The Road to Pemberley

by Marsha Altman

  “Happen?” she repeated.

  “Yes, between you and Mr. Darcy.”

  “Well, we did all walk out today…” began Elizabeth. She could not continue. She could not meet her father’s eyes.

  “I am aware of that, Lizzy, but it occurred to me that you and Mr. Darcy were gone much longer than the others, and I was wondering…Lizzy, did you really walk so far that you did not know where you were?”

  “As you know, Father, I do walk many places, and…well…” She hesitated.

  “Well?” quizzed Mr. Bennet, urging her to continue.

  “I confess, sir,” said Elizabeth meekly, looking down at her clenched hands in her lap, “that we were not beyond my knowledge. I was not completely truthful. I hoped no one would notice. I should have known that you would. I am sorry.”

  “Dissembling is not a feature of your character, Lizzy. You do not do it well at all,” said Mr. Bennet mildly.

  Elizabeth smiled and looked up, grateful that her father was not truly angry with her. There would, however, be no escape from acknowledging the truth of her situation with Mr. Darcy.

  “Sir, something did happen today, though it is not with me that you should speak.”

  “Oh, and with whom should I speak?”

  Elizabeth paused under her father’s unyielding stare. “With Mr. Darcy, sir,” she said with a smile that seemed to Mr. Bennet to be directed inwardly rather than at himself.

  “Will you tell me?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  “I know you will not let me leave until I do,” she said and laughed. “Very well. Today, Mr. Darcy asked me to marry him, and I accepted. We spoke of everything. It was not until we turned westward and the sun was low on the horizon that Mr. Darcy checked his pocket watch and realized that we had been gone far too long. But there had been so much to say. Oh, Father, I love him!”

  “You love Mr. Darcy? I thought you hated him!” Mr. Bennet could not retain his seat. He stood and paced about the room. “Are you out of your senses to be accepting that man?

  Elizabeth smiled tenderly at her father. “I know that in the beginning I did not always speak favorably of Mr. Darcy.”

  “Lizzy, is that what you call it? ‘Favorably’? My dear, you taught half of Meryton to hate the man!” cried her father.

  “I was wrong, so very wrong!” she protested. “I came to know him better when I was at Hunsford. He was staying with his aunt at Rosings Park, and we were with each other daily, and I saw him again in Derbyshire when I traveled there with my aunt and uncle, and I liked him so very much.”

  Mr. Bennet noticed a faraway look in her eyes.

  “Lizzy, I know very little about what you did at Hunsford and nothing at all about Derbyshire,” said Mr. Bennet.

  “Mr. Darcy proposed marriage to me at Hunsford.”

  Mr. Bennet could not hide his surprise. “But—”

  “I refused him,” she answered, “because I did not know him then. Everything changed when I saw him and fell in love with him in Derbyshire. I loved him, and only news of Lydia’s elopement could have taken me away from him.”

  “What do you mean, ‘taken you away’?” Mr. Bennet was incredulous.

  “I love him, Father,” said Elizabeth unabashedly. “If he had asked me to stay with him at Pemberley, I would have, but we left before I had the chance to see him again.”

  Mr. Bennet asked the question that had been on his mind all afternoon.

  “Have you…has he…I mean, have you been…” he cleared his throat. “Has he made any…advances toward you. I mean, have you been…compromised …in any way? Is there any reason—”

  Elizabeth interrupted him with a gasp. “No, that has not happened.”

  Mr. Bennet took out a handkerchief and wiped the perspiration off his brow.

  “You obviously feel a great deal for him, Lizzy,” admitted Mr. Bennet, “but is he a good man?”

  “He is the best man I know, Papa. He has the good opinion of all his servants and tenants at Pemberley. My Aunt Gardiner inquired of all her acquaintance in Lambton and the surrounding neighborhood, and he is held in high esteem. He is raising his younger sister, Miss Darcy, and you would never meet a more well-mannered, considerate young lady. She is a joy to be around, and I look forward with great anticipation to being her sister.”

  Her father frowned slightly.

  “I know I did not speak well of him and that I accused him of pride, but, Father, he has no pride at all. The problem was me and the prejudices I had nurtured from the very beginning of our acquaintance.”

  “That is all well and good, Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, “and I will give him credit for being a good brother, master, landlord, and neighbor, but that may mean nothing. Does he truly love you?”

  “He does, Father. And you will love him nearly as much as I do when you get to know him. He is Mr. Bingley’s closest friend, and I know your good opinion of Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth.

  “Why has he not sought my consent?” demanded Mr. Bennet.

  “He wanted to approach you tonight, but I begged him to wait just one day until I could speak with you. I knew that you would be…surprised by the alteration in my feelings for him.”

  “Very well. Lizzy.” Mr. Bennet pondered for a moment and determined to test her commitment. “I do not know if I trust your Mr. Darcy. What if I withhold my consent?”

  Elizabeth was shocked and tears formed in her eyes.

  “Papa, please do not put me in that situation! I love you both and you will love him, too. Please, Father! Please give us your blessing!”

  Elizabeth buried her face in her hands and began to cry. Mr. Bennet watched her for a moment, regretting that he had provoked her. It had not been his intent to make her unhappy.

  “Hush, Lizzy. All will be well.” Mr. Bennet was resigned. Elizabeth would marry Mr. Darcy. “You know, Lizzy, it pains me to lose you.”

  Elizabeth looked up at her father. “You will not lose me, Papa. And I love him.”

  “Come here, child.” Mr. Bennet stood pulled Elizabeth into his arms and kissed her forehead.

  “I will give you my consent, Lizzy.”

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  “You run along to bed now. I look forward to seeing your Mr. Darcy tomorrow.”

  With a smile, Elizabeth rose and stepped to the door. Just as she took hold of the knob, her father called her back.

  “Lizzy, it could be some weeks before you can be married.” He cleared his throat. “I think it would be…inadvisable…for you and Mr. Darcy to be…to be alone…too much…together,” stuttered Mr. Bennet.

  “Can I not have a small ceremony scheduled in the shortest time?

  “How short a time?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  “Mr. Darcy can procure a license from town. We could marry within the week. But Mama—”

  “You do not feel you need time to consider your feelings for him? You are certain in your decision to marry him?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  “I am. Please, Papa, I know that my love for him seems to be a sudden thing. But I am convinced that it has been there—or at least developing—all along.”

  “Very well, Lizzie,” Mr. Bennet said with a smile. “I have given you my consent, dearest, and I will give you my assistance. Lizzy, I promise that in five days you shall be Mr. Darcy’s bride.”

  “Five days? You can do that for me? For us?”

  Mr. Bennet nodded.

  “Thank you, Papa! But what about Mama?” Elizabeth questioned. “She will insist on a large ceremony with all of Meryton there and—”

  Mr. Bennet cut her off. “I will attend to her. Elizabeth. Five more days. Be patient, my child.”

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy arrived at Longbourn in such good time that none of the ladies were dressed for the day.

  Mr. Bennet, however, was eager to speak with Mr. Darcy, so he went to the hall and welcomed the Netherfield gentlemen.

  “Good morning, Son,” said Mr. Bennet to
Mr. Bingley.

  Bingley laughed and wished Jane’s father a good morning.

  “And you are very welcome also, sir,” Mr. Bennet said to Mr. Darcy as he took his hand. “I am pleased that you could come today, and so early, too.”

  “Uh…thank you, sir.” Darcy was a little surprised at Mr. Bennet’s warm greeting. “I am very happy to be here, Mr. Bennet,” said Darcy. “I apologize that we are so early, as I see your daughters are not yet down. Bingley was eager to see Miss Bennet.”

  Mr. Bennet smiled. “And is that to say, Mr. Darcy, that you are not eager to see a Miss Bennet yourself?”

  Bingley nudged Darcy with his elbow while Darcy looked at the floor, struggling to hide a momentary embarrassment.

  “Well, I am happy, sir—”

  “Mr. Darcy,” interrupted Mr. Bennet, “I would like some private conversation with you, sir. If you will please excuse us, Mr. Bingley.”

  Mr. Bingley bowed his assent and Mr. Bennet led Darcy to the library.

  Darcy had intended to arrange for a private interview with Mr. Bennet, but had imagined that it would take place in the evening. For now, he was eager to see Elizabeth again and renew all that they had said and felt the day before. He desperately wanted to see Elizabeth—alone, if possible—and be assured from her own lips that what she had told him yesterday was true—that she loved him. If even a moment of privacy could be attained, he would take her in his arms and kiss those lips again.

  “Mr. Darcy, perhaps you would like to sit here,” said Mr. Bennet, motioning to the chair Elizabeth had occupied the prior evening. Mr. Bennet moved behind his desk.

  “I have asked you in here, Mr. Darcy, in order to establish the truth of a marvelous tale I heard yesterday evening.”

  “What tale, sir?”

  “Elizabeth tells me that she is in love with a man whom she hates!”

  Darcy’s breath caught in his throat. “Sir?”

  “Let me be frank, Mr. Darcy. From the very beginning of your acquaintance with my family, the only reports I have heard of you have been distressingly unfavorable. Indeed, if it were not for your close friendship with Mr. Bingley, my future son-in-law, you might not even be welcome at Longbourn.”

  Darcy could feel a cold perspiration form on his forehead. “I pray that you will accept my apologies, sir,” began Darcy. “I know that I have behaved in a manner that could appear—”

  “Let me see,” interrupted Mr. Bennet. He was beginning to enjoy himself. “What was it that Elizabeth told me? Something shocking, offensive, and quite ungentlemanly.”

  “I do not understand—”

  “Perhaps you will recognize these words, Mr. Darcy. I repeat them as Elizabeth herself related them to me: ‘She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me.’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

  Darcy was stunned at hearing the cruelty of his own words. How often had he regretted saying them! How often had he feared that Elizabeth had overheard him! He had grown easy as time passed and she did not mention that awful occasion. He had begun to feel that she had not, after all, overheard him. To have it now mentioned, and by her father, was…horrible.

  “Please let me apologize, Mr. Bennet,” begged Darcy. “I did not know Elizabeth, and I was in a very ill humor. I wished to recall those words the instant they were spoken.”

  Darcy’s discomfiture was evident and Mr. Bennet almost felt guilty for having thrust a dagger into Mr. Darcy’s heart.

  “Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet, “you will be happy to know that Elizabeth has forgiven you, and if she can overlook the offense, then so can I.”

  Darcy was visibly relieved and managed to croak his thanks.

  “In any case, Mr. Darcy, that is not the reason I asked to speak with you. You see, I am aware that you have some business with me. Perhaps you would like to begin?”

  Darcy stood up and began to step away from his seat, as if escaping confinement.

  “It is rather early, Mr. Darcy, but may I offer you a glass of port? You appear to me to be…uh…nervous.” Mr. Bennet’s eyes held a glint of amusement.

  Darcy shook his head and resumed his seat, and summoning up what courage remained in him, began to speak.

  “Mr. Bennet, you have me at a great disadvantage. I am in love with a woman who hated me, and through circumstances both propitious and fortunate, she now loves me and I have persuaded her to accept my offer of marriage.”

  “Ah, yes, persuasion. That is something I want to touch upon, but it can wait. I am fascinated, sir,” said Mr. Bennet. “Please go on!”

  “I have asked Elizabeth to marry me, and she has consented. I am now seeking your consent.”

  “That is very interesting, Mr. Darcy, but I am convinced that she hates you. How can I consent to a marriage based on such a feeling?”

  “Mr. Bennet, I am quite certain that Elizabeth does not hate me. We have become good friends since our accidental meeting in Derbyshire. It is there that I won her affection and regard. I would have asked for her hand then, had not urgent family business arisen to take her away. You cannot imagine how I suffered when I learned she had left the country and I had not been able to see her.”

  “If you do feel as you say you do, then, yes, it must have been a difficult time for you.”

  Darcy was surprised to hear words of compassion from Mr. Bennet, and his failing hopes gained some life.

  “I love Elizabeth very much, and we want your blessing to our union,” said Darcy.

  “And if I withhold my consent?” asked Mr. Bennet.

  “You would disappoint and hurt your daughter.” Darcy’s head began to throb.

  “That is a bold statement, sir.”

  “I am confident in my feelings for her and hers for me.”

  “That is a good basis for an understanding. I must be honest with you, Mr. Darcy. I had a private conversation with Elizabeth yesterday evening and she expressed a similar confidence in your feelings for her. She has spoken to me of your good qualities and has convinced me of your merit. It is not my intention to disappoint her, Mr. Darcy. Therefore, you have my consent to marry her…”

  “Thank you, sir! I promise that I—”

  Mr. Bennet continued his thought. “…but on my terms only.”

  Darcy’s elation was quickly stifled.

  “My daughter is impatient to marry.”

  “As am I, sir.”

  “Yes, well…” Mr. Bennet coughed. “Allow me, Mr. Darcy, to offer a suggestion. Elizabeth tells me that it is within your power to obtain a license to marry, and that you can do so in a short period of time. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “I have heard a rumor that you are required in Derbyshire by the beginning of next week to attend to matters of your estate there,” said Mr. Bennet.

  “Excuse me?” said Darcy.

  “I understand that you must leave Hertfordshire in just a few days.”

  “My plans were to remain at Netherfield until our wedding,” declared Darcy.

  “Mr. Darcy, I thought I understood that you were unable to remain long in Hertfordshire, and therefore a long engagement and a large ceremony were impossible. Is that not true?” said Mr. Bennet slyly.

  “Well…” began Darcy hesitantly, “I believe…yes…I believe you are correct. I almost forgot. I must be at Pemberley next Monday. Since we have your consent, “ he said bravely, “is there any hope of an early marriage that will make it possible for Elizabeth to accompany me?”

  “Those are my thoughts exactly, Mr. Darcy.”

  “They are? I thank you.” What a relief!

  “I propose the following. I suggest that you leave this very day—this very hour—for town to obtain the marriage license. I recommend that you then find some reason to remain in town for three days. On the fourth, you will travel back to Netherfield, where you will have much to speak of with Mr. Bingley. On the fifth day, early in the morning, you will see Elizabeth at the altar of the Longbourn church.”
r />   “Mr. Bennet, I am indebted to your kindness and generosity. May I tell Elizabeth the good news?”

  “That will be impossible, Mr. Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet.

  “I am certain she will be down by now. I have no doubt that—”

  “Impossible, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Why is that, sir?” Darcy was annoyed.

  “Because, sir, you have already left. I will extend your best wishes and warmest regards to my daughter. Indeed, as you have expressed to me your love for her, I will pass on that message as well, and relate the substance of our conversation. I assure you, Mr. Darcy, in five days she will be prepared to marry you. Five days, sir.”

  Darcy was speechless.

  Mr. Bennet rose from his seat. “Let me see you to the door.”

  Chapter 3

  Having heard that Mr. Darcy had already arrived at the house, Elizabeth readied herself quickly. She had passed a long night recalling the course of her relationship with Mr. Darcy. Whatever pain she may have suffered at the beginning of it was easily forgotten in the pleasure of his embrace and knowing that her future with him was secure.

  Whatever the day would bring, Elizabeth knew that she would seek opportunities to be in his arms again.

  Her father had promised that she would be Mr. Darcy’s wife in five days. Five days! It seemed an eternity.

  Elizabeth hurried down the stairs into the drawing room, fully expecting to see Mr. Darcy.

  Entering the room, she was met not by Mr. Darcy, but by her sisters. And Mr. Bingley. And her father.

  “Elizabeth, may I speak privately with you?”

  “Of course, Father, but where is Mr. Darcy? I understood that he was here with Mr. Bingley.”

  At the mention of his name, Bingley bowed.

  “Yes, it is he of whom I wish to speak,” confessed Mr. Bennet.

  Elizabeth gave him a questioning and confused look.

  “Come with me into the garden, Elizabeth,” said Mr. Bennet as he led the way to the door.

  Elizabeth had no choice but to follow. Dark questions arose in her mind. Had Mr. Darcy not come? She had been expecting him. What did it mean that he was not there?