by Wynne Mabry
left the room, and Mrs. Jenkinson, who had been waiting in the hall and probably eavesdropping, hurried back into the room. She still looked displeased with him, but they both came down for breakfast the next morning, which he took as a good sign. Anne also followed his instructions to be available for visitors, and it seemed that she was made happy by receiving them. He stayed away, allowing the morning room to be her domain, but Georgiana reported that Anne enjoyed having company and was making a few friends.
She also had her mother’s company for a week that Lady Catherine spent in London, staying with them. They dined once with the Matlocks, which caused some awkwardness. Lady Catherine sat in the middle of one seat with her cloak spread across it, forcing Anne to sit beside her husband. She did not look happy about that, but Mr. Darcy took great care not to even brush against her. His effort seemed successful in keeping her from feeling threatened by his presence. She behaved quite normally, which was to say that she barely spoke or paid attention to anything other than her cards when they played after dinner.
He did not enjoy the evening though, and he was very glad that they had no other engagements at the moment. Many people had left town for the summer and there was not much going on, but at least there were still enough visitors to give his wife some useful occupation. Two frequent ones were Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, with whom she had become good friends.
On one of their visits, Mr. Darcy encountered them on their way to the drawing room. Curious to know in what manner Miss Bingley would treat him, he stopped for a minute of conversation. Her exceptional politeness could perhaps be taken as a form of apology.
Later that morning, Anne came to his study for the first time. He was a little surprised by this brave foray into his personal room, but she had come with a purpose. “I would like to invite Caroline and Louisa to dinner one evening that is convenient for you. And Mr. Hurst, of course,” she added as an afterthought.
That was how many people thought of Mr. Hurst. Mr. Darcy smiled a little, and he thought that his wife might have smiled slightly in return.
“Any evening will be fine by me,” he replied. “I have no engagements. Choose whichever day you like.”
As she thanked him, he felt hopeful that they could develop an amicable relationship.
Perhaps the matter of children could even be revisited one day, but for now, this cooperation between them was excellent progress. Of course, he did not much look forward to dining with Miss Bingley and the Hursts, but he felt the importance of accommodating his wife’s wishes. It could not be an easy thing in general for ladies to adjust themselves to new homes, and for somebody like Anne, who had never been much away from home, it must be especially difficult. A husband should do what he could to ease that transition.
They entertained these guests two days later, and he was pleased to see that Anne enjoyed the evening. She talked much more than usual, although mainly to her friends. To him, she said very little, and after dinner, they played cards at different tables. He asked about her game a few times, but she answered very briefly, and never made any enquiry of him. After their company had left, she went straight to bed without saying anything of the evening.
Mr. Darcy watched her go a little sadly. They had achieved a sort of mutual tolerance, but they were not friends, and might never be. As far as he knew, Mrs. Jenkinson continued to sleep in the extra bed, which was evidence that his wife still did not entirely trust him. At least she had ceased to look at Mr. Darcy as though he was a monster, and even Mrs. Jenkinson did not glare anymore. Under the circumstances, he had to consider this a great success.
She had been pleased with phaeton too, but unsurprisingly, he was never invited to accompany her on one of her outings. It was as though she saw him mainly as a facilitator of her pleasures, never as a source of them.
Accepting this role, he did his best to make her comfortable, consulting her wishes and always trying to speak in a gentle tone that would not frighten her. She fulfilled her obligations in turn, but she never did anything with him other than what was required for the sake of politeness. It was not a satisfying relationship, but it was an adequate one.
Near the end of June, they were to leave London. He had decided that it was practical to travel directly to Pemberley after attending Mr. Bingley’s wedding. Anne had been given plenty of notice, and he thought that all was settled, but the day before they were to leave, she suddenly declared that this plan did not suit her after all.
“Derbyshire is much too far away,” she said. “I cannot manage such a long journey. It will make me ill.”
Mr. Darcy looked at her in surprise for a moment, and then he hastily considered the matter. There was no need to require this of her. Her presence not vital either at the wedding or at Pemberley. Indeed, he would enjoy his summer better without having to be constantly thinking of what would please Anne.
Finding no reason to protest her decision, he went directly to practicalities. “I do not think you will want to be in London during the hot weather. Is it your wish to go to Rosings?”
That was exactly what she desired, so Mr. Darcy sent a letter to Lady Catherine, advising her of her daughter’s imminent arrival and then went out to arrange for her travel. The next morning, before going away himself, he saw his wife off in a hired post-chaise and then breathed easy for the first time since his wedding.
For the next three months, he would be free of an encumbrance. It was a terrible way to be thinking of his wife, but he could use a break from the effort that he was having to make. Perhaps for a little while, he could forget that he even had a wife.
A Truly Lovely Day for a Wedding
The day of Jane’s wedding was bright and sunny. Everybody looked out upon the weather with satisfaction.
“We would have coped if it had rained, but this is much better,” Mrs. Bennet said.
“Coped?” repeated Mr. Bennet with his eyebrows raised. “Have you not been saying for weeks that rain on this day would be a travesty?”
His wife ignored this accurate recollection of her own words and went to make certain that all was ready for the wedding breakfast. After that, she fussed over the bride, and then she, Kitty, and Mary went to the church with the Gardiners, who had come to join in the celebration. Elizabeth, who was bridesmaid, was to go with her father and the bride.
The two sisters were still upstairs in Jane’s room, which was crowded with boxes and trunks, some ready for the wedding journey and others waiting to be taken to Netherfield.
“It is very strange to be leaving,” Jane said, taking one last look around the room. “Quite sad really. There are many things I shall miss.”
“But so many to anticipate as well,” Elizabeth said. “It is the end of one life, but the beginning of another. And a very good one, I am sure. This is just what I always hoped for you. Marriage for love, and to a gentleman with many excellent qualities. I am so happy that your dream has come true.”
“I hope it will happen for you as well, Lizzy. Perhaps you will meet somebody in London this winter.”
“Not even married yet, and you are already starting to sound like Mama.” Elizabeth smiled.
Jane laughed. “I hope I will never be that determined to see you married, or the least bit concerned about the advantages of the match, but I very much want you to have the same happiness.”
“I would like that too, but for now I am quite content to bask in yours.”
They left the room, with one more backward glance from Jane, and went downstairs where their father was waiting to escort them to church. As she walked down the aisle behind her sister, Elizabeth looked about, taking in the happy faces. Among them, she saw Georgiana Darcy and her companion, both smiling widely and looking delighted to be there. She was glad that Jane had invited them and looked forward to furthering their acquaintance afterwards.
Mrs. Darcy, who had also been invited, did not appear to be present though. Elizabeth was sorry to see this. The few comments which Mr. Bingley had
made about his friend’s wedding had not given her much confidence that Mr. Darcy would be happy with his choice. She had been hoping to see evidence today that she was mistaken. That would have relieved her concerns about him, but instead, they were now increased.
He was standing beside Mr. Bingley and also smiling, which was good to see, but she could not help glancing at him a few times during the ceremony, and then she perceived flickers of unhappiness in his expression, which renewed her worry that he had made a dreadful error because of their quarrel. Of course, she could not be responsible for his actions, but that did not keep her from feeling heavy-hearted.
Once the service was complete, the two of them had to sign the register as witnesses. Jane and Mr. Bingley signed first, and then Elizabeth, who carefully avoided looking at Mr. Darcy while handing the quill on to him, but she felt uncomfortable in this situation which might well be reminding him of his unfulfilled hopes. They also had to walk side by side while following the bride and groom out of the church, which was awkward, but within seconds of emerging into the sunshine they were separated by the guests who had hastily followed an were now surging about.
There was also a large group of villagers who had assembled outside the church for their share in the celebration. The bride and groom were greeted with a loud cheer from this joyful congregation, and seeds and rice were tossed wildly into the air. In keeping with tradition, the crowd escorted the wedding party back to Longbourn in a rather boisterous fashion. As they were jostled merrily along, Elizabeth bumped into Miss Darcy.
“I have never been in such a crowd,” she said. “It is rather overwhelming, but I do think this very jolly. It is nice to see the celebration being enjoyed by the whole village.”
There really was no arrogance about the girl, Elizabeth thought. And she seemed a little less shy at this second meeting between them. She had even spoken loud enough to be heard above the din made by a young boy who was energetically banging saucepans together above his head.
Once the party reached Longbourn, the enthusiastic group of villagers gave one last cheer before heading homeward, and the invited guests went to partake of the wedding breakfast. Elizabeth talked for a while with Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, and in the course of that conversation, she realised that not only had Mrs. Darcy declined to accompany them on this occasion, but even worse, they were going directly on to Pemberley without her. Even for what appeared to be a marriage of convenience, Elizabeth found this separation of a newly-married couple concerning. It suggested too great a degree of indifference.
Mr. Darcy did not talk to her at all during the breakfast. In fact, he barely talked to anybody, but she saw that her aunt and uncle were singled out for that privilege. This was evidence that Jane had been quite correct about his friendliness with them, but otherwise, he mainly talked with Mr. Bingley and his sisters. It was almost like a repeat of the assembly last autumn.
He was required to make a speech though. As everybody quietened to hear him, Elizabeth wondered if he was up to the task.
“I shall not talk at great length,” he began. “I do not want to bore anybody with an excess of words.” His good-humoured tone was met with laughter. “Anyway, it should only take a few words to say what matters. Mr. Bingley is a very lucky man. He has married a lady of exceptional character and good nature. Fortunately for her, he is almost as agreeable as she is.” His audience laughed again, and he smiled at his friend. “I believe they stand an excellent chance of never having a moment’s disagreement. They are truly the best-matched couple I have ever known, and if any marriage can be perfect, it is this one.”
There was applause, and everybody drank to the couple’s good health. He retired into the background again, and Elizabeth saw sadness return to his expression. He was obviously not happy, which stirred her to sympathy and made her appreciate the sweetness of his words all the more.
Anguish Amidst Happiness
Mr. Darcy had watched as his sister and Mrs. Annesley talked to Elizabeth. He knew of their brief meeting, but it was still a surprise to see them getting along so well. Georgiana, who was generally shy, was being remarkably talkative with the lady who might have been her sister if only things had been different.
If only. Mr. Darcy knew that he thought those words far too often. It was not good for him to keep wishing that the past could be undone, but he had so little reason to look forward to the future.
He could not help feeling some envy this morning. The bride and groom were so obviously elated, and that was reflected in the joyful mood of all the guests. Unlike his own wedding, the weather had been perfect. The sun had shone brightly upon the couple. It had even penetrated a little into his heart. Despite the unavoidable comparison to his own marriage, he felt happy for his friend.
That carried him through his speech, but after concluding, he felt drained of happiness. He only wanted to stand alone, but his solitude was interrupted by Miss Bingley, who seemed determined to keep talking to him, perhaps because she wanted to be certain of still having his friendship, or perhaps because she thought it practical to force hers upon him.
“I understand you are going on to Pemberley after the wedding,” she said.
“We are,” he confirmed.
“But Mrs. Darcy is not here today? Does she not travel with you?”
“No, it is too long a journey for her, so she has gone to visit Rosings instead.”
“Oh, of course,” she said. “Yes, a long journey would be too much for somebody as delicate at Mrs. Darcy. It does remind me that I am fortunate to have excellent health. The journey to Pemberley is nothing to me.”
He wondered if this was a hint. He had not invited the Hursts to Pemberley this year.
“Indeed, nothing is too arduous for me,” she continued. “I have remarkable energy and fortitude. I do feel for Mrs. Darcy. It is sad that she has such a weak constitution.”
Now he wondered if Miss Bingley was anticipating that he would be widowed before long. It sounded almost as though she was recommending herself as his second wife.
“Anne is not so very delicate,” he said in an effort to put a stop to such thoughts. He was not happy with his wife, but he did not wish an early death for her, and even if that happened, he would never marry Miss Bingley. A man who had made one bad decision ought to know enough to never repeat the mistake.
“She copes admirably,” Miss Bingley said, but still in a tone of feigned sympathy. He really did not think much of her as a friend for his wife. He felt inclined to give Anne a hint of reconsidering her choice of companions, but he doubted that she would take kindly to the advice. There was a great deal of stubbornness in her, and probably far less delicacy than people generally assumed. She was very capable of doing whatever she liked.
“Will you be having guests at Pemberley this summer?” Miss Bingley asked him now.
“No, I shall not. We intend to be very quiet this year. I would have invited your brother if he had not been about to take a wedding journey, but I look forward to having him and Mrs. Bingley to stay next year. I hope that you and the Hursts will also be able to visit at that time.” This was like tossing her a reward for good behaviour today, but he wanted to show his approval of it. He had noticed her civility toward the Bennet family with satisfaction. She and Mrs. Hurst had even been agreeable to Mrs. Bennet, despite despising that lady.
“We shall also look forward to it,” she said.
A little later, while speaking with the Gardiners, he learned that they were intended to spend some time in Derbyshire that summer. After looking to make certain that Miss Bingley was not nearby, he invited them to pay a visit at Pemberley while they were in the vicinity.
He did not talk to Elizabeth until the end of the celebration. Everybody had gathered to wave off the newlyweds. After the Bingleys’ carriage drove away, its place was taken by others in succession.
Among the bustle of various departures, Mr. Darcy found Elizabeth at his elbow.
“I have been hopi
ng for a moment to thank you,” she said. “It has been evident to me that you chose to make amends for your misperceptions concerning my sister. I am grateful that you did.”
“I thought it right to do so.”
“I also want to apologise to you for unfairly accusing you of inflicting misfortune upon Mr. Wickham.”
“You believed what I wrote?”
“I did. There was so much honesty in your account. I knew that it had to be true, and after thinking things over, I also began to see some inconsistencies in Mr. Wickham’s behaviour. He did a very good job of making himself seem hard-done-by, and I was stupidly taken in, which I regret. My sympathies for him were completely misplaced.”
“It was not your fault,” he said. “If I had behaved differently in Hertfordshire last autumn, then Wickham’s story would not have seemed so credible.”
An awkwardness hung over the pair, but it was broken by Georgiana coming to join them. They talked for a few more minutes, but Mr. Darcy did not say much. Then their own carriage drew up, and he could only say goodbye while feeling that there was more which he would have liked to address.
That brief conversation was on his mind the whole way to Derbyshire. She had believed him. It appeared that she had not been in love with Mr. Wickham after all. Her manner had not suggested anything more than disappointment in herself.
He had been such a fool. His certainty of never succeeding with Elizabeth had made him rash. Now he had to wonder if there could have been a chance after all. She had been open to believing him. On further acquaintance, she might have changed her mind about many things. But it was too late.
A Culmination of Bitterness
It was quiet at Longbourn, and not just because of Lydia’s absence. With Jane gone, even though for the happiest of reasons, Elizabeth was still feeling the loss of her dearest sister too much to be her usual lively self. Kitty was moody because she had not been invited to Brighton, and Mary had sprained a wrist, which prevented her playing the pianoforte for several weeks. With nothing to vex her, and a great deal to anticipate, Mrs. Bennet was snoozing the summer away, dreaming of a glorious winter in which her other four daughters would become engaged to men of wealth and status. Mr. Bennet was enjoying a rare opportunity to read without interruption.