surprise. It was unthinkable to offend a man such as Mr Darcy to his face, although she had been quite vocal in doing so behind his back. She had the good grace to blush a little when she thought of all she had said. And now, how was it possible to answer this question without giving offence?
Pausing to reflect on their acquaintance, Elizabeth examined their dealings together.
Her dislike of him had only been minor until fuelled by Mr Wickham’s account of his ill-treatment at Darcy's hands, yet that was now a questionable source of information. The only negative fact she personally could hold against him was his unkind words at the assembly. Yet, was he not entitled to his opinion? Had she not done and said the same about Miss Caroline Bingley? The only difference was, she had taken care that her conversation was not overheard. His words had not injured her, only wounded her pride.
She had to admit, Mr Darcy had never served her ill.
She replied quietly,
“My opinion of you…it is a question that should not be asked.”
“But you don’t like me, do you, Miss Bennet?”
“Those are your words, sir, not mine.”
Darcy had given Elizabeth the chance to confirm her dislike for him, in which case he would have returned to London and licked his wounds. But she had not.
Elated, and seeing an opportunity to wipe the slate clean, Darcy said,
“Miss Elizabeth, I think neither of us would like to be measured by our first impression of one another, would you agree?”
Elizabeth neither confirmed nor denied his statement verbally, only inclining her head a little and then waited for him to continue.
“Might I propose that we start anew?”
The opportunity of delving into the mind of such a man as Mr Darcy fascinated Elizabeth. Since his arrival in Meryton, the village had been divided in their opinion of him. They either admired or detested him. Courted or avoided him. Loved or loathed him. Her curiosity won the day.
Elizabeth slowly inclined her head, and then said,
“Very well, Mr Darcy, I accept your offer.”
Springing to his feet, Darcy could not hide his joy and a smile spread over his face.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, at your service, ma’am,” and he bowed low.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but be swept up in his cheerful mood.
“Elizabeth Bennet, sir,” and she executed a deep curtsy.
Standing facing each other, they smiled at the silliness of it all, until Darcy suddenly stopped smiling and took a step closer to her.
“Elizabeth…” he said.
The very persistent cough from behi
nd them brought Darcy back to his senses, although he inwardly cursed at the untimely interruption from Elizabeth’s serving girl.
Instead of revealing his emotions, he said,
“May I walk with you again, eight o’clock tomorrow?”
“You may,” Elizabeth replied, with a smile.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Darcy again arrived promptly on the stroke of eight at Longbourn. Mrs Hill opened the door, and Elizabeth stepped out. Today she was accompanied not by Daisy, but by her sister Mary.
Elizabeth explained.
“Mary has agreed to keep us company today, Mr Darcy. I hope you do not mind, only Mrs Hill cannot spare Daisy for a second day.”
He did not want an audience when he made his offer to Elizabeth, but each day that he did not make her aware of his feelings was a day wasted. Darcy gave a half smile and dipped his head in acknowledgement.
Mary, he thought, was a strange girl.
Having heard the news from Fletcher that Charlotte Lucas was to marry Mr Collins instead of Elizabeth, he had thought that the pious and plain Mary Bennet would have suited him better. Not only that, but he suspected his Aunt Catherine would have also considered it a better match. Lady Catherine saw no reason for an estate to be entailed away from the female line, as with her own daughter. Lady Catherine’s only child, Anne, would inherit a vast estate and fortune on her mother’s demise, rather than it passing to Darcy or her other cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. In Darcy’s opinion, if Mr Collins had married his cousin Mary, he would have gained even greater favour with his stern and opinionated patroness.
Darcy took heart when he saw the book in Mary’s hand. Hopefully, she would engross herself in the pages of that, rather than join in with their conversation.
Today, they set off a slower pace than the previous day, and Darcy took this as a sign that Elizabeth was happier to be in his company.
“I am pleased we travel at a more sedate pace today, Miss Elizabeth. It will allow us more time to talk.” Darcy said.
“Oh, it is not my design to tarry, Mr Darcy. Mary has a blister on her heel.”
A deflated Darcy could only say, “I see.”
Winding their way along a different path, through a less dense part of the woods, Elizabeth guided them to a small clearing, where several trees had been felled and were awaiting collection from the local sawmill.
Mary followed Elizabeth, and Darcy followed Mary.
“I will sit over here, Lizzy,” Mary said in her monotone voice.
Elizabeth smiled at her sister and sat on one of the other tree trunks.
“Longbourn is situated in a charming part of Hertfordshire,” Darcy said, trying to initiate a conversation on a neutral subject. Complimenting their home seemed a safe topic.
“We did not choose our ancestral home’s location, Mr Darcy; it was here when we were born. It will remain here when we die,” chimed in Mary.
“Yes, quite so, thank you, Mary,” Elizabeth said, although she could not stop the rosy tint of embarrassment from staining her cheeks.
Mary’s comment had given the air a feeling of awkwardness, and even Elizabeth was in a quandary as to how to move on.
It was Darcy who broke the stalemate of silence.
“I was thinking of calling on a few of Mr Bingley’s neighbours. I understand my previous impression did not show me in a favourable light. Who would you recommend I send my card to first, Miss Elizabeth, Sir Lucas?”
Seizing the chance to stifle the awkwardness created by her own sister, Elizabeth replied,
“Yes, Sir Lucas is a good choice. Although he is new to the nobility, he is the only titled gentleman in the area, and very well respected.”
“Then it is settled, I will leave my card on the way home.”
Elizabeth knew her mamma had invited the Lucas’ and Colonel Forster to dine with them the next evening. Unfortunately, at the last minute, Colonel Forster had to drop out, which vexed Mrs Bennet greatly, and she had voiced her displeasure several times. Now, not only will we be an odd number, but there are too many ladies. Elizabeth had suggested that she reschedule the meal for when Colonel Forster could attend, but her mother would not hear of it. She was determined to show Lady Lucas that they supported Elizabeth wholeheartedly in her refusal of Mr Collins proposal. With five daughters to support and husbands to find for each of them, nothing could be farther from the truth, especially as they only had one thousand pounds’ dowry each. Indeed, she had been so annoyed by her daughter’s disobedience and refusal, that she had vowed never to speak to Elizabeth again.
Elizabeth had smiled to herself. If only that were a vow her mother had kept, but her daily outbursts to remind everyone that Mr Collins and that sly Charlotte Lucas could turn them out with only a day’s notice after Mr Bennet’s death, belied her oath.
However, if she were to invite Mr Darcy to join them, not only would it even out the numbers, but it would add another gentleman to their party, which she hoped would go some way to restoring her in her mamma’s good grace. After all, he was quite the richest man they had ever met, or were likely to meet, with ten thousand pounds a year!
“Mr Darcy,” she began nervously, “…do you have plans tomorrow evening? I ask because Sir William and Lady Lucas are to dine with us, and I am sure our mother would like us to extend the invitation to you also.” She finished, casting Mary a glance.
Mary made a face and shrugged her shoulders. Only one man had been of interest to her, and now he was spoken for. She returned to her book.
Darcy wanted to spend time with Elizabeth, not her family. Conducting a courtship in plain view of her family was one thing, sharing it with them was quite another. However, if it meant additional time in Elizabeth’s company, he was sure he could tolerate them for one more evening
“That is very generous of you, Miss Elizabeth. If you are confident it will not be an imposition, then I accept.”
Elizabeth was surprised by Mr Darcy’s exuberant response. It was the most animated she had ever seen him.
Their mood of mutual civility was broken when Mary said,
“I’m cold and want to go home, Lizzy, now.”
On the ride back to Netherfield, Darcy thought he had made some progress with his cause. Although they had shared only a relatively short conversation, it has been both congenial and productive. A dinner invitation and a chance to repair both the Bennet’s and the Lucas’ opinion of him.
“Well it is too late to retract the offer now, Elizabeth, so I suppose we will just have to make the best of it,” moaned Mrs Bennet.
“But Mamma, having a man of Mr Darcy’s consequence sitting at our table must be of some advantage to us?” Elizabeth said, hating to use Mr Darcy’s status as leverage. “Where is our charity, mamma? Mr Darcy is alone at Netherfield and knows very few people in the area.”
“And whose fault is that? If Mr Darcy had not acted so above his company, I dare say there would be many families willing to invite him to dine,” retorted Mrs Bennet.
“Singling us out as his principal acquaintances will significantly add to our standing, Mamma, and not just in our community, but in all of Hertfordshire.”
“Very well, my dear, it is done now. As you say, we cannot retract the invitation now. Myself, I will enjoy the additional presence of another male in the fray. Too often I am outnumbered by the female of the species,” Mr Bennet winked in Elizabeth’s direction.
But Mrs Bennet would not be silenced on the matter.
“That is all very easy for you to say, Mr Bennet, but Cook and I have planned the meal and courses to fit the number of guests precisely. How am I to conjure up another brace of quail that have been hung to my specifications?”
“Mr Darcy can have one of mine, Mamma,” offered Elizabeth.
“And one of mine, Mrs Bennet. It is settled then.”
“It most certainly is not,” exclaimed Mrs Bennet. “And have Mr Darcy think us too poor to serve a proper meal. No, I will have to go int
o Meryton myself and speak to the butcher. As if I don’t have enough to do.”
Closing the door firmly behind her, Mr Bennet and Elizabeth were left in no doubt as to Mrs Bennet’s displeasure in the matter.
Elizabeth had been relieved to discover her mamma in the library with her father. He had, as anticipated, lent her his moral support when informing her mother about their extra guest.
Deciding it would be prudent for her to avoid her mother, for the time being at least, Elizabeth elected to remain in the library with her papa. Choosing a book of verse by Lord Byron, she then made herself comfortable on the tuffet by the fire.
Elizabeth loved this room, and it wasn’t just because her mother and sisters rarely ventured into it, or even that it was somewhere she and her father could spend time together. It was because of the books. Elizabeth’s thirst for knowledge had set her apart from her sisters. In some circles, she would be labelled a bluestocking, but she did not care. Having a sharp and inquisitive mind had moulded her into the woman she was today, and though she sometimes envied Jane her looks, she was quite content with her lot in life.
Ten minutes before seven, Darcy arrived at Longbourn. He anticipated being the first guest to arrive but was disappointed to see that he was, in fact, the last.
Darcy detested being the last to arrive, and it was as he expected. Moving into the room, he immediately felt uncomfortable as the gathered company focused their attention solely on him, expectantly waiting for him to say something witty or charming.
He gave a curt bow, then said,
“Good evening.”
Elizabeth waited for one of her parents to excuse themselves, to remember their manners and welcome Mr Darcy as they should, but both appeared absorbed in conversation. Her father was exchanging views with Sir William on the variety of local pig breeding stock, while her mother was extolling the virtues of their new scullery maid to Lady Lucas.
Whether they had genuinely not seen Mr Darcy enter or not, Elizabeth did not know, but it was unthinkable for no-one to greet him officially. Having extended the invitation herself, she could not just leave the poor man standing there, floundering on the perimeter of the gathered company.
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