Back then Elizabeth would have laughed at the idea of his disdain, but now she cringed. “I will do what I can, Mama. But I don’t want the man thinking that I am forcing myself on him in order to engage his affections.”
“Goodness me, Lizzy! Mr. Darcy would never imagine that in a month of Sundays. He knows that he is far beyond our aspirations - only think of his titled relatives, vast wealth and properties. He will marry someone quite aristocratic. Mr. Bingley might be Mr. Darcy’s friend, but he is not as well connected, and he was, of course, drawn by Jane’s exceptional beauty. As a family, I hope that we are aware of our station in life. You may rely on Mr. Darcy assuming that we are. We’ve never given him any reason to think otherwise.”
It was Jane who, looking at her sister’s face, put an end to the discomfort of the conversation. “Aunt Gardiner must have meant this length of silk for you, Lizzy,” she said. “Perhaps it will do for the ball? What do you say?”
Chapter 20
“It is one of the great troubles of life that we cannot
have any unmixed emotions. There is always
something in our enemy that we like, and
something in our sweetheart that we dislike.”
W. B. Yeats
Never had he felt so tempted to strangle someone, Darcy thought as he watched Caroline Bingley’s mouth open and close. Due to the clatter of the coach over the stony surface of the road, it was frequently difficult to hear what she was saying and he preferred it that way. But catching Bingley’s apologetic smiles from the other side of the carriage, he guiltily felt that he ought to begin to make more of an effort: even if it was only to look as if he was attending to her conversation.
Caroline and had been babbling ever since they had boarded the carriage in London and from the contradictory nature of some of her statements - she seemed to be in two minds about the most proper way to feel on this occasion. A minute ago he had heard the word ‘Bennet’ and had made the mistake of looking up from his reading. Now, from the odd phrase that he caught here and there, she seemed to be putting out feelers, tentatively making small, negative remarks about the Bennet family - unsure as yet of just how far she could go. He could see that she believed her brother to be marrying beneath himself, but was being carefully neutral in the face of Darcy’s reluctance to voice an opinion on the topic.
Now that she had his attention, she leaned forward. “So, you have met them, Darcy. What is your opinion of these Bennets?” she said, pitching her voice above the rattle of the coach.
Besides the condescension inherent in the phrase ‘these Bennets’, calling him ‘Darcy’ was one of the things that Caroline Bingley did that most grated on his nerves. It implied that equality and friendship existed between them; when it had been all he could do to shake the dratted woman off his coat tails for the past few years.
He looked at her coolly. “I haven’t had the opportunity to make a close study of them, Miss Bingley; not as your brother has done,” he said in a bored tone. “From what I have observed, the Bennet family is genteel, coming from a long line of gentlemen farmers in this area. It seems that their landholdings were once significantly larger and included the land on which your brother’s house stands today. Of course Netherfield is much newer than their home, Longbourn, which looks to be very old indeed.’
“Mr. Bennet is a very well-educated gentleman, something of a scholar in fact. His wife is more typical of the educated middle-class in this area. In fact, I believe that she has one brother in the professions and you have already met Mr. Gardener who is in trade. The family has four very handsome daughters. Jane is followed by Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is just a little younger and, like her father, something of a scholar. Then there is Miss Mary, who will be marrying the heir to Longbourn on the same day as Charles marries Miss Bennet, and finally there is Miss Kitty upon whom it is too early to pass judgement.”
With that, he opened his book again and lowered his eyes to the page. He knew that she had wanted his opinion; not a recitation of facts. Let her make of that what she will, he thought and made an effort to shut out her voice.
Darcy might be haughty but was seldom as discourteous as he had just been. His response had been shaped by a surprising need to protect the Bennets from Caroline Bingley’s sharp tongue. Perhaps he had gone too far. She was no fool and the last thing that he wanted to do was alert Caroline to the attraction that he had felt for Elizabeth Bennet when he was last in Hertfordshire.
Since he had boarded the coach and seen her sitting there, Darcy had been experiencing repeated misgivings about standing up for his friend at his marriage. Caroline loathed the countryside, so she had come up early for one reason only: she hoped to spend more time in his company. From experience, he knew that she would take any opportunity to latch onto him and he feared now that if he wanted to escape her attentions, he would be forced out of the house with Bingley. Therein lay the rub: spending more time than necessary at Longbourn in the company of Elizabeth Bennet did not suit Darcy either.
He suppressed a heavy sigh. All in all, it was going to be a testing week.
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The season was further advanced in Hertfordshire than it had been in London. The earthy smell of autumn hung in the air. There were wet leaves underfoot and the trees were almost bare, but Darcy was left to appreciate the seasonal changes on his own. Nature left Caroline unmoved, and Bingley - who on his first visit had taken so much pleasure in Netherfield and its environs - had no interest in anything other than rushing off the property and making his way down the road to Longbourn.
“This is indecent haste, Charles. Surely tomorrow will be soon enough to pay your respects to the Bennets. We are barely in the door and I have yet to be shown about the house,” complained his sister …with some justification, Darcy admitted to himself as he pushed his empty plate aside.
Charles impatiently pushed back his chair and walked over to the bell pull. After a brief pause the door opened.
“Richards, please ask Mrs. Challoner to set aside two hours of her time this afternoon in order to allow Miss Bingley to view Netherfield. She will find my sister awaiting her here in the parlour,” he said, walking towards the door to where the butler stood.
He stopped and said over his shoulder, “Now, that takes care of that, Caroline. I’m on my way upstairs to change and I will see you later in the day. Darcy, will you be joining me or would you prefer to spend the afternoon here?”
“No. No, a walk would be the very thing!” said Darcy hastily.
_____________________________
It had taken the two men no more than half an hour to quit Netherfield. The wind was stiff and blowing against them, but such was Bingley’s impatience that they arrived at the turn off to Longbourn in record time, only to see the very two people that they sought in the distance. Darcy’s heart gave a mighty leap at the sight of Jane and Elizabeth walking through the village towards them. He fought hard to suppress the foolish smile that threatened to break out across his face, but as they drew closer his elation suddenly changed to a feeling of fear.
My God, she is magnificent; he thought as the wind plucked at Elizabeth’s gown and moulded the fabric against her slender body. Up close, her cheeks were rosy and her shining, windblown curls peeked out from the edges of a straw bonnet. Her eyes, in their frame of lush, dark lashes, seemed almost transparent in their green clarity and sparkled with friendliness as she extended her hand in greeting. Just as Darcy had feared, he felt a strong urge to move closer. His infatuation had abated not one whit.
I am never going to manage this without exposing myself, was his last coherent thought before he forced himself to bend briefly over her hand and, on rising, smile vacuously in return. In self-defense, he focused all his attention on Bingley who, with a small sigh of satisfaction, had moved forward to tuck Jane’s arm into his. Darcy knew that he should follow his friend’s example and offer Elizabeth his arm. The road was rough and it would be the polite thin
g to do. But for the life of him he could not; so he put his hands behind his back and leant into the stiff breeze that was sending leaves and branches into motion around them.
“Shall we?” he said, motioning his head in the direction that Jane and Bingley had taken.
“Certainly,” she replied and for a minute or two they walked in silence.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, in what for her was a hesitant fashion. “I wonder, sir, if I may clear the air?”
Not knowing what could be coming, Darcy tensed. He nodded brusquely without looking up.
“There are two matters that I think must be mentioned. The first is the heartfelt thanks that I and my family owe you. You cared enough to put yourself out for people you did not know. There was no earthly reason for you to bring Lieutenant Wickham to justice and yet you put yourself to the considerable trouble and expense of finding the man. It may not seem so to you, sir, but you have done what no one else could. You have made us feel that there is some justice, some rationality in this world. My father and my uncle had tried to find him and we all felt their failure most acutely. It is true that his punishment will never bring Lydia back to us. However, for the first time since her death I do believe that my mother is coming to terms with her sorrow.”
Thankfully, since Darcy did not have full control of his countenance, she did not venture to look up at his face after having delivered this short speech. Instead, continuing to stare at her boots, she resumed speaking.
“The second matter rests upon the foundation of the first. Adding to your ordeal might seem an odd way to thank you for all you have done for us. However, my mother, who is so grateful to you, doesn’t see it that way. She thinks to do you the great favour of keeping you entertained during your time here. Unfortunately, she has an elevated idea of my conversational skills and sees me as the one in the family most suited to play the role of companion.”
She paused to lift her hand as a strong gust tugged at her gown and threatened to remove her bonnet.
“Sir, you will perhaps think it indelicate to be mentioning this matter at all; but considering all that has passed between us, I thought it prudent to reassure you that, in keeping you company, I am doing my mother’s bidding. You need not fear that I have designs upon you.”
She took a deep breath. “There! That’s done now,” she said, heaving a relieved sigh. She looked up with a bright, winning smile.
Darcy swallowed hard. “Miss Elizabeth. About the first matter, I hope you will believe me when I say that your family owes me nothing. Finding Wickham was never a difficult thing to accomplish. I just happen to know more about him, his usual haunts and companions, than anyone else. It was something that badly needed to be done. You would find it hard to credit the trail of destruction that just one man has left behind him.’
“He touched my own family and I stood back: believing that justice would find him sooner or later and all the time hoping that it need not be through my agency. But when I heard your sister’s story, it finally dawned on me that someone needed to care enough. Someone needed to dirty their hands and, as it happened, I was uniquely situated to do so. This exercise has taught me that society as a whole will suffer if individuals will not do their part in seeing to it that justice is served. No one can afford to be apathetic when the opportunity to right an obvious wrong falls into their hands.”
Darcy rolled his shoulders inside his coat. He was feeling better now, focusing on the topic and getting up a head of steam. “About the second matter,” he continued (feeling all the irony of what he was about to say) “you have no cause to worry on my behalf. I certainly would never suspect you of any inappropriate intentions towards myself. I think that I know your opinion all too well from our previous dealings.”
The ordeal over, they both inaudibly sighed with relief and dropped into silence for a minute until a gully in the surface of the road forced Elizabeth to wander closer to his shoulder. Unseen, he looked down fondly at the top of her bonnet.
“So, Miss Elizabeth, where are we off to this afternoon? Meryton, I presume?”
“That’s right. You are here a day earlier than expected. Jane and I were walking into town to see a display of potpourri sachets in Mrs. Wilson’s shop window: she is the local mantua-maker. Not very interesting for you men, I suppose. Even our interest lies not in the bags themselves but that they were made by the wife of our groom, John. Mary sewed and embroidered them, filling them with the potpourri that Jane and I make in our perfume distillery. She is clever with the needle and we are hoping that she may be able to establish a little business selling such embroidered trifles. It could bring some much needed money into that household and if she is successful, we will show her how to make the potpourri itself, which will put her on the road to complete independence.”
“Well,” said Darcy ponderously, meaning to be complimentary, “even amongst young ladies of breeding, distilling perfume essences as you and your sister have been doing is agreed to be an unexceptionable pastime.”
Elizabeth, as could have been predicted, took exception at this condescending remark, her eyes glinting gold under their lowered brows.
“And amongst those less well-bred too, as you will now be able to testify, sir. I take it that you mean to infer that our little expedition into commerce has received the great Darcy seal of approval as suitable amusement for young women who aspire to, but do not really qualify as ladies?” she asked caustically.
He had expressed himself poorly and for that he was sorry, but Darcy was strangely relieved to hear the hostility back in her voice. At least he knew how to deal with that.
“Ah! And there it is,” he said with some satisfaction. “If I didn’t before, I now know exactly where I am. In participating in these pleasantries with you, Miss Elizabeth, I was beginning to think that I had wandered from the path to Meryton and landed in Utopia.”
He paused to smile disarmingly before resuming. “Let us admit that the short display of goodwill that existed between us a few minutes ago was a shabby thing at best. It was unnatural and deserved to be ended immediately it had served its purpose.”
He adjusted his steps to the uneven cobblestone paving as they crossed the bridge into Meryton and continued in the same bantering tone: “For my part, we may continue to behave as honestly as we did before: I have become quite comfortable at engaging you at daggers drawn!”
The annoyance in Elizabeth’s eye was replaced by a twinkle of amusement. “Well, I suppose that I was rude just now, but you will admit that your remarks were, at the very least, clumsy and condescending. I had some provocation there, sir,” she retorted.
Darcy nodded. And each having acknowledged their part in the disagreement, smiled sheepishly at the other and turned their attention forward, meandering quietly but companionably behind Bingley and Jane as they moved towards the market square and the shops.
____________________________
“And so, Jane,” said her sister as they prepared for bed that evening. “Are you feeling a little more certain of your feelings towards Mr. Bingley? I thought that he looked positively blissful at tea.”
Jane pulled her nightgown over her head, hiding the sudden flush that coloured her face. “I followed your advice and I will admit to feeling so much better, Lizzy”
“You did? When did you do that? I had my eyes on you the whole time. I would have seen you sneak off… don’t tell me that you kissed the man on the open road?”
“You were not watching all the time,” Jane replied pertly. “You are, in fact, a very poor chaperone, Miss Lizzy. When we crossed to the lower fields, you were so involved in a discussion with Mr. Darcy that I saw my opportunity and stopped Charles on the other side of the hedgerow.”
“And?”
Jane bent her head and brushing the hair forward, covered her face before she said indistinctly, “Oh Lizzy, I am so lucky to have him. You really have no idea!” she said, emerging blushingly triumphant from under her mass of hair.
“I’m shocked! Could this be my straight-laced Jane talking? I see that I created a monster when I recommended that you surprise Mr. Bingley with a kiss. It has quite corrupted you and now I will have to be careful that you don’t anticipate your vows!” said Elizabeth, teasing her sister, but feeling just a little sad that she did not have her own Mr. Bingley to trap next to a hedgerow.
“Lizzy!” exclaimed a blushing Jane and there was silence for a moment as both of them considered the deeper implications of Jane’s marriage.
“I meant to ask you,” Jane said, hastily changing the subject. “What was so engrossing about Mr. Darcy’s conversation? I thought that you two did not get along.”
Thinking back to the walk and the strange contradictions in Darcy’s behavior, Lizzy didn’t answer straight away. She remembered feeling somewhat offended when he had shown reluctance to offer her his arm and then proceeded to put an unusually large distance between them as they were walking. It was almost as if she had some strange disease that he was scared of contracting. However, the further they had walked, the more informal his conversation had become until it was almost teasing in its nature.
When she thought back on this playfulness and contrasted it with the distance he maintained between them she became even more confused. Perhaps, despite her earlier attempts to put his mind at rest on the issue, he was fearful of appearing too familiar, of encouraging any sort of intimacy. It was a possible interpretation, but there were few people who perplexed her as much as Darcy did and having no ready answer, she put the thought aside and applied her mind to Jane’s question.
“Nor did we; but I think that we just may have established a small platform of understanding today. It is based on me fully understanding and accepting that Mr. Darcy is arrogant, prone to pomposity and condescension and Mr. Darcy understanding that I am quick to take offence and quite liable to be rude at the drop of a hat. Yes, I think that it is quite conceivable that - despite our initial reservations - we might just end up as dueling friends…though I’m not guaranteeing anything.”
The Golden Apples of the Sun Page 16