by Jann Rowland
Soon, however, Mr. Gardiner excused himself to return to his offices, which Darcy was given to understand were very near, leaving Darcy with the ladies. Though Darcy had given most of his attention to Mr. Gardiner, he had been watching his sister, and he was satisfied with the manner in which the sisters and Miss Gardiner had been able to draw Georgiana out. She still displayed some of her customary reticence as was to be expected, but she was speaking with greater calmness and animation than she usually did.
But Darcy’s overall purpose for introducing Georgiana was still his continuing efforts to change Miss Bennet’s opinion of him, and as she was sitting close by, he decided this was a perfect opportunity to continue in that campaign. As such, he directed his next comments to her.
“I thank you for making my sister feel welcome, Miss Elizabeth. I am afraid she does not have many friends, due to her reticent nature. I appreciate your efforts.”
Miss Elizabeth turned a look on Darcy that he could not quite describe. It was not the open, friendly look she usually showed the world, nor was it the sardonic amusement or annoyance he had sometimes seen displayed—particularly at him! Her words gave him no indication of her feelings.
“She is a dear, sweet creature, Mr. Darcy. How could we not welcome her with open arms?”
“Still, that is to your own credit, I am sure,” said Darcy, attempting a smile.
“Not at all. In fact, in essentials, I think she is very like my dearest elder sister. They are both reticent and do not show much of their feelings, and though Jane’s reticence displays itself in a calmness which makes her appear quite unaffected by life, your sister’s is betrayed in a shyness which renders her unable to speak. But I can tell she is good-natured and unassuming, and I am glad to make her acquaintance.”
“She is my only family, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy, though he wondered if there was a hidden message in Miss Elizabeth’s words. “I love her prodigiously, and would do anything for her safety and comfort.”
These words seemed to soften Miss Elizabeth a little, and she turned and smiled at his sister, who was speaking with Miss Bennet. “I can see why, Mr. Darcy. I am sure she would inspire those feelings in anyone who is acquainted with her.”
“You are also protective of your sister,” observed Darcy.
Miss Elizabeth turned back to him with hooded eyes. “Just as your sister is a dear creature, so is mine, Mr. Darcy. She is the best person of my acquaintance, and I believe she deserves every happiness in life.”
For a moment, Darcy wondered if Miss Elizabeth was aware of his advice to Bingley concerning the suitability of Miss Jane Bennet as a prospective wife. But then Darcy shook away such thoughts; of course, she could not be aware of that. She might, he supposed, suspect it. Even if she did, could she blame him? Darcy would not wish for Georgiana to marry a man who did not truly care for her—surely she would wish for her sister to be happy in marriage, instead of being forced into it by her mother.
“Of course, Miss Bennet is an estimable lady, Miss Elizabeth. That much is clear to anyone making her acquaintance.”
Not saying anything, Miss Elizabeth regarded Darcy for a moment, and he began to feel a little uncomfortable under the weight of her scrutiny. When she finally did speak, he was almost startled by the sound of her voice.
“Do you intend to be in town long, Mr. Darcy?”
“That remains to be seen, Miss Bennet,” replied Darcy. “We never remain into the summer, as the city becomes almost unbearable. I should imagine we will retire to the country, but we have not yet decided when.
“What of your plans? Do you plan to stay with your aunt and uncle long?” Darcy attempted to keep his question a casual query between friends, but he was not at all certain he had succeeded.
“For a week, Mr. Darcy. Then Jane and I shall return to Hertfordshire, and I imagine we will be there for the rest of the summer.”
Darcy digested this bit of information, wondering what he should do about it. He could hardly court Miss Elizabeth if she was in Hertfordshire and he at Pemberley, and the thought of asking Bingley for the use of Netherfield was not attractive, for obvious reasons.
“And shall you be active in London while you are here?” asked Darcy, filing her words about her return to Longbourn away for further consideration later. “I imagine you are a lover of theater and other cultural displays such as museums?”
Though she considered it for a moment, Miss Elizabeth responded, saying: “Yes, I do love museums and the theater. They are tolerable, and on some occasions, I find they are enough to tempt me to experience them.”
The turn of Miss Elizabeth’s phrase was familiar to Darcy, but he could not quite put his finger on where he had heard it.
“As for our particular plans,” continued Miss Elizabeth, “I do not know what my aunt and uncle are planning at present, though we usually do indulge in some outings when Jane or I are in London.”
“I hope you enjoy them, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Darcy, still puzzling over the words she had spoken.
The visit came to an end soon after, and Darcy and Georgiana took their leave, but not before Mrs. Gardiner promised a return visit, though she looked to Darcy to ensure his agreement, which he was quick to give. He understood—as the higher ranked, it would be his right to allow or deny it, and Mrs. Gardiner would wish to ensure it was expected before she presumed, regardless of the fact that the Darcys had initiated the acquaintance.
Before they left, Darcy bowed over Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth’s hands, though he was careful to take just a little extra time with the younger sister. It seemed from the looks he received that his civility had not gone unnoticed, but nothing was said on the subject. From Miss Elizabeth, herself, he could obtain no understanding of her feelings. Thus, it was a frustrated Darcy who left the Gardiner townhouse.
“What lovely ladies,” said Georgiana when they had entered the carriage.
“I am glad you like them, Georgiana,” said Darcy, with an absence of mind.
“I am curious, though, Brother,” said Georgiana. “They are not the kind of ladies to whom you would usually introduce me.”
Looking up, Darcy noted the expression of interest on his sister’s face, and though he knew that Georgiana would undoubtedly suspect, he was not ready to speak openly to her of his interest in Miss Elizabeth.
“Perhaps not,” replied he taking care to ensure his tone remained bland. “But they are worthy ladies, and not so much older than you that they cannot be friends. Miss Bennet is like you in essentials, and she would provide a good example to you of how a lady should act. And Miss Elizabeth’s liveliness in company is something both you and I lack. Being influenced by such ladies would benefit us both, I believe.”
“Then I will be happy to continue my acquaintance with them.”
Darcy nodded and lapsed back into his own thoughts, though Georgiana continued to chatter on about her new friends. As for Darcy, he could not help but puzzle over the phrase Miss Elizabeth had used, trying to recall where he had heard it before, wondering if it had somehow been meant as a message for him in particular.
It was when they had already arrived back at the townhouse when Darcy suddenly remembered, and he felt the blood drain from his face as the words came back to him.
She is tolerable. But she is not handsome enough to tempt me.
It was all he could do not to gasp out loud at the recollection. The carriage stopped in front of the door, and Darcy made himself disembark and help his sister down. Somehow, he managed to make his way inside the house, where Georgiana stated her intention to retire to her room. Darcy bid her farewell and then made his way to his study, and once there, he threw himself down on a chair in front of the fireplace.
“I suppose the ability to put one’s foot in one’s mouth is not confined to people of any particular situation in life,” muttered Darcy to himself.
No wonder she had taken such a decided dislike to him. Not only had he refused to stand up with her on
the first night of their acquaintance, but he had also insulted her. Not handsome enough to tempt him? Ha! The woman was more apt to drive him mad with her arched brow, those deep, beautiful eyes, and the playful look she used when she teased, to say nothing of her pert opinions, her intelligence and wit, and the sweet kindness she showed to everyone, not least of all his shy sister.
For a moment, he wondered about her vanity; he would have thought, given his experience with her, that she might have been more likely to simply laugh at him, rather than take offense, and he remembered her speaking with Miss Lucas and laughing with her immediately after. Now that he thought of it, and given his new understanding, Darcy was certain the conversation must have been about him, and likely his words.
“I am a fool. Of course, she would take offense. What woman would not, given such incivility? Insulting a woman at your first meeting is not the best way to impress a woman.”
The question was what he should do about it. He owed her an apology; that much was without question. But would such a confession and apology improve his standing with her, or would it worsen his cause? While he would like to think that such a show of contrition could only help, he could not be certain, and he did not wish to make another mistake.
He would have to watch and judge as best he could, Darcy decided. If the opportunity presented itself to apologize without mortifying her feelings or increasing her ire, he would take it.
Chapter XII
Returning the Darcys’ visit was an instructional experience for Elizabeth. She had known the man was wealthy, from the cut and quality of his clothes, to the rumors of his ten thousand a year which had raced through the neighborhood the previous autumn. But she had not known exactly what “ten thousand a year” meant other than a vague thought of never having to concern oneself with matters of a monetary nature.
When the three ladies entered the Gardiner carriage and it began rolling away from Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth kept a vigil out the window, more interested in where they were going than she wanted to confess. She did not miss the comments of her companions, though she did her best to ignore them.
“It seems to me that your sister is eager to arrive at our destination,” said Aunt Gardiner. “What do you suppose interests her so much?’
“A tall and handsome man, perhaps?” asked Jane, her tone all innocence.
Elizabeth turned a hard glare on her sister, surprised to hear Jane joining in the teasing, but her sister only raised an eyebrow, and Elizabeth, unequal to the thought of teasing in return, stayed silent and directed her gaze out the window.
“Surely it could not be a fine house, richly furnished. The Elizabeth Bennet I know would consider such things to be secondary.”
“But that does not render them unimportant. In addition to a man to adore her, every woman wishes for a man who can provide for her.”
“That is true, my dear. In your cases, given your family situation and the disposition of your father’s estate, I cannot but think it to be all that much more important.”
In this manner, Jane and Aunt Gardiner continued to speak, though their tone gradually progressed from teasing to earnest conversation. Elizabeth could not help but suppose her aunt—and to a lesser extent Jane—hoped that she would find felicity with Mr. Darcy. Though the knowledge did annoy her a little, she could understand it—not only did they wish her to be happy in life, but from her aunt’s perspective, she knew the Gardiners worried about their ability to support their nieces should something happen to her father.
The thought sobered Elizabeth. Despite her hesitance to ascribe anything good to Mr. Darcy, she knew her situation, and knew that she would not attract interest from many gentlemen, and perhaps never again from one of Mr. Darcy’s consequence. Thus, it would behoove her to think carefully and attempt to discover if the man would suit her.
The carriage progressed through the sometimes busy streets of London, first along Gracechurch Street and the congested jumble of carts, laden with goods, wagons, men on horseback, and the occasional carriage such as the one in which they rode. It was not long, however, before the character of the roads they travelled changed, and she began to see more obvious signs of affluence.
It started when Elizabeth noticed that the bustle of the busier districts began to fade away in favor of quieter thoroughfares, wider and cleaner, which seemed incongruous, given the greater congestion of those streets nearer her uncle’s house. Then the district changed from that which seemed to be a mixture of housing and business, to that containing nothing but residences, and those residences gradually grew larger and more stately the further they travelled. And by the time they drew close to the street on which the Darcy townhouse was situated, the townhouses were truly prodigious buildings, many boasting their own gardens, not to mention the costly materials from which they were quite obviously formed.
At length, the carriage stopped in front of a large house which looked to be old, but in good repair regardless. There was a soaring portico supported by massive columns, all done in some expensive stone Elizabeth could not name, but which appeared to be fine, but still functional. The driveway was large and would support several carriages should it be required, and it was fashioned from some reddish paving stone which looked to have been impeccably laid. And at the top of the portico, there was a large set of double doors made of some dark wood, standing several feet above Elizabeth’s head. It was truly a prodigious building, and one of the handsomest houses Elizabeth had ever seen.
“Impressive, is it not?” asked Aunt Gardiner.
“Is this what ten thousand a year buys?” asked Elizabeth. By her side, she noticed that Jane was staring at the building with as much awe as Elizabeth felt.
“Actually, my dear,” said Aunt Gardiner, “while I would not claim to understand all the intricacies of real estate, I suspect that Mr. Darcy’s income exceeds that figure you quoted by a substantial amount.”
Elizabeth was hardly able to fathom such a thing, so she remained silent. Her aunt took her speechlessness as an invitation to speak again.
“If you think this house is impressive, perhaps you should reserve judgment until you see Pemberley. It is many times the size of this house, and far more impressive.”
Elizabeth nodded—there was no other response to make. The carriage stopped in front of the portico and a waiting footman stepped forward and assisted the ladies from the conveyance. On the steps of the house, Georgiana Darcy was waiting for them, a sort of girlish excitement evident in her manner, and as they climbed the steps, Elizabeth decided to focus on the young girl who had impressed her, rather than continue to be in awe at the sight of the house.
When they approached, Miss Darcy favored them with an elegant curtsey, and then she clapped her hands, showing that she was still a young girl. There was little of the reticence which had characterized their last meeting.
“Welcome to my home! I am so happy you have come!”
“We were happy to return your call, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, grasping the girl’s hands with affection, noting that she was much more demonstrative now than she had been at the Gardiner townhouse. “You have a very lovely home, Miss Darcy.”
“Oh! It is wonderful, of course. But I hope you can see Pemberley someday. It is truly my family’s home, and both William and I adore it.”
With that, Miss Darcy led them into the house, and Elizabeth could not help but be impressed all over again. The massive entryway was tiled with marble, with a large staircase winding up toward the second floor, elegant and stately. There were more of the same columns as Elizabeth had noted outside in evidence here, and a wide hallway exited off to the right, where she assumed the public rooms of the house waited. And it was, indeed, in that direction that Miss Darcy led them.
“Perhaps I could show you more of the house later. For now, shall we not go in to tea?”
“That would be lovely, Miss Darcy,” said Aunt Gardiner.
They were led into a large, yet comfortable sit
ting-room, decorated in various muted shades of green and yellow, and there they were introduced to Miss Darcy’s companion, a Mrs. Annesley, who greeted them quietly, and with the manners of a truly well-bred woman. There they sat down to the promised tea, and some pleasant conversation with the young mistress of the house. As was perhaps natural, their conversation this time tended toward more personal topics.
“Your home is in Hertfordshire?” asked Miss Darcy after they had been sitting for some moments.
“Yes,” replied Jane. “Our father’s estate is four and twenty miles from London.”
“An easy distance then.” Miss Darcy made a face. “My home is three days’ travel from London. It is such a tedious journey—I was enamored with the scenery when I was younger, but now I have seen it so many times, that I just wish it would pass more quickly!”
Elizabeth laughed. “I can well imagine it, Miss Darcy, though I would suppose your love of your home renders the distance a little more bearable.”
“It does,” replied the girl with a shy smile. “Do you come often for the events of the season? Living so close I cannot imagine it would be any great hardship to come here.”
“Our father does not enjoy coming to London,” said Jane. “We do not have a house in town, and he declares that local society is sufficient for our needs.”
“He has sometimes said that London is a pit of vipers,” said Elizabeth with a smile at the girl.
“Oh!” exclaimed Miss Darcy. “I do not think that my brother appreciates London either, but he is insistent that we must come here. Our place in society demands it.”