by Ola Wegner
There was little point in denying that he was in love with her, so much in love, in fact, that he had started considering marriage. If only last summer someone had told him that in the near future he would want to marry a young country lass without position and connections, with family in trade, he would have laughed him off. He still could not believe it himself, but it was an undeniable fact. Since the day he had first set eyes on her again, three weeks ago, she had occupied his every thought, and his day was miserable when he lacked the opportunity to see her, to talk to her.
On reaching the grove, he stopped in the shade of a large tree and allowed himself to simply stare at her. She was sitting on a fallen log, her straw bonnet removed, abandoned next to her feet on the green grass, her eyes closed, her lovely small face tilted up to the sun, with the wind gently blowing the curls around her face.
He swallowed, not being able to tear his eyes from her. Perhaps it was his destiny to marry her? He had tried to escape her last autumn, trying so hard to forget her for the course of the entire winter. But it was all in vain. Their paths crossed again, here in Kent, and she was even more perfect in his eyes than he had remembered. Bingley would surely propose to her sister, so it was inevitable he would meet her again in the future. Georgiana loved her already. His little sister was a different person when in Elizabeth’s company. Her shyness was gone, and she actually acted as a young girl her age should.
Was it that Providence was telling his something? After all, who cared whether his wife came from a well-connected family or had a large dowry? He did not need more money, and though her position in society was nothing to his, she was a gentleman’s daughter, after all. The men from his social circle sometimes married actresses, governesses, or even servants, and in time society eventually accepted the matches. His marriage would cause some stir to be sure, but when his relatives and acquaintances met her, and got to know her, they would understand why he had decided to make her his wife. Suddenly all the reasons for which he had rejected the possibility of marrying Elizabeth Bennet before seemed to be irrelevant to him.
From the very beginning of their acquaintance, he had felt bonded to her in every way, both physically and mentally. There was some invisible connection between them. He could not really explain how it happened, but nevertheless, he had felt it from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. The way she talked to him, the way she smiled and teased him, it all made her seem to have been designed especially for him. He did not want to regret in ten or twenty years from now that he had let her slip away.
Moreover, he was almost certain she was not indifferent to him either. They had had a difficult beginning, entirely due to his own rude comments about her, uttered to Bingley at the Meryton Assembly. However, even then, he had felt she had been affected by him the same as he had been by her. And those few times when they had been in private at Netherfield, his behaviour was not as it should be, such as when he had encountered her in the corridor late at night, or when she had hurt her foot at the ball. It would have been so easy for her then to make others aware of their private moments, endangering her reputation, and at the same time forcing him into marriage. She had not done so, and he could only admire her for that. Despite her mother’s vulgar matchmaking schemes, she always conducted herself with self-respect and dignity. Those were certainly the features he would like to see in his children one day.
Taking a deep breath, Darcy walked energetically out of the trees. Elizabeth turned her head to him, and her eyes widened at the sight of him.
Darcy was by her side in a split of second, wordlessly raising her small hand to his lips. Suddenly, all felt good and right in his life. It was enough to have her hand in his, and all his doubts, worries, apprehensions and fears were swept away, nonexistent, irrelevant.
“Mr. Darcy,” she whispered, her face flushed. “I did not expect to see you here this morning.”
Darcy felt her trying to free her hand from his grip and very reluctantly released her. “My sister sends me to you. She has asked me to tell you that she cannot join you on your walk today.”
“Is she well?”
“Yes, she is fine,” Darcy assured her, his heart melting at the genuine concern he detected in Elizabeth’s expression. “It is just a slight indisposition, I believe.”
“Oh,” she said with a slight frown, her eyes lowered.
Darcy winced inwardly for delivering to her that white lie. In truth, Georgiana had been more than fine this morning. When he had knocked at the door to her rooms, she had already eaten breakfast and was preparing herself for her daily walk in the company of Miss Bennet. He had said nothing to this, just walked to the window and stared out of it, thinking what would he have given for the opportunity to walk with Elizabeth, side by side, on such a fine spring morning.
Georgiana must have discerned the ability to read his mind, because she had approached him, and snuggling to his side, spoke. “You know, Brother, I think I feel a bit tired this morning. Yes, quite tired indeed, and I even start to feel the beginning of a headache. Perhaps it would be wise to stay home today and have some rest? I only worry that Miss Bennet will be waiting there for me, and she will surely get worried if I do not come on time.” She looked up at him innocently. “Perhaps you could go to the grove and inform her that I would not be able to join her today?”
Darcy had looked into Georgiana’s laughing eyes, and, of course, agreed, struggling to keep his usual stern expression in place. He knew that his sister was perfectly aware that his interest in Miss Bennet was very special and that all he craved was the opportunity to see her alone, but he still had some pride to uphold.
“Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth’s voice brought him back to the present moment. To his disappointment, she had put her bonnet back on her head, and was just tying the bow under her chin. “I thank you for taking so much trouble and coming here to tell me that your sister cannot accompany me today. I hope it is only a passing indisposition.”
“Oh, I am sure it is,” Darcy confirmed immediately.
Elizabeth smiled, curtseyed and began turning away from him, with the obvious intention of walking away.
“Miss Bennet!” Darcy cried, his tone much too agitated for the occasion, even to his ears, causing Elizabeth to look up at him with surprise.
“Might I replace my sister and walk with you this morning?” he asked quickly, in one breath, suddenly afraid she would say no.
However, Elizabeth smiled brightly at him, stepping toward him. “Of course you may, sir. It would be my pleasure.”
Darcy wrapped her hand tenderly around his arm, and with a happy feeling in his chest, they strode forward.
For a long moment, he had no desire to even speak with her. Having her by his side was enough to make him satisfied.
“You are very quiet, sir,” Elizabeth noted, her eyes teasingly sparkling at him. “Sometimes I think that you do not like conversing with me.”
“That is not the case, I assure you,” he said in all seriousness. “I do enjoy your company. Always,” he stressed, gazing warmly at her, causing her eyes to widen a bit. “I especially enjoy listening to you when you sharpen your wit on the others. Pray, believe me, it was not my intention to neglect you today by not talking to you. Most of the time, I tend to voice myself only when there is something crucial to say, in my view, at least. Drawing room chit chat is not my strong point, and frankly, I think quite often it lacks any purpose.”
Elizabeth frowned slightly. “Should I understand, sir, that you find I speak too much in general on irrelevant matters? You are aware that I quite enjoy participating in this idle chit chat to which you refer.”
“No!” Darcy contradicted at once, stopping in place. “I always admire the way in which you express your opinions. It was not my intention to offend you.” He covered her hand resting on his arm with his own to stress his words. “What I wanted to say was that I am so pleased to be in your company this morning that conversation seems unnecessary.”
In
the course of his speech, Elizabeth’s face turned a lovely shade of pink. Darcy’s eyes followed the flush spreading to her neck and lower, making her flush even more. Lowering her eyes, she bit her lower lip, as if worried, and resumed their walk.
Darcy kept gazing at her from time to time, worried he had upset her because she seemed somehow distressed. “May I ask how long do you intend to stay in Kent?”
“About ten days,” she answered absentmindedly.
“Only ten days,” Darcy whispered to himself.
“Yes. I received letters from home yesterday,” she spoke softly. “My father writes that he misses me, and my sister Jane adds that she needs me as well. Perhaps you are aware that she has accepted Mr. Bingley’s proposal and wants to start wedding preparations as soon as may be, even though the date has not yet been settled.”
“Yes, Bingley wrote to me that he has been accepted. He seems genuinely pleased with his decision to marry Miss Bennet.”
“The same can be said about Jane,” Elizabeth said with a smile, her voice more animated. “Her last letter was all enthusiasm, though usually she is so very guarded about showing her feelings.”
“I understand your family needs you, but Georgiana will miss your company,” Darcy remarked sadly.
“But we shall meet in a few months in Hertfordshire, for I believe you will attend Mr. Bingely’s wedding,” Elizabeth noted lightly.
“Of course we will,” Darcy replied automatically. “Bingley has asked me to be his groomsman.”
They walked silently for a while, Darcy gathering his courage to bring the conversation on the topic concerning their, he hoped, future together. But at last, he chose safer ground to begin.
“I would like to thank you for the time you chose to spend with my sister,” he spoke sincerely. “Georgiana is very shy and, in general, does not trust people easily. I am glad to see her so open with you. I am afraid that my company is often not enough for a young girl like her.”
“She loves and admires you so much, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said with great conviction.
“But there are things I find awkward to discuss with her,” he remarked uneasily. “Sometimes I feel I cannot help her in some matters.”
“I agree there are certainly subjects which she would find difficult to discuss with you, perhaps, but it is to be expected after all, considering the age difference between you or the simple fact that she is a female,” Elizabeth said gently. “And truly, Miss Darcy is an exceptional young woman, in the sense of her mind, reason, accomplishments, manners, temper, indeed, in almost every respect I can think of. It is hard to believe she has been raised by an older brother alone, particularly one who has so many other responsibilities lying on him. If you would allow it, I can exchange the letters with Miss Darcy.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said, covering her hand with his again. “I would wish her to have a female friend like you with whom she could share her troubles. I know she will be delighted with the idea of keeping a correspondence with you.”
They did not talk much more that morning, but simply, as Darcy had suggested, enjoyed each other’s company. But there was a new resolution in Darcy when he walked her to the gate of the parsonage. He decided to have her word to marry him before her departure to London.
***
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was seated in her usual place of honour, right in the middle of the drawing room. To her left, sat her daughter, Anne, with her companion, Mrs. Jenkins, and to her right, her parson, Mr. Collins, with his wife and sister-in-law.
The sound of animated female laughter came from the far end of the room, where the pianoforte was located, drawing her attention in that direction. Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at the smiling face of the young woman who was currently playing the pianoforte. That Miss Bennet! She engaged others too much with her person. Even now, her nephews and niece abandoned their company, leaving Anne all alone, to listen to Miss Bennet’s playing, which was quite poor, to say the least.
Cleary it was enough that Miss Bennet smiled and uttered some silly nonsense to make Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana laugh openly, while Darcy stared at her, spellbound. It was very fortunate indeed, that she was leaving next week. Darcy would be able to concentrate entirely on Anne. Catherine did not even blame her nephew entirely for taking an interest in this girl. It was understandable, as Miss Bennet could be attractive enough and her company entertaining for gentlemen, with her pretty face, smiling eyes and daring opinions. But as Mr. Collins assured her, she was to be married to her father’s neighbour before the end of the summer, and, therefore, she was, thankfully, no real threat to her nephew.
Lady Catherine, calmed with that thought, was about to ask Mrs. Collins whether she had applied the medicine which she had recommended to her previously when the wave of laughter was heard again from the other end of the room. One voice especially dominated the others. It was Darcy, laughing out loud, in a rich, deep baritone, clearly at something which that country chit from Hertfordshire had just said. In all her life, Catherine had never heard him to laugh so, to be so unreserved and unrestrained in company of others.
“Fitzwilliam, Darcy, Georgiana, come here all of you,” she ordered sharply in a raised voice, putting an end to the merry chit-chat by the pianoforte. “I want to talk with Miss Bennet.”
When her niece and Miss Bennet sat next to Anne, and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy stood by the fireplace, but close enough to participate in the conversation, Catherine turned her attention to the young upstart, speaking pleasantly. “Miss Bennet, I believe that I owe you congratulations. Mr. Collins tells me that your sister has recently become engaged to a very promising young man.”
Miss Bennet smiled, nodding her head. “Yes, Lady Catherine, to our neighbour, Mr. Bingley.”
“Yes, that is a splendid match for your sister, as I know that Mr. Bingley’s fortune is considerable. However, it is a good match for him as well, I believe, as his fortune comes from trade, and your sister is a gentleman’s daughter, after all.”
“I am sure that both my sister and Mr. Bingley are happy about their decision,” Elizabeth remarked diplomatically in a light tone.
“Yes.” Lady Catherine regarded her carefully, narrowing her eyes at her. “But I do hear that you are to be married soon, as well, and most advantageously to say the least too.”
The sudden silence remained in the room. It was as if all at once no one in the company dared to even take a deeper breath to break it. “To another neighbour,” Lady Catherine continued, immensely pleased to gather such attention. “What is his name? Mr. … Mr….”
“Mr. Brooke, your ladyship,” Mr. Collins said quickly, with a bow of his greasy, balding head.
“Yes, Mr. Brooke, a widower, I hear. A man of great fortune, fifteen thousand a year, well, well.” Lady Catherine pursed her lips. “He is a very wealthy man, quite a catch for your family, Miss Bennet, especially when your estate is entailed to Mr. Collins.”
Elizabeth said nothing, her eyes stubbornly lowered to her lap. It was Georgiana who spoke first, her voice unsteady.
“Miss Bennet, you are engaged?” she asked tremblingly, wide eyed.
“No, I…” Elizabeth stammered awkwardly. “Nothing has been settled yet, officially.”
“Do you plan a double wedding together with your sister, Miss Bennet?” Lady Catherine asked loudly. “It would be very convenient and save much work with preparations, not to mention the expense, for your mother.”
Elizabeth’s very quiet voice was heard. “I have not yet thought about it, Lady Catherine.”
“Well, Miss Bennet, if your Mr. Brooke and you will be passing by Rosings Park in the future, please do visit me. I would be very happy to meet him,” her ladyship offered generously.
“I thank you, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth murmured very quietly again.
Lady Catherine was very pleased with her herself. Miss Bennet, though so animated before, barely spoke to anyone for the rest of the afternoon and, most importan
tly, stubbornly avoided looking directly at Darcy. Her nephew was also very withdrawn, even more so than usual.
Soon Mrs. Collins gave the sign for the party from Hunsford to leave, and Lady Catherine kindly allowed them use of one of her carriages.
***
The next morning, Darcy paced the grove impatiently for more than an hour, unsure whether she would come today, but he had to see her immediately.
“Miss Bennet!” he exclaimed, catching her pale mint dress passing across the pasture beneath the grove from the corner of his eye.
She froze, glancing up at him, only to lower her eyes a moment later. “Mr. Darcy,” she murmured when he reached her.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy started, slightly out of breath, speaking hastily. “Forgive me, but I must be allowed to be quite forward in asking you,” he paused, his eyes concentrated directly on her face. “Are you engaged to Mr. Brooke?”
Elizabeth returned his gaze and spoke in a calm voice, but strangely not resembling her usual one. “As I said to your aunt yesterday, Mr. Darcy, nothing has been settled officially. My engagement has not been announced,” she paused. “Not yet, at least.”
Darcy let himself relax. “Heavens to be thankful,” he breathed, stepping close to her, so he could feel her warmth and relish her scent. “But he did propose to you?” he wanted to know.
Elizabeth took a step back from him, straightened herself and spoke coolly, her eyebrow raised as if in a challenge. “Mr. Darcy, it is a private matter concerning only me, Mr. Brooke and my closest family.”
Darcy took her hand in both of his and, leaning forward, spoke fervently. “Miss Bennet, it concerns me as well. You cannot imagine how I felt yesterday when I heard about your possible engagement. It makes me sick and terrified when I think that I could lose you so easily, due to my own fears, my stupid pride and indecision.” he paused, his breathing laboured. “Miss Bennet,” he whispered, placing her small palm on his chest, covering it with his own. “I have…” he trembled, overtaken with emotions. “I have admired you from the earliest moments of our acquaintance. I loved you last autumn, but I convinced myself that what I felt was a mere infatuation, that it would go away in time. I ran away from you, taking Bingley with myself. But when Bingley informed me about meeting your sister in town, and his decision to court her, I knew already that forgetting you would not be easy, because I would most likely meet you again at their wedding. And when I came here to visit my aunt, and saw you that day talking with Georgiana…, I already knew I was lost, but I fought still, trying to convince myself that you were not for me, that the difference in our situation in life was too great for a man like me to take a serious consideration in you.”