Darcy blinked in surprise, “I had no idea.”
“Well. We usually prefer not to talk about it.”
The two sat grimly in silence for some minutes. They sat comfortably on expensively upholstered seats, with a warm fire blazing, and surrounded by Darcy’s thousands of books. Yet something of the terror of a battlefield was present. Eventually Darcy broke the silence, “I must find some opportunity to speak to her of what you told me.”
His cousin nodded, “That likely would be best, it is an unsettling experience even if you know others who have gone through it. To go through it when you have no idea what it means; that must be really terrifying.” Colonel Fitzwilliam drained what was left of his glass and after a few minutes stood unsteadily, “It is time for me to sleep, but I do sincerely wish you the best of luck. You deserve it. And so I think does your lady.”
* * * * *
A few days after Colonel Fitzwilliam left for his parents’ house Darcy received a letter in Bingley’s scrawl. Half the letter was a combination of unimportant comments on Netherfield, and comments which Bingley thought were important on Jane’s angelic perfection; the other half was about Elizabeth.
Bingley wrote:
It seems to be my turn to provide information about the feelings of a lady which were conveyed to me by her sister. I am hardly sure I should intrude myself into your affairs the way that I asked you to intrude into mine. I know you are a private person, who wishes to make such decisions on your own without consulting the feelings of your friends. But my dear Jane thinks I should write this letter. She has told me about a conversation she had with her sister which made her quite sure that, while Lizzy will not say so directly, she hopes you ask again and will give a positive response if you do.
For my part I am not a man who can tell what a lady such as yours thinks. But when I do bring up your name she is certainly affected, and she speaks of you in the warmest terms. I daresay I’ve always thought highly of you Darcy, but she is a far stronger defender of your virtues than I. I would not dream to tell one such as you what to do, but I hope we shall one day be brothers.
C. Bingley
Darcy did not like that his affairs, and his rejection, had been widely discussed — but the content of the letter still left him elated. It was written in a far neater hand than Bingley generally used, and at least one line had been crossed out and corrected in a neat feminine hand. It seemed Miss Bennett had been rather directly involved in the letter’s composition.
Darcy needed to write a response. What he wrote would be passed on to Elizabeth, and if Jane was correct, and she did desire him to renew his proposals, she likely felt anxiety that he had been put off permanently. But — though he might like to, and gave the idea some thought, he did not feel he could renew his addresses by letter.
He had hurt Elizabeth with his first proposal, and could not bear to offer another unless he saw in her eyes that she was eager for him to do so. And, he was scared she would refuse him once more. He wished to keep some hope at least till he saw Elizabeth again.
The question sat with Darcy for several days, and he tore up several pages of paper as he attempted to find words to convey the exact message he wished. As he knew he must send something Darcy gave up his attempt to find the perfect words, and settled on a short paragraph which he placed at the bottom of a letter he immediately sent to Bingley:
Please tell Elizabeth her letter only increased my great esteem and affection for her. I eagerly look forward to seeing her, and hope for us both to be very happy when we speak next.
Darcy was not at all pleased with the message, and felt certain his intention — to state that he wished to offer for her again, but would not unless she appeared to wish it — would be completely lost when Bingley attempted to convey it.
Two weeks after posting his letter a response arrived from Bingley, which included the following:
I showed your last letter to Elizabeth. I judged your message to her might mean more (and be clearer) directly from your hand, rather than through the medium of my words. She colored very prettily, and smiled a great deal after she read it. She sat with your letter and thought for several minutes, and told me I must in my next letter to you say that she very much looked forward to seeing and speaking with you again, and wished to very warmly thank you for your kind message.
The message was as encouraging as one mediated through a letter from Bingley could be. And even more than he had after Bingley’s first letter Darcy felt for the next day and a half as if he floated on a cloud. He quickly penned a reply, in which he asked after Elizabeth’s well-being again, and included another small message for her. She replied in a like manner, again through Bingley, whose correspondence became rather more frequent than was his usual pattern over the next months.
So passed the end of the winter, and the start of spring. A fortnight before Bingley’s wedding Darcy set off to Netherfield, with a great deal of hope in his heart. He could not feel certain until he had heard his lady directly say yes to him, but there was good reason for hope.
The carriage ride from Pemberley to Netherfield seemed endless. Every mile marker left hundreds more to be crossed before he could see her. Georgiana chattered more than normal, and asked many questions about Hertfordshire and its society.
The second night of the trip, despite the inn having an excellent bed in its best suite, Darcy barely slept because his mind was too full of the thought that tomorrow he would be sure to see Elizabeth. His dreams were filled with her smiles and laughter, her light figure and bouncing curls.
They started very early the next morning. Darcy eagerly stared out the window for the entire trip as he sought landmarks: here the road to Meryton broke off from the road to London; here was the second to last market town before Meryton. Darcy exclaimed when he saw Oakham Mount in the distance, and the intensity of Darcy’s eagerness came to its highest point when the road took them past the fields of Longbourn. He could barely see the red bricks of the manor house and for a second wished to tap his cane on the roof of the carriage so he could exit and run to the house where his heart lived.
Darcy’s enthusiasm waned as the carriage now took him away from who he wished to be with. They pulled into Netherfield’s drive two hours after noon. Bingley was yet at Longbourn. He had left a note which informed them, upon decipherment, there was to be an assembly ball that night should Darcy and Georgiana wish to attend.
Georgiana was now sixteen, and this was not a big London affair, so Darcy felt no compunctions about allowing his sister to attend, and there was never any question that they wished to attend.
After a quick meal Darcy bathed and dressed with far more than his usual care. Bingley had returned from Longbourn upon hearing the Darcys had arrived, and finished dressing for the ball shortly after Darcy. He immediately joined Darcy, who sipped at his second glass of port to calm his nerves. Darcy’s pleasure at seeing his friend after a long absence was muted by his anxiety.
Bingley beamed as he clapped Darcy on the back, “My dear chap I am so terribly glad to see you here. We’ve all eagerly awaited you.” Bingley gave Darcy a knowing look and added, “I daresay the Longbourn party is very eager to see you.”
Darcy felt too nervous, and was too pleased by Bingley’s reassurance, to be properly annoyed by his presumption. Bingley had a definite air of enjoying Darcy’s uncertain manner. After a few minutes Georgiana came down, dressed in a pretty blue ball gown.
Bingley greeted her with a smile and deep bow, “Georgie you are looking more like a lady than ever.”
Georgiana replied with a curtsy, “I am much obliged for your compliment.” Then she giggled, “I’m very eager to meet your bride and her family.”
Bingley was the only one to speak during the carriage ride to the assembly hall. Both Darcy and Georgiana were too nervous to speak — though for different reasons. This would be Georgiana’s first ball not at Pemberley, and she thought she was likely to meet her future sister. Darcy’s mind linge
red on the last times he had seen Elizabeth — her eyes as she ran away from him, and her retreating form as he called to her the morning she handed him the letter.
Though Bingley took some delight in Darcy’s nervousness, he also attempted to relax his friend with a steady stream of the gossip from the surrounding countryside; Elizabeth’s name, of course, was liberally mixed in.
Miss Bingley had returned to London shortly after Darcy left. She did not want to watch Bingley’s happy courtship of Jane. Thus no one acted to ensure the Netherfield party was fashionably late, and Darcy arrived some twenty minutes before dancing began. He found a spot near the entry and stood next to Georgiana like a dour statue except when he looked hopefully towards the door every time there was the noise of a new party entering.
Bingley stood a few feet away and repeatedly flashed insolent grins at Darcy which showed him greatly amused by Darcy’s behavior. Darcy knew he was behaving like a lovesick fool, but that was no surprise since he was a lovesick fool. Endless minutes passed, and then more minutes passed and the first dance began. To pass the time Darcy tried to plan his words, and in what manner he should behave. How could he best show Elizabeth he still cared for her but wished to make no demands? She must feel at least as nervous as he. How might he calm and comfort her?
And five or ten minutes after the dance started she arrived.
The Bennet family tumbled through the entrance with Lydia eagerly coming in first, and then Kitty and Mrs. Bennet followed by Jane and her. For a moment Darcy could observe her form as Elizabeth looked first to her right and then towards the center of the room before she turned towards him. Their eyes caught and Darcy felt a jolt go through him.
Elizabeth’s lips were slightly parted and her eyes were wide; nervous light flutters ascended from the pit of Darcy’s stomach as, without breaking eye contact, she walked to him.
Chapter 14
The first weeks after Darcy left Elizabeth felt a mix of anxiety and longing. For the first month she had several nightmares about her marriage. She worried Darcy would never ask her again, and she worried he would. When she forced herself to imagine saying yes, Mr. Collins’s face would show itself. But Elizabeth refused to let him keep a hold over her life.
He had occupied a place in her mind unbeknownst to her, and wished to make a hell of heaven. But Elizabeth would not allow it. When she felt anxious, when she remembered the horrid things he had done, she forced herself to laugh at him and his memory. The thought he was dead and she was happy helped her laugh away the anxiety. And the thought that he would be appalled at how his wife had behaved since his death helped even more.
After a few weeks Elizabeth could think on Mr. Collins with tolerable good humor. It was past. He was past. In truth he had been a silly stupid man, though also a malicious and capable one. Elizabeth was glad he died, and felt a chill at the thought he might not have, and then dismissed him. He was not worth her attention.
Now that Elizabeth could imagine herself married to Darcy without also imagining Mr. Collins, she felt anxious for a different reason — would Darcy propose again? She was mostly sure she wished him to. It was clear Bingley and Jane thought it likely he would. And Elizabeth also, if she were honest with herself, thought that if she showed him she wanted him to he would. As Jane had said, Darcy was not a man who would propose marriage on a whim.
Then Bingley received a letter from him with a message to her. It was short and full of meaning. He said quite directly that he still cared for her. Elizabeth felt a bubble of happiness and relief on reading his words. And yet — her mind could not help but gnaw on what he said endlessly. He hoped they would be happy when they spoke again. He carefully did not say he would speak again. What was she supposed to make of that?
The easy interpretation, the one Elizabeth mostly held to, was that he wished to see for himself, when he saw her again, what she desired, and would only speak if she indicated she wanted him to. But — maybe it meant he only wished to return to their earlier friendship. Maybe it meant he thought she would never wish him to ask again, and therefore he would not. Maybe, whatever his sentiments were now, they would change over the next two months.
But to dwell on the question could only lead to anxiety and possible heartbreak. It was not part of her disposition to fret over matters which she could not affect. So Elizabeth resolved to think no more on it until Darcy was here again, and she could see for herself if his inclinations still turned towards her, and judge again where her own pointed.
Still Elizabeth lived for the near correspondence she carried on with Darcy. They could not speak too warmly or freely under the circumstances, but each time she read one of Darcy’s sweet restrained messages her insides warmed, and she smiled for a full half hour. And to not obsessively think on Darcy and the possible interpretations of his words was a resolve easier to make than to keep. Elizabeth did not while away endless hours in thought about her absent lover — she usually caught herself before ten minutes had passed — but she was forced to catch herself many a time.
Thoughts about a possible future with Mr. Darcy recurred: what would it be like to leave Longbourn? Elizabeth was sure Darcy would be amenable to spending a month or two each year — perhaps immediately before or after the London season — at Longbourn. She made a fragmentary plan on how she wished the settlement to be written. Perhaps, as Pemberley was much closer, they could visit the Lakes District in a year or two. Elizabeth began to set her local affairs in order; she even started inquiries for a new steward.
In this way Elizabeth passed the three months of Darcy’s absence, and though they seemed unusually long for three months they eventually passed.
The Bennet family and Mr. Bingley were all gathered in the sitting room at Longbourn when the news of Darcy’s arrival reached them. Elizabeth attempted to read a novel after lunch, but she found it difficult to focus. She smiled at how Bingley and Jane good-naturedly listened to Mrs. Bennet enthusiastically prattle on about some trivial matter of wedding preparations. Mary played the piano, while Kitty and Lydia argued over clothes for the evening. At this point the runner from Netherfield came: Darcy and his sister had arrived at Netherfield, two hours earlier than expected, and would attend the ball.
Elizabeth’s spirits were thrown into agitation at this absolutely positive intelligence that he had arrived and she would see him this very evening. Bingley immediately stood and left to greet his friend after fondly kissing Jane’s hand goodbye. The next hours were a blur and Elizabeth knew she very, very, much hoped he’d be unchanged in his feelings and desires.
She took far more care with her appearance than she ever had before, and was convinced she looked quite handsome. It was Lydia’s first ball as well, and with six ladies to prepare they took rather longer than Elizabeth wanted. She had started quite early, and hence finished her preparations before her sisters, but that only meant Elizabeth was left to pace the sitting room in her new ball gown, the first she had purchased in years, for more than half an hour.
The letters. Every letter Darcy asked after her, wished her well, and said how eager he was to see her again. Certainly he would not write so unless he intended to offer again. Certainly.
Elizabeth sourly thought they would arrive late when Kitty finally finished her preparations and came down. She impatiently hurried her sisters into the carriage, and on the ride Elizabeth eagerly waited for each turn in the road, and building along their path: she so hoped Darcy would already be there when they arrived.
Then they were there. Elizabeth glanced at the familiar façade of the building before she entered and hurriedly looked around to see him.
Their eyes caught; all besides his eyes and face faded out, and she walked to him.
At first they stood awkwardly; neither knew what to say, or how to speak. Darcy recovered faster, and stated, “I believe you have been well, at least that is what Bingley told me. I was glad to hear it.”
“I have been.” Then, with no clear sense of what she said E
lizabeth added, “It is Lydia’s first ball.”
“Oh. If she still has space on her card, I must ask her for a dance.” This reference to Elizabeth’s sister pushed Darcy’s mind to his own, and he turned to the tall girl who awkwardly stood next to him, “may I introduce my sister to you?”
After Elizabeth’s nod Darcy said, “Georgiana this is Elizabeth…. Elizabeth, my sister Georgiana Darcy.”
Once curtsies had been exchanged Elizabeth focused on Georgiana, with her high emotions, and mind full of their last meetings, it was easier by far to speak to the sister. “Your brother told me a great deal of you—all of it good of course.” The last added at the girls alarmed expression. With a quick glance at Darcy who watched them with a smile, Elizabeth added, “He is very proud of you.”
Georgiana appeared very shy, and it took her several seconds to force out her reply, “Fitzwilliam has told me much about you as well.”
“Has he now! Do tell me what horrid calumnies he’s made against me — I promise I shall not let him know that you have broken his confidence.”
Elizabeth darted another quick glance at Darcy as Georgiana struggled to reply, her tease did seem to have settled him into a good mood.
Georgiana gave her words too much weight, “oh, no. No everything he said about you was most kind and complementary.”
“Everything?” Elizabeth turned to Darcy, “And here I thought you always told the truth —” Elizabeth swallowed nervously before she continued without the laughter present before, “I know I have behaved most foolishly in your presence.”
Darcy’s eyes held hers and he replied softly, “Perhaps the lady misjudges her own character, for my part I have never seen anything which was not completely admirable in your behavior.”
Elizabeth was too affected to respond to such a statement, though his manner pleased her greatly. Darcy added with a straight face, “I believe you are aware that I am an excellent judge of character, and that I pride myself on always making correct judgments.”
Mr Darcy and Mr Collins's Widow Page 14