by P. O. Dixon
Brooding fleetingly, she opined there had been a moment when she supposed the marriage would not happen. “Thank goodness for Mr. Darcy’s being there—”
Elizabeth, who had scarcely paid attention to a word her sister had spoken that evening suddenly took note. She looked up in time to witness Mr. Wickham nudge his wife to be quiet. Puzzled, Elizabeth wondered why Mr. Darcy was at Lydia’s wedding.
Wickham quickly changed the subject, speaking instead of his enthusiasm for his new commission. Too late. Elizabeth was sure she had heard her sister say Mr. Darcy was at the wedding, and she was determined to find out what she meant.
Elizabeth later came upon her youngest sister in the hallway. She quickly approached her. “Lydia, did I understand you to say Mr. Darcy was at your wedding? Why would Mr. Darcy be at your wedding?”
Lydia laughed. Placing her hand to her lips, she said, “Why would I say such a thing, Lizzy? You know my Wickham does not like Mr. Darcy. Everyone knows that.” She smirked and lowered her voice. “Besides, it is supposed to be a great secret.”
Wickham hurriedly joined Elizabeth and Lydia upon espying them speaking in hushed whispers and grabbed his wife by her elbow.
“Say good night to your sister.” His tone was brutish and intimidating, and he led her away with a little too much enthusiasm, leaving Elizabeth standing there, aghast, her mouth wide opened.
She shook her head. Poor Lydia.
Chapter 13
With the excitement of the past weeks, it had slipped everyone’s attention that Kitty was to accompany Miss Maria Lucas to Hunsford to visit her sister, Charlotte, and her sister’s husband, Mr. Collins.
Lydia’s actions had the unintended consequence of a sterner, more conscientious Mr. Bennet, who proclaimed that under no circumstances was his next youngest daughter to escape his sight before attaining the age of eighteen.
His edict made for two particularly unhappy young ladies, both of whom had looked forward to the trip with such heightened anticipation. Charlotte had proposed the perfect remedy. If Kitty could not travel to Hunsford, perhaps her dear friend, Eliza, would come in her sister’s stead.
Kitty was gravely disappointed with the scheme, but there was nothing to be done about it now, not as long as Mr. Bennet determined to make up for a lifetime of fatherly neglect. Miss Lucas was agreeable. There remained only one person to be persuaded—Elizabeth.
To Charlotte’s letter in recommendation of the scheme, Elizabeth responded:
... So much has changed since your invitation to my sister, Kitty, to accompany your sister to Hunsford. I am reminded of Mr. Collins’s letter to my father where he spoke fairly eloquently on the grave affliction all my family was suffering under, and how the demise of my youngest sister would have been a blessing in light of her shame.
Mr. Collins went on to expound how poor Lydia’s false step has injured the fortunes of the rest of us, for who will connect themselves with such a family and further congratulated himself on having escaped involvement in such sorrow and disgrace.
Pray tell, dear Charlotte, am I to impart such dishonour upon his doorstep?
Charlotte’s response was prompt and succinct, and included words to the following effect:
... My dear husband is cognizant of the wrong that has been righted by Lydia’s fortuitous marriage, with my having reminded him of the magnificence of Christian forgiveness.
Mind you, my dear Eliza, there is also the matter of my having spoken highly in your favour many times in the presence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She looks forward to making your acquaintance, and my husband is ever mindful of attending his noble patroness’s every desire.
Dare I beg for the opportunity to entertain my dearest friend in my new home?
Elizabeth responded promptly.
... I shall be happy to visit you in my sister’s stead.
Soon enough, a travel date was set.
* * *
News of Mr. Bingley’s imminent return to Netherfield Park did not take long to reach Mrs. Bennet’s hearing, and sooner than she had expected, but much longer than she had wished, he came to call.
One moment, Elizabeth sat next to the window observing Kitty lulling about in the yard, undoubtedly bemoaning her fate. The next moment she looked up as Kitty raced into the room. “Jane, Mama, Mr. Bingley is coming.”
Everybody in the room except Jane raced to the window to have a look. Sure enough, it was Mr. Bingley. They would have recognised his blazing red hair from a mile off.
“What a great honour it will be to receive Mr. Bingley! And look, he is not alone.” Mrs. Bennet strained her eyes to make out his companion. “Why, it is the proud, disagreeable Mr. Darcy. What on earth is he thinking in coming here?”
She turned away from the window, rushed to the mirror above the mantel, and smoothed her hair. “What is there to be done now, but to make the best of it? Mr. Bingley is the one who counts.”
Turning her attention to Elizabeth and her sisters, she said, “Make haste, everyone. Do not stand there. Take your places. We must not appear too eager.”
As soon as the gentlemen were announced, Elizabeth noticed two things as regarded her mother’s behaviour towards the guests. She seemed unforgiving towards Mr. Darcy for his rudeness when they had made his acquaintance last year, and towards Mr. Bingley, her every grievance had fallen along the wayside.
Both Jane and Elizabeth were uncomfortable enough merely being in the company of the two gentlemen once again. Elizabeth had said nothing to her sister of even having seen Mr. Darcy during her stay in town, much less, that she had rejected his hand in marriage.
How might she tell Jane of any of that without confiding in her sister her failed purpose in going to town in the first place? Perhaps, had she accomplished her objective in going, she might have been more open with her sister. Now, she would not have to say anything. It seemed Mr. Darcy had heeded her request and purposely brought his friend to call on her sister as a means of atonement for his officiousness in separating them.
Elizabeth did not know what to think and decided, instead, to be a quiet studier of the unfolding events.
Once again, Elizabeth suffered the shame of having a mother who wore her opinion of the two gentlemen proudly upon her sleeves. Mrs. Bennet had resolved to be civil to Mr. Darcy, allowing as he was Mr. Bingley’s friend. She was failing miserably.
When able to act with impunity, Elizabeth rested her eyes upon the object of her regret. He looked serious and nowhere near as comfortable as she remembered seeing him their last evening together at Lord Latham’s estate, when he had been charming and attentive. How could she blame him? Every word her mother ventured to speak in assurance of Mr. Bingley’s comfort, she appended with a snide remark intended for Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth watched in horror as her mother ingratiated herself with Mr. Bingley by talking of the local happenings since he returned to town, including Charlotte’s marriage to Mr. Collins and Lydia’s marriage to Mr. Wickham.
Her mother’s antics, the mention of Mr. Wickham’s name, it all recalled Elizabeth to her shame in misjudging Mr. Darcy’s character. Elizabeth dared not lift her eyes. Therefore, how Mr. Darcy reacted, she knew not.
Mrs. Bennet went on to complain of the hardship in having her youngest daughter settled far from her home, and her son-in-law’s diminished circumstances pursuant to the denial of the rights he ought to have had.
Elizabeth determined to change the subject at once. “Mr. Bingley, do you intend to remain at Netherfield long?”
All eyes were drawn to Elizabeth, including Mr. Darcy’s. How she wanted to offer a silent apology, but she knew not how without raising eyebrows. Whilst gazing at Jane wistfully, Bingley responded that he had come down for shooting and planned to remain but a few weeks.
Again, her mother took it upon herself to say something ridiculous in that all the best coveys might be saved for him, if he would but consider shooting on the Longbourn estate, increasing Elizabeth’s misery by tenfold
at such obsequiousness. She wondered how Jane fared. She suspected her eldest sister suffered an equal measure of embarrassment without knowing for sure. Her sister had only begun to regain a semblance of her former spirits. Though the two had not spoken of Jane’s heartbreak since Elizabeth’s return, Jane’s every action signalled she had resigned herself to her fate, and she did not intend to live the rest of her life being sorry about it.
An end to Elizabeth’s mortification was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Bennet continued her copious consideration towards the one gentleman, her cold civility towards the other.
“Mr. Bingley, might I remind you that you are quite in my debt. You promised to take a family dinner with us. I do hope you will join us this evening.”
“I shall be delighted to join your family for dinner.”
The broad smile that brightened Mrs. Bennet’s face disappeared when she turned to his friend. “You are welcome to join us, too, Mr. Darcy.” Her manner of speaking, however, belied the sincerity of her invitation.
“I am honoured by your offer. However, I cannot accept it. I am to return to town later today.”
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened at the sight of Mr. Darcy arising from his seat.
Bingley looked conflicted. “Shall I accompany you back to Netherfield and see you off?”
“I rather suppose you would much prefer to stay and enjoy your present company. I shall be off to London in but a few hours.”
After he had disappeared through the doorway, Elizabeth kicked herself. He had come all this way. Surely, it must count for something.
Do not sit here, her regretful heart shouted. Make some excuse, whatever excuse is necessary. Do not leave it like this.
“Please pardon me, Mama, Mr. Bingley, Jane ... I need a breath of fresh air.”
By the time Elizabeth walked out the door, any sign of Mr. Darcy’s having been there had vanished. Deciding to walk anyway, she set about on an overgrown path towards the grove. There she found comfort in the shade of a large oak tree. She sat and folded her arms over her knees. Thoughts of everything that took place all but placated her mind.
What was his purpose in coming? Surely, he did not come only to be silent, grave, and indifferent. Was it merely to accompany his friend? Did his visit have nothing to do with the hope of seeing me? Have I lost his good opinion forever?
After a while, she stood to return to the house. Mr. Darcy appeared directly ahead of her in the path. Both smiled awkwardly, as befitted the first occasion of their being alone since their bitter argument. They walked towards each other in silent acquiescence.
“Mr. Darcy, I thought you had left for Netherfield Park.”
“No. Actually, I have been enjoying the view from the pond. I must beg your pardon. I wanted a moment alone. Mrs. Bennet—your mother, I suppose I am not one of her favourite people.”
Elizabeth felt the colour rise in her cheeks. She understood his sentiments too well. Her mother had been everything accommodating and pleasant to Mr. Bingley, and unaccommodating to the point of being rude to Mr. Darcy.
“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. I had not intended to be unfeeling.”
“You have no need to apologise to me. I believe I should be thanking you for bringing Mr. Bingley here to see my sister.”
The two begin a slow pace back towards Longbourn House.
“You need not thank me. Bingley spoke of his desire to return to Hertfordshire after having seen you at Lord Latham’s home. He sought my opinion on the matter, and I said I would be happy to accompany him.”
“Is that everything you said, Mr. Darcy?”
“I am afraid so, Miss Elizabeth.”
“The material point is he has returned.”
“Yes, that is the point. Let us hope for a happy resolution for both your sister and my friend.”
“As happy as I am for Mr. Bingley’s return, will he not be a bit disappointed in your leaving so soon upon your arrival?”
Elizabeth felt an accustomed uncertainty by the look he bestowed. Could he tell that her question of disappointment had more to do with her own sentiments?
“I imagine it seems I am rushing off. However, I have prior plans I can postpone no longer. I have every intention of returning. All things considered, it is probably for the best that I leave. Bingley does not need the distraction of entertaining me, when he had better spend his time—”
Elizabeth interrupted, “I shall not be here to watch over the happy couple either. I, too, have made plans to be elsewhere.”
“May I enquire of your plans?”
“Do you remember my friend Charlotte?”
“Yes, I do remember her. Your mother spoke of her having married.”
“She is now married to my cousin, Mr. Collins. I am to visit them in Hunsford.”
Mr. Darcy smiled. “Then, I have good cause to hope we shall soon be in each other’s company again. Georgiana and I will be guests at Rosings Park.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly as she dared to hope they might have a second chance.
“Pray tell me my news does not disappoint you, Miss Elizabeth, to know we shall be in proximity soon.”
“No. I welcome a chance of spending time with Miss Darcy again.”
“She will be delighted to know that. She is fond of you.”
“Indeed. I am rather fond of her, though I did not always express it as well as I should have. I shall endeavour to make amends when next we meet.”
“Indeed, I have a bit of fence mending to attend, as well.”
The two walked on in quiet companionship until they came to the gate, for Elizabeth’s part, planning what their next meeting would bring even if she felt a bit unsteady in what seemed an unspoken armistice. Mr. Darcy parted from her in the usual way, and walked in the opposite direction, leaving Elizabeth with a silent prayer that he, too, suffered a heaviness of heart befitting repentant lovers who longed for a brighter tomorrow.
Days later, Elizabeth scurried between her wardrobe and her bed, packing the last of the belongings she wished to take on her trip to Hunsford. She was to be away for three weeks. Jane lent her sister a hand as they also discussed the unfolding courtship with Mr. Bingley.
“Far be it from me to give anyone advice of the heart. However, you are my dearest sister. I wish for nothing more than your happiness. I encourage you to give Mr. Bingley a second chance.”
Though keeping her thoughts on the matter to herself, she had observed how Jane had spent her time with Mr. Bingley since his return—guarded, with a measure of hope. Elizabeth sat beside Jane on the bed and took her by the hand.
“Jane, I do not blame you one bit for feeling as you do. However, anyone who has seen the way he looks at you can see he is in grave danger of falling as much in love with you as ever he was before.”
“Mr. Bingley assures me that he shall remain here for as long as it takes, which must be some evidence of his constancy. Though I will allow that I had resolved should he and I ever meet again, it would be as nothing more than casual acquaintances, the fact of his coming back and his willingness to remain here as long as it takes to erase my lingering doubts, fills my heart with joy.”
“Oh, Jane, my heart is filled with joy for you. I am certain that, by the time of my return from Hunsford, Mama will be in the midst of planning the grandest wedding the neighbourhood has ever witnessed.”
Chapter 14
Elizabeth and Maria had not quite spent a quarter of an hour alone with Charlotte in her parlour when Mr. Collins, a tall, heavy-looking young man of five and twenty, threw opened the door and rushed inside. Out of breath, he bore exciting news that they were invited to tea at Rosings Park that afternoon.
Elizabeth had no doubts on how this must please Maria immensely, for the young lady had anticipated meeting the venerable Lady Catherine de Bourgh with the eagerness of a young maiden being presented at court. Elizabeth’s own sentiments were a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. In spite of her recent accord with Mr. Darcy, she did not know what
she might expect of him in the company of his august family. Which man would she next meet?
Their party had entered the grand antechamber of Rosings Park when Charlotte remembered what she had neglected to tell her dear friend. With an apologetic smile, Charlotte placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm, slowing their progress.
“What is the matter, Charlotte?”
“My dear Eliza, I meant to tell you that Mr. Darcy is visiting his aunt. I know how much you dislike him.”
It embarrassed Elizabeth that she had been so open in expressing her disdain for Mr. Darcy to all who would listen, when they first met. “Oh, Charlotte! My feelings for Mr. Darcy are so decidedly opposed to what they were last autumn.”
Charlotte raised her eyebrow in bemusement. Elizabeth smiled sheepishly, grateful for the reprieve from her friend’s inquisition as they were shown into the parlour.
When the ladies were introduced to Lady Catherine, she proceeded to introduce Elizabeth to her nephew, Mr. Darcy. Unable to wait a moment longer, Darcy interrupted his aunt by taking Elizabeth’s hand and raising it to his lips.
“Miss Elizabeth, I have looked forward to seeing you.”
Elizabeth smiled. He did not immediately release her hand, and she did nothing to encourage its freedom.
“The two of you know each other?”
“Yes, your ladyship. Miss Elizabeth and I are acquainted.” He remembered to let go.
Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte. She could only imagine the thoughts racing through her clever friend’s head, pondering why she no longer disliked the gentleman from Derbyshire, and wondering when the obvious change in sentiments had come about. Thank goodness for Charlotte’s sycophantic husband who broke the growing tension in the room by falling all over himself in an attempt to amend for what he deemed his lapse in proper decorum.