by Heather Moll
“What other motivations could you have held?”
“I was concerned with the utmost force of passion required to overcome those objections in my own case.” Bingley’s eyes narrowed. “I found a lady in Hertfordshire that I was attracted to who, at the time, I deemed an improper candidate for marriage because of her lack of fortune and low connections. I felt…I felt utterly bewitched by her. I knew if you returned to Miss Bennet, I would often be thrown in the company of her sister.”
“Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy nodded with his eyes closed.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet? You were in love with Miss Elizabeth last autumn?”
“I was, although I can say with great feeling that I love her better now than I did then.”
“She was the sister I attempted to obtain for you as a dance partner at the assembly! I said she was pretty, but you barely allowed her to be tolerable and not handsome enough for you.”
Darcy winced; he was convinced his harsh remark would haunt him until he was in his grave.
Bingley continued with more energy. “But you and she argued at every opportunity! If truth be told, I would have assumed she disliked you. She never courted your attention nor sought your good opinion. I daresay that she preferred to provoke—” Bingley gave him a shrewd look. “Ah, I see. Yes, I can understand the allure she must have held. So you removed me from Miss Bennet because Miss Elizabeth has relations in trade and no fortune. Not suitable enough for your noble and honorable family?”
“Let it never be said that you are deficient in understanding.”
“This still does not explain your delivering Miss Elizabeth’s letters or even speaking to her of Miss Bennet and me while you were both in Kent.”
He did not want to mention his ill-worded—nay, unkind—proposal. His heart ached when he thought of losing Elizabeth forever had they not met in the Collinses’ drawing room the next morning. He did not want to share his innermost thoughts with anyone, save Elizabeth, but seeing Bingley’s habitually jovial countenance turned into an angry glower convinced him he could not remain silent.
“I came upon Miss Elizabeth alone one evening and asked her to marry me.” Bingley’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “I told her I had come to like her against my will and that my sense of her inferiority had finally been conquered. She said she could not accept the man who had ruined her sister’s chance at happiness. She had many other reasons for refusing me that I do not care to discuss, but I will say she was entirely justified. She told me I was the last man in the world whom she could be prevailed upon to marry.”
“Oh, Darcy!” He sighed heavily. “Why on earth are you coming with me to Hertfordshire? You will often encounter Miss Elizabeth. And you still have not answered why you delivered her letters to Gracechurch Street.”
“It was a way to begin to earn her forgiveness for my interference in her sister’s affairs. That the wish of giving happiness to her in the hopes she might think better of me, I cannot deny. I gave her a letter explaining myself the morning after my proposal, and it gradually removed her former prejudices against me. I have attended to her reproofs and believe I am now a gentleman worthy of her. We misjudged one another since the beginning of our acquaintance, and I have been properly humbled. During these past six weeks, we have come to know each better than we did throughout all the rest of our relationship.”
“You intend to petition for her hand a second time?”
Darcy allowed himself a smile. “I have already been accepted and need only to obtain her father’s consent.” He sighed with contrition. “Meddling in your affairs was beneath me, Bingley, and I beg you to forgive me.”
“It is not in my nature to be spiteful or merciless. I forgive you.”
Bingley spent the remainder of the journey speaking of Miss Bennet. Darcy knew he owed it to his friend to smile and agree that his “angel” was all that was lovely and beautiful as he continually asked for Darcy’s assurances of Jane’s regard. Although he would have preferred to tell his friend to decide for himself, Darcy was so pleased at having been forgiven that he readily eased Bingley’s mind.
“When I wrote my orders to Nicholls to prepare for our arrival, she responded with the goings on in the neighborhood. You will be delighted to know that Wednesday next is the midsummer assembly.” Bingley kept his tone neutral, but there was a hint of amusement about his eyes. Darcy attempted not to betray his displeasure, but based on Bingley’s roaring laughter, he assumed that his general opinion on public assemblies was well known.
“Come now, Darcy, I never met with pleasanter people than at the Meryton assembly! I promptly became acquainted with everyone in the room, and it could be to your advantage to attempt the same this time.”
Darcy knew that he would find people of little beauty and no fashion at any country assembly and told Bingley so. “I do concede that I should speak more and not appear as if the event was a punishment.”
“Miss Elizabeth’s criticisms must have been addressed for you to promise such a thing!” He laughed at Darcy’s expense then asked whether he would dance.
“I am certain that I can act with reasonable civility to everyone, Bingley. Must I also dance?”
“Yes, I think you must. And after you have danced with Miss Elizabeth, you must seek an introduction with young ladies not of your acquaintance!”
At Darcy’s icy stare, Bingley realized he had provoked his friend to the point of giving offense. Their conversation waned as each gentleman’s thoughts turned to the Bennet sister he most admired. Bingley wondered when he should call on Miss Bennet and whether she would dance with him at the assembly while Darcy decided to call on Mr. Bennet at the earliest possible hour the following morning.
Chapter 10
It was surprisingly cold for a June morning when Darcy rode to Longbourn. He was unable any longer to bear the confinement that the settled rain of the two preceding days had occasioned. Now that the weather had finally improved, he could go to Longbourn for his long-delayed call on Mr. Bennet.
When Darcy was shown in, Mr. Bennet scarcely opened his lips when he invited Darcy to sit and gave all the appearance of wishing he could indulge in a strong drink. He bypassed the social niceties and said, “You want to marry my Lizzy.”
As it became clear that Mr. Bennet was not going to speak further, Darcy willed himself, for Elizabeth’s sake, to act with forbearance. Nothing was more important to Darcy than marrying Elizabeth, and for her sake, he preferred to have her father’s blessing. Spiriting Elizabeth to Scotland in the middle of the night—after everything he suffered with Georgiana—did not appeal to his sense of honor as a gentleman.
“I have asked Miss Elizabeth to be my wife, and she has consented to make me the happiest of men. I am here to ask for your consent and your blessing.”
The clock on the mantle reached the top of the hour and the silence that followed Darcy’s request stretched out. For his part, Mr. Bennet appeared to vacillate between wanting to slump in his chair and wanting to forcefully remove Darcy from the room.
“Mr. Darcy, I understand that Lizzy has always disliked you. I am confident she accepted you for the considerable material advantages you can provide. As for you, as far as I am aware, you have never looked on her with anything more than, at best, a temporary enthrallment. I am surprised that you returned at all.”
Furious at the insult, Darcy stood and paced. If this were any other transaction or social discourse, he would have quit the room to keep his honor intact. But this was Elizabeth’s father, and he must secure his consent, if only to ease her mind. He would not, however, reveal what happened in Kent. To mention it to his closest friend was torturous enough; to speak of it to Mr. Bennet, a man who did not understand his own children nor hold him in any respect, would be unthinkable.
He aimed to speak resolutely and with civility. �
�I have every confidence, sir, that your daughter returns my affections and was not induced by wealth to accept my proposal. I have admired her since last autumn, so you may be assured that my interest is not fleeting.”
“Neither of you will escape discredit nor misery should you proceed with this marriage. A woman as spirited as my Lizzy will be unhappy with a husband she cannot respect, and she will be tempted to seek comfort outside of your marriage. You cannot wish to marry such a woman, and if you withdraw your suit, none could blame you.”
He was shocked her own father would accuse her of being likely to engage in licentious behavior. Elizabeth had a passionate temperament—a trait that was a manifold attraction rather than an aversion—but Darcy knew with certainty that the only man on whom she would ever bestow that ardent attention would be him. The idea that she would be unfaithful to me is absurd. He did not trust himself to speak without raising his voice and contented himself with silently glaring at Mr. Bennet.
“You will come to resent her lively mind, and she will soon grow weary of your proud manner. All your wealth in Derbyshire will bring neither of you comfort.”
“I cannot believe that Miss Elizabeth has told you nothing of the depth of her attachment to me.”
“On the contrary, Lizzy has convinced herself that she loves you and sings your praises! I shall not oppose the match. I shall have no peace from my wife if I do, and I cannot argue that you are unable to provide for my daughter. I offer my consent but no blessing. I shall say here and now that I think this match will ruin my Lizzy.”
Mr. Bennet’s comments did not deserve the compliment of a rational reply. Darcy had imagined a different conclusion to his petition. He had envisioned thanking Mr. Bennet for his blessing and promising to cherish Elizabeth always, but now he could barely conceal his anger at Mr. Bennet’s capriciousness and disrespect.
Mr. Bennet coolly observed, “I see no reason for you to remain, sir.”
Darcy promised to provide the settlement papers at his earliest convenience and, with a slight bow, strode out the door. He might have enquired of the servant in the hall after Elizabeth, but he was not then master of himself enough to speak without anger. Darcy, once his fury abated, would return this afternoon with Bingley. He mounted his horse and rode off.
***
Elizabeth was in high spirits as she rambled across the fields to return to Longbourn. Contemplation in the noisy Bennet household must be reserved for private hours and not a clement day went by without a solitary walk. Walking out alone, while not at all fashionable, offered Elizabeth both physical and emotional freedom, and as she walked, she realized that it was only when she was with Fitzwilliam that she felt similarly unrestricted.
Elizabeth cleared a stile and then tilted her head towards the sky and removed her straw bonnet. On hearing a rider approach, she turned and was greeted by a surprising and welcome sight. As the rider readied to jump the fence, Elizabeth attempted to catch his eye. She watched as his stern and serious expression brightened into something akin to delight as he recognized her.
He dismounted, and Elizabeth found herself crushed against Fitzwilliam’s chest as he buried his face in her hair. When he pulled away, he held her face between his hands. He appeared weary but nonetheless elated as he brushed a stray tendril of hair from her cheek. She was light-headed with joy, and his dark eyes were so intently focused on hers she almost forgot to breathe.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered.
She had expected he would kiss her, and was disappointed when something over her shoulder caught his attention. Upon perceiving a farmer with his horse and cart approaching, he stepped away. He gathered his horse’s reins and offered his other arm to Elizabeth, and they walked towards Longbourn. She thought she put aside her discontent at her loss of a kiss, but he asked what the matter was. She was tempted to give a little falsehood here, but decided that perhaps he could handle a bit of teasing.
“I fear that I have a fallen in your esteem, Mr. Darcy. You come upon me after a long absence but choose not to kiss me in greeting. I am excessively disappointed that you have tired of me so soon.”
His eyes were steadily fixed on her face, and his gaze showed a mixture of adoration and longing. “It would not do for me to greet you as I desire on an open country road. I may have lost my heart, but I have not lost my self-control. As much as I should like to kiss you, it would not benefit your reputation or mine to do so here.”
“You are fortunate to have ready so reasonable an answer.”
“It is also challenging for me to kiss one who continues to call me Mr. Darcy.” He kept a straight face that turned into a wide grin at the sight of Elizabeth’s surprised expression.
She laughed and then longed to say that he had kissed her several times without caring how she addressed him but thought it would be more gracious of her to simply address him by his first name at every appropriate opportunity.
“You are correct, Fitzwilliam.” She laid her head on his arm as they walked. “However, you accept the risk I may be absent-minded and wrap my arms around you and call you ‘my darling Fitzwilliam’ in front of Lady Catherine.”
Her dearest companion smiled. Elizabeth observed that, where she might have laughed jovially at such an amusing idea, Fitzwilliam was more likely only to allow himself to smile. She blushed at the memory of the time she did see him blissfully happy—when she agreed to marry him—and decided perhaps his enthusiastic response was the kindest compliment he could pay.
“I have been to see your father.”
The merriment she felt upon finding Fitzwilliam in the fields beyond Longbourn House vanished. She did not want to ask how the interview had passed; she only wanted to walk with her beloved and feel the sunshine on her face. To ask about the interview, to walk back to Longbourn, and to put her bonnet back on her head meant abandoning the joy and freedom she felt when she was alone with him.
“He did not refuse my request, but he…he takes no pleasure in our union.”
Elizabeth wished for a moment that her father had refused. It would have given her the privilege of feeling righteous indignation. But to learn that her father had not the conviction to refuse, but merely showed interest enough to express his ignorant displeasure, was painful.
“I did speak well of you. I told him how I have come to love you, but he chose not to hear me,” she said, her voice soft. “I know not how to convince him of your worthiness. After all you have endured to have me fall in love with you, I do not know how you could bear to have him accuse us of not being devoted to one another.”
“I am displeased, but the end result is the same. You and I are free to wed, and I intend to send the announcement to The Morning Post, The Gazette, and The Times. The banns may be published beginning this Sunday, and then we can marry.”
“Would you prefer a common license so your name need not be read in public?”
“I have no misgivings about my name being announced in public with yours.” He pulled her closer.
“My mother will prattle on about the necessity of a common license. She finds elegant all things that signify an additional expense.”
“If it would please you, I would purchase one.”
“No, it is not necessary. It is not as though we must marry in a hurry.” Elizabeth meant that they could marry after her trip to the Peak with the Gardiners, but when she saw the slight pink on his cheeks, she realized another interpretation of her statement. “I mean to say we would not marry until the end of August after traveling to Derbyshire, so a license is not necessary. Will you not return with me to the house?”
Fitzwilliam tactfully chose to ignore her embarrassment and said he would not but would return with Bingley soon. “I need time to steady my emotions if I am to encounter your father again. Will you inform your mother before I return?”
“Her manner of rec
eiving the information will be that of violent delight. I could not bear that you should hear her joy,” she wryly agreed, and at the gate they parted.
***
Not three hours later, the gentlemen together called to see the eldest Miss Bennets. Mrs. Bennet received them with a degree of civility that made her two daughters ashamed. Fitzwilliam looked serious as usual; she knew he could not be in her mother’s presence what he was when they were alone. She saw Mr. Bingley looking both pleased and embarrassed. Since Mr. Darcy was now secured for Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet undoubtedly felt that Mr. Bingley required all of her attention in order to obtain the same for Jane.
“Mr. Bingley, I beg you and Mr. Darcy to come here and fish in Mr. Bennet’s trout stream on Saturday. He would be pleased to show you all the best places, and you must take home as much as you wish. Mr. Bennet will even provide you with tackle if you do not bring your own. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you both!”
Mr. Bingley readily agreed, to Mrs. Bennet’s delight. His ease and cheerfulness were to his credit. Elizabeth knew Fitzwilliam had no desire to spend any time with her father, but he also agreed. He bore the ill-judged officiousness of her mother and heard all of her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance for which Elizabeth was grateful.
Elizabeth observed how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former lover. Every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. Mrs. Bennet focused all her energies on Mr. Bingley and Jane, and as Kitty took no interest in anyone’s conversation and Mary had returned to her instrument, the engaged couple were left in relative privacy.
“Georgiana requests I send her compliments to Lizzy and asks whether she may write to you.”