by Ola Wegner
The sun began lowering on the skyline, but Mr. Darcy had not arrived. Elizabeth began to wonder what could have kept him away, because she was sure he would pay her a visit the same day he returned to the neighbourhood.
Closer to dinner time, a man came, whom Elizabeth recognised as one of Mr. Darcy’s servants, bringing a small parcel for her.
She ran upstairs to her room and tore the wrapping with impatient hands. There was a book inside and a note, with Elizabeth written in a strong hand.
She sat close to the window, opened the seal and began to read.
My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,
I dearly hope you are in good health, the same as when I last saw you. When we spoke, I said that I would return to you in two days' time, but some unexpected circumstances have detained me in London. My sister, Georgiana, insists on meeting you, and wants to travel with me to Hertfordshire. I know for certain that the Militia is to leave by the end of the week, so we will probably arrive on Monday afternoon, as there will be no risk of her meeting W.
I think about you every day, my love. I passed by a bookshop today and noticed this book, thinking you would like to read those poems. I saw you reading Wordsworth in the past, and this is the newest selection of his poetry. I hope you will enjoy it.
Yours,
F. Darcy.
There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Bennet came in.
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth turned to her. “Yes, Mama.”
The woman walked closer. “What does he write?”
“He is coming back on Monday.”
“What has he sent you?”
“A book of poems.”
“Does he write anything about Mr. Bingley, about Purvis Lodge?” Mrs. Bennet asked in a whisper.
Elizabeth folded the note. “No, Mama, he does not. ”
“He does not,” Mrs. Bennet sighed fretfully.
“No, but he says that he will bring his sister with him so I can meet her.”
“His sister, that is good. The girls will have new company,” she said listlessly. “Come, Lizzy. We have fish for dinner, the way you like it.”
***
On Thursday evening, there was a farewell party thrown in honour of the Militia by Aunt Phillips at her house in Meryton. The Bennets came, as expected, sans Mr. Bennet, who rarely attended such gatherings. The two youngest girls were in despair, which fact they thought necessary to announce every hour of the day, beginning at breakfast, because the officers were leaving the neighbourhood. Together with their mother, they had already started pressing Mr. Bennet to take them to Brighton for the summer, which, not surprisingly, Mr. Bennet had no intention of doing. Elizabeth could not imagine her father at such a crowded place, away from his beloved books and the peace of his library.
In usual circumstances, Elizabeth would have rejoiced at the opportunity to spend the evening in pleasant company, but this time she was much less eager to go. She never doubted what Mr. Darcy had told her about Wickham. There had been real pain in his voice and expression as he had spoken about what had happened to his sister.
As for her so-called friendship with Mr. Wickham, she had learned once and for all not to believe so easily in people who liked to tell unfavourable stories about others to strangers.
The gathering at her aunt’s house was not planned as a ball, but Elizabeth was not surprised that it had eventually evolved into one. It was, after all, the last opportunity to engage the officers in dancing.
Elizabeth was asked to dance the first, but refused, doubting whether she would be able to behave with ease and politeness passing by Mr.Wickham for half an hour as he danced the same set with Lydia.
She sat next to Jane, and they began to talk in quiet voices about the matter which had emerged with the arrival of today’s post. Elizabeth had received a letter from the Gardiners, inviting her to accompany them on their planned July trip to the Lakes. It was Elizabeth’s long time dream to see the place, and she was decided to thank her aunt and uncle kindly for their invitation and accept.
“You must first ask Mr. Darcy before you accept their invitation, Lizzy.” Jane noted.
Elizabeth bristled immediately. “Why should I? Papa has agreed. I have already asked him.”
“Sister, you know you should consult Mr. Darcy as well, not only with Papa.”
Elizabeth folded her arms on her chest, in a childlike gesture. “He cannot forbid my going.”
“No, of course not.” Jane soothed, “He will be your husband one day though. You need to discuss such trips with him.”
“He did not tell me he intended to buy Purvis Lodge,” Elizabeth argued, “Why I should consult him?”
“Lizzy, you are too hasty in reaching your conclusion. I am sure he wanted to tell you, but perhaps he did not have the opportunity. I think that during those rare moments when you are together alone, he does not want to talk about business.”
“Perhaps.” Elizabeth admitted reluctantly.
“Has it not occurred to you that he would like to take you there one day, knowing it has been your wish for a long time? He seems eager to please you,” Jane pointed out.
Elizabeth looked at her sister, into her kind, smiling eyes. Jane was right as always. She should discuss the matter with Mr. Darcy.
“Miss Elizabeth, may I ask you for the next set?” Mr. Wickham’s rich, pleasant voice caught her attention.
“No, thank you,” she answered briskly.
Wickham looked surprised, but there was something more in his expression as he glanced down at her.
“Are you unwell tonight?”
Elizabeth forced a smile. “I am very well, Mr. Wickham, simply not inclined to dance.”
Wickham’s eyes did not leave her. “I hear of major changes in your life. Darcy is a happy man, I dare say. Some people are given all the best in life, while others are not so lucky.”
Elizabeth barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Mr. Wickham stepped into his plaintive melody one more time. She glanced at Jane, whose corners of her mouth lifted in the slightest of smiles. Jane, of course, knew of everything Mr. Darcy had told her.
“I think that Mama, needs me,” Jane stood up. “Excuse me, Mr. Wickham.”
Wickham bowed as Jane walked away with her usual grace.
“May I?” he pointed to an abandoned chair.
“Please,” Elizabeth said unsmilingly and turned her face towards the dancing couples as the next set had just started.
“We were good friends once, Miss Bennet,” Wickham noted after a while.
“Were we?” she laughed, not looking at him. “I have always considered that people could be referred to as friends only if they are perfectly sincere with one another.”
It silenced Wickham for a while, but some minutes later, he tried to begin conversation again.
“I hear that you will know Pemberley very well in the future and even live there.”
“Yes, it seems so,” she agreed in a calm voice.
“I must congratulate you then. It is a beautiful place, and I am sure you will like it there. I am jealous because I will never be able to return there.”
Elizabeth turned her whole person to him at last. “Oh, come now, Mr. Wickham, do not pretend to be the one harmed. I know exactly what happened between you and the Darcys and whose fault it is that you will never be admitted at Pemberley. I wish you more luck in Brighton, Mr. Wickham, with your tales of misfortune.” She stood up, “Excuse me.”
She was astonished when she felt Wickham’s fingers clench on her forearm.
“You are mistaken, Miss Elizabeth,” he murmured.
“Let me go,” she said, stressing each word.
He took his hand off her, but leaned forward. “Let me explain myself, you do not know...”
Elizabeth cut in, “I do not intend to listen to you or speak to you any more. After what you have done, you should not be admitted into the homes of decent people like my aunt and uncle. I ask you not to bother me anym
ore, or I will have to relate this to Mr. Darcy.”
Without a second glance at the man, she walked away. Thankfully, he did not seek her company any more that evening.
***
“What is she like, Brother?” Georgiana Darcy asked eagerly as she observed the passing scenery, their carriage just entering the Meryton outskirts.
Darcy smiled. “I have already told you about her.”
“I want to learn more. I already know that she likes walking, reading, plays the piano forte very well, and has a very sweet voice when she sings. She has dark hair and very beautiful, expressive dark eyes.” Georgiana counted on her slim fingers.
Darcy’s smile grew wider. His sister had not yet met Elizabeth, and already she seemed happier and more animated.
“Is that not enough?” he asked.
Georgiana shook her head. “No, it is not.”
“You will meet her tomorrow and will be able to see for yourself what she is like.”
The girl frowned. “Tomorrow? Why not today?”
“It is quite late today, and I thought that you wanted to refresh yourself after the journey.”
“I am not tired, Brother. I want to go to Longbourn now.”
Because it was Darcy’s desire as well, he smiled. “As you wish.” He opened the window to get the attention of the driver to take them directly to Longbourn.
They had only been separated a week, and he had missed her so. He had read, perhaps twenty times, the note which she had sent him back through his man, thanking him for the book. He doubted whether he would be separate from her for more than a day when they would at last be married.
He was uncertain whether the Bennets expected them to visit the same day they returned to the neighbourhood. He only hoped Elizabeth was home.
When they stopped in front of the manor, he noticed that the house was unusually quiet. There were no tortured sounds of an ill used pianoforte or shrieks over the ownership of a bonnet.
“What a pleasant house” Georgiana said, looking curiously around, her blue eyes stopping at the manicured bed flowers, green lawns, and sparkling large windows.
His sister was clearly determined to like everything connected with his intended. He glanced around with a frown of his own; perhaps she was right. The house did not look half that bad, quite affluent, indeed, and well taken care of. Collins would inherit a very good estate one day.
They were asked into the smaller parlour, occupied only by two members of the family, Elizabeth and Miss Bennet.
Darcy wished to walk straight to Elizabeth, kiss and hug her, talk with her and many things more, which, understandably, he could not do in front of their sisters.
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, this is my sister, Georgiana,” he spoke with pleasure and observed as Elizabeth walked closer. “Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the future Mrs. Darcy,” he finished the introduction with pride, noticing the intense blush steadily covering Elizabeth’s lovely face, down her neck, and lower. Were there more places she blushed?
As they sat down and Jane rang for refreshments, Darcy watched with pleasure as Elizabeth talked with Georgiana, working her usual charm on the girl. His sister smiled a lot, answered all the enquiries and even asked her own. He preferred to be silent, allowing his women to get better acquainted.
“We are all alone at home today, Mr. Darcy. We expected your visit tomorrow,” Jane voice brought his attention.
Darcy went tense all over. “That was the initial plan, but Georgiana was eager to meet Elizabeth yet today.” he murmured. He did not like interacting directly with Jane and tried to avoid it. Deep in his heart, he felt guilty about what he had done, separating Bingley from her.
“Our father went to London for a few days this morning on business, while our mother and younger sisters went to visit Aunt Philips.” Jane explained.
“I see.” Darcy said only.
Jane kept smiling at him kindly, and in response, he managed a half smile on his own.
“Miss Darcy,” Jane said some time later, glancing at Darcy, who at the same moment was contentedly staring at Elizabeth. “Would you like to see the garden? It will be my pleasure to show it to you.”
Georgiana looked to her brother for approval and then at Elizabeth, guessing Jane’s intentions to leave the couple alone. “Yes, I would, Miss Bennet.” She stood up, “I admired the bed flowers in front of the house as we came.”
As their sisters departed, and they were left alone, Elizabeth walked to him. “It seems we are at our sisters’ mercy. They are determined to leave us in each other’s company.’
“I cannot complain about that. On the contrary, I am grateful.”
He took her hand and kissed it. He wanted more, but after what had happened last time, he now needed to prove to her that he could control himself and that she could trust him.
She gazed into his eyes for a long minute, then closed her own, lifted up on her feet, and tilted her face. It was the exact invitation he needed.
She was sweet and willing in his arms, and he strived to be gentle to keep the exchange innocent.
“I missed you,” he said as he lifted his lips from hers. Her eyes were closed and she seemed dazed.
“It was only a week.” she whispered, as she opened her now misty eyes.
He walked back and sat back blindly on the nearest seat, pulling her onto his lap. “On my way here, I was thinking that I will not be able to part from you for more than a day once we are married.”
He tugged the edge of her sleeve away and kissed the newly exposed skin of her smooth, creamy shoulder, then rubbed his cheek against it. “Now I think that one hour would be too long.”
She pulled from him. “You are scratchy.”
He kissed the reddened spot and pulled the sleeve back in place. “I am sorry, love. I should shave twice a day, so as not to leave whisker burns on your skin.”
She leaned against him more comfortably, and he tightened his hold on her. He was happy to be silent, simply holding her, relishing in her presence so close to him.
A while later, she spoke at last, with hesitation, “You bought Purvis Lodge.”
“Yes, I came to the conclusion that a house in the neighbourhood would be useful.” he explained, “I imagined you would wish to visit your family in the future. We will need a comfortable place to stay.”
In his personal opinion, Longbourn was not a household where a man could spend even one night in peace and quiet, with those wild girls running from room to room till late in night. He restrained himself from saying this aloud; it was not necessary, and she would probably become upset with such a remark.
“We could stay at Longbourn at such times.”
“What about when we have children? There will not always be just the two of us,” he pointed out. “Longbourn is too small, I dare say, to admit that many guests.”
Elizabeth frowned and released herself from his hold, standing up.
He caught her hand.
“We must talk in earnest,” she said, looking down at him.
His heart tugged in worry. She sounded exactly like that morning in the grove in Kent, when she had acted as if she had been about to break off their engagement. “Has something happened?”
She nodded. “Yes, two matters actually; one much less serious than the other, but we must discuss both of them.”
He enclosed her hand in both of his. “As you wish. I will listen to you.”
Elizabeth freed her palm and stepped to the window, “I see our sisters coming back. We must postpone it.”
He walked to stand behind her. “I will find an opportunity for us to talk in private.”
She turned to him with a smile. “That may not be that easy. We were lucky today.”
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth stood in the corner of the spacious drawing room at Lucas Lodge, watching her sisters dance a Scottish dance while Mary accompanied them on the pianoforte. The evening had begun as a simple dinner party, but like every la
rge gathering in the neighbourhood, it had evolved into a small ball.
Her feet itched to partake in the entertainment, but no one had asked her. She looked up at the tall man standing close beside her. Mr. Darcy could have asked her, but he had not, though she loved fast dances. He must have known how much she enjoyed them; he had stared at her often enough last autumn to notice. She was guessing that no other man dared approach her and ask her, when she had a dark, brooding shadow beside her for the entire evening.
Elizabeth knew that she still had to speak with Darcy about Mr. Bingley and the role he had played in the separation of his friend and Jane. Unlike the matter of Wickham, in this case, there could be no misjudgement on her part. Colonel Fitzwilliam had accidentally testified to Darcy’s involvement in the whole affair.
In the course of the last few days she had lacked the opportunity to have a serious conversation with Darcy. It required some time alone, so no one could interrupt or hear them. However, as she was putting much effort into becoming better acquainted with Georgiana, she had little time left to spend with her brother.
Elizabeth had to admit that Miss Darcy was a lovely girl, sweet and unspoiled, adored her brother and wanted to please him. At the same time, Georgiana was shy and unsure of herself, doubting her beauty and accomplishments. The way she spoke about Darcy was always with love and respect, rather as if he was the most important person in the world for her. Such great affection and attachment for her brother turned out to not be surprising at all when Elizabeth heard from the girl more of their family history.
Georgiana did not remember her mother, who had died when she had been just a year and a half old. Judging from what Georgiana said about her father, he had never recovered from his wife’s death, and passed away himself when she was eleven. It seemed that the girl had been mostly brought up by their housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, and a very busy brother, who had to compromise his own education to take care of the girl twelve years his junior and to run the large estate, plus attend other family business from a very early age.