Implacable Resentment

by Jann Rowland

  And her mother did not cease her comments once they had arrived back at the house.

  “And where do you think you are going?” asked her mother’s voice, arresting her escape.

  “To my room, mother. It has been a long night, and I find that I am fatigued.”

  “Not yet, if you please. I believe that we should have some further discussion regarding your behavior.”

  So Elizabeth found herself in the parlor in the company of her mother, her two youngest sisters, a worried-looking Jane, and her father, who must have heard Mrs. Bennet’s words, though he had been riding with the driver due to the crowded interior of their small carriage. Mary had not deigned to join in the criticism, which was something at least to be thankful for.

  Once they were situated in the parlor, Mrs. Bennet cast her steely gaze upon Elizabeth. “Well?” demanded she. “What have you to say for yourself?”

  “I have not the slightest idea of what you speak, mother,” replied Elizabeth. She was determined not to simply take her mother’s abuse without defending herself.

  “I refer, of course, to your disgraceful behavior this evening!” said Mrs. Bennet.

  “What specifically do you object to, mother?”

  “You know perfectly well,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I have told you several times to stay away from Mr. Darcy and to not importune him, lest you ruin your sister’s chances with Mr. Bingley.”

  “Exactly how would I ruin Jane’s chances?” snapped Elizabeth. “Not only does Mr. Bingley not even notice me when Jane is nearby, but Mr. Darcy approached me tonight at Mr. Bingley’s suggestion. I do not believe that either man views me as an impediment to Jane’s chances with Mr. Bingley.”

  “Do not speak to you mother in such a tone, Elizabeth,” interjected her father.

  Elizabeth looked at him, expecting to find some censure in his voice or expression, but there was none. He was as unreadable as ever, and his rebuke was delivered with as much emotion as he might have displayed while swatting a gnat. Mrs. Bennet, however, looked positively smug that she had provoked her husband to deliver a reprimand.

  Almost grounding her teeth in frustration, Elizabeth fought for control of her temper, and in a voice as even as she could manage, she replied, “I shall remind you, mother, that as a woman, I have no control of who asks me to dance. Mr. Darcy asked me to dance and then suggested I drink some punch while we waited for the dance to begin. Do you believe I should have refused him and perhaps offended him? Or should I have simply ignored him, showing for all to see how improper and ill-mannered we Bennets are?”

  Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips, and after a moment’s thought, she said: “I believe it would be best if you did refuse him. In fact, in the future, perhaps you should not dance at all. That way, you will not risk affecting this family any more than you already have.”

  Now truly angry, Elizabeth shook her head and glared at her mother, ignoring the giggles which issued from her youngest sisters. “I shall not. It would be remarked upon and would reflect poorly upon us all. And furthermore, I shall not allow you to take away something which brings me pleasure.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at Elizabeth’s direct refusal. “You will oblige me!” Her words were nearly a shriek.

  “I will not,” replied Elizabeth in an unbending tone. “If you have brought me here for such silliness, then I wonder why I was summoned home at all. The Gardiners will be passing through shortly on their way to Ireland. Perhaps it is best that I accompany them, as I am obviously not welcome here.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s eyes narrowed, though it was likely more because Elizabeth might receive pleasure from such a trip than due to any desire on Mrs. Bennet’s part for Elizabeth to stay at Longbourn. Indeed, the Bennet matron had made it very clear that she did not wish to have Elizabeth in the house at all.

  “There is no need for you to leave,” rumbled Mr. Bennet, though he did not say anything further.

  Mrs. Bennet shot Elizabeth a triumphant glare. She then said, “You will oblige me and refrain from dancing.”

  “I shall not,” said Elizabeth.

  “I believe that it is time for us all to retire,” said Mr. Bennet.

  With that, Mr. Bennet rose, and though Mrs. Bennet appeared unwilling to let the matter go, he directed a quelling glare at her, and she subsided with a huff. Elizabeth was therefore left with the satisfaction of not allowing herself to be bullied by her mother. What exactly her father intended was a matter for conjecture—that he did not wish for her to leave was evident, though his reasons were still a mystery. At least he had not sided with her mother and forbidden her from dancing.

  By the next morning, everything returned to normal in the Bennet household. Mrs. Bennet seemed affronted by the fact that she had not been able to impose her will on Elizabeth and had taken to once again ignoring her. Being ignored, Elizabeth decided with somewhat of a philosophical bent, was far preferable to cutting remarks, and thus she found that she truly had little cause to repine. Not that she saw her mother until late afternoon that day—Elizabeth had risen with the sun and walked out, ranging further than she ever had before, and had not returned to the house until well after luncheon. It was while she was on that walk that Elizabeth met someone unexpected, but not unwelcome.

  It was a path which Elizabeth had quickly come to consider her favorite, though she had only discovered it in the past week. It started behind Longbourn’s church and wended its way through woodlands, past streams, and through valleys and up the sides of small hills, and at its furthest point from Longbourn, the trees to one side fell away and yielded up a fine view of the surrounding countryside. In particular, at the end of a long series of fields, Netherfield could be seen rising from the surrounding countryside, dominating the area like some ancient monolith. It was an impressive sight.

  As she approached the location where Netherfield became visible in the distance, Elizabeth heard the sound of horse’s hooves. Then the rider came around a bend in the path, and Mr. Darcy emerged astride his black stallion.

  “Miss Bennet,” greeted he as he swung down from his horse. “How do you do?”

  “Very well, indeed, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth.

  Mr. Darcy stepped nearer, holding his horse’s reins, and executed a short bow, which Elizabeth returned with a curtsey. The horse ambled closer, and Elizabeth reached forward and patted his nose, eliciting a snorting sound in response and a gentle nuzzling of her hand.

  “And who is this friendly fellow?”

  “This is Shadow,” said Mr. Darcy, introducing his horse with a smile. Shadow simply continued to nuzzle Elizabeth’s hand, no doubt hoping for some tasty morsels.

  Elizabeth laughed. “I am sorry, my fine fellow. I have not a carrot or anything to gift to you this morning. Should we meet again, I shall be sure to have something for you.”

  “I believe you have charmed him, Miss Bennet.”

  “He is quite friendly.”

  “That he is. He is eager to be pleased with everyone he meets, and I have never had a finer mount.”

  Presently, Shadow became more interested in some nearby hardy grass which was still defying the cooler temperatures brought on by the advancing stages of the year, and he began to graze.

  “Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”

  “I have not had the opportunity to learn, living these past years in London as I have,” said Elizabeth. “But I do love horses. They are such majestic creatures.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded and motioned toward the path. “Shall we continue on together?”

  Acquiescing, Elizabeth took his proffered arm and walked by his side, with his horse trailing behind.

  “I see you have discovered some of the more delightful paths in the area.”

  “As have you,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh. “The only walks available to me in London were in the nearby park. But I believe that the greater variety that the country affords suits me very well indeed. I believe I have missed my time in the
country.”

  “I am partial to the country myself,” said Mr. Darcy, his words snapping her back from the introspection into which she had fallen. “If not for the demands of society and the thought of preparing for my sister’s coming out, I should be happy to live in the country forever.”

  Smiling, Elizabeth looked up at her companion. “You speak of her in an affectionate manner, Mr. Darcy.”

  “She is my only close family. But as she has been my ward for these years since my father passed, our relationship has been more that of a father to a daughter.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Just sixteen. Yet she is womanly and handsome, though still somewhat shy and lacking in confidence.”

  Thinking of Lydia and her brash nature, Elizabeth replied, “Sometimes a little shyness is not a bad thing, Mr. Darcy. I rather think it helps to keep her from trouble.”

  Mr. Darcy laughed. “It might at that. I have never had to concern myself that she would stray. She is compliant and easy to care for, though I have been attempting to build her confidence in recent years.”

  “I am sure she is everything delightful.”

  The subject of Miss Darcy seemed to loosen Mr. Darcy’s tongue, and they spoke of her for some moments, Mr. Darcy telling her several stories of his sister’s exploits as a girl. His devotion and affection for the girl shone in his words, and Elizabeth was struck with the fact that he had, willingly and seemingly without complaint, taken on the guardianship of a much younger sister at a time in life when he should have been enjoying the life that a man of his station would normally lead at the tender age of two and twenty. Most young men did not come into their inheritance until they themselves had a wife and family. It spoke to Mr. Darcy’s constancy and sense of duty, but also his love for his sister.

  As Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walked, the topics of discussion turned to many different things, and Elizabeth felt that she was gaining a good impression of her walking partner. She was happy—it was a pleasure to be able to converse with an amiable and intelligent man. She could not imagine anything wanting in the gentleman by her side.

  When they parted, Elizabeth returned back to her family home, her thoughts full of her interactions with Mr. Darcy. Some part of her mind turned to the fancy of being the sole focus of his attentions, but she dashed that thought to the side as soon as it occurred to her. He inhabited a sphere high above hers, after all, and it would not do to indulge in thoughts which were very unlikely to ever come to pass.

  When Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, Jane, sweet sister that she was, met her at the door with expressions of concern, but Elizabeth assured her sister that she had felt the need for solitude and gone out walking that morning. Being the soul of discretion that she was, Jane allowed the matter to drop, though not without urging Elizabeth to let her know when she left the house so that she would not worry. Then Elizabeth returned to her room, still loath to deal with her mother and sisters, and there she began reading a book which was part of a small cache she had brought from London.

  After reading in her room for some time, Elizabeth sighed and put her book down. She had no desire whatsoever to be in the same room as her mother, but she felt that it would be remarked upon if she did not show herself at least once. So she gathered the threads of her determination and descended the stairs. But as she was about to enter the parlor, the sound of a voice interrupted her.

  “I understand you went walking today.”

  Surprised, Elizabeth turned to behold her father. He was standing in the open door to his bookroom watching her and wearing that infuriating emotionless mask.

  “I did, sir,” replied Elizabeth, instantly wary.

  “How far?”

  “Some miles, I suppose,” replied Elizabeth. She did not want him to know that she had met Mr. Darcy, so she prevaricated slightly. “I do not yet have a feel for the distances involved, but I went north and ended climbing a hill of some prominence.”

  That seemed to get a response from him, though in truth it was nothing more than a raised eyebrow. “North, you say?” When Elizabeth nodded, he rubbed his chin. “You climbed Oakham Mount then, which is easily two miles distant from Longbourn. More, in fact.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She had taken that path before, so she had an idea of the distance involved.

  Mr. Bennet seemed to struggle with indecision for a moment before he forced out in a gruff tone, “You must take care. You are still unfamiliar with the area, and we would not want you to become lost.”

  With those words, he disappeared again into his bookroom, and the door closed behind him. Elizabeth stood there for some minutes, wondering at the exchange she had just had with her father. Could it be that the man was beginning to soften toward her? Elizabeth could only hope so. It would make her stay in this house so much more bearable if she had her father as an ally rather than . . . well, whatever he was right now.

  While Elizabeth did not see a profound change in her relationship with her father, she was heartened by the fact that he seemed to look upon her with a little less disfavor than was his previous wont. Still, though she was marginally easier in his company, his silent stares never diminished, though to Elizabeth they seemed to take on an almost wistful quality. It was better than her mother’s overt hostility, however, and Elizabeth was forced to be content with the improvement, no matter how small.

  The next week also brought another change to the local community, as the long-awaited company of militia finally arrived in the area. Elizabeth’s two younger sisters particularly greeted the arrival of the regiment with an unbounded enthusiasm which was just bordering on impropriety. But they were not to be censured, for her mother was as excited as the two girls were themselves, notwithstanding her long marriage to Mr. Bennet and the fact that she was no longer a young girl. On the day of the militia’s arrival, Catherine and Lydia insisted upon walking to Meryton and greeting the company with all the enthusiasm that young teenaged girls could muster. Of course, though Elizabeth accompanied them, more due to a desire to leave the house then any desire to see the company of soldiers, she quickly discovered that Catherine and Lydia’s behavior mortified her in the extreme.

  The other unfortunate event which took place that week was the arrival of her aunt and uncle as they passed through on their way to Ireland. Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were not welcome at Longbourn; Elizabeth’s mother refused to exit the house to greet them, and the Gardiners did not enter the house themselves, though Mr. Gardiner did express his desire to speak with his brother-in-law after he greeted Elizabeth.

  “Is there any need for you to do so?” said Elizabeth.

  Her uncle looked at her, an intense expression upon his face, and Elizabeth felt as if she were once again a young child attempting—and failing—to get away with some mischief.

  “I merely wish to ensure that you are being treated well,” replied Mr. Gardiner.

  “How have you been here?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.

  “Well enough,” said Elizabeth. “My family has perhaps not been as welcoming as I would have wished, but I find that I am content. You need not speak with my father.”

  Her aunt and uncle looked at her with a skeptical eye, but Elizabeth regarded them calmly. She doubted that she would ever be completely happy or comfortable with her family, but they were her family, and at present, she had little choice but to make the best of her situation.

  “Truly, I am well. I pray you do not worry for me at all.”

  The Gardiners shared a look before Mr. Gardiner addressed Elizabeth again. “I am sure you understand that is impossible. Your aunt and I will never cease to worry for you so long as you are residing in this house.”

  “And I thank you for it,” said Elizabeth. “But I am quite comfortable, I assure you.”

  Mrs. Gardiner stepped forward and put her hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders, searching her eyes intently. “Are you certain it is not merely your desire to avoid inconveniencing us?”

  Privately, Eli
zabeth was aware that this was exactly what she desired, and Mrs. Gardiner had hit upon the crux of the matter without any effort at all. But she refused to impose upon her aunt and uncle any longer. The situation at Longbourn was not the best, but she was not as uncomfortable now as she had been when she had arrived. She could handle her family, and she was determined to do so. Her aunt and uncle had done so much for her, but now it was time for them to let her go.

  Thus, she stoically met her aunt’s concerned gaze, trying to put her at ease. “I shall not attempt to convince you that the situation is perfect. But I am well, I assure you. There is no cause for concern.”

  Elizabeth was subjected to the searching looks of her aunt and uncle, as she would have expected, but in the end, they gave way, though it was as much due to their trust in her judgment as to any faith in the Bennets. But it was what it was, and Elizabeth had already decided that she would continue with her family at Longbourn. The seeming improvement in her relationship with her father gave her hope that things would only get better.

  Mr. Gardiner exchanged a look with his wife, and Elizabeth recognized from his expression that she had not convinced them of the wisdom of her continued residence at Longbourn.

  “Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth,” said a voice, causing Elizabeth to turn in the direction of the door.

  The elderly housekeeper of Longbourn, Mrs. Hill, stood there, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Your mother requires your presence in the parlor.”

  As Elizabeth was about to respond, she was arrested by the voice of her uncle, who replied in a cold tone, “You may tell my sister that we are still speaking with Elizabeth. She will return to the house once our conversation is completed.”

  Mrs. Hill bobbed a quick curtsey, and though Elizabeth was not completely certain, she thought she saw a hint of an amused smile appear on the woman’s face as she turned away and entered the house once again. Bemused, Elizabeth turned to her uncle and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

  “Have you managed to turn Mrs. Hill against my family?”