“I understand you are uneasy about the delay,” Aunt Gardiner said, “but Mr. Darcy is not here, and according to Mrs. Reynolds, he is not expected until tomorrow. Do you know remember her telling us so when we made application to tour the manor?”
“What if he comes a day early?”
“Elizabeth, I am beginning to think there is more to your acquaintance with Mr. Darcy than I have been told.”
Lizzy admitted as much and explained the reason for her apprehension. “When we were in Kent, Mr. Darcy and I quarreled.”
“A quarrel? May I inquire as to what the disagreement was about?”
“It was about Jane. In a conversation at Rosings Park with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin, the colonel told me that Mr. Darcy prided himself on the role he had played in separating Mr. Bingley from my sister. When I asked Mr. Darcy about it, he admitted as much.”
I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.
“Although Mr. Darcy’s interference in their relationship is unfortunate, that gentleman is not Mr. Bingley’s keeper.”
“He might as well be. Mr. Bingley will not go against him. I am convinced it was under the influence of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley’s sisters that Charles was persuaded to quit Netherfield. I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy wishes his sister to marry Mr. Bingley.”
“And who is your source?” When informed that it was Caroline Bingley, Aunt Gardiner tsked at her niece’s naiveté. “Miss Bingley may wish for Miss Darcy to marry her brother, but it will not happen.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because Mr. Bingley is not a gentleman.”
Lizzy went wide-eyed.
“Of course to you and me, Mr. Bingley is a gentleman, but from amongst the upper crust of English society, that is, Mr. Darcy’s peers, he is a parvenu. As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned, having Bingley as a friend is one thing, having him as a brother-in-law is quite another.”
“And who determines who is a gentleman and who is not?”
“Certainly not you or I.” Despite lingering prejudices, Aunt Gardiner admitted that things were changing amongst England’s upper crust. “Although members of the aristocracy own the land, they are cash poor and come to the merchants for loans. Believe me, I know of what I speak. It is to their benefit to acknowledge as gentlemen the people who are lending them money. Otherwise, it would be biting the hand that keeps the bailiff away, but there was a time when it fell to the third generation before a man would be viewed as being a gentleman.”
For Elizabeth, the changing tides in English society were evident in Mr. Darcy’s puzzling behavior. He befriends Charles Bingley, a man who may or may not be a gentleman, depending on one’s prejudices, but finds it necessary to point out the inferiority of the woman he wished to make his wife. I do not understand him at all. I wonder if he understands himself.
“Is it your opinion, Aunt, that Mr. Darcy may choose any woman as his wife as long as she is the daughter of a gentleman?”
“That is most definitely not my opinion. In choosing a wife, Mr. Darcy must take into consideration that his spouse is to be the mistress of a great estate. Just think of what is involved in the management of Pemberley.”
Aunt Gardiner’s list of responsibilities included overseeing household finances, hiring and management of staff, charitable exercises and expenditures, meeting with the local clergy, seeing to the care of ill family members and servants, hosting dinners, as well as planning balls and other social events. From the day of her arrival at Pemberley, all that would be expected of the mistress of the manor, and that was before any children were born.
Aunt Gardiner concluded by saying that it was of the greatest importance that Mr. Darcy choose well when choosing a wife. “Otherwise, he will be judged harshly by his peers. He may not feel the snub, but his wife most likely would.”
And yet Mr. Darcy asked me to be his wife. In doing so, he was declaring that he thought me capable of being the mistress of this great estate. I am truly humbled.
“Elizabeth, why do you look so troubled? All of this has nothing to do with you.”
Lizzy did not answer.
“Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”
After a prolonged silence, Lizzy admitted that there was. “Mr. Darcy and I also argued about Mr. Wickham. Aunt, I am embarrassed to admit it, but I was completely taken in by that man—and his lies.”
Omitting any reference to Miss Darcy’s near elopement with George Wickham, Lizzy acquainted her aunt with all that the Darcy family had done to advance the prospects of the young Wickham through education and by securing a living for him in the church, the law, or the military.
“Mr. Wickham chose the church only after he had spent the money that had been set aside for him by Old Mr. Darcy and the living given to another. When the son would not provide any additional funds, they parted—not as friends from childhood—but as enemies.”
“My goodness! That is quite the story. Do you know of anyone who can corroborate Mr. Darcy’s account?”
“Not for those particulars, but I now know that Mr. Wickham has incurred debts with every merchant in Meryton, none of whom has been paid. And then there is his fleeting engagement to Mary King, a young woman who is to inherit a considerable fortune. Upon learning of her engagement to Mr. Wickham, Mary’s guardian whisked his niece off to Liverpool to prevent the marriage.”
“These are serious charges, indeed.”
“I know that. Fortunately, because the militia has decamped for Brighton, the people of Meryton have seen the last of Mr. Wickham. Our concern should now be for the merchants of Brighton.”
Lizzy rose and went to the window—her mind filled with conflicting images of the man who owned the very room she was standing in. Through the rain, she could see blurs of color from the garden, creating a vivid canvas of pastels. Oh to have such a scene greet you each morning! It must be heaven. And the splashes of color lightened her mood considerably, and she turned her attention to her sleeping relation.
“If Uncle Gardiner remains in that position, he will not be able to move his neck when he awakes. If only it were possible to move to another room where he would be more comfortable.”
“That can be arranged,” a voice said upon entering the room.
Even before he came into view, Lizzy recognized Mr. Darcy’s rich baritone. “Mr. Darcy!” she exclaimed. “You are not in London.”
“I am most definitely not in London, Miss Elizabeth.”
“What… What’s this… What’s this about? Something about London?” Uncle Gardiner asked as he awakened from his nap.
Turning to Elizabeth, Darcy asked that she introduce him to her aunt and uncle. Startled by his arrival, Lizzy could hardly remember their names. After stammering an introduction, she apologized for intruding on his privacy.
“That is hardly the case, Miss Elizabeth. In this part of the house, you will be no bother to anyone,” he said, mimicking his aunt’s suggestion that Lizzy practice on the pianoforte in the housekeeper’s room. Addressing Mrs. Gardiner, he added, “That is a private joke between Miss Elizabeth and me. No offense is meant.”
Mrs. Gardiner seconded her niece’s apology for their presence in his breakfast room. “We were quite caught out by the rain and cannot return to Lambton until the storm moves on.”
“If you have an engagement this evening in Lambton, then I have bad news for you. I learned from my butler, who returned from Lambton an hour ago, that it is too dangerous to negotiate the bridge over the Wye. Your driver is currently in my kitchen enjoying some excellent leek soup. You will have a chance to sample it at supper.”
“At supper?” Lizzy asked.
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth. You will not be leaving Pemberley any time soon. For better or for worse, you are my guest.”
* * *
After relocating to the drawing
room, Darcy apologized for his appearance. “I have only just arrived from Derby. On our journey here, my manservant and I were overtaken by a storm, and we were drenched through. I hope that explanation accounts for my appearance,” he said, running his hand over his beard.
It was not Mr. Darcy’s stubble that caught Lizzy’s attention, but his eyes. There was a look of sadness in them that she had not seen before. When he had left Hunsford Parsonage, his eyes had been ablaze with anger. That fire had been extinguished to be replaced by something more somber.
“While you are here at Pemberley, I hope you will take advantage of the library. And there is a backgammon table and playing cards as well. If you need anything, you may ring for the servants. They are at your service.”
As one, they thanked him for his generosity and hospitality.
“If there is nothing I can do for you, I shall see you at 8:00 this evening for supper, if that is agreeable.”
Mrs. Gardiner indicated that it was.
“By that time, we will be better able to determine if you need to stay overnight, but I would plan on it. The storm shows no sign of easing.”
Lizzy exchanged looks with her aunt. She definitely did not want to further inconvenience Mr. Darcy.
“Miss Elizabeth, I can tell by your look that you think you are imposing. I can assure you that you are not. I have always enjoyed your company and look forward to a lively conversation at supper—perhaps on what constitutes an accomplished woman.”
Lizzy smiled. “You are kind in calling it a conversation. Some would refer to it as an argument.”
“Shall we agree on energetic debate?” he asked, returning her smile. “In the past, I have voiced opinions, only to have them taken apart, line by line, until there is nothing left to do but to step back and reconsider. However, it does not necessarily follow that my views—or wishes—have changed. It is a matter of looking at things differently and understanding that although another’s opinion may differ from my own, it still has value.”
Darcy turned to the Gardiners to explain their cryptic conversation. “Your niece and I once had a vigorous discussion about pride versus vanity. Prior to meeting Miss Elizabeth, I only looked upon pride as a virtue, but she pointed out that it could also be a weakness.”
“Who carried the argument?” Mrs. Gardiner asked.
“Your niece. I can hardly remember a discussion in which she did not.”
Mr. Gardiner joined the conversation with a laugh. “Mr. Darcy, I compliment you on your willingness to admit that a woman got the better of you, and it is possible that you have met your match. My brother-in-law is celebrated for his wit and intelligence, and Elizabeth is her father’s daughter. She gives as good as she gets.”
“Yes, I found that out the hard way—through personal experience.”
“Both of you are being overly generous in your praise,” an embarrassed Lizzy answered. “In your statements, there is the impression that being a wit is akin to being wise. However, you can be both witty and wrong.”
* * *
During supper, with the rain pounding on the windows, Lizzy’s hope for a quick end to her mortification at being found at Pemberley went unrealized. Uncle Gardiner, a practical man, had declared it an impossibility to return to Lambton and made numerous witty remarks about Noah and his ark.
The weather was also wreaking havoc with Mr. Darcy’s plans. Due to the ferocity of the storm, it would be necessary for Miss Darcy and the Bingley party to remain in Derby for at least one more day. Mr. Darcy, ever the perfect host, indicated that he was grateful to have the company.
After Mrs. Gardiner mentioned her idyllic childhood in Lambton, Darcy informed her of the improvements that had taken place in the village since her departure for the South.
“My father was very keen to have Lambton be seen as the gateway to the Peak. With that in mind, he added a clock tower to the assembly hall and provided loans to the merchants to improve their storefronts.”
According to the son, one of Old Mr. Darcy’s most ambitious projects was to relocate the potteries to the south of the village and away from the River Wye.
“I confess that I am rather particular when it comes to the water I drink. I prefer it not to have lead in it. Look what it did to Nero and Rome.”
“Then you had best not drink the water in London, sir,” Uncle Gardiner teased. “My advice is to stick to beer, and if you are ever at Longbourn, you should sample the Bennets’ spruce beer. It is excellent.”
“Do you have a hand in making the beer?” Darcy asked Elizabeth.
“I do, sir. I prefer it to wine.”
“Although I enjoy a good wine, I have a fondness for the spruce beer produced here on the estate, but if you see Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst, please do not tell them. They have declared it to be the beverage of the middling sort.”
“Take no offense, sir, but if I ever do see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst again, I shall mention it. In that way, they will pay less attention to my frocks—which lack lace—or my hats—which, I am told, are out of fashion.”
“I completely understand. For the longest time, I placed too much emphasis on fashion and status, but that has changed. I have come to the realization that it is the quality of the person that matters, not their apparel. There is nothing quite so engaging as a lively discussion with an intelligent person regardless of fashion or rank.”
“And to rank, you might add education,” Mr. Gardiner said. “Some of the best dressed people I have ever met in my life are incapable of doing the most basic sums, and when it comes to calculating interest, it is quite beyond them. And many of them are university men.”
Darcy laughed at Mr. Gardiner’s comments. “That is because you are under the assumption that these young men of fashion went to university for an education. For many, it has absolutely nothing to do with their studies. They could not conjugate a Latin verb under threat of their lives. They are much more interested in town than gown.”
Darcy thought of Wickham and the rumors that had reached him in his rooms at Cambridge: drinking, gambling, wenching. A poor return on the money his father had paid to have the son of his steward educated.
“Shall we go into the music room? Perhaps I can convince Miss Elizabeth to entertain us on the pianoforte.” Darcy explained that the instrument was a new acquisition in honor of his sister’s sixteenth birthday.
Lizzy, accompanied by her aunt, a fine alto, agreed to exhibit. As she thumbed through the music sheets, she noted that many of the pieces were quite beyond her talents. That Miss Darcy was a proficient on the pianoforte did not surprise her. As a daughter of privilege, she would have studied under the finest masters. But Mr. Darcy knows that I did not have such advantages. After choosing a familiar Scottish air, Lizzy began to play.
As he had done at Rosings, Mr. Darcy approached the instrument, but this time, there was a difference. Here in the comfort of his own home, he had nothing to say. Instead, his eyes said it all. Her rejection of his offer of marriage had changed him.
The remainder of the evening was spent playing cards, but when the clock chimed 11:00, the Gardiners confessed that they longed for their beds as it had been a very long day.
Darcy led Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner to a suite of rooms in the east wing, the newest part of the manor house. He explained that it had been started by his grandfather and completed by his father. “In the morning, if it stops raining, you will have an excellent view of the gardens.”
After leaving the Gardiners in the care of a servant, Darcy and Elizabeth walked down a long corridor to the west wing. Taking the candle from the servant, Darcy went into the room ahead of his guest and explained that it was his mother’s suite of rooms.
After viewing the portrait of Lady Anne Darcy in the portrait gallery, Lizzy was not surprised to find the suite decorated in delicate pastels and with frills and flounces everywhere. The pale blue wallpaper featured pink and white roses, and the canopy of the bed matched the wallpaper. In such an environ
ment, she could just imagine a young Fitzwilliam Darcy sitting on his mother’s knee.
“I am surprised that Miss Darcy has not taken this suite of rooms as her own.”
“I did offer it to her, but Georgiana declined. Actually, she was quite insistent that the only one who should make such a claim on these rooms would be my wife.”
“Yes, of course,” Lizzy whispered.
“Do you wish to have a maid sent up to assist you?”
Lizzy shook her head.
“Are you not tired?”
Lizzy admitted that she was not. “I find my mind unsettled. I am quite amazed at my own discomposure.”
“If you find you cannot sleep, I shall be in my study. I would enjoy the company.”
Lizzy went wide-eyed at the suggestion that she would visit a man alone in his study.
“I can see that my request surprises you, but would you not agree that there is a subject we need to discuss?”
Lizzy’s mouth went dry. “And what subject would that be?”
“The letter I wrote to you when I was at Rosings. It needs clarification.”
“Sir, I cannot…”
“I understand. Propriety and all that. Sleep well, Miss Elizabeth.”
* * *
Darcy was on his second glass of port when he saw the flickering of a candle. With all the servants settled in their rooms for the night, there was only one person who could be about.
“Come in, Elizabeth.”
After poking her head into the room, Lizzy saw Mr. Darcy sitting in a leather chair by the fire. As thunder rumbled across Pemberley’s roof, Darcy rose and gestured for Elizabeth to join him.
“I hope you do not mind that I called you Elizabeth. Considering that I once made you an offer of marriage, I thought it might be possible to dispense with formalities. You may call me William if you choose.”
Despite a marriage proposal, Lizzy knew that the gentleman must remain Mr. Darcy. Such familiarity was reserved for a husband or, at the very least, a betrothed. Looking about the room, she decided that Mr. Darcy’s lack of formality could be attributed to the half empty glass of port sitting on the table next to his chair.
Darcy and Elizabeth- Answered Prayers Page 3