Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner

by Jack Caldwell

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. She was now certain that Mr. Darcy was displeased with her, and she knew not why.

  Chapter 11

  ELIZABETH STOLE OUT OF the house even earlier than was her custom. She had not slept well the night before and longed for the clarity of mind a long morning walk often afforded her.

  Unfortunately, that lucidity eluded her. She could not understand Mr. Darcy’s sudden coldness towards her. Since his accident, the gentleman seemed . . . gentle in his dealings with her and her family. He treated the servants well, he won over her mother, and even serous Mary was taken with their guest. Only Mr. Bennet and Lydia proved impervious to his newly-displayed charm.

  Mr. Darcy’s impassioned defense of her before Mr. Collins, now that she had time to think upon it, had given birth to new and strange thoughts. Mr. Darcy had declared himself champion of the Bennets, but only a lover would take a family with no advantageous connections under his protection. Did that mean . . . could that mean . . . ? Was Mr. Darcy in love with her?

  Impossible! Mr. Darcy did not like her — she was sure of it! He was just being kind, was he not?

  A realization came to Elizabeth. Perhaps Mr. Darcy made his assertion to Mr. Collins in stronger terms than he intended. Of course! Mr. Darcy had no intention of making her an offer of marriage, and his new reserve in regards to her was to make that clear to all. He knew that he had raised expectations and was trying to undo the damage by tamping down any false hopes he may had inadvertently created. Mr. Darcy was attempting to protect both their reputations, as a true gentleman should.

  This new thought now settled in her mind, Elizabeth wondered why she was not content. She was still uneasy. Surely she was not . . . disappointed?

  Of course not!

  A rabbit skipped across the path, and Elizabeth surrendered to a sudden urge to follow. She made her way into some bushes that had not yet lost their leaves and crouched down to find the burrow, but she could find no sign of the hare. Giving up the search, she was about to stand and return to the lane, when she heard horses approaching. Elizabeth was embarrassed at her childish pursuit of the animal and decided to remain concealed.

  The sound of Miss Bingley’s voice convinced Elizabeth that she had made the correct choice. She did not want to give the unpleasant snob any more reasons to disparage herself or her family. If Miss Bingley saw her climb out of the brush, Elizabeth was sure that she would never hear the end of the mocking. She sat down and waited for the riders to pass, for Miss Bingley had a companion.

  This outcome was not what Elizabeth had hoped. Instead of continuing down the path, the riders turned just before her location and made their way through the underbrush into a pasture. They stopped, not ten feet away from Elizabeth’s position.

  Now here was an unfortunate spot! Elizabeth was trapped; she could not move without giving away her location, and that would result in an awkward explanation. But she could clearly overhear the pair’s conversation from where she was hidden, and that was very rude.

  There was nothing for it. Elizabeth accepted the lesser of two evils and sat as quietly as she could. She could only see parts of horses and not the riders, but the voices were clearly that of Miss Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam. The two were taking in the vista of the pastureland before them, the pale November morning sun painting the vast field of brown and gold.

  “Are you enjoying your ride?” Elizabeth heard the colonel ask his companion.

  “Yes!” Miss Bingley answered with more cheerful enthusiasm than Elizabeth had ever heard before from the lady. “The countryside can be so devoid of diversion, except for riding. This is a pretty prospect! There is something to be said for Netherfield, but little else. It is nothing to your home in Derbyshire, I am sure.” Her conversation was easy and pleasing.

  “Yes, Matlock is more rugged, unforgiving — ha, and cold! The ground here is gentle and rolling. Not as pleasing to the eye, but kinder to the horses. Now, if you wish to ride in lush green fields, Kent is your place in springtime.”

  “Your aunt lives in Kent, I recall. You must enjoy Rosings.”

  “It is very easy to enjoy the place.” There was a pause. “To withstand the company there, however, requires fortitude.”

  Miss Bingley giggled softly and then grew quiet. Elizabeth was puzzled and intrigued by this pleasant Caroline Bingley. She strained to put herself into a better position to see the pair without giving herself away. The lady spoke again.

  “I believe it is time to return.” Her voice held a bit of an edge.

  “If you wish,” returned the colonel carefully. “Have you appointments for the afternoon?”

  “Of course — to visit with Miss Darcy! Surely, she must be rescued from the excruciating company she is suffering.” Miss Bingley’s voice had returned to her usual superior manner. Elizabeth relaxed; for a moment, she was apprehensive she had been wrong about Caroline, too.

  “I do not think Georgiana finds caring for her brother excruciating,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.

  “That is not the company of which I speak. Oh, it is all well and good for dear Miss Darcy to so sacrifice her sensibilities in service to her brother, but really! It is such an uncultured, backward family with whom she is now forced to contend!”

  Elizabeth seethed at Miss Bingley’s gross insult.

  Miss Bingley continued on. “To be blunt, Colonel, I cannot see how you permitted your cousin to leave the refinement found at Netherfield and go to Longbourn and those country nobodies.”

  Elizabeth did not know whether she had the strength to remain silent given the inducements to defend her family against such an ill-bred attack.

  “Miss Bingley,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam evenly, “you should not speak so of your betters.”

  Miss Bingley gasped. Elizabeth was shocked senseless. The colonel continued.

  “Mr. Bennet is a landed gentleman of respectable reputation. He is not affluent and does not socialize in Town. That is unfortunate, true, but his daughters are gentle-born. The family is known to and approved by Mr. Darcy, Georgiana’s brother and head of their house. The Bennets are acceptable acquaintances for my ward.”

  “But, but . . . ” Miss Bingley tried to defend herself. “Their manners, their lack of connections — ”

  “Their connections are poor and their manners could be better, but the Bennets do not have to prove themselves. These deficits hurt their standing but do not eliminate it. It is a family of property.”

  “Nevertheless — ”

  “Miss Bingley, must I be blunt? Mr. Bennet did not come from trade.”

  It was fortunate that Elizabeth was sitting down else her legs would have given way. She did not have to see Miss Bingley’s face to know it was awash in mortification.

  “My dear Miss Bingley, the time has come for us to have a hard conversation. I speak to you as a friend. You must stop — you must withdraw — or you will ruin your reputation.”

  “How dare you!”

  “Do you think me blind? You only pay attention to Georgiana to please Darcy! You are wasting your time. I tell you now that the daughter of a tradesman shall never be mistress of Pemberley.”

  Miss Bingley tried to speak, but instead she burst into sobs.

  “Blast it!” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Forgive my rough speech; I am too used to life in my tent.”

  “You cruel, cruel man! Such hateful lies! I shall prove you wrong!”

  The colonel spoke with more kindness. “Miss Bingley, you must be honest with yourself. It is not my cousin you desire but Pemberley and the connections in Town that come with it. Can you not see how ill-suited such a match would be for you? Darcy is quiet and reserved. He despises London society and balls and parties — everything you enjoy. He loves Pemberley and country living as much as he hates London. Even if you were gentle-born and acceptable to my cousin, you would be miserable. You would be locked up in Derbyshire, longing to be free. You would loathe such a life — and him, eventually.”

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bsp; “Stop it! Stop it! I will hear no more!”

  Fitzwilliam’s voice rose. “You will hear it all. You will hear the truth. I shall be a friend to you against your will. I tell you Darcy only sees you as the sister of his friend. But if he did admire you, he would do nothing, for you can never be acceptable. He is a gentleman, head of a distinguished family, with money in the funds. He has no need to marry a generous dowry, and all of London knows it. A gentleman’s daughter would be barely acceptable to the ton, and the expectations of his family are much higher. In such circumstances, a tradesman’s daughter would be despised and ignored by all, and Georgiana’s prospects would be damaged.

  “These facts are obvious to everyone in London. Should you ignore my counsel, your character will be fixed by the ton as the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous. My dear girl, you must give up this quest, for his sake and yours.”

  Miss Bingley’s sobs were redoubled, and she immediately urged her horse back to Netherfield. Elizabeth heard Colonel Fitzwilliam utter a rather colorful oath, which should have shocked her had she not already been astonished by the conversation she had overheard. The officer then urged his mount to follow, and Elizabeth now had her opportunity to escape. She had much to think of as she made her way back to Longbourn.

  * * *

  It was Georgiana’s idea to go out of doors after breakfast, and she would not be denied. So it was, after Hill and Bartholomew helped him into the Bath chair, that Darcy found himself again near the rose gardens of Longbourn, this time in the company of his sister and Mrs. Annesley. Darcy was unhappy with his sister, for in her intention to be kind — she well knew her brother enjoyed fresh air immensely — Georgiana had inadvertently reminded Darcy of his wretched experience of the day before.

  Darcy had not slept well, brooding over Elizabeth’s behavior at tea and dinner. Had he not known better, he might have been deceived into thinking that he had improved Elizabeth’s opinion of him. She seemed to go out of her way to engage him in conversation. Her smiles, brighter than ever, were more than once directed his way. Her playing always stirred him, her sweet voice and lack of artifice filled his mind and soul, and yesterday’s performance at the pianoforte was more enchanting and enticing than ever. He wished that it was for him.

  But he did know better. He had heard from the lady’s own lips what she thought of his character. “As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned, he shall receive every courtesy, no matter how little he shows in return,” she had said. Yesterday evening had been an act. Miss Elizabeth had been mocking him, just as at Netherfield.

  The realization was bitter last night and remained so in the morning. He knew he was poor company for Georgiana, but he could not summon the energy to attend her as he should. He was, in a word, sulking.

  Georgiana pointed out a pleasant aspect in the garden in a vain attempt to engage her brother before exclaiming, “Well, here is Miss Kitty! What brings you outside so early?”

  Darcy saw the startled girl sitting on a bench, trying to hide something. “Good — (cough) — good morning.” She rose to her feet, her hands behind her.

  “Did we disturb you?” Georgiana tried to see what the girl was concealing. “Was that not a sketch pad?”

  “Georgiana,” scolded Mrs. Annesley gently. “We should not pry.”

  “Oh, no, you are not disturbing — (cough) — I was not doing anything.” The girl was very flustered, her face beet red. Without much consideration for what he was doing, Darcy took pity on her.

  “Miss Catherine, we would by no means interrupt you. My sister was only showing interest in your activity. We will leave you in peace.”

  “I am so sorry,” cried Georgiana. “I did not mean to embarrass you. It is just that I enjoy drawing, and if you do, too, I would be happy to see your work.”

  “Oh!” Kitty hung her head. “I am not offended — (cough). I draw a little, but it is nothing. Surely nothing compared to what you can do.”

  Apparently, Miss Kitty coughed when agitated. Darcy said gently, “We would not think of distressing you, and if you would rather not show us your drawings, we will not be offended. But we are sincere in our interest. I would very much like to see your work.”

  Kitty looked them all in the eye, biting her lip in indecision and anxiety. A moment passed, and then the girl brought out the pad from behind her back and thrust it at the others. “Here! Look at it if you like.”

  A smiling Mrs. Annesley approached the girl as if she were a frightened fawn and took the pad from her trembling fingers. She returned to the chair and opened the pad in such a way that all three could see Kitty’s etchings.

  After viewing the first few, Georgiana exclaimed, “Why, these are very good!”

  Indeed they were, Darcy saw. Kitty was obviously untrained, and her charcoal sketches of landscapes were only tolerable, but she had a remarkable talent for portraiture. Page after page was filled with portraits of the Bennet family, posed in profile, full face, and three-quarter. Most extraordinary were the ones done surreptitiously, catching the Bennets reading, sewing, or playing the pianoforte.

  “Oh, do you think so?” Kitty asked doubtfully.

  “Yes, miss,” said Mrs. Annesley. “You have a fine eye.”

  Darcy could not help but agree. Kitty was talented. She was able to capture one or two features that made each portrait unique to the subject. Jane’s half-smile, Mr. Bennet’s smirk, and Elizabeth’s eyes. Oh, yes, Elizabeth’s mesmerizing eyes!

  “Have you ever tried watercolors?” Mrs. Annesley asked.

  “No,” the girl blushed in return. “I . . . I have never asked Papa to buy watercolors for me.” Then in a rush, she exclaimed, “I do not talk about drawing very much. It is a waste of time, after all. I mean, Jane and Lizzy are kind, and so is Maria Lucas, but I am not as good as Jane with her needlework or Lizzy and Mary on the instrument. Mama wants me to improve myself and . . . and Lydia teases me — (cough).” She choked back a sob.

  Georgiana frowned, took the sketchbook from Mrs. Annesley, and marched over to Kitty. “I think you are very talented,” she stated firmly, handing the pad to its owner, “and I would like very much to draw with you. Would you permit me?”

  “With me? Truly?”

  “Yes. I shall return to the house for my pad, and then we will draw together. Perhaps,” she turned with a cheeky grin, “we will draw my unfortunate brother. It will be a contest! Will that not be great fun?”

  Kitty agreed it would be so, and Georgiana made her way quickly to the house. While she was gone, Darcy spoke to Kitty.

  “Miss Catherine,” he said with mock seriousness, “I will agree to this scheme of yours, but I tell you now that I do not pose for free. Indeed, there will be a price to pay.”

  Kitty took him at his word and nodded nervously. “I only hope it is not too much. Lydia has borrowed all my money for a new bonnet.”

  Darcy smiled. “I do not want money, but I have a condition for my cooperation. A drawing.”

  “A drawing? You want one of my drawings? Which one?”

  Darcy almost asked for her portrait of Elizabeth, but he resisted the impulse. “I have a commission for you. I will agree to sit for you, but in turn you must eventually produce a portrait of Georgiana.”

  “Truly? Very well, I will. Thank you, Mr. Darcy! You are so very nice, no matter what everyone else says!” Kitty caught herself and blanched, one of her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, I should not have said that! — (cough, cough) — I am so sorry!”

  Mrs. Annesley gasped a little, and Darcy’s smile faded a bit.

  “Mr. Darcy has done nothing but impress me with his conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others.” Elizabeth was not the only one who felt that way, apparently. Darcy knew he had damaged his reputation, and there was work to do if he meant to repair it. He spoke as kindly as he could.

  “That is quite all right. We are friends now, and I trust you will let me know if I misbehave again.”

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nbsp; Kitty clearly could not make out what Darcy was talking about. “All . . . all right.” She then smiled. “And will you do the same for me?”

  Darcy’s smile returned. “It is a bargain,” he said as he extended his hand from the chair.

  Kitty giggled as she shook his hand to seal the agreement. Moments later, Georgiana returned with her pad and one for Mrs. Annesley. The three ladies took their places and withdrew their charcoals, and Darcy suffered having his likeness captured for the next hour.

  * * *

  Returning to Longbourn, Elizabeth felt like a leaf buffeted by the wind. One by one, her firmly entrenched opinions were being overturned.

  Elizabeth could not like Miss Bingley, but she would have to have a heart of stone not to feel distress on that lady’s part after overhearing what she had. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s harsh set-down was very difficult for Elizabeth to hear, and it was not even directed at her. Miss Bingley’s sufferings could not be imagined.

  The colonel’s tacit approval of the Bennet family was confusing. Elizabeth knew they were but simple country folk. The Bennets never went to Town and never endeavored to involve themselves in the social activities of the ton. Elizabeth was sure that, in the unlikely event her father attempted such a thing, the Quality would reject their overtures with derision and disdain. She never considered her family as even a minor part of the aristocracy, but apparently the colonel did. Were the Bennets the superiors of the Bingleys in spite of Mr. Bingley’s five thousand a year? It was an astonishing concept and, Elizabeth blushingly admitted to herself, very flattering.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam also reinforced Elizabeth’s expectations of Mr. Darcy. More than ever, she was convinced that he was destined for a great lady of London as was expected of a man of his stature. It was silly to think his current behavior was anything but that of an honorable gentleman attempting to preserve his good name and not become the subject of gossip by paying too much attention to a lady for which he could have no true interest.