The Red Chrysanthemum

by Linda Beutler

  So this is why I am the best man she has ever known…it is gratitude. She would marry me out of gratitude. Darcy scowled a little. “I am exceedingly sorry you have been informed. I did not think Mrs Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”

  This incorrect accusation stirred Elizabeth to speak further. “You must not blame my aunt. Lydia made a thoughtless comment that first betrayed your involvement. You cannot be surprised that I would not rest until I knew all the particulars. My aunt wrote, and I also prevailed upon your sister for confirmation. Georgiana explained that you had extracted a promise of silence from her, but she went so far as to say she could find no fault with anything Aunt Gardiner had written.

  “Please let me thank you again, in the name of all of my family, for the generous compassion that induced you to take so much trouble and bear such deplorable mortification for the sake of two people so wholly without merit.”

  Darcy looked at her imploring eyes. She obviously hoped she was not angering him. He began, “If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving relief to your distress, of restoring happiness to you, led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owes me nothing. It was your tears that haunted me through the whole negotiation. Much as I respect your family, I thought only of you.”

  Her eyes held his face; she became more wondering than worried. “Let me ease your mind then, if my feeling gratitude is unacceptable to you, and say that when I first learnt of your many kindnesses in the matter, gratitude was not my first thought. In the moments after reading my aunt’s letter, I was proud of you, Mr Darcy. It must be admitted, I borrowed some of that pride; I was proud of myself, that a man such as you should think me worth knowing. That such a man once held me in so high a regard as to… Yes, of that I am proud.”

  Darcy realized the full force of all she was implying. She had now admitted feelings for him of a sort he could more willingly appreciate than gratitude. “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are not sufficiently changed from what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged. No, I cannot say that honestly. My affections are far greater than they were. Only my wishes remain the same. I still love you. If you cannot love me, one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.”

  Elizabeth smiled fleetingly and looked away. She nodded her head with a little bob, swallowing with a suddenly dry mouth. She glanced at him and then into the distance, and cleared her throat. “You did not see it… It was too short and fell out — in the posy, the red chrysanthemum. All that week when I was in Derbyshire, I thought you knew my heart but would not speak. Before I left, I learnt you did not know. Some things should not be left to flowers. I…” — Leave him in no doubt — “My feelings…my feelings are completely the opposite from what they were.” Never had she believed herself to be expressing her thoughts in a more awkward manner. “I can love you, I do love you. I love you.” She stated it earnestly, with intense conviction. “Now. I mean already, and for some weeks, since receiving your flowers, since seeing you so unexpectedly at Pemberley, since seeing your portrait. Since Lambton, when you spoke of Jane. Never think I am accepting you out of gratitude — far from it. Your efforts on Lydia’s behalf merely confirmed that I have indeed fallen in love with a man in whom I can, with confidence, place my most tender regard and deepest respect…affection…trust…” Her words of praise reached diminuendo and her eyes flickered to his face.

  “You are consenting to be my wife? You will give me your hand?” he asked gently and held out his bare hand.

  She looked down. “I am as you represented me to your aunt. I will never marry where I do not love.” She raised her chin and cocked her head as if stubbornness were somehow preferable to vulnerability. “So, yes, sir, I love you and I am consenting to be your wife.” She put her hand into his.

  Darcy broke into a grin expressive of such joy that he tossed his head and turned his face to the sun, dislodging his hat. He took in a great breath and fought light-headedness. When he could speak, he said with some mirth, “I am glad neither of us made any hasty promises to Lady Catherine today, which would thus already be broken.”

  Elizabeth smiled as she released his hand and bent to pick up his hat; he lowered his brow as she replaced it. Their eyes met. He thought of kissing her, and she thought of being kissed, but they stepped apart. Darcy took her bonnet and placed it over her hair, gently tying it under her chin. The feeling of his fingers brushing upon her skin brought the roses to her cheeks, and her old friend, the constriction of her chest, seized her. He noticed her blushing breathlessness and was as pleased as if admiring her for the first time. She will be mine. This beautiful elusive creature loves me. How? Darcy held out his arm; she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and they continued walking.

  “I am sure, sir, however seriously displeased your aunt may be at this moment, it would feed her ire even further to know her appearance provided me the courage to address my thanks to you. But how did you come to be here?”

  “It was as I told Lady Catherine. You may imagine my surprise to see my aunt’s carriage outside Longbourn. Upon hearing me enter the house, your father emerged from his library to inform me where you and my aunt had gone, and understanding rightly her motive for calling, I made my way to you as quickly as possible. When I approached the arch, I could hear her quite plainly tell you ‘I know it all.’”

  “You heard the greater part of the battle, then.”

  “Yes, but I am ashamed to say so. I should have interrupted her. You should not have been left at her mercy since she has none. You did say something at the end that confused me. Why did you say that whatever my feelings might be, you did not expect me to propose?”

  “I omitted a word, and that word was ‘again.’ I did not expect you, even with your fine character, to propose again. After the unkind and unjustified setting-down I gave you at Hunsford, I could form no reasonable expectation. Bingley and Georgiana assured me your love was constant, but it was my assumption that no man could forgive what I said, even a man as saintly as yourself.” She glanced at him, teasing a little.

  “What did you say of me that was not true? I needed to be humbled. I was conceited. I was arrogant. It did not occur to me I would be found wanting by a woman worthy of pleasing. Now I know better.”

  “And there was that other detail of my youngest sister’s situation. The one thing your aunt said that rang true was the injustice you take on of having to call that couple, ‘brother and sister.’ I cannot fathom why you will do it.”

  “You cannot? Have I not stated my affections with enough conviction even yet? I have chosen to honour love, now that it has bested fate’s many attempts to thwart it, over every other consideration. When I saw you in the hall at Pemberley with Mary’s letter, my only thought was for you — to rid you of the burden of grief and shame, which, because of your kind nature, you took upon yourself. That Lydia was let anywhere near Wickham was more my fault than yours, but neither of us should take on the responsibility for his wickedness and her wildness. I am not wicked, and you are not wild.”

  Elizabeth had to laugh at this. “You have just caught me making a mad career through the countryside; if that is not wild, sir, then I am mistaken in the word.”

  “It was of short duration and led to a calming of your temper. You are not so very wild.” Darcy’s eyes softened as he looked into hers and then quickly looked away. His fancy formed an image of Elizabeth running down the paths of Pemberley to one particular secluded bower of willows near the pond where he liked to swim. That he would soon have leave to capture her there brought an arousal to his loins that took several deep breaths to quell. I hope she does not favour a long engagement.

  Elizabeth looked away. She was concerned about her inclinations now they had declared themselves and were wandering away from Longbourn. Now he has seen for himself that I run to ease my spirits; I hope he is not too disapproving. She tugged on their linked
arms to propel them forward. “I think, sir, we should turn back. My father will be wondering where we have got to when he sees Lady Catherine has gone.”

  They retraced their steps, each a little more silent, and both deeply relieved.

  They reached the entrance to the lawn, just in sight of the house, when Darcy stopped their progress. “Elizabeth,” he whispered. “There are two people in your family who can keep a confidence uncommonly well.”

  She chuckled. “I am surprised to hear it. What is the secret, and who has kept it?”

  “In the express Bingley sent your father from Pemberley requesting permission to court Jane, I sent a similar letter of my own. I was determined to inform him of my honourable intentions. After consulting Jane, he granted me permission. My plan was that, once Bingley had proposed to Jane, whether at Pemberley or in Hertfordshire, and was accepted, I hoped I would have improved your opinion enough to accept my proposal. Had I not bumbled the nosegay, I promise you I would have put the impulsiveness of Bingley to shame and declared myself sooner. I asked your father to keep my intentions secret, in part because I feared angering you should my attentions still prove unwelcome. I sent him another letter three days ago, informing him that I was returning to stay with Bingley and again take up my suit. Are you angry with my presumption?”

  “You were not presumptuous at all by my reckoning. You saw hope and took a risk. Although, had I known, I might have been emboldened to follow Charlotte Collins’s advice and declare my heart more directly. Instead, I left it to a flower. When I found it on the floor, it broke my heart to know you did not understand me. You saw the card?”

  “Yes, I saw the flower on the table after you had gone, and Mrs Reynolds loaned me her herbal.”

  “The red chrysanthemum; I had picked the first open blossom of the season and did not want to deface the plant by taking a longer length and remove the buds to come.”

  “But then you sent me another. And you held them in your aunt’s portrait. She is a poet, your aunt. How could I stay away?” Darcy looked into her eyes for several long moments. Yielding to impulse, he lowered his lips to hers, raising her face with one finger under her chin. He turned his head to spare them the embarrassment of bumping hats and their lips met in a pleasing alignment.

  Elizabeth felt her heart leap to her throat at the approach of his face and closed her eyes, which she believed to be the common practice. She felt a little giddiness when, just before their lips separated, Darcy’s tongue took the briefest taste of the point of her upper lip.

  “Oh!” she cried softly.

  “Elizabeth, have I alarmed you?”

  “You surprised me, I think” — She paused then smiled a little impishly — “and pleased me, I am sure.”

  Darcy could only respond by chuckling. He tucked her hand into his elbow again and placed his over it as they proceeded to the house.

  * * *

  Mrs Bennet was informed that much had happened whilst she dawdled over bathing before paying an afternoon call. As she changed from morning dress to an overly decorated walking gown and matching pelisse, a person of great importance had arrived. Mr Darcy followed shortly thereafter and ran out to find Lizzy and his aunt. Then that lady, quite alone, crossed the lawn in a state of pronounced disapprobation and departed. Now Lizzy and Mr Darcy were nowhere to be seen. Mrs Bennet at first implored Mr Bennet to find them but then saw her husband and Jane exchange a look of conspiracy. The implications of it, combined with their immediate withdrawal to his library, left Mrs Bennet fluttering about the drawing room windows like a giant moth, more than usually agitated. So it was that she was the sole witness to the couple’s first kiss. The remarkable nature of such an event left her entirely speechless.

  When Elizabeth and Darcy burst into the drawing room, Mrs Bennet gaped like a gaudy trout. Her eyes fell upon her second eldest child and the heretofore-unpleasant friend of Jane’s intended as if she had never seen these two people before in the whole of her life.

  “Mama! Where is my father? Is he in his library?” Elizabeth asked.

  Mrs Bennet flapped an arm in a manner more affirmative than not, and managed to nod. Darcy smiled into Elizabeth’s eyes, bowed respectfully to his prospective mother-in-law and left the room. He approached the closed door and knocked, hearing the quiet laughter of Jane and her father from within. “Come,” said Mr Bennet.

  Darcy entered to find Jane in a rosy humour and Mr Bennet mirthful. Darcy glanced briefly at Jane with a quick bow and said, “Might I have a moment of your time, Mr Bennet, if I am not interrupting?”

  “Indeed, you may. Proceed,” Mr Bennet replied. He pointed to a chair.

  Darcy looked at Jane more particularly, and said, “A private moment?”

  Jane blushed and stood. Her smile was more than usually enigmatic.

  “What have you to say to me, Mr Darcy, that my eldest daughter should not hear?” Mr Bennet asked and took a sip of lemon water to keep from smiling.

  “Miss Bennet, you may wish to assist Miss Elizabeth with your mother in the drawing room,” Darcy said as he turned to Jane. It was now his turn to suppress a smile. “It appears your mother is in some sort of fit, the power of speech having quite left her. Perhaps she witnessed something shocking. Her silence is the most remarkable thing I have ever seen.”

  “Well, you are a young man yet, Mr Darcy, and I daresay more of the world’s wonders await you, but my wife speechless is indeed a very rare thing and to be much enjoyed whilst it lasts.” Mr Bennet smiled. “Go along, Jane. I am sure Mr Darcy and I will know when your mother is recovered. You needn’t return to inform us.”

  Mr Bennet and Darcy took a moment, once they were alone, to regard one another. Darcy felt it his place to speak. “My first purpose, Mr Bennet, is to thank you for admirably keeping the contents of our correspondence a thorough secret.”

  “You asked it of me, Mr Darcy, and as it posed no hardship or expense, I was glad to do it. I was surprised, to be sure, but I saw the possibility for future amusement in it and I do like to be amused.”

  “So I have been told.”

  “And how does your courtship proceed, sir? I assume you will not think me presumptuous to ask since its object is my favourite daughter. In my response, I warned you of losing your wits should you not overcome her objections, which at the time I believed to be numerous and tightly held. Since I have been at home with her, I have come to be more concerned for her heart than yours. She has not confided in me — in such matters, she never has — nor has she done so in Jane. They have been as close as two coats of paint these many years, but lately Lizzy has been reticent. I put it down to her being lovelorn and not wishing to cast a shadow upon Jane’s happiness. Have you any news?”

  Mr Darcy drew himself upright in his chair and leaned a little forward. “Indeed, Mr Bennet, I do have news. In the last hour, I proposed to Miss Elizabeth and she has accepted me. My most important reason to be seated before you is to ask for your consent.”

  Mr Bennet’s mouth turned up at the corners, and his eyes twinkled with merriment.

  She is her father’s daughter, Darcy thought to himself. She gets her expressions from him.

  “You are not the sort of man to whom I would refuse anything, Mr Darcy. You should know you have been endorsed by my brother Gardiner and his wife, who are the most sensible people in the family, perhaps even more so than Elizabeth and myself.”

  Darcy smiled. Mr Bennet smiled. Darcy started to rise, but Mr Bennet motioned for him to sit. “In the interest of instructing you a little in the art of self-defence, Mr Darcy, I would have you stay a moment. You are, I trust, becoming accustomed to my daughter’s teasing? For I do not imagine she would marry a man she could not pester with impunity.”

  Darcy chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

  “Ah, well then. Let us sit and converse for a little, and draw this out for her sake. We shall not raise our voices, but let us have Lizzy wondering whether this interview and its outcome have been a close run thi
ng, shall we?”

  Darcy laughed. “What a splendid idea!”

  “No laughing, Mr Darcy. She, or Kitty, may be outside the door listening.” Mr Bennet lowered his voice. “Would you like a glass of wine? Is it too early? I have been taking my daily lemon-water. I read years ago that it sharpens the mind. It has not hurt me any, but I will not offer it to you; you seem alert enough.”

  “Life with your daughter will require a ready wit of me, sir. That much I understood after knowing her only a month.” Having spoken, Darcy recalled being told by Elizabeth, during his first proposal, she “had not known you a month before I decided you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed on to marry.” He was a happy man to his very soul now and felt uncharacteristically jolly.

  “If it is not too intimate a question, Mr Darcy, may I ask how you came to find yourself in love with my daughter? Anyone would surmise a gentleman of your rank would have the pick of every fine daughter in the land. How did you fall victim to a country girl with pretty looks and an agile wit, but with low connections and little wealth? I know you slighted her the first night you met, you bounder. I would have lambasted you, had I been there.”

  Darcy looked down with a smile, and his cheeks reddened. “Your daughter defended herself eloquently enough, sir, as she spent the rest of the evening laughing at me. I was used to deference, sir. Miss Elizabeth was not inclined to extend it to me, and as I have come to judge myself through her eyes, I had done nothing to earn it — far from it. I would not dance with her; she heard me say so to Bingley, and her response was to laugh at me and show herself to be the best partner in the room.