Caroline Bingley entered the French parlour with an air of more than her usual grace and over-familiarity in her salutation to a scale of unprecedented proportions. Mr Darcy was all amazement. Still, he received her with great politeness, while he nervously glanced towards the door, in his impatience for Miss Annesley's opportune apparition.
"I hope you are well, Miss Bingley." Then with great civility he invited her to take some refreshments.
"No, I thank you, Darcy. Unless you yourself are taking some. In that case I shall be delighted to oblige you. Otherwise I am content to talk to you. There is a matter of a most urgent nature I have to discuss with you."
The use of his name without the title was cause of great vexation to Darcy. He knew of the lady's infatuation and her attentions had not bothered him before. But now things had changed. "Very well, then. Would you sit down?"
The seat taken, she endeavoured to express her commiserated discourse.
"You must know I had wished to run to you the moment I learned of Lady Anne's sad demise. I would have given my life to be able to be of some use to you, some comfort at least. You must have suffered the unthinkable."
Darcy, immutable, only stared at her, his complexion beginning to gain a distinctive rose colour that showed his discomfort in the manner of her address.
"I begged Charles to pass you my most sincere condolences. The moment I learned you were in town, I made up my mind to come to you. You have been so lonely these past years. London's society has not seen you for a good two years after Lady Catherine fell ill. How much I wished I could have run to you." At this Darcy coughed lightly. Where is Miss Annesley?
"Still, you must be at loss to understand the reason of my coming hither without invitation and at this late hour."
"Indeed, madam. I was wondering just that."
"I know. Your own heart, your honour, your own conscience is at stake, dear Mr Darcy. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago."
"I never heard any myself."
"Oh but I have. I was told that you were on the point of being most disadvantageously married, by been soon united with, you must listen to this, with Miss Eliza Bennet!"
"Is such a report really in existence in London?"
"Indeed it is, sir. Though I know it is a scandalous falsehood, of course! Still, I instantly resolved on setting off for your home that you may be able to do something about it."
"Miss Bingley. You took so much trouble! Why, I must thank you. You have done me a great service, Madam."
"Oh, 'tis nothing Darcy. I am pleased to have been of some service to you! 'Tis the least I can do. After all, I am sure this must have been industriously circulated by my sister, or even Miss Eliza herself!"
"Do you not know if such a report is spread abroad?"
"I can safely declare it is not. You are in time to have the report universally contradicted, perchance allowing yourself be seen in some other lady's company. I dare say that going to church together would suffice…"
"And you can likewise declare the report has only reached London? Do you think it might have reached, say, Cheapside?"
"Oh, I never heard that it had!"
"Still, it is imperative that something be done in those quarters."
"It ought to be done! It must be done! This is not to be borne! You must declare there is no foundation for such a report! It might reach the Earl!"
"I am afraid, Miss Bingley, it is a bit late for that. The Earl of Matlock has already been apprised of my engagement."
"Engagement?"
"Let me be rightly understood. The engagement between Miss Bennet and myself is of a peculiar kind. You see, madam: Miss Bennet did run to me the moment she learned of Anne's unfortunate passing. She did not hesitate to come to me and rushed to meet me with the help of your sister. She did endeavour,( rather successfully I might add) to comfort me when I needed a tender shoulder most. So much so that I felt tempted to beg her to accept my suit directly. However, ours is not a tacit engagement, but a secret one, for I have yet, after procuring the special license, to ask for her hand from her excellent father. Now that you have most kindly and wisely alerted me to this report, I must say I would have to travel to Longbourn right away instead of Pemberley. It is a pity, for I would have very much loved to have been able to prepare the mansion for its new Mistress. I suppose London will do. What say you?"
Caroline Bingley looked at him with utter astonishment.
"I am sorry. I beg your pardon. Did you just say you are engaged?"
"Indeed, Madam. And of course you are invited to the wedding. I am yet to name the date, though. Will you not congratulate me?"
"I am sorry."
"Pardon?"
"I am sorry I… I am a bit shocked, I mean… surprised. Did you say you are, indeed, marrying Miss Eliza?"
"I am."
"How?"
"Pardon?"
"How… how did it happen?"
"I have very little to say about it, Miss Bingley. I dare say I was tempted by her bold action, and allowed her to please me with her company. An old story, probably, a common case. And no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before. Many circumstances assisted the temptation. She is a most beautiful woman, and she willingly came to my own house to assist me in my mourning… But she cared not for her comfort. Only for mine. Lastly, she was continually there. I confess I have always found her very pleasant (with a sigh) and in short I could not repress my feelings any longer. She is to be my bride, and I cannot be pronounced happier."
Miss Bingley could not be paler. She knew when she was not wanted and of that she was certain by now. "Sir, I… must away now. It is getting late. Mrs Hurst must be worried…"
"Of course, Miss Bingley. Dearest Miss Bingley. For dearest to me you will always be. You have always been a good friend. I am certain you shall be equally happy some day."
"I thank you, sir." And turning around, after shaking hands with him, Caroline quitted the room.
When she was gone, Darcy shook his head and said to himself aloud. "The gall of the woman!
Twenty-Six
—
Betrothed and Lovers
The following week after her separation from Mr Darcy found Elizabeth entertained, passing on every intelligence regarding Mrs Darcy's funeral to both her mother and aunt, who in turn, passed it on the Lucases and several other neighbours. She spent her days much in the same manner, occasionally inspecting Richard's letters, which would cause a renewal of crying and feeling empty. One morning, the post brought two more. One of them was from London, the addresser, Miss Darcy. The other was from Mr Collins for her father.
After handing Mr Bennet his correspondence, Elizabeth rushed upstairs to read the letter she knew contained a man's handwriting. It was all she needed to regain composure after those from Richard. Darcy, her very own, the man she had always, truly loved, the brusque, proud man to everyone but his intimates, wrote to her of longing and love, passion and need. It was a handsome letter, indeed. A most highly-prized one. She could almost see his beloved face, his chestnut eyes and small frown when about to kiss her, while she was reading his handsome lines. There was comfort in every word he wrote. Oh, Darcy! May you make haste and come to me! I need you so!
She was called back to earth from her reverie by Hill, who informed her Mr Bennet wished to see her in his library. He was sitting comfortably at his desk, a piece of parchment in his hand. When he saw Elizabeth, Mr Bennet rose and invited her to take a seat.
"Lizzy. The letter I received this morning, which has astonished me exceedingly, was from Mr Collins." Mr Bennet announced.
"What can he have to say?"
"He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my daughter; I shall enlighten your intelligence by reading his remarks on that topic. Ah, yes. Here, here, here. 'Your daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be reasonab
ly looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in the land.' Can you guess who he means, Lizzy? Now it comes out. 'My motive for cautioning you is as follows: the gentleman is in the prime of widowhood, and society will not look on the match with a friendly eye'. Mr Darcy, you see, is the man. Are you not diverted?"
Yes." Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"This is admirable! But Lizzy, you look as if you didn't enjoy it. You're not going to be 'missish' now, and pretend to be affronted by an idle report?"
"Oh, no, I am excessively diverted. It is all so strange."
"What said Miss Darcy? I suppose she wrote to refuse her consent? What do we live for, but to make sport for our neighbours and laugh at them in our turn?"
"True, true."
Hardly had she exited her father's library, when Hill announced the arrival of two gentlemen.
"Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss."
Elizabeth could have died right there. In front of her, standing at her doorway, was Darcy, two weeks earlier than expected! She had to fight the terrible impulse that pulled her to run to his arms. The sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam, behind him, was the final inducement to help her restrain herself.
"Miss Bennet." The two gentlemen bowed at the same time.
"Mr Darcy, Colonel."
She made a courtesy and bid them to take a seat. These were the two men that meant the world to her. Despite her confusion, Elizabeth discerned the Colonel 's presence entailed his loyalty to his cousin. She could not help admiring him for his generosity towards Mr Darcy, and she certainly loved him even better still.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, in which Elizabeth, avoiding both the Colonel's and Darcy's gaze fixed her eyes on the hem of her dress, Mrs Bennet made her entrance.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam, you are very, very welcome."
"How do you do, Mrs Bennet. I…"
"It's far too long since you were here, and very kind of you to call."
"I would have paid my addresses before this, were it not…"
"Well, here you are! I am delighted! And Mr Darcy, you are welcome, too."
Darcy eyed his cousin in bewilderment, then he looked at Elizabeth inquiringly. She had her eyes fixed on her shoes. Leaning slightly towards Fitzwilliam's ear, he muttered in the lowest tone. "You have been here before?"
"Aye, I paid a short visit before I travelled to Spain," answered his cousin in kind.
Mrs Bennet continued her rattling about how much they have missed the Colonel.
"We began to be afraid you would never come back. Ring the bell for tea, Lizzy. A great many changes have taken place since you went away. Miss Catherine is married to your nephew! But of course you know that! So, we are family already. And Miss Mary, she is married and settled in Bath! Oh, but you must tell me about the war. Was it Spain you were faring? Lizzy, have you rung for tea?"
Darcy sent an inquiring look to the Colonel, a mixture of puzzlement and curiosity.
"You certainly made yourself quite dear to the family for such short a visit," he protested.
It was fortunate that Mr Darcy had recently turned into a widower for said fact attracted Mrs Bennet's attention to the unwanted visitor. The astounding novelty of Colonel Fitzwilliam's survival of the war in the peninsula would be dealt with in time. Indeed, the Colonel's presence resulted in a veritable upheaval, for to Mrs Bennet's fancy the dazzling Colonel had come to renew his addresses to Elizabeth. Still, she failed to comprehend the reason for the other gentleman's presence. On recollection of his previous acquaintance with Jane's beau, she surmised Mr Darcy must have been on similar terms with the Colonel, hence, helping him as a chaperone. Mrs Bennet, fidgeted nervously in her seat, as Colonel Fitzwilliam broke the quietness with a comment about the weather conditions.
Suddenly remembering she was yet to express her commiseration on Mrs Darcy's death, Mrs Bennet addressed the widower with a heartfelt voice.
"Mr Darcy, sir. I must express my condolences on your wife's demise. How very sad of so young a person to have parted this world, and childless!" She pronounced the last words as if this had been the greatest of the two misfortunes. "Indeed, how very polite of you to have accompanied the Colonel to visit Miss Bennet."
Mr Darcy, unsure of the stem of her last comment, glared at her. With evident effort, though, he thanked her for her condolences, but immediately clarified his presence.
"'Tis not Fitzwilliam who is in primary attendance, Mrs Bennet. Rather I have come to have the honour of talking to your excellent husband. The Colonel has merely agreed to keep me company. If you would be so kind so as to announce me to Mr Bennet, I will be most obliged."
Mrs Bennet had never been more put out. She stared at Mr Darcy as if unable to comprehend his meaning. Elizabeth intervened.
"Mama, Mr Darcy has come to have a word with Papa."
Much as Colonel Fitzwilliam envied Darcy's situation, he could not help feeling amused by his predicament. Darcy had no idea of the reasons for Mrs Bennet's confusion. Of course, Colonel Fitzwilliam had tried to avoid this meeting with the Bennets in Darcy's presence, but to no avail. Darcy had insisted, well nigh begged him to accompany him. In the end, he had found no excuse to avoid the situation, and agreed to support him yet, against his better judgement. After all, he would have to get used to the idea that Elizabeth would be his cousin and not his wife.
Mrs Bennet, rather puzzled, endeavoured to grasp the situation. "Indeed. I shall apprise Mr Bennet of your presence," she stammered. Still, theretofore she rose from her seat, she vehemently signalled her daughter to follow her.
"What is the meaning of all this? What is that horrible man doing here?" she hissed to her daughter in the corridor. "Well, any friend of the Colonel's will always be welcome here, to be sure. But I must say I hate the sight of him! He will make your beau angry!"
"Mama, the Colonel…"
"But I am determined to be civil. If only because the man is a friend of your beau's, but no more than civil."
"Mama! Mr Darcy is my beau, not the Colonel."
It took Mrs Bennet a good two minutes to recover her speech. When she did, she finally cried out, "Mr Darcy! Of what are you talking? Mr Darcy of all men! That proud, horrible man! Mr Darcy, who probably never looked at you in his life before! This is unbelievable!"
"Indeed, mama. We are engaged."
"Engaged to Mr Darcy! No, you are joking. It is impossible!"
"This is a wretched beginning! If you don't believe me, I'm sure no one else will. Indeed, I am in earnest. He loves me, and we are engaged."
"It cannot be true. I know how much you dislike him!"
"Not any more, Mama. I have told you before. That is all forgotten! He is the best man of my acquaintance! Perhaps I did not always love him as well as I do now. But I love him now, very dearly. And he has come to ask for my hand."
"Lizzy. You never told us anything!"
"Mama, I could not say anything. Mr Darcy proposed only a few days ago."
"At his wife's wake? This is admirable." Suddenly, it began to dawn on her the advantages of such an alliance. "Lizzy! What a catch! What jewels you will have! What pin money! Oh, oh, oh, I must find your father. You go back to him. Mr Darcy! Ten thousand a year. Nay, it must be so much more now, for he has inherited Rosings! Oh, my God. Such a handsome man. So tall, so rich!"
Incapable of containing herself, such was her state when Mrs Bennet headed for the library in search for her husband to apprise him of the good news.
Unprepared as he was for the gentleman's petition, Mr Bennet's reaction was decidedly better than his wife's. He received the gentleman with great civility and heard his speech with grave composure. He gave him his consent with no little battle, though, asking him questions as regards society's frowning on his choice of bride, the short notice of the nuptials and the mourning, to which Mr Darcy 's blunt reply, that he cared little of what the ton might think of him, put an end to the objections. After the first obstacles had been overcome, the two gentlemen set
themselves to cover the matter of Elizabeth's settlement and dowry.
Elizabeth had gone upstairs to her bedroom, and after retrieving Richard's engagement ring from a drawer, she took the letters in her hand. Without even pausing to think, threw them into the fire in the kitchen. Thereupon, she headed for the drawing room, and while Mr Darcy was still talking to her father, she approached the Colonel and asked him to take her for a stroll.
When they had been at a good distance from the house, she handed him the ring back.
"I believe this belongs to your family, sir."
"Yes, it does. I thank you." He could not help a frown as he took the ring. Without giving it a look, he placed it in his pocket.
"May I congratulate you on your engagement?"
"You may." They walked a little further away, her small hand in the crook of his arm, as so many a time it had been.
"Richard, I wish you… I would wish you to believe me that… had circumstances been different…"
"Had old Mr Darcy never had a son."
She blushed and looked around in embarrassment. "Oh, yes."
"But life is full of these trials, as my own life shows me daily," he said sadly.
"Richard… When I fell in love with you, it was a temporary madness. It erupted like an earthquake, and then…"
"And then it subsided. I know. And you had to make a decision." He produced a bunch of letters from his pocket and handed them over to her. "Here." She recognised her letters. "My mother gave me these." The look on her face was one of distress and uneasiness. "No, no. Do not feel concerned." He quickly reassured her. "My mother would not dare talk of this. She merely passed them on to me. They reached my quarters in London and not any further, and were sent to my paternal home only last week."
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