In Essentials

In Essentials (Much As It Ever Was) by Vangie Chapter 1 THE MERYTON ASSEMBLY There was but one topic of conversation
in the Meryton assembly hall, and it was

the singular subject on which most personages in attendance had little or no
actual knowledge. Speculation regarding one Mr. Bingley, who had recently taken occupancy of Netherfield Hall, had r
un rampant since his arrival in the neighborhood. To date, he had been called up
on by a few of Meryton's prominent gentlemen and returned the courtesy, but th
e ladies of the town were left to lament that the husbands in question remained
incapable or unwilling to oblige their thirst for details regarding Mr. Bingley'
s family, fortune, bearing, or-most vexingly-appearance. Thus, the general feeli
ng in the ballroom was one of great anticipation, as the gentleman himself had
promised to attend the evening's festivities and thereby generously indulge all
Meryton's desire to see and judge him for themselves. Mr. Bennet, country gentleman and father to five unmar- ried daughters, four pre
tty to varying degrees and one quite plain, and husband to a wife determined to
marry them off with dispatch, anticipated this evening no less than the ladies o
f his estate, for it promised an end to their relentless interrogation. He knew
not what ladies supposed gentlemen to discuss during calls of neighborly court
esy, but from the constant inquiries of his wife and daughters over recent days,
he could only conclude that they imagined a far more intimate interview than a
brief discussion of local game and crops. How he should have ascertained the gen
tleman's at- titudes toward marriage, his habits of personal expenditure, or the
accomplishments of his sisters-or indeed, even how many ladies they numbered-Mr
. Bennet was at a loss to explain. So happy was he that his wife and daughters s
hould at last have their own opportunity to spy upon Mr. Bingley, he had been qu
ite content to stay at home for the evening and enjoy a few hours' peace in his
library. It was no sac- rifice to miss the evening's events, when he was certain
to suffer the reenactment in days to come. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the second eldest of Mr. Bennet's progeny and not the pla
in one, greeted her friend Miss Charlotte Lucas with a playful curtsy and knowin
g glance. The two young ladies laughed at the fever of gossip plagu- ing the assembly-not
because the addition of an eligible young gentleman to the neighborhood interest
ed them less than anyone else, but because they possessed the antidote of first-
hand information. Mr. Bingley had called on Charlotte's father, Sir William Lucas, only a day earl
ier, when Charlotte had the good fortune to be at home and make his acquaintance. She was therefore able to tell her
friend with certainty that Mr. Bingley had not five sisters, as was the rumor o
f the moment, but only two-one married and one not. Both were presently in res
idence with him at Netherfield, as well as Mr. Bingley's brother-in-law, a Mr. H
urst. Another friend of Mr. Bingley completed their party, but of this gentleman
Charlotte knew little. She could confirm, however, that Mr. Bingley's income wa
s close to 5,000 per annum, and while his fashionable dress displayed his wealth
, his pleasant manners marked him apart from the strutting peacock of Elizabeth'
s conjecture. So affable was Mr. Bingley that he had not only expressed his anticipation for
tonight's assembly, but had reserved Charlotte's hand for the first two dance
s. Thus, the entire room awaited Mr. Bingley's party with increasing impatience,
as only their arrival would signal the beginning of the evening's principal ent
ertainment, and, shortly thereafter, the dancing. The moment of Mr. Bingley's entrance was announced by a general hush, as the gen
tleman's name died on the lips of those in attendance a brief moment before it w
as loudly pronounced by Sir William in welcome. "Mr. Bingley!" Sir William attempted the deep and stately bow he normally reserv
ed for presentation at court, but the effort suffered a bit in the execution, pr
esumably from want of practice. "How good of you to join us for the evening's am
usement. Capital! You and your friends are welcome, indeed, sir!" Mr. Bingley and his companions returned polite, if rather less voluble, greeting
s, and all eyes were on the party as they made their way into the hall. Mr. Bing
ley, in the center, bore the general scrutiny well, his broad smile revealing a
prede- termination to be pleased with the event and available company. He was
flanked by his sisters. Elizabeth presumed the one on his arm to be Miss Bingley
. The other lady, a great deal shorter than both her siblings, was well-matched
with a squat gentleman whom Elizabeth determined to be Mr. Hurst. Both ladies we
re fashionably dressed and appeared smugly satisfied with their initial survey o
f the assembly, as it presented no one whose bearing or attire could compete wit
h their own for elegance. The third gentleman stood a bit apart from the rest of the party. He was tall an
d fine-featured, although his expression was quite inscrutable in its controll
ed composure. Elizabeth could not rid herself of the feeling that this gentlem
an was familiar to her, although she could not imagine in what circumstance they
might have become acquainted. As he walked past, their glances met for a brief
moment, and Elizabeth fancied she saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, as w
ell. The instant was over and the gentleman some distance away before she felt a
tugging at her elbow that jarred her from her reverie and reminded her to draw
breath. "Is he not quite handsome?" asked Charlotte. ?"I daresay he is," Elizabeth replied, a moment before realizing that Charlotte
most likely referred to Mr. Bingley and not his mysterious friend. The musicians seemed to recall the occupation for which they had been hired and
struck up a bit of light accom- paniment as a prelude to the dances. The cover o
f music provided the crowd an opportunity to resume its nattering, ladies rememb
ered to smile, and the event began once again to resemble a lively assembly rath
er than Sunday service. When the first chords of the minuet sounded, Mr. Bingley arrived to claim Charlo
tte's hand. Elizabeth was engaged by a Mr. Greene, the amiable eldest son of the
local physician and her one-time compatriot in all manner of childhood mischief
, and the two went down the dance with spirited conversation and much laughter. No sooner had Elizabeth curtsied to Mr. Greene in completion of the set than her
youngest sister, Lydia, was dragging her off to join their mother and sisters,
where Sir William stood poised to introduce Mr. Bingley.?"Mr. Bingley, may I introduce you
to Mrs. Bennet." Mr. Bingley made a gallant bow. "It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintan
ce, madam. I believe I have had the honor of meeting Mr. Bennet previously." "How good of you to remember, sir," Mrs. Bennet said with a curtsy. "And these a
re my daughters." She introduced them all in turn, beginning with Jane, the elde
st and the beauty of the family, and proceeding to Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and L
ydia in turn. Each girl murmured polite greetings and curtsied demurely. Mr. B
ingley flashed broad smiles at all before settling his gaze on Jane. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Jane blushed in the warmth of his cl
ear admiration, and no one in the group was the least bit surprised when Mr. Bin
gley applied for her hand in the next set and was graciously accepted. He led he
r off to join the dance just starting, and Elizabeth took delight in noting the
envious stares that followed the handsome pair from every corner of the hall. Sir William, well satisfied with the results of this exchange, looked about fo
r another matchmaking challenge and addressed Mr. Bingley's quiet friend, who ha
d witnessed the interchange from a distance of a few paces. "Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce you to one of our finest families." Mr. Darcy'
s dismay at this appeal was unmistakable, but whether it could be accounted to
the imposition upon his solitude or a sort of alarm at learning the ladies befo
re him constituted Meryton's finest, Elizabeth could not determine. Her mind was
otherwise occupied, for she was certain she had heard that name before but coul
d not recall the circumstance. "Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, allow me to present Mrs. Bennet of Long
bourn, and her daughters." Elizabeth could not retrieve the gasp of "Pemberley!" that escaped her lips, and
she curtsied deeply in an attempt to hide both her blunder and her resulting
blush. Unfortunately, even had Mr. Darcy himself been inclined 2to overlook her exclamation, Sir William was determined to pursue the topic. "Miss Eliza, I had quite forgotten! You have recently traveled to Derbyshire y
ourself. Did you have the opportunity to view Mr. Darcy's estate there?" Elizabeth sighed and met Mr. Darcy's cold stare, which seemed to juxtapose curio
sity and disdain in equal portions. "Yes, sir, I did visit Pemberley. My aunt and uncle were kind enough to include
me in their tour of the Peak District this summer past." "And how did you find Pemberley?" Elizabeth thought she detected a small degree
of warmth infiltrating Mr. Darcy's otherwise frosty manner. It was now clear to
her why she had thought his face familiar; the portrait hanging in his family ga
llery was a very true likeness, indeed. "It was quite lovely, sir." In truth, Elizabeth remembered that grand residence
as the highlight of her travels. Its natural splendor and simple elegance now re
presented to her the epitome of a beautiful estate. There seemed no advantage,
however, in making feeble attempts to articulate her impressions. Mr. Darcy was
no doubt accustomed to hearing Pemberley praised generously and disingenuously,
and Elizabeth's opinion could add nothing to his own appraisal of his home. U
nderstatement seemed the better part of flattery in this situation, but Mrs. Ben
net was never one for subtlety. "Oh, Lizzy, you are too droll!" Her mother seized with delight upon this opportu
nity to further conversation between yet another of her daughters and an unmar
ried gentleman of consequence. "Everyone knows how enraptured you were with Pe
mberley, of all places! Did you not judge it to be the most beautiful of all the
palaces and fine estates in the district? Why, Mr. Darcy, we heard of nothing b
ut Derbyshire for days after her return, so delighted was she with the place!" Elizabeth looked about in vain for a distraction to end her mother's effusion. S
he could not remember an assembly where Aunt Philips or Lady Lucas, or both, wer
e not per- manently affixed to her mother's company-yet where were they this eve
ning? Her own discomfort at Mrs. Bennet's fulsome adulation was mirrored on Mr.
Darcy's pale mien, and the giggles of Kitty and Lydia only heightened the hu- mi
liation. "Mama, please," she attempted in vain. "I am sure Mr. Darcy is well acquainted w
ith the fine attributes of his own estate." "What was it you said then, Lizzy?" her mother asked, oblivious to her daughter'
s increasing discomfort. "That you should be perfectly happy to spend all your d
ays in Derbyshire. Oh, but the highest of your compliments you always reserved f
or Pemberley! I distinctly recall hearing you say, child, that to be mistress of
Pemberley-that would be something!" "Excuse me." Mr. Darcy nodded curtly and turned on his heel to seek out the memb
ers of his own party. Elizabeth thought her mortification was complete, but Mrs. Bennet proved otherwise by loud
ly decrying Mr. Darcy's abrupt retreat. "Well, girls! If that is not the most ill-mannered gentleman I have ever met!"
She pronounced her censure for all the room to hear, and Elizabeth forcefully s
wiveled her mother to face the opposite direction. "Mama," she whispered, "Can you not see that your comments embarrassed Mr. Dar
cy?" "Embarrassed?" Mrs. Bennet continued in her raised voice. "Why ever should he be
embarrassed by compliments on his fine estate? He should count himself fortunat
e, to be destined to suffer flattery everywhere he goes! I know that I should no
t mind such a burden!" Elizabeth deposited her mother on a settee in the farthest corner of the hall an
d left her in Mary's keeping, determined to search out Charlotte immediately.
If she could not make her mother see reason, she at least must laugh at her expe
nse, and quickly, else her pride might never recover. To be thrown at Mr. Darcy as a would-be mistress of his estate-a suggestion he c
ould only receive as completely absurd-within a minute of their introduction!
The only con- solation was the knowledge that fortune was against their ever mee
ting again, moving as they did in social circles so thinly overlapped. So preoccupied was Elizabeth with spying Charlotte's yellow gown in the crowd, s
he failed to notice the wearer of a well-tailored dark-blue coat until she had n
early stum- bled into him. Fortunately, she caught herself just in time to avoid
a collision, and the tall gentleman whose back she now confronted so intimately
was engaged in conversation and did not notice. Her relief was temporary, howev
er, for the gentleman's conversation partner soon revealed him to be the last ma
n in the room she would wish to encounter. "Come, Darcy. I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this st
upid manner." Mr. Bingley's jovial tone was unmistakable, as was the somber timb
re emanating from the figure mere inches before her. "I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquai
nted with my partner." Elizabeth inched backward slowly, anxious to increase the
distance between herself and Mr. Darcy, but sufficiently interested in the gent
lemen's converse to remain within earshot. A girl of Lydia's age and evidently o
f similar temperament jostled her in an impatient attempt to pass, and Elizabeth
lost the thread of their conversation for some moments. She attuned her ears to
Mr. Darcy's voice in time to make him out as saying, "You are dancing with the
only handsome girl in the room." He could only speak of Jane, of course, and Elizabeth was gladdened to hear her
sister admired by not one, but two such gentlemen, and further delighted to hear
Mr. Bingley's response: "Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!"
Elizabeth moved slightly to the side to obtain a view of Mr. Bingley's face, an
d the honest admiration she read in his countenance thrilled her, for Jane's sake. She had not thought, howe
ver, that by taking Mr. Bingley in her own line of sight she would necessarily b
e placing herself in his, and the gentleman's next comment replaced all pleasure
with alarm. "There is one of her sisters just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say
very agreeable." "Which do you mean?" Mr. Darcy inquired, turning around and catching Elizabeth's
stunned glance immediately. His eyes widened as he drew breath to speak, and El
izabeth, in a moment of what she would later identify as genuine pan- ic, withdr
ew her gaze and fled the spot immediately. She was engaged for the next set and thereafter detained by Kitty and Maria Luca
s, who were energetically dispers- ing the news that a regiment of the militia w
as soon to settle in Meryton. Thus she managed to avoid Mr. Bingley and his part
y completely for the better part of the next hour, although she did notice Jane
in conversation with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst across the room. She began to r
e- lax a bit in her surroundings-a true mistake, as she made the unfortunate sli
p of entering the vicinity of Sir William and Mr. Darcy just as the first gentle
man was searching his rather limited imagination for a topic of conversation tha
t might engage the second. "What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing
like dancing after all. My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy,
you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desir- able partn
er. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you." Elizabeth's cheeks burned afresh as she suffered the grave stare of Mr. Darcy ye
t again. "Indeed, sir, I do not intend to dance any more this evening. I find my
self quite fatigued. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way to beg f
or a partner." She entreated Sir William with her speech, but Mr. Darcy with her
eyes, hoping he would somehow understand that despite all appearances to the
contrary, she held no more interest in dancing with him than he with her. Sir William, as ever, was not to be swayed by such slight insinuation. "Surely,
Miss Eliza, a lively young lady such as yourself cannot be fatigued so early in
the evening! You excel so much in the dance, that it is cruel to deny me the hap
piness of seeing you; and I would wager that Mr. Darcy is quite adept in the sci
ence himself, as it is one of the first refinements of polished society." Mr. Darcy once again fixed Elizabeth with an intense gaze and spoke in a tone th
at was as impersonal as it was proper. "Of course. Miss Bennet, would you do me
the honor?" Elizabeth had no wish to offend him, but neither did she wish to impose upon his
clear reluctance or suffer his scrutiny for a full half-hour. She pressed her
lips together and inhaled deeply before addressing Sir William. "Sir, surely Mr. Darcy would agree that polished society holds no monopoly on da
ncing. Even a child can dance. We 3need not impose upon Mr. Darcy to prove his refinement by engaging in such a pur
suit, and for my part, I am not inclined to dance further this evening. Dancing
or no, I fear Meryton society does not polish to its finest luster on this occas
ion." She boldly cast an apologetic smile in Mr. Darcy's direction, curtsied wit
h a lighter spirit than she felt, and sought a quiet corner to be alone with her
humiliation. With this exchange, Elizabeth's amusement for the evening was at an end. Havin
g refused Mr. Darcy's offer, she was now obliged to feign indisposition and danc
e with no one for the remainder of the assembly. And thus deprived of dancing, s
he had no means by which to prevent her mind from revisiting every detail of the
ir interactions. It was a history as utterly mortifying as it was brief. Her mot
her, Sir William, even his own friend-Mr. Darcy must feel himself the subject of a great
conspiracy to throw her into his path. What he must now think of her, after her
rather ungracious deferral of his courtesy, she shuddered to imagine.?Her embarrassment was not su
fficient however, to keep Elizabeth from surreptitiously tracking Mr. Darcy thro
ugh the hall. He spent the evening in similar solitude, only occasionally speaking
to one of his own party and thereby en- gendering much ill will among the good
people of Meryton. The general impression his behavior created was that of a gentleman too arrogant
to associate with country folk; but Elizabeth imagined that the proud set of hi
s jaw belied the unease with which he shifted his feet. Surely he could not avoi
d overhearing the presumptive remarks about his fortune and character now band
ied about the crowd, and she surmised that his silence displayed nothing so much
as a reluctance to fuel further speculation. Elizabeth recalled the remarks of his housekeeper at Pemberley, a generous woman
who held only the truest ap- probation of her master's character. Some people c
all him proud, she had owned, but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men. On
e could certainly never accuse Mr. Darcy of 'rattling away,' Elizabeth considere
d with amusement. If he spoke more than ten words for the remainder of the evening, she did not notice i
t; and rarely did her eyes leave his tall, noble figure. She was reminded of the
housekeeper's excellent opinion once again-I am sure I know none so handsome.
On more than one occasion, she discovered his solemn gaze locking with hers acr
oss the room, and she diverted her eyes quickly to study the ceiling or the seam
of her glove. Little could Elizabeth have known that her reluctance to dance had not injured h
er in his estimation. To the contrary, Mr. Darcy passed a great deal of the even
ing meditating on the pleasure of being followed by a pair of fine eyes, espe- c
ially those so happily situated within a pretty face and en- livened by intellig
ence. He found it all too easy to imagine spending many pleasant evenings not da
ncing with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Chapter 2 AT NETHERFIELD HALL EElizabeth was loath to leave her sister's bedside, but she knew she could not ex
cuse herself from all social obligation to her hosts. Someone must make a reputa
ble showing on behalf of the Bennet family, and as its singular example of gente
el breeding lay abed with fever, the duty fell to Elizabeth. She sighed wearily as she descended the grand staircase of Netherfield Hall, fee
ling her spirits sink lower with each step. No doubt she would one day find grea
t amusement in the sequence of events which precipitated this evening. Jane arri
ving for dinner on horseback in a rainstorm, then taking ill just as the fish co
urse was served; Elizabeth appearing on foot early the next morning, looking no
less ill than her sister for having traipsed through muddy fields; Miss Bingle
y forced to offer not one, but two Bennet sisters hospitality for an undetermine
d duration. On some future occasion, in some other drawing room, it would make a
n entertaining tale with which to regale her friends. And she was certain that n
othing would provoke greater laughter in the telling than a description of the e
xpressions that greeted her upon her presentation in the breakfast room. She rec
alled the confused countenance of Mr. Bingley, divided between utter joy at ho
using Jane under his roof and genuine distress at the illness to which he owed t
his good fortune; the slack- jawed disdain of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, who u
nwit- tingly displayed a family legacy of poor dentition as they eyed her muddie
d hem; the lascivious leer of Mr. Hurst as he appraised a shapely leg...of mutto
n. Even now, Elizabeth was tempted to laugh at the scene- until she recalled the fo
reboding expression on Mr. Darcy's face. The disapproval and suspicion she had r
ead in his countenance that morning now chastened her as she neared the drawin
g room. She resolved to speak only as propriety demanded, to politely decline
whatever amusement might be offered, and to generally make herself as invisible
as possible. Elizabeth was therefore relieved to find the entire party engaged at the card ta
ble. Miss Bingley followed a bland inquiry on her sister's condition with a cr
y of genuine dismay. The strength of the lady's emotion quite surprised Elizabeth until she realized
its basis to be the game of loo, rather than Jane's health. Miss Bingley entreat
ed her to join the group, but Elizabeth politely declined, declaring her intent
to read. She walked to a small table that held a collection of books. 4lizabeth smoothed a stray lock of hair from her sleeping sister's face. Jane's c
omplexion, normally as fair and even as her temperament, was mottled with fever;
her cheek distressingly warm to the touch. "Miss Bennet," called Mr. Bingley from the card table, "Allow me to offer you a
wider selection from my library. I only wish the books there numbered more, for your benefit and to my credit. As
few as I have, they are far more than I ever look into. Nonetheless, they are f
ree for your perusal." Elizabeth assured him that the books on the table before her would be sufficient
for her needs and selected one at ran- dom, hoping to retreat behind its cover
for the remainder of the evening. Unfortunately, the volume she had selected so
carelessly was an agricultural treatise which served little to distract her from
the continuing conversation. "It is astonishing," Miss Bingley declared, "that our father left such a small c
ollection of books. How fortunate you are, Mr. Darcy, to have such a delightful
library at Pemberley!" "It ought to be good," Mr. Darcy said. "It has been the work of many generations
." "What a shame, then, that Miss Eliza Bennet has cannot avail herself of its trea
sures this evening, as she is a great reader to the exclusion of all other amuse
ment. I assure you, Miss Eliza, the grandeur of Pemberley's library is un- match
ed anywhere in England. As are all the other features of that elegant estate." Mr. Darcy saved Miss Bingley the trouble of enumer- ating Pemberley's elegant fe
atures by interjecting, "Miss Bennet has seen Pemberley and its library for hers
elf, and is likely to have formed her own opinion of it." Miss Bingley looked at Elizabeth as though making her acquaintance for the first
time. "Is it so, Miss Bennet? You have seen Pemberley?" "Yes, briefly. I recently toured the Peak district with my aunt and uncle, and w
e visited many of Derbyshire's fine estates." Elizabeth, noting Mr. Darcy's stud
ied indifference, hoped to close the topic to further conversation, but Miss Bin
gley persisted. "Oh! Then you must share with us your impressions!" "You will excuse me, Miss Bingley, but the observations of a tourist can be of s
mall consequence in this room. I would not dare to place my own judgment alongsi
de the perspec- tive of one who has lodged there as a guest, much less of its pr
oprietor." The lady was undeterred. "Did you also visit Chatsworth? How did you find it in
comparison? I am certain I have not seen Pemberley's equal anywhere, for my own
tastes. I have often advised Charles that he should secure property in the neigh
borhood to build his own home and take Pemberley as his example. The severity of
Derbyshire's landscape, of course, may present some challenge. But with the bes
t ar- chitects and gardeners, any wild location may be tamed to present a deligh
tful prospect, I am sure." Elizabeth smiled at the idea of Miss Bingley attempting to smooth the Derbyshire
countryside as though it were a rumpled coverlet. She thought she noticed the c
orner of Mr. Darcy's mouth twitch slightly as well-whether in discomfort or en
joyment, she knew not. "I will happily agree, Miss Bingley, that to approach Pemberley's elegance throu
gh imitation would be a challenge indeed. For I am certain I have never seen a
place for which nature has done more, or where natural beauty has been so littl
e counteracted by awkward taste." At this, Mr. Darcy's expression was one of obvious amusement; a pleasure not a
t all in concert with his opponent's having laid the winning card. Their game at
an end, the players determined to break for coffee. Feeling the danger of remaining in company so determined to draw her out, with
nothing but a dry agricultural treatise to otherwise occupy her, Elizabeth as
ked Mr. Bingley if she might survey his library after all. She refused his kind
offer to let Miss Bingley guide her there, claiming some familiarity with Nether
field from her acquaintance with the hall's previous occupants. Indeed, she located the library with little difficulty and went directly to exam
ine its sparse collection. She sought an entertaining novel, or some well-loved
poems-any text sufficiently interesting to engage her eyes and still her tongue.
It was all too tempting, in the company of ladies like Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hu
rst, to allow prudence to trail some paces behind her wit. She was well aware th
at she and Jane's installment at Netherfield held all the appearance of a braz
en scheme to hold captive the attentions of wealthy gentlemen. The truth was non
e too far from the appearance, Elizabeth acknowledged ruefully. What she was pow
erless to alter in her mother's shameless behavior she must counteract by clos
ely governing her own conduct. A noise from the direction of the doorway startled her, and Elizabeth turned to
face Mr. Darcy as he entered the library with a slight bow. "Forgive me for alarming you, Miss Bennet." He stopped a few paces from her and
fixed her with a gaze of unsettling intensity. "But I realized that I had neglec
ted to inquire earlier after your sister's health. Pray, is she much improved?
"Elizabeth looked into the open hall behind him, anxious for how improper this
encounter must appear to any passers-by. She neither saw nor heard anyone, howev
er, and Mr. Darcy's measured tone and countenance reflected only polite concern. "I thank you, sir," she replied, at last remembering to curtsy. "She still suffe
rs a fever, but is resting comfortably." "I hope her illness will be of short duration. She is fortunate to have a devo
ted nurse in her sister. Certainly, your presence and care will speed her recove
ry." "Thank you. We are indebted to Miss Bingley's hospitality, but I also hope that
my sister may soon recover sufficiently to allow us to return to Longbourn. The
rest of our family will be equally eager to see her returned to health. Though J
ane's illness is not grave, no one who appreciates her gentle spirit can feel at
peace while she suffers." "Then your dedication is a credit to you both." Mr. Darcy bowed and turned to le
ave. 5"Surely, you must understand the situation." Elizabeth regretted the words the
instant they left her lips. She was left no choice but to explain them, however
, when the gentleman halted and faced her with a quizzical expression. "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy," she began haltingly, "I only meant-when we visited Pemb
erley this summer, your housekeeper informed us of Miss Darcy's recent illness.
May I be so bold, sir, as to return your kindness and inquire after your sister'
s health?" "I thank you for your concern, Miss Bennet. Her recovery is nearly complete, but
she remains in London for the time. I do not wish her to travel until she is re
stored to full health." Mr. Darcy's countenance softened measurably as he spoke of his sister, and Eliza
beth noted with appreciation how this warmth of brotherly affection enhanced his
noble features. It seemed some ember of Promethean fire still smoldered beneath
the stony visage of pride, she mused. Perhaps the inscrutable Mr. Darcy might p
rove human after all. She was once again reminded of Pemberley, and the unstinting praise of his hou
sekeeper as she deemed him the best of brothers. Whatever can give his sister an
y pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for
her. Such devotion, when bolstered by the advantage of unlimited means, must mak
e Miss Darcy a very contented young lady indeed. "Do you find something to interest you, Miss Bennet?" "Excuse me?"?"In Mr. Bingl
ey's collection." He indicated the sparsely populated shelves. "You see my friend speaks truthfully when he admits to neglec
ting his family library." "I have not yet had the opportunity to examine the titles closely," Elizabeth ad
mitted. "But I am certain I shall find something perfectly adequate to my tastes
." "Then I shall leave you to your choice."?Elizabeth lingered in the library longe
r than she ought, finding relief in solitude and comfort in the company of old books. It mattered
not that Mr. Bingley's haphazard collection offered little intellectual appeal
. She took pleasure in the simple act of turning heavy ivory pages and enjoyed t
he familiar feel of worn leather as it warmed in her palm. She embraced each fri
endly volume as a traveler abroad cleaves to any countryman. In the end, despair
ing of finding more scintillating fare, she selected a book of sermons in hopes
it would serve as a reminder to curb her speech in Miss Bingley's presence. Thus
armed with admonition, she returned to the drawing room. The party was once again assembled around the card table, and Elizabeth resumed
her place on the sofa. "And how does your sister fare, Mr. Darcy? Is she quite recovered from her illne
ss?" Miss Bingley's inquiry hung in the air for some moments. "Thank you, she is well."?Elizabeth cringed, sorely regretting her earlier conve
rsation with Mr. Darcy in the library. She had not considered the amount of insince
re fawning he must routinely suffer 6on the subject, from persons far better qualified to make such inquiries than sh
e. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Miss Bingley continued. "Oh! I am glad of it, for I take such delight in Miss Darcy. What a disappointme
nt it must have been for her, to take ill and miss traveling to Ramsgate this summer."?"Small disappointment, indeed, when
compared to the untimely passing of her companion."?"Oh, yes-her companion," said Mrs. Hurst. "I
would never have guessed her to be of such delicate constitution, to succumb so quickl
y. She always seemed rather coarse to me. What was her name? Mrs. Yorke? Mrs. Yo
unt?" "Mrs. Younge." Mr. Darcy rose from the table and went to pour himself a drink. "What a tragedy, indeed, for Miss Darcy's sake," Miss Bingley said. "Surely, she
must have been desolate without her. You were fortunate, Mr. Darcy, to find a s
uitable re- placement so quickly. I can only hope the poor dear finds comfort in
her music. To be sure, I have never known any lady so naturally talented as Mis
s Darcy, or so accomplished at a young age." Mr. Bingley gratefully seized this opportunity to turn the conversation from tal
k of illness and death. "Oh, yes, so very accomplished. I am continually amazed
by ladies' accomplishments. I have not met the lady who does not paint tables, o
r net purses, or engage in some equally clever pursuit." "Surely, Charles, you cannot equate such trivial skills with true accomplishment
." She applied to Mr. Darcy for support as he resumed his place at the table. "Indeed," he said, "the term 'accomplished' is applied far too liberally. I cann
ot boast of knowing more than a half-dozen women that are really accomplished."
He looked pointedly at Elizabeth, who immediately chastised herself for allowing
her eye to stray from the page before her. She knew she ought to remain silent
and return her attention to her book, but Mr. Darcy's stare seemed designed to e
licit a response. "Then you must comprehend a great deal in the idea of an accomplished woman." "Yes, I do." His purpose in continuing to hold her gaze was unfathomable, as was
the meaning behind the slight, but deliberate nod of his head. "Oh, certainly!" Miss Bingley cried. "No one can truly merit the distinction wit
hout a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern
languages. And to all this, she must add a certain something in her manner of ai
r and walking, and in her tone of voice, else the term will be but half-deserved
." "I wonder now at your knowing even a half-dozen such ladies! I am certain I ha
ve never met even one as you describe." If this impertinence could not deter Mr.
Darcy's continued attention, Elizabeth thought, the power to do so rested be- y
ond the realm of her own accomplishment. "Yet to all this, she must add something more substan- tial-the improvement of h
er mind by extensive reading." Mr. Darcy now made a more pronounced tilt of his head and focused his gaze towar
d the vicinity of her left elbow. Elizabeth followed his line of sight to the sm
all table beside her. On it lay three books she had not noticed earlier- Rasselas by Johnson, Shakepeare's As You Like It, and Blake's Songs of Innocence
. She took up the small volume of poetry and opened it gently to discover a book
plate inscribed "Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy" in an elegant hand. Elizabeth looked up sharply, but the gentleman had already returned his attent
ion to cards and could not receive any silent expression of gratitude she might
have managed. The measure of time Elizabeth deemed sufficient to satisfy courtesy passed qui
ckly now, as her mind was happily engaged by a book and the card-players likewis
e absorbed in their game. She took her leave to attend Jane, quitting the room i
n higher spirits than she had entered it. She congratulated herself on ending
the evening without damaging Mr. Bingley's opinion of Jane and having, however i
mprob- ably, elevated herself in Mr. Darcy's esteem to some degree. She hoped th
at his generosity with his books implied a more generous opinion of her characte
r. Perhaps he comprehended that her motives were not her mother's and would no
t look upon her again with the same suspicion. Elizabeth was halfway up the staircase when a draft reminded her she had forgo
tten her shawl. She ventured back toward the drawing room to retrieve it, but st
opped just short of the doorway when she heard her own name mentioned in conve
rsation. "Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to t
he other sex by undervaluing their own." Miss Bingley's unmistakable voice carri
ed out into the hallway. "It is a very mean art, in my opinion." Elizabeth laughed against the back of her hand. The loss of Miss Bingley's frien
dship caused her no pain. The same could not be said, however, for Mr. Darcy's r
eply: "Undoubtedly. There is meanness in all the arts young ladies employ for captivat
ion. Whatever bears an affinity to cunning is despicable." As a dismayed Elizabeth braved the drafty staircase without the benefit of her
shawl, Fitzwilliam Darcy felt the irony of his statement pricking his conscienc
e. Had he not con- descended to similar arts this evening, on two occasions? Fir
st, in soliciting a private conversation with Miss Bennet, and second, in contri
ving to place his personal property in her possession. While he felt such measur
es beneath his dignity, he found he could not regret their success. Of the three
books he had placed upon the side table, only two remained. He imagined Miss Be
nnet clutching his book in her hand, gathering it close to her body, and carryin
g it to her chambers. It was as if a small piece of him now traveled with her, a
nd he felt a curious mix of pleasure and trepida- tion at its surrender. "I Chapter 3 STILL AT NETHERFIELD HALL suspected I might find you here."?Once again, Mr. Darcy's furtive entrance to Netherfield's library took Elizabeth by surprise. Really, she thought, the gentleman ought to be made to wear a bell, so uncannily
feline was his surefooted silence. "Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I did not mean to startle you." A rather disingenuous
statement, Elizabeth judged. Mr. Darcy gave every appearance of enjoying her distress as she awkwardly rose to he
r feet, nearly tripping over her skirts in a mangled imitation of a curtsy. The
unruffled authority of his own posture in contrast argued against his having rec
ently entered the room. What did he mean by coming in all this state to frighten
her, for the second time in as many days? Elizabeth was not accustomed to feeli
ng so off-bal- ance, but she had been on shaky footing with Mr. Darcy since the
beginning of their acquaintance. "I came to inform you that your mother and sisters have arrived. They have been
shown to Miss Bennet's chambers already." "I see."?An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them, and Elizabeth found herself studying the pattern of the carpet with undue concen
tration. She felt him waiting to see if she would further the conversation; no d
oubt some sort of test to provoke more evidence of her artful cunning. Though re
luctant to satisfy his suspicions, Elizabeth could not ignore the small debt of
gratitude she owed him. With any good fortune, she and Jane would quit this hous
e today and leave behind any further opportunity to thank him properly. She came to her decision just as he seemed to reach the limit of his patience, a
nd her speech was therefore too rushed to admit any elegant affectation. "I do thank you, Mr. Darcy -- for telling me of my mother's arrival, of course
, but also for your generosity in lending me your books. I hope you will not min
d that I still have one in my chamber upstairs. I will be certain to return it t
o the drawing room before my sister and I leave Netherfield." "Please, do not trouble yourself. It is yours for as long as you wish. Do you en
joy Blake's poetry?" "Very much, sir." Once more, Mr. Darcy seemed perfectly content to let silence c
ontinue a conversation in his stead. Elizabeth felt certain he awaited her misst
ep, so searching was his gaze, but impertinence seemed the only alternative to w
ithering under his scrutiny. "It seems, however," she 7continued, "that the volume you lent me is missing its mate." She was rewarded with an expression that seemed part smirk and part smile, but b
y this point any rearrangement of his stern countenance was a welcome reprieve.
Elizabeth released her breath in a rather indecorous sigh of relief. "Yes, I do have the companion in my possession. You speak of Songs of Experience
, of course. Forgive me for not including it, but I did not think it an appropri
ate selection for well-bred young ladies." "Then I may shock you, Mr. Darcy, when I own that I have already read it." "Not at all."?Elizabeth bit her lip and felt her cheeks flush with color. Of course, no example of her ill breeding could possibly shock the immutable Mr.
Darcy. Certainly he could not mistake an impertinent country gentleman's daught
er for one of the half-dozen ladies truly worthy of his acquaintance. She was
sure she could not open her mouth without emitting a highly uncharitable reply,
so she forced her lips into a tight smile and took her leave as silently as he h
ad entered. If he was offended by her ill-mannered exit, at least he could not b
e shocked. Nothing could give her more happiness than to leave Netherfield that very mornin
g! She mounted the stairs at a fast clip, willing Jane to miraculous recovery wi
th every resounding footfall. Once removed from this house-and from Mr. Darcy's
presence-she would assign the whole experience to the confines of malleable me
mory and devise an assault of witty rejoinders to shrink him, in all his imposin
g height and inflated pride, to the size of a bothersome flea. 2IT WAS WITH GREAT consternation, then, that Elizabeth found herself seated acros
s from a very life-sized Mr. Darcy at dinner that evening. Despite her reasoned
arguments and desperate pleading, Mama would not hear of Jane being moved from
Netherfield. For though she was improved, she was not yet truly recovered, and
Mama expressed doubt that a week would be sufficient to restore her to full heal
th. A full week at Netherfield! The very thought cooled Elizabeth's soup. She would have gladly suffered a month's tenure in that house, however, if her m
other had only held her tongue. Mrs. Bennet's ridiculous declarations still clat
tered in Elizabeth's ears like cheap cutlery. Not to mention the incessant whis-
pering and plotting of her two youngest sisters; Lydia whee- dling Mr. Bingley
on his promise to host a ball while Kitty collapsed in girlish giggles. Yet they
at least had the good fortune to return to Longbourn, while Jane remained obliv
- ious to all upstairs. Only Elizabeth was forced to view the amused glances tha
t passed between Mrs. Hurst and Miss 8Bingley and endure the disapproving glare of Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley, to his cred
it, concerned himself only with Jane and seemed unwilling to brook the slightest
assault upon her character or family. Elizabeth hurried through her meal as qui
ckly as possible and excused herself to attend Jane. She rejoined the party in the drawing room some time later, fully intending to s
pend a perfunctory hour of quiet reading before retiring for the evening. Elizab
eth was therefore dismayed to learn that music was to be the entertain- ment,
at Mr. Darcy's particular request. Miss Bingley enjoined her to lead the way a
nd paused all of two seconds for Elizabeth's demure deferral before sweeping pas
t her to the pianoforte. Elizabeth busied herself studying the sheet music atop the instrument while Miss
Bingley and Mrs. Hurst forged their way through an impressive repertoire of Ita
lian and German art songs. She could not help but notice how often Mr. Darcy's e
yes were fixed on her; the strength of his gaze unsettled her more than she care
d to admit. Elizabeth was at a loss to comprehend why she should be the object o
f such intent examination. Had Mr. Darcy not had ample opportunity to satisfy hi
s suspicions of her character? She supposed him to be fascinated by the queer ju
xtaposition of Miss Bingley and herself. They must present to him a tableau of f
eminine extremes-the accomplished and the artful. Miss Bingley now launched into a pleasant Scottish air, and Mr. Darcy rose from
his seat to approach the pianoforte. She determined to maintain a cool demeano
r, but her quickening pulse betrayed her best efforts to remain calm as he drew
near to her. The look in his eye, which had so clearly seemed one of disapprobat
ion when endured from across the room, now danced with amusement-or perhaps wh
at flickered there was nothing more than reflected candlelight. "Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity
of dancing a reel?" If he had asked her to fetch tea from India, Elizabeth could not have been more
surprised. She felt herself the object of some sport and briefly considered a
conspiracy between him and Miss Bingley to embarrass her, but a quick glance t
oward the lady in question revealed her to be wholly absorbed in the instrument.
He could not possibly wish to dance with her at this moment, and in this settin
g-and indeed, she reflected, he had not actually asked her to dance. He had only
suggested that she must feel so inclined. "I know, Mr. Darcy, you wish me to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure o
f despising my taste. But while I was not clever enough this morning to thwart s
uch a scheme, I must warn you I am a quick study. I therefore tell you that I do
not want to dance a reel at all-and now despise me if you dare." "Indeed, I do not dare." He smiled at her then-a flash of humor so fleeting, it
barely gave her opportunity to confirm that Mr. Darcy did in fact possess teeth.
He attempted to regain his stern composure, but an egg once cracked cannot be mended, and Elizab
eth suddenly understood his strange behavior in a different light. A single man
in possession of a large fortune, universally the object of reverence from his i
nferiors, respect from his peers and obsequious fawning from ladies, must be in
want of teasing, and desperately so. Elizabeth surmised that she, being his equal in class yet so decidedly beneath h
im in circumstance, held a unique position among his general acquaintance. She c
ould speak freely to him, but could little affect him. As such, he was free to t
ake amusement from her ripostes without taking them to heart. She felt it was th
erefore no great compliment to her, to be singled out by Mr. Darcy to be his par
tner in a minuet of words. However, they were to inhabit the same house for some
days, and Elizabeth already felt her patience for forced smiles and false prais
e wearing thin. She returned Mr. Darcy's arch smile. In this particular circumst
ance, she found she was inclined to dance. 2THE FOLLOWING EVENING, JANE was well enough to join the party in the drawing roo
m. Mr. Bingley immediately saw her situated near the fire and, once assured of h
er comfort, engaged her in quiet, earnest conversation. Mr. Hurst was asleep;
Mrs. Hurst occupied in counting her bracelets; and when Miss Bingley asked Eliza
beth to join her for a turn about the room, she could think of no plausible excu
se not to do so. Elizabeth observed Mr. Darcy's sharp glance in her direction. F
or the first time, she recognized it not as censure, but as keen anticipation of
a diverting scene. "Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked as Miss Bingley linked arms w
ith her and began a slow circle of the room. "I shall not, for you can have but two motives for such an activity, and my join
ing you should interfere with either." The two ladies demanded an explanation of this cryptic comment, and Mr. Darcy re
adily obliged. "Either you have secrets to share in confidence, in which case I should only be
in your way; or you are cognizant that your figures appear to the best advantage
when walking, in which case I can admire you better from here." "Oh! Shocking!" Miss Bingley cried. "However shall we punish him for such a spee
ch?" "Why, tease him of course. You are his intimate acquaintance; you ought to kno
w how it is done." "Tease Mr. Darcy? Impossible. How does one begin to tease calmness of temper and
presence of mind? We shall end by being the object of our own joke, if we attem
pt it." "Why Miss Bingley, you suggest that Mr. Darcy is without flaws!" Elizabeth sai
d with a sly glance in Mr. Darcy's direction. Though holding a book, the gentlem
an was following their conversation as clearly as his eyes followed their figures. "Even the best and wisest of men have follies and whims that can
be exposed to diverting effect. Tell us how we may laugh at you, Mr. Darcy, or w
e shall be forced to apply to Mr. Bingley for assistance." "There is no need. I own my faults readily enough. My temper I cannot vouch for.
I might be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever." "Implacable resentment-that is a fault indeed, but one cannot laugh at it. You a
re no help whatsoever, Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley, we have no choice but to ask you
r brother." Mr. Bingley's conference with Jane was thus interrupted, as the ladies appealed
to him to reveal Mr. Darcy's more amusing faults. Mr. Bingley, like his sister,
seemed at a loss to recall any. "When writing letters, he studies too hard for w
ords of four syllables," he owned at length. "He is rather poor at whist," Mrs. Hurst opined from the sofa, having moved on f
rom her bracelets to a study of her rings. "Now there is a searing indictment," Elizabeth laughed. "Miss Bingley, I find I
am forced to agree with you. It seems a hopeless business to tease Mr. Darcy, wh
en his closest friends can offer nothing better than this, that he has greater facility with
the quill than with cards." She regarded the gentleman in question closely. She could not deny the pleasing
effect of arrogance on his features-the smug set of his jaw charmed his lips i
nto the curve of a smile even as it issued an unspoken challenge. "I shall not e
nvy him his perfect character, however. A man so complete in his own right can h
ave little use for the society of others. For what service are our faults, if no
t to draw us into one another's confidence and encourage affection? Mr. Darcy ma
y hug himself, but I will take delight in the comfort of family and friends." Elizabeth took a moment to savor the triumph of Mr. Darcy's stunned silence. She
cast her own proud smile, however, in the direction of Jane, whose countenance
radi- ated better health than it had for some days as she basked in the warmth o
f a roaring fire and the gentle attentiveness of Mr. Bingley. If the two were no
t in love already, Elizabeth thought, they were well on their way. Miss Bingley had tired of walking and conversation, it seemed, and suggested som
e musical diversion. Elizabeth magnanimously offered to turn pages for her. Mr.
Darcy again took up his book. The insufficient light made it impossible for El
izabeth to read the book's title from across the room, but the volume's size and
handsome binding un- mistakably matched the volume of poetry that remained in h
er own chamber upstairs. Mr. Darcy was reading Songs of Experience. 29THE NEXT MORNING, JANE felt greatly improved. The sisters shared a breakfast tra
y in Jane's chamber, and Elizabeth enjoyed watching her sister eat heartily for
the first time in days. The two agreed that they had imposed long enough on the
Bingleys' hospitality. Although Mama had denied them use of the carriage until T
uesday, it was determined that Elizabeth should apply to Mr. Bingley directly an
d request that he return them to Longbourn in his own carriage, today if pos
sible. Elizabeth made her way down to Mr. Bingley's study. She had resided at Netherfie
ld enough days to know his habit was to spend the greater part of his mornings t
here, in conference with his steward or attending to correspondence. She knocked
gently at the door and heard Mr. Bingley invite her to enter. She admitted he
rself into the room to find Mr. Bingley reclined behind his desk, idly twirling
a quill between his fingers as he gazed out the window. Mr. Darcy sat at a small
escritoire, industriously penning words of four syllables. "Good morning, Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth made a light curtsy as the gen
tlemen scrambled to their feet. "Miss Bennet! Forgive me, I was expecting my steward. Please, be seated." Mr. Bi
ngley indicated a silk-upholstered chair across from his desk, but Elizabeth pol
itely declined. "Forgive me for intruding. I shall not trouble you for much of your time. It is
only that I can happily report that my sister is feeling quite well this morning
." "I am glad to hear of it!" "Thank you, Mr. Bingley. As I was saying, she is nearly completely recovered now
, and as much as we appreciate your kind hospitality, Jane and I both feel we sh
ould impose upon it no longer. I came to inquire if it might be possible..." Before Elizabeth could finish her request, a loud commo- tion emanating from the
hallway drew the attention of all in the room. Three men burst through the door
, the two on either end dragging the third between them. The younger man in the
middle was attired in coarse garments that appeared to be freshly rent and str
eaked with mud. His hands were bound behind his back, but he did not struggle wi
th his captors. Elizabeth recognized the man on the left to be Mr. Bingley's ste
ward, Mr. Thorpe. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I have a matter that cannot wait for your attention
," said Mr. Thorpe. "Richards, the gamekeeper, discovered this brigand poaching
pheasants on Netherfield property before dawn this morning. The magistrate has
been sent for, of course, but this vermin has been quite vocal in requesting a
personal interview with you, sir." Elizabeth felt the impropriety of her presence at this scene, but the three men
blocked the only exit to the room. She settled for easing herself toward the sid
e of the room and remaining as quiet as possible. She felt sympathy for Mr. Bing
ley, who appeared clearly out of his depth. "Of course. Certainly... I mean, what is it he can wish to say?" ?0 The poacher seized the opportunity to speak, and began to plead his case with Mr
. Bingley. With great distress and inarticulate speech, he begged the gentleman
not to press charges, asking mercy for the sake of the family he had been attemp
ting to feed. As he spoke, his hair fell away from his features, and Elizabeth r
ecognized the man. She did not know his name, but she knew his face. She often s
aw his children playing in the lane near Meryton. Mr. Thorpe and the gamekeeper were obviously untouched by the poacher's increa
singly desperate plea, but Mr. Bingley, both generous by nature and inexperience
d in the business of managing an estate, was growing visibly uncomfortable with
the situation. "Darcy," he applied to his friend, "you must have far more experience with these
situations than I. What do you suggest?" "You have no choice but to press charges, Bingley. The offender himself owns to
his crime, and the magistrate has already been notified. To set him free without
punishment would set a dangerous precedent. Netherfield would be overrun with p
oachers within a fortnight." Mr. Thorpe and Richards attested to the soundness of Mr. Darcy's reasoning, and
Mr. Bingley was left with no option other than half-hearted compliance. The two
men started to drag their captive out the way they had entered, when Mr. Darcy a
ddressed the gamekeeper. "Mr. Richards, are you quite certain that this man was caught before dawn? I am
an early riser myself, and I noted that this morning was unusually dark. Perhaps
you were mistaken about the hour of his capture. I feel quite certain, and I am
sure Mr. Bingley would agree, that the man was apprehended in full daylight." The gamekeeper nodded. "As you wish, sir, if it meets with Mr. Bingley's approva
l." Mr. Bingley was clearly confused by this turn of conversation, but nodded his
assent. Elizabeth, however, understood exactly what had transpired. Her father h
ad once explained to her the absurdities of poaching penalties. A man caught poa
ching at night might be sentenced to years of hard labor; an offender apprehende
d in daytime would likely serve only a few months in the Meryton jail. Mr. Darcy
's gesture had spared the man's family years of suffering, and if neither the po
acher nor Mr. Bingley was aware of it, Elizabeth felt a swell of gratitude on th
eir behalf. The men quitted the room, and Mr. Darcy returned to his letter. Mr. Bingley apol
ogized profusely to Elizabeth for her having witnessed such a scene. She assured
him that she was quite unharmed and that he had acquitted himself admirably. "M
y reason in coming here, Mr. Bingley, was to ask if Jane and I might be transpor
ted back to Longbourn in your carriage-this afternoon, if possible." "Of course, you and Miss Bennet may have use of the carriage anytime you wish."
Mr. Bingley seemed relieved to once again entertain simpler demands on his gener
os- ity-carriages and the like. All the charity he had wished to bestow upon the poacher, he now seemed determined to transfer to Elizabeth an
d Jane, and he entreated her to consider staying until tomorrow. "Surely, Miss
Elizabeth, you would not risk a relapse of Miss Bennet's illness. Not now, when
she is so close to full recovery." Elizabeth could find no reason to refuse his generous offer, and plans were ma
de for her and Jane to return home the following day, after Sunday services. On the way back to her room, Elizabeth found herself greatly affected by Mr. Dar
cy's liberal, though understated, gesture toward the poacher. Once again, the wo
rds of his housekeeper haunted her as an oracle come to pass. He is the best lan
dlord and the best master that ever lived. There is not one of his tenants or se
rvants but what would give him a good name. Tenants, servants, stewards, friends -- was there no one who would give an ill r
eport of Mr. Darcy? Elizabeth almost wished that there were, for she was begin
ning to feel the consequence of paying him too much attention. If not for the va
st differences in their wealth and connections, she might all too easily fall pr
ey to romantic imaginings. She resolved to dispel any burgeoning attachment with
in her, or any appearance of such, by speaking to Mr. Darcy as little as possibl
e for the remainder of her stay at Netherfield. At one point that afternoon, she
found herself alone with him for a full half-hour, but she studiously kept to h
er book and maintained her silence. What a relief it would be to return to Longb
ourn at last! 2FOR HIS PART, DARCY did not take offense at Elizabeth's sudden reserve. Rather,
he passed the same half-hour admiring Miss Bennet's capacity for companionable
silence as much as he now esteemed her wit. As he watched her depart Netherfi
eld in Mr. Bingley's carriage the following day, he felt a deeper loss than that
of stimulating conversation. Darcy discovered he had simply grown accustomed to
her presence. Even when they were not in company together, he took pleasure in
knowing her fine eyes and quick mind to be somewhere nearby. Should the radius o
f her influence prove greater than the three miles' distance to Longbourn, he mi
ght truly be in some danger. Chapter 4 THE NETHERFIELD BALL Mof health. Preparations for the occasion had occupied the attention of all Lon
gbourn, and indeed most of Meryton, for over a fortnight. Anticipation of the ev
ent fostered such high spirits in the Bennet household that even the somber serm
on- izing of their houseguest, Mr. Collins, could not bring them low. In fact, t
his otherwise priggish rector, who was to in- herit Longbourn upon the unhappy b
ut inevitable event of Mr. Bennet's demise, appeared to anticipate the evening w
ith great pleasure. He had even secured Elizabeth's hand for the first set. Eliz
abeth was less than pleased to have been singled out from among her sisters for
this honor, but determined not to let Mr. Collins ruin her enjoyment of the even
ing. If dancing with her cousin was a necessary obligation, it seemed best to di
spense with it as early in the ball as possible and thereafter be at liberty to
devote her attention elsewhere. Elizabeth scanned the crowd as soon as she entered the drawing room of Netherfie
ld, searching through the throng of red-coated officers, skipping over the famil
iar faces of neighbors, and ignoring the amused expressions of Miss Bingley's fa
shionable London friends. "Are you looking for someone, Miss Bennet?" "Oh! No." Elizabeth's pulse quickened in alarm. How could she admit that she had
indeed been seeking a particular person when the gentleman inquiring was the
very object of her search? "I mean... That is to say... Good evening, Mr. Darcy." She hoped an especially g
raceful curtsy and the care she had taken with her appearance that evening might
mask the sudden defection of intelligent speech. Much as she had attempted to
convince herself otherwise, she could no longer deny that her high anticipation
of the ball could be chiefly accounted to the prospect of Mr. Darcy's company.
Since her stay at Netherfield, their meetings were few in number and trivial in
nature, affording no opportunity for conversation of consequence. And never ha
d Longbourn suffered a lack of intelligent conversation so acutely as it had sin
ce the arrival of Mr. Collins. Indeed, Elizabeth had been searching for Mr. Darcy, and to be sought out by him
so quickly upon her arrival both surprised and pleased her immeasurably. "If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss Bennet, might I have the honor of the fi
rst set?" r. Bingley was a gentleman true to his word, for he made good on his promise to
host a ball at Netherfield once Jane returned to the full bloom ?? "I regret, Mr. Darcy, that I am already engaged-by my cousin, Mr. Collins." Mr. Darcy smiled ruefully and emitted a low rumble which Elizabeth might have ta
ken for laughter, had she not known the gentleman to be incapable of such. She r
egarded him quizzically. "By my accounting, Miss Bennet, I have asked you to dance three times now and be
en uniformly refused on every occasion. Might I have the pleasure of knowing how
many times I must apply for your hand before being accepted?" Elizabeth gave him an arch smile as the orchestra struck up its tune and Mr. Col
lins approached to claim her. "It would appear, Mr. Darcy, at least once more." Mr. Collins' mode of dancing proved as affected and un- seemly as his manner of
speech, but the man appeared determined to demonstrate mastery of both occupat
ions at once by plying Elizabeth with insipid compliments throughout the set. Th
ese she ignored whenever possible, preferring instead to observe the graceful
motions of Mr. Bingley and Jane and the admiring glances that followed them from
every corner of the room. When the set ended, Elizabeth made quick work of dis- entangling herself from Mr
. Collins' attentions, only to find herself transferred from the company of one
ill-bred rela- tion to another. As she searched the room for Mr. Darcy's tall fi
gure, Lydia emerged from the crowd with two officers in tow. "Lizzy, you must dance with Wickham, for Kitty has been engaged by our disgustin
g cousin, poor girl! He was headed in my direction, I swear, but I always have b
een faster than Kitty by half!" Lydia giggled coyly on the arm of Lieutenant Denny, and the other officer bowed
and extended his hand in invitation to Elizabeth. Lieutenant Wickham cut a rathe
r dashing figure, with a smile as bright as the buttons on his regimen- tals,
and Elizabeth accepted gamely. Her own acquaintance with the man was slight and
largely informed by the effu- sive admiration of her younger sisters. Kitty and
Lydia had returned from a recent walk to Meryton full of nothing but praise for
the enchanting Mr. Wickham. Jane and Elizabeth had planned to accompany them that morning, but Mrs. Bennet h
ad insisted they remain behind. She had it on good authority from Lady Lucas' se
rvant come to barter for eggs that Mr. Bingley and his friend had just arrived a
t Lucas Lodge to call on Sir William. It was therefore a certainty, to Mrs. Be
nnet's mind, that he would visit Longbourn within the hour. In a rare coincidenc
e, both her information and logic proved sound. Kitty and Lydia returned to Lo
ngbourn just as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy were taking their leave, the former ha
ving called to personally extend his invitation to the Netherfield Ball. At the time, Lydia's impertinent insistence that Mr. Bingley also invite all the
officers had mortified Elizabeth, but now she enjoyed the envious stares of the
young ladies in attendance as she lined up opposite Mr. Wickham. She ?2 marveled at the uncanny ability of a handsome face to appear instantly familia
r; she was struck by the feeling that they had been introduced once long ago, al
though she knew it to be impossible. Elizabeth noted Mr. Darcy partnered with Miss Bingley at the opposite end of the
room, and she offered him a small smile when she caught his eye. He began to re
turn it, but all trace of pleasure fled his face when his glance fell on her par
tner. She looked at Mr. Wickham to discover his gaze similarly narrowed in Mr. D
arcy's direction. The animosity between the two was undeniable, their stares bro
ken only by the commencement of the dance. Mr. Wickham refreshed his smile quickly, although his mind was obviously occupie
d by what had just passed. "Has Mr. Darcy been long in this neighborhood?" he in
quired in a confidential tone. "He has resided at Netherfield as Mr. Bingley's guest this past month." "A month! All Meryton must claim an intimate acquaintance with him already." Elizabeth laughed wryly. "Most of Meryton would not lay claim to anything connec
ted with Mr. Darcy, I fear. His reserved manner has won him few friends in this
neighborhood; although I daresay he little mourns the loss." Wickham chuckled. "Ah, yes-the famous Darcy pride!" "Are you acquainted with his
family, then?"?"You may be surprised, Miss Bennet, given our cold greeting just now, but I have been connected with his family since infancy. My father
was steward to the late Mr. Darcy, and I was his godson. Old Mr. Darcy was part
icularly fond of me and wished me to take orders. In fact, before his death he b
equeathed me a valuable living on his estate." Elizabeth suddenly realized why Mr. Wickham's face was so familiar to her. She h
ad seen his likeness in minia- ture at Pemberley. The housekeeper had marked him
out as Mr. Darcy's particular favorite in boyhood, but what were her words? ...
He is now gone into the army, but I am afraid he has turned out very wild. "How come you, then, to be in the militia?" Elizabeth noted the gleam in her par
tner's eye with increasing wari- ness, but she kept her questioning purposefully
playful. "When the living became available, it was given to another." "How shocking! I cannot imagine Mr. Darcy, or any gentleman, doing his father'
s memory such an injustice." And I cannot imagine, she thought, how Mr. Wickham
should justify relating such a tale so early in their acquaintance! "What was
his reason?" Appearing to sense her suspicion, Mr. Wickham quickly altered his tone of intima
te disclosure. "For that, you shall have to apply to Mr. Darcy," he quipped blit
hely. Perhaps I shall do just that, Elizabeth thought to herself. For the rest of the
dance, they spoke only of matters as pleasant as they were insignificant. Mr. Wi
ckham inquired if she had traveled. She informed him of her recent trip to the Peak District, and he was only too happy to hear her impressions of his chil
dhood home. "How fortunate you are, Miss Bennet, to have the opportunity to travel! Much a
s I would like to do so myself, a man of my means cannot expect such pleasures." "But surely, your position in the militia must allow you to see a good deal of t
he country-though admittedly not at your leisure." Mr. Wickham smiled and winked brazenly. "It has brought me to this delightful pl
ace, has it not? I should be forever grateful to the Crown." Elizabeth could not help but laugh. Were these the type of charming comments tha
t so enchanted her sisters? Lydia and Kitty were greater fools than she had imag
ined. "There is a rumor," the officer continued, "that the regiment will summer at B
righton. So at long last, I may enjoy the bracing breezes of the sea. I had plan
ned a journey to Ramsgate this summer past, but circumstances necessitated its c
ancellation." "What a pity," Elizabeth remarked with no real sympathy. When the set ended, Mr. Wickham kissed her hand gallantly, allowing his lips t
o linger there a good deal longer than was proper. Very wild, indeed!-and with t
hese same lips he would fain make sermons! Elizabeth laughed heartily at this
absurdity the moment they parted ways. Her laughter was cut short, however, when Mr. Darcy appeared suddenly before h
er to request her hand in the next set. She agreed happily and was left to spend
the interval in some flutter of spirits. Charlotte spoke to her of matters sens
ible, but Elizabeth comprehended not a word. Her distraction made the minutes
stretch interminably, until Mr. Darcy at length returned to claim her hand. Elizabeth felt the amazed stares of her neighbors as she stood opposite Mr. Darc
y, but none unsettled her more than the stern glare of the gentleman himself. Th
e countenance that now confronted her displayed none of the amiable ease with wh
ich he had greeted her earlier. They passed several uncomfortable moments betwee
n the orchestra's introduc- tory chords and their first figure of the dance, and
she began to believe he intended to spend the entire half-hour in silence. Wh
en at length she ventured a casual remark and awaited a reply in vain, Elizabeth
's pride bristled. Teasing, teasing man! Why he should seek her company and pers
ist in engaging her as a partner only to revive the rigid hauteur of their early
acquaintance, she could not fathom. Nor did she intend to suffer the slight wor
dlessly. "It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and
you ought to remark in kind. Perhaps you have some observation on the room, or t
he number of couples." "Do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?" "In polite society, I believe that conversation is generally accepted to be as m
uch a part of the dance as the figures. Surely, those who prefer the company of
their own thoughts might do better to choose a solitary occupation and spare themselves the inconve
nience of a partner." The measure of unchecked bitterness in Elizabeth's tone su
rprised even her, but she could not regret its having the desired effect. Mr. Da
rcy looked a bit chastened. "Shall we talk of books, then?" "Oh, no-I cannot discuss books in a ballroom. With so many distractions and inte
rruptions, one cannot give litera- ture a fraction of the concentration that is
its due." "Then by your description, a successful conversant must be liberal with words ye
t miserly with meaning. To engage in such discourse would reflect no great credi
t on either of us, I imagine." "You mean, I suppose, that speaking is hardly worth your effort unless you can b
e assured of amazing the entire room. But if you find parsing pleasantries so de
meaning, Mr. Darcy, perhaps you might condescend, in this situation, to content
yourself with amazing an audience of one." "You presume, Miss Bennet, that it requires less effort to address an individual
than a large gathering." "Undoubtedly, when the individual in question is predisposed to listen." Eliza
beth knew her harsh tone belied any charity intended in the statement. She was t
herefore not surprised when Mr. Darcy relapsed into stubborn silence. Not surpri
sed, but exceedingly vexed. She scanned the ballroom for a pleasant diversion
from this unpleasant interview, and her eyes lit on Mr. Bingley and Jane, ensc
onced in a corner and exchanging sweet smiles. It must be some quality of inner
character that bound these men in friendship, Elizabeth thought, for their out
ward manners could not be more opposite. Where Mr. Bingley's very nature was to
please and be pleased, Mr. Darcy seemed determined to offend and take offense wh
erever he went. "Of course," she remarked, with a glance toward the happy couple, "there are tho
se lucky few possessed of such natural charm that they need not fear a cold rece
ption in any setting." Mr. Darcy's followed the direction of Elizabeth's gaze, but his own sight marked
not Jane and Mr. Bingley, but rather a group of officers standing nearby. "Yes,
I have noted that ladies are often predisposed to believe anything uttered by M
r. Wickham." "Mr. Wickham?" Was he the tack in Mr. Darcy's shoe that occasioned such an abrup
t transformation of demean- or? The rancor between the two must go even deeper t
han Mr. Wickham had implied. "I cannot deny he possesses certain qualities whi
ch typically attract young ladies. He is a great favorite already with my two yo
ungest sisters." "He is not the sort of man I would permit my own sister to keep company with,
I assure you. Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his m
aking friends. Whether he is capable of keeping them is another matter." "He seems to have lost your friendship." Mr. Darcy's silence affirmed her supp
osition, but could not satisfy her cu- ?3 riosity. "I remember hearing you say once, Mr. Darcy, that your resentment once
created is unappeasable. You are very cautious, then, as to its being created?" "I am."?Obviously, Mr. Darcy intended to offer no details on the subject. Much as Elizabeth desired to hear his version of events, she was forced
to admit that his discretion and grav- ity compared favorably to Mr. Wickham's
own behavior and bore credible witness to Mr. Darcy having the right of the matt
er. She resolved to let the topic rest, but found herself overruled. "Why do you ask these questions?"?"I am merely attempting to sketch your charact
er."?"And what is your success?"?"Surely, Mr. Darcy, a gentleman such as yoursel
f has sat for many portraits. You must know that a constantly shift- ing subject results i
n a poor likeness. I would get on much better, sir, if you would simply be at ea
se." The dance ended, and they glared at each other for some moments before acknowled
ging the rituals of courtesy that occupied other couples. "I assure you, Miss Bennet, I would by no means sus- pend any pleasure of yours.
" He escorted her from the floor, bowed briefly, and was gone. Elizabeth's disappointment in this turn of events only deepened as the evening w
ore on, and the raucous displays of her family added mortification to her melanc
holy. At dinner, her mother insisted on bragging loudly to Lady Lucas, and eve
ryone else within twenty paces, of Mr. Bingley's imminent proposal. Mary's dis
sonant display at the pianoforte was concluded only by her own father's impoliti
c dismissal. Kitty and Lydia capered about the hall with high spirits and higher
voices. And, of course, the irrepressible Mr. Collins would expound on any topi
c at the slightest provocation. This combined cacophony of the Longbourn party only increased with intake of f
ood and punch, and Mr. Darcy was witness to it all. Elizabeth took little pleasure in the remainder of the evening. Mr. Collins at
tached himself to her presence, and although he could not persuade her to danc
e with him again, he did succeed in preventing her from dancing with anyone else
.Of Mr. Darcy, she saw little. On one occasion, she imagined she perceived his
powerful stare on her, but caught only a fleeting glimpse of his figure as he qu
it the room. Elizabeth did not know whether to account his withdrawal of friends
hip to the presence of Mr. Wickham, the appalling behavior of her relations, o
r her own incivility, but in any case she could not blame him. An overwhelming s
ense of regret left little room within her for resentment. Her humiliation was to stretch the full length of the evening, for Mrs. Bennet
contrived a delay in the arrival of their carriages such that their party would
be last to depart. When Mr. Collins at last left her side to see about his own curricle, Elizabeth
drew her mother into a doorway apart ?4 from the group, hoping to minimize any parting effron- tery. "Oh, Lizzy! It is a happy thing for a mother, indeed, to see two of her daughter
s so soon to be married!" Mrs. Bennet lolled against the doorjamb, fanning herse
lf languidly. "Mama! I cannot imagine what you mean." Elizabeth lowered her voice, hoping in v
ain her mother might follow her example. "Do not play the fool with me, Lizzy. Everyone knows that Jane has Mr. Bingley a
ll but secured, and I have good reason to believe that you too may expect a prop
osal quite soon!" Elizabeth had suspected that this was Mr. Collins' motivation. How else to exp
lain his dogged attachment throughout the evening? The confirmation of her sus
picion, however, was the final indignity in an evening of trials. "Mama, I beg you to curtail your celebration. If Jane should become engaged to M
r. Bingley, it would give us all cause to rejoice, but the event is by no means
assured. For my own part, should the gentleman to whom you refer make an offer t
o me, I have not the slightest intention of accepting him." "Of course you shall! Think of your sisters! In accepting his proposal, you will
preserve their home and save us all from destitution." "Yes, but at what price? My sisters' respect, and my own happiness? Believe me,
Mama, when I say to you that I do not and could not love him, and I most certain
ly will never marry him." "Lizzy, do not be absurd! To be sure, he is not so charming or handsome as Mr.
Wickham, but do not be misled by foolish fancies, child. Longbourn's entail can
not be charmed away, any more than fine looks will fill your table." Elizabeth sighed in resignation. It was useless to argue with her mother further
, if she supposed Mr. Wickham to be the source of her reluctance. 2FROM HIS POSITION IN the now-darkened drawing room, Darcy watched Elizabeth and
her mother in silhouette. He could not make out Elizabeth's side of the conversa
tion, as she spoke in hushed tones, but Mrs. Bennet's statements echoed through
the empty room. Two daughters soon to be married! The London ton was rife with scheming mothers,
but this woman from Hertfordshire bested them all. Darcy berated himself for ig
noring all the obvious signs. From their first introduction at that miserable
assembly, he and Bingley had been marked men. On early acquaintance, the eldest
Bennet sisters had appeared the exception to their family's ill breeding-Miss Be
nnet, sweetly serene; Miss Elizabeth, delightfully arch. Neither displayed the c
oy, fawning manner typically assumed by fortune-hunters. After this evening, however, Darcy could no longer overlook their suspect moti
vations. Watching Miss Elizabeth smiling and laughing in open admiration of anot
her-that wastrel Wickham, no less!-he realized how he had mis- judged her behavi
or. Her dry witticisms, which he had once presumed an invitation to friendship,
had been truly designed to rebuff. And though Bingley's affection for Miss Ben
net was plainly writ upon his face, the lady's own countenance remained placid a
nd untouched. Now this overheard conversation sealed the painful, yet inescapabl
e conclusion-Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth followed not their own hearts, but t
he conniving aspirations of their mother and the demands of their impoverished s
ituation. Darcy would take no pleasure in recounting this conversation to Bingley, but r
elate it he must. They would do well to quit Hertfordshire immediately and leave
behind all mention of the name Bennet. Chapter 5 FOUR MONTHS LATER, AT ROSINGS PARK "C Elizabeth had not passed a single waking hour in Kent that she did not bless her
father. How grateful she was that the typically reclusive and indifferent Mr. B
ennet had seen fit one November morning to leave the sanctuary of his study, bra
ve the voluble wrath of her mother, and refuse to insist that she marry Mr. Coll
ins! Mrs. Bennet's grief over this development was increased some days later, wh
en Charlotte Lucas accepted the same offer Elizabeth had refused. She had wondered at Charlotte's determination to marry such a ridiculous man and
was initially reluctant to accept her invitation to visit Hunsford that spring.
Upon her arrival in Kent, however, Elizabeth saw how a lifetime as Sir William Lucas' daughter had prepared her friend well for the role of Mrs. Collin
s. She appeared happily settled in their parsonage, which, while not grand, offe
red rooms enough for husband and wife to comfortably pursue separate occupatio
ns. Charlotte seemed content, and for this Elizabeth was grateful. If the name of Mr. Collins' esteemed patroness tripped off his lips with frequen
cy in Hertfordshire, in Kent the rector seemed to think of little else than Lady
Catherine de Bourgh. Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their guests were invited regul
arly to Rosings, and either Lady Catherine or her daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh,
called at Hunsford daily. Elizabeth's own impressions of Lady Catherine had undergone a swift progressio
n from awe to amusement to te- dium. Her ladyship's intimate inquiries into ever
y aspect of Charlotte's housekeeping, her cottagers' affairs, and even Elizabeth
's level of accomplishment quickly lost their diverting novelty, as did Mr. Co
llins' toadying deference to her every whim. On this particular evening, however, Elizabeth did not resist the call to Rosing
s, for an addition to their small society was promised. Her ladyship's nephews
were known to have arrived for their annual Easter visit-and who should be amon
g them, but Mr. Darcy! Elizabeth looked forward to the evening with great anticipation. Little had oc
curred in her fortnight at Hunsford that could be categorized as remotely stimul
ating, but her spirits were roused at the prospect of renewing Mr. Darcy's acqua
intance. She knew that the meeting might prove awkward. She had not met with t
he gentleman in four months' ousin Eliza! Maria! My dear Charlotte, make haste! Lady Catherine awaits us at Rosings!" Mr. Collins wiped his brow in agitation. ?5 time -- since the evening of the Netherfield Ball -- and they had not parted in
the spirit of amiability she would have wished. All Meryton had been shocked when Mr. Bingley and his party left Netherfield so
abruptly. The reason cited by Miss Bingley in her parting letter, namely Mr. Dar
cy's wish to see his sister, was easily understood. He had been parted from he
r for long weeks of her convalescence, and certainly he must be quite ill hims
elf with concern. Much as Elizabeth lamented his hasty departure, she could not
fault it. Her only regret was having no opportunity to redeem her family's unsee
mly behavior at the ball. In retrospect, she hoped that Mr. Darcy's preoccupatio
n with his sister's well- being might have been the source of his distant manner
that evening, but she could not convince herself it was so. Shortly after Christmas, Jane had gone to London to stay with their Aunt and Unc
le Gardiner, and it was hoped she might resume her acquaintance with Mr. Bingley
while in town. But if concern for Miss Darcy excused the party's rapid removal
from Hertfordshire, it could not explain Miss Bingley's cold reception of Jane w
hen she called at the Bingley residence, or the lady's obvious wish to sever all
connection between them. Jane wondered at Miss Bingley's conduct, but Elizabeth
saw clearly the heart of the matter. Miss Bingley knew her brother to be in lov
e with Jane and did not approve of his choice. Her interference was cruel and un
just, but there was nothing more Jane could do to alert Mr. Bingley to her prese
nce in town. As they approached the grand faade of Rosings, Elizabeth felt a pang of sorrow fo
r her sister. Jane's letters always presented a cheerful face, but she knew ho
w her sister must suffer. Her attachment to Mr. Bingley had not been slight or
easily forgotten. Elizabeth's own thoughts had traveled to Mr. Darcy more often
than she cared to admit, and this on the basis of erstwhile friendship alone. H
ow much greater was Jane's preoccupation, with the force of love to multiply her
distress? Upon their introduction to the drawing room, Elizabeth's eyes sought out Mr. Dar
cy immediately, only to discover him fixing her with his own steady gaze. Elizab
eth curtsied to Mr. Darcy's stiff bow, anxious to gauge whether his stern disa
pproval at their last meeting had softened or solidified with the passage of tim
e. She attempted a smile, but he looked away without acknowledging the gesture.
It seemed she had her answer. Humbled, Elizabeth quickly transferred her attenti
on to his cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked a few years older than Mr. Darcy, a
nd though not nearly so handsome, he fortunately displayed a more con- genial ma
nner. Lady Catherine announced her desire for cards, and two tables were set up. Her l
adyship enjoined Mr. and Mrs. Collins to take places at her table, an honor whic
h Mr. Collins could never decline. Elizabeth suspected that his sterling company
had less to do with this condescension than the fact that Mr. Collins nearly al
ways lost. ?6 Mr. Darcy moved to make up the fourth, but Lady Catherine would have her other n
ephew instead. She seemed particularly anxious that Mr. Darcy should be partnere
d with her daughter, and Elizabeth and Maria Lucas were to complete the foursome
.At the other table Mr. Collins kept up a steady flow of congratulatory remarks a
nd apologized profusely for his every stroke of luck, but theirs was the stupi
dest assembly of card players ever seen. Barely a word was spoken between the fo
ur that did not concern the game at hand. Miss de Bourgh was interrupted often b
y her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, who could not last five minutes without inquir-
ing as to her lady's comfort, with regard to the temperature of the room or her
desire for tea or refreshment. Maria was clearly too awed by her company to ven
ture any sort of remark. Mr. Darcy's taciturn bent limited his contribution to
severe glances in Elizabeth's direction, and to these she could imagine no civi
l reply. At length, she decided they must have some conversation, if only to drown out th
e effusions of her cousin. "I hope your sister is well, Mr. Darcy."?"Thank you, she is."?"We were quite con
cerned when you quitted Netherfield so suddenly last November. We feared some turn for the worse in her condition." "I am sorry to have occasioned you any concern in that regard. My sister is now
quite well." "My own sister, Jane, has been in London these past three months. Have you never
happened to see her there?" She watched his reaction carefully, to see if he wo
uld betray any knowledge of what had passed between Jane and Miss Bingley. He ap
peared only mildly surprised at her question, however. "No, I have not had that pleasure." "Miss Bennet!" Lady Catherine called from the next table. For a lady of advanced
age, her faculty of hearing remained remarkably sharp. "Am I to understand that
your eldest sister is also from home?" "Yes, madam. She has gone to stay with my aunt and uncle in London." "How singular! I am astonished that your mother can spare you both at once, and
for such a long duration." "I assure you, Lady Catherine, my mother can spare us readily. She quite encoura
ges our travels." "Undoubtedly," Mr. Darcy said, his low voice edged with sarcasm. Offended by his discernable scorn, Elizabeth returned her attention to her cards
. She found herself once again replay- ing the events of the Netherfield Ball in
her mind, trying to understand where his warm welcome had transformed into cool
dismissal. The presence of Mr. Wickham had clearly set him on edge, but Mr. Wic
kham was not here this evening. If worry for his sister had played any part, b
y his own admission it was no longer a concern. No, Elizabeth reasoned, the or
igin of his persistent disapprobation must lie in the appalling behavior of her family. She recalled Kitty and Lydia's antics,
her mother's crowing over Mr. Bingley, Mary's woeful exhibition, and worst, her
own incivility. The only likely conclusion was that he had found the impropri- e
ty so offensive that simply sitting to cards with her now seemed an odious trial
.Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy to possess all the pride that properly accompanied his
position and wealth, but she had not thought it so tainted with arrogance and co
nceit. She recalled his obvious affection for his sister, his discreet handling
of the poacher at Netherfield, his generosity in lending her his books. How to r
econcile these observations, and the regard in which he was so uniformly held by
all of his close acquaintance, with his clear intent to snub any friendly overt
ure? The gentleman was an enigma to her, and Elizabeth should have liked to abandon a
ll attempts to puzzle him out. But if he pervaded her thoughts from the safe dis
tance of London, how could she close her mind to his influence when seated at hi
s elbow? If she could somehow ignore the sight of his long, sculpted fingers res
ting on the table bare inches from her own, she could not forget the sensation o
f their strong grasp around hers as they danced, any more than she could prevent
the deep timbre of his voice from interrupting her thoughts. "I thought you preferred reading to cards, Miss Bennet. Yet this evening you see
m to make an exception." He spoke in a low voice, so as to limit the conversatio
n to their small circle. His tone was not intimate, however, but accusatory. Though she found him
increasingly perplexing, Mr. Darcy seemed quite confident in his ill opinion of
her. It wounded her pride to be judged so meanly, even if she must allow him some justification for holding her in low esteem.?"I take pleasure in a grea
t many things, Mr. Darcy, reading and cards among them, as well as several oth
er amuse- ments which, given our limited acquaintance, you may not have had the opportunit
y to observe. I might just as easily conclude that you divide your time equally
between writing letters and casting disapproving glares-but I would not presum
e my knowledge of your character to be so complete." "How generous of you. But certainly, your opportunities to sketch my character h
ave not been as limited as you suggest." "Perhaps not," Elizabeth allowed as she laid a high card and claimed her victory
. "I do recall learning from Mrs. Hurst that you are rather poor at whist." Lady Catherine, obviously annoyed by her inability to make out the conversation,
declared an end to card-playing for the evening. Mr. Darcy retreated to a cor
ner of the drawing room, and Elizabeth was engaged in conversation by the very a
miable Colonel Fitzwilliam. What a relief it was to talk and laugh openly with t
his pleasant gentleman, even under the cold scrutiny of his cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam asked Elizabeth to play for him at the pianoforte, offering
to select the music and turn pages for her, and she was of no mind to refuse. Her performance was by no means maste
rful, but what it lacked in technique was more than compensated by the lively sp
irit with which she played, and Colonel Fitzwilliam expressed his appreciation
warmly. He selected another piece, and as her fingers picked out the opening st
rains, Mr. Darcy rose from his chair and approached the pianoforte with delibera
tion. "Do you mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me p
lay? You are welcome, sir, for now I may account my every mistake to your intimi
dating presence and need not own to my deficiency of practice." "I believe I am acquainted with your character well enough, Miss Bennet, to know
any attempt to intimidate you would be in vain. At most, I might provoke you to
profess opinions not your own-in that arena, your accomplishment suffers no d
eficiency." Elizabeth was cut deeply by his words. Was it not enough for him to spurn her co
mpany? Must he make a point of pursuing her with his censure? She attempted to r
ecover her composure with a nervous laugh. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, your cousin wou
ld teach you not to believe a word I say. He expects me to retaliate, I suppose,
with some disparaging remark on his behavior." "Pray tell what you have to accuse him of," said Colonel Fitzwilliam eagerly. "I
should like to know how he behaves among strangers." "I am sorry to disappoint you, but there I cannot oblige. Any reproach of Mr. Da
rcy's conduct in Hertfordshire should only satisfy his notions of my own insince
rity. For I cannot claim to have witnessed anything but the strictest propriety from his quarter."?Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "Strict propriety! Tha
tsounds like Darcy."?"Is he always so serious, then?" With relief, Elizabeth ced- ed responsibility for continuing the conversation to Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr. Da
rcy, however, looked rather uncomfortable with this change in topic. "Oh, yes - even when we were boys. My brother and I used to amuse ourselves in c
hurch by attempting to make him laugh. One Sunday, I brought a snake in my pocke
t and dangled it above our aunt's head during the Lord's Prayer." "And did he laugh?" The gentleman in question looked little amused at the moment
."No, indeed. He took the snake away from me and made such a fuss that our uncle
caught us-or I should say he caught Darcy, for by then the creature was in his p
ossession. My good cousin took both the blame and the thrashing for the whole af
fair." "I wonder that you have not suffered his implacable resentment ever since," sh
e teased lightly. "I might have at that, had dear cousin Anne not revealed the truth of the matter
. As it was, Darcy could hardly resent me, for I received two thrashings to his
one-the first for the snake, and the second for shirking the blame! But so it st
ill is with Darcy-he always takes prodigious care of his ?7 friends, even if he would serve them better by letting them take their lumps." "Mr. Darcy is all generosity, it would seem." Elizabeth recalled the fond word
s of his housekeeper at Pemberley: They who are good-natured when children, are
good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most ge
nerous-hearted boy in the world. If only he would see fit to extend the same gen
erosity to her! She looked pointedly at him. "How fortunate you are, Mr. Darcy, to possess so fe
w faults of your own that you would readily take up the burden of others' offens
es! I am sure I could not be so kind. I must warn you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, to a
ttempt no such pranks at my expense, for I have sins enough of my own without as
suming the guilt of family or friends." Mr. Darcy looked as though he would speak, but at that moment, Lady Catherine in
terrupted by imperiously demanding Colonel Fitzwilliam to attend her at once.
The gentleman rose from his seat beside Elizabeth with a rueful smile. "I find m
yself in complete accord, Miss Bennet. It would be exceedingly cruel to be made
to answer for all my relations' behavior." With an apologetic glance indicating
his formidable aunt, he left Elizabeth alone in the company of Mr. Darcy. Unable to find her place in the music, she began the piece again from the introd
uction. She could not fault Colonel Fitzwilliam's musical taste, but the piece o
f his choosing exceeded Elizabeth's skill, and Mr. Darcy's watchful presence d
id little to aid her execution. She struggled through only a few measures before
Mr. Darcy broke his silence. "I will not deny that I feel an obligation to guard the in- terests of those clo
se to me. But surely, you have met with some who would not call me generous." Elizabeth had no doubt that he referred to Mr. Wickham. Considering how she had
fared when last attempting to discuss that man's history, she had no desire to
broach the subject again. A quick retreat seemed in order, and she adopted an
innocent smile. "To the contrary, Mr. Darcy, I hear such unvarying reports of you as to satisf
y me entirely. Your own cousin has just related such a tale of intrepidity-wrang
ling serpents in a house of God, no less! Why, children must sing your exploits
in the lanes of Derbyshire. Indeed, I dare not dis- pute such illustrious charit
y, and I beg you not to feel obli- gated to prove it by extending any to me." Elizabeth launched into a lively air from memory, thus declaring an end to the c
onversation. After standing there long moments, during which Elizabeth stubbornl
y refused to meet his gaze, Mr. Darcy withdrew to attend his aunt and cousins. S
he was able to avoid further encounters with him for the remainder of the evenin
g, but he occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Elizabeth mourned her inability to laugh away his slights. Whenever she resolved
to grant the infuriating man no further consideration, another reason to este
em him would sur- ?8 face. She could resign herself to being despised by the likes of Lady Catherine
or Miss Bingley, for she held them likewise in low regard. It was altogether d
ifferent to suffer the disapproval of an individual impervious to any meaningful
censure. His proud manner notwithstanding, Elizabeth's estimation of Mr. Darcy
as a man of inherent decency as yet encountered no contradiction. If she consult
ed her feelings closely, she was forced to account the pain she suffered from hi
s reproaches to her own deepening admiration of him. A more hopeless case could not be found. By Mr. Darcy's own admission, his good
opinion once lost was lost forever. As disheartening as it was to lose his friendship, Elizabeth consoled herself wi
th the knowledge that mere friendship was all she could ever expect from such a
man. Perhaps it was best that she be denied his acquaintance on any level, rathe
r than suffer the disappointed hopes that should otherwise inevitably follow.
Mr. Darcy was welcome to protect his notions of propriety; she should do well
to likewise guard her heart. 2DARCY DID NOT KNOW why he was surprised to encounter Miss Elizabeth Bennet at Ro
sings. He knew that her sister had pursued Bingley to London, and he had been su
fficient- ly concerned for his friend to conspire with Miss Bingley to keep the
information secret. It only made sense that Mrs. Bennet should take any opportun
ity to again recommend her second daughter as a potential mistress of Pemberley.
An evening of Miss Elizabeth's arch comments, however, convinced Darcy she was
an unwilling participant in any such plot. Once again, her open demeanor with an
other man-this time his own cousin-made a painful contrast to her behavior towar
d him. While Darcy was gratified to understand that Miss Bennet personally had no desig
ns on his fortune, that her own complicity in any scheme was limited to the misf
or- tune of her birth into such a family, disappointment tainted his relief. For
he had not been able to forget her in the four months since quitting Netherfiel
d, and meeting with her again this evening had sealed the impression. She was, u
n- doubtedly, the most intriguing woman of his acquaintance, and worse, inconven
iently attractive. Nothing improved her fine eyes more than the spark of proud i
ndignation, and he seemed helpless to avoid provoking her displeasure simply to
delight in their beauty. Darcy found himself completely bewitched by her, despit
e her evident dislike of him. Perhaps it was best, given their vastly different stations. They would remain in
close proximity for only a matter of days; Darcy imagined he could enjoy the acquaintance without risking her feeli
ngs. Miss Elizabeth Bennet could not have stated more clearly that her heart was
safe from him; he relied on his sense of duty and propriety to protect his own. Chapter 6 ROSINGS PARK In following days, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam called frequently at the pa
rsonage. Elizabeth could not imagine why Mr. Darcy would willingly seek her comp
any, but she supposed the scarcity of diversions at Rosings must be the primary reason. Evidently her society compared favorably to
that of Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh, but that compliment was slight at bes
t. Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners were admired by all at Hunsford, and he amiably co
nversed with Elizabeth and her hosts. Whatever drew Mr. Darcy to accompany him o
n these visits, however, it was clearly not a desire for conversation. The gen
tleman spoke rarely and reluctantly. The surest way to close a topic to further
discussion was to solicit Mr. Darcy's opinion of it. While he preferred to haunt the corner of the sitting room and say little, Mr. D
arcy continued to stare at Elizabeth determinedly. By now, she was becoming quit
e immune to the sensation and had, for the most part, ceased attempting to disce
rn the thoughts behind his stern expression. If Mr. Darcy was resolved to note h
er every fault, there seemed little Elizabeth could do to dissuade him. Once, du
ring one of Mr. Collins' grandiloquent turns, her gaze caught his, and the sugge
stion of a smile flickered across Mr. Darcy's grave countenance-a glimmer of the
gentleman she had begun to know at Netherfield. She excused it, however, as amu
sement at her cousin's prattle, or perhaps only absence of mind. During her ramble in the park one morning, Elizabeth met with Mr. Darcy by chanc
e. He seemed as disconcerted as she by this unfortunate coincidence, and she men
tioned her preference for that particular grove so that he might avoid her in th
e future. How strange, then, that she should meet with him there again the follo
wing day! On this occasion, Mr. Darcy did not seem at all surprised to cross p
aths with her, and he did not make polite greetings and take his leave quickly,
but insisted on walking her back to the parsonage. "Mr. Darcy, I assure you, I am quite capable of finding my own way back to Hunsf
ord." When he did not answer, Elizabeth was exasperated. The man seemed perfectly cont
ent to dance in silence, walk in silence -- perhaps, she imagined, Mr. Darcy suf
fered from some mysterious affliction that prevented him from moving both his li
ps and his feet simultaneously. Well, if he would punish her with his presence,
she would exact the price of some conversation in return. "On further reflection, I suppose I ought to express gratitude for your escort
. Your cousin's tale the other day alerts me to the potential dangers of Rosings
Park. Who should guess these pleasant meadows and groves to harbor perni- cious
snakes?" "My cousin tends to exaggerate in his enthusiasm, Miss Bennet. The creature in q
uestion was a rather pitiful excuse for a snake. It would hardly warrant your al
arm." "What became of it, I wonder?" "The snake?" Mr. Darcy shot her a quizzical expression. "I hardly remember. I da
resay I let it escape." "Once again, sir, your renowned charity shames my own behavior. My own childhood
quarries were not so fortunate." "Did you catch snakes, then?" Mr. Darcy's tone was all astonishment, and Elizabe
th delighted in this opportunity to further scandalize his notions of strict pro
priety. "Oh, no! Never snakes. Only frogs and toads, you see. I once stowed away a frog
in the drawer of my father's desk, but-as I intimated just now-he was not so for
tunate as your snake, for he did not survive the experience." Mr. Darcy looked askance at her, and Elizabeth continued blithely. "I see you
are reluctant, sir, to inquire as to the particulars of my poor frog's demise, b
ut I shall enlighten you just the same. When my dear father opened the drawer, t
he creature made an impressive leap for freedom. It was simple bad luck that he
landed in a steaming cup of tea." At this, her companion stifled a strange sort of chortling cough. Elizabeth wond
ered if Mr. Darcy's affliction also affected his capacity for real laughter. Wou
ld he even recog- nize the sound if it escaped him? "Tragic, to be sure," he said, once his composure was in- tact. "But I expect yo
ur father did not thrash you for it." "No, indeed. I was, however, made to copy out a lengthy passage of Milton. 'Sata
n there they found, squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve...' and so forth.
""I should have preferred that punishment, myself." "Then I know the perfect passage," she said. "The serpent, 'suttlest beast of al
l the field.' If you care to attempt it, a copy resides in Mr. Collins' library."?"I will politely decline," he replied in a lig
ht tone that Elizabeth might have mistaken for teasing, had she not known better. "For your s
ake, I hope Mr. Collins' library is better supplied than Mr. Bingley's." "It is. Though predictably, its contents tend toward sermons and other moralis
tic fare." They lapsed into silence for a few moments, and the pause in their discourse gav
e Elizabeth the opportunity to marvel at its very existence. To think, she and M
r. Darcy had sus- tained a civil conversation for a duration of some minutes! Fu
rthermore, the gentleman seemed inclined to continue it of his own volition. "Mr. Collins seems very fortunate in his choice of a wife." Perhaps the pleasant
exchange would end here, she considered. Elizabeth knew the proper reply would be some ?9 benign comment on the prudence of the match and the couple's mutual felicity, bu
t such would not reflect her honest opinion. No, she decided, she would not at
tempt to purchase Mr. Darcy's approval through mindless agreement in the manne
r of Miss Bingley. If he wished to walk with her, and furthermore converse with
her, he ought to be aware that her true feelings would not be repressed. "I cannot deny that is a beneficial match for both, but I am inclined to place a
ll the good fortune on Mr. Collins' side. Charlotte is a dear friend, and I shou
ld judge any man fortunate to marry her. I cannot count any woman as fortunate
, however, when she is led to accept a gentleman not on the basis of affection o
r respect, but solely for her own security. I know such arrangements are common
enough, but I would wish better for my friend." Elizabeth thought Mr. Darcy's lack of response signaled that she had once again
offended his sensibilities with her forthrightness. When she ventured a glance i
n his direction, however, his countenance appeared merely pensive. "Although, now that I have seen her settled at Hunsford," she continued, "I am p
leased to discover that Charlotte seems perfectly happy. However tepid their aff
ection for one another, she and Mr. Collins seem united in deepest passion for h
er ladyship's patronage. When two share a devotion to some greater purpose, I
suppose their individual eccentricities fade into insignificance." "In any event, I expect your friend is happy to be settled so near her family. T
here are but fifty miles of good road between here and Meryton; it is little mor
e than a half-day's journey." "Near her family?" Elizabeth laughed. It amused her that such a wealthy gentlema
n of the world as Mr. Darcy should possess his own particular sort of naivet. "Fi
fty miles may be a short distance to those of means, perhaps, but Mr. and Mrs. C
ollins' income is not so ample as to permit frequent visits. I am convinced my f
riend would not consider herself near her family by any definition." "Surely, for one who has never ventured beyond her own neighborhood, anything mo
re than a few miles might seem a great distance. But you, Miss Bennet, have had
the benefit of travel. Would you always wish to be so near Longbourn?" His question was one Elizabeth had pondered herself, and she wished she could re
ward his perception with a more decided answer. Before her trips to the Peak Dis
trict and now Kent, she would have been content to always remain in Hertfordsh
ire. Watching Charlotte depart after her wedding, however, Elizabeth had felt an
unexpected swell of envy. She was not jealous of her friend's husband or situat
ion, of course, but she felt a queer resentment that Charlotte's life was in mot
ion while her own stood still. "Yours is not an easy question to answer, Mr. Darcy. I am very fond of my home,
to be sure. But sometimes it seems that affection improves with separation. When
I traveled with my aunt and uncle to the Peak District last summer, 20 we stopped at Dovedale-Certainly, you are familiar with its beauty?" "Yes, of course." "Well, as we followed the windings of the river, each bend in the path afforded
a uniquely charming prospect. However, I regretted that we were always prevented
, by the narrow and tortuous nature of the valley, from appreciating the whole.
Only by climbing the bluffs nearby could we admire the stunning landscape in its
totality. I have since concluded that distance inspires a deeper admiration in
some cases, with people as well as nature. Only this morning, I found myself m
issing the chatter of blackbirds outside my window at Longbourn, though weeks ag
o I cursed their daybreak discord. When I leave Kent, I expect I shall embrace
my family and friends in Hertfordshire all the more eagerly for having been par
ted from them." Here they reached a point in the lane where, by turning and traversing the park,
they might take the most direct route toward the parsonage. Mr. Darcy did not v
eer from the path, however, but kept walking forward. Whether he was merely dist
racted or deliberately prolonging their conversation, Elizabeth dared not gues
s, but she was of no mind to change course, herself. "Of course, I have only been absent from my home for a few weeks. It must be qui
te different for a gentleman like yourself, who travels freely from London to He
rtfordshire to Kent and so forth. You must be rarely in residence at your own es
tate." "Indeed, far less than I would like," he said. "It has been several months since
I have stopped there more than a few days, and then only to attend to estate bu
siness. I imagine it is a greater burden on my sister. Her illness and recovery
have kept her in London for the better part of a year, and I know she is eager t
o return to Pemberley. I would wish her to become comfortable in town, however,
for soon she will be introduced to society and spend the full season there." "Is she to come out this year, then?"?"No. The next, perhaps. She is but sixteen
."?"That is rather young, for full presentation to society." "Your youngest sist
ers are of an age with my own, and they are out."?Elizabeth laughed. "I believe you argue my own point, Mr. Darcy. Our situation is quite different, of course-being five sisters clos
e in age and moving as we do in limited society. Though I would never own to it
in Lady Catherine's hearing, Kitty and Lydia's public conduct often causes me to
question the wisdom of their early introduction. But certainly, you need have n
o similar concerns about Miss Darcy's comportment. She is reported by all to be
so accomplished and genteel." "Too much so, I fear. Her temperament has always tended toward reserve, and th
e hardships of the past year seem to have increased her inclination toward solit
ude. I must fault my own indulgence in this matter, for I have been unwilling to
press her into varied company. I share guard- ianship of my sister with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I will rely upon his more soc
iable nature to ease her introduction. As for her accomplishment, I suppose you
refer to Miss Bingley's admiration of her skill at the pianoforte. It is true th
at my sister plays very well, but Miss Bingley could have little knowledge of it
. Georgiana is exceedingly reluctant to admit any outside our family to the priv
ilege of hearing her play." Elizabeth was amazed that Mr. Darcy would confide in her such private thoughts a
nd concerns. It seemed this simple stroll through the park had taken them furthe
r than either intended. She worried that at any moment he would remember himself
and find cause to reject her anew for her impertinent interference. She could n
ot bear to look at him, for fear of meeting a reproachful glare. No amount of wi
tty retorts could mask her pain on this occasion, should he renew his censure. "It is not only Miss Bingley's report that has formed my impression, I assure yo
u. Your very gracious housekeeper acquainted me with Miss Darcy's affinity for m
usic some months ago. 'She plays and sings all day long'-those were her words." "Mrs. Reynolds is an exceptionally devoted servant of Pemberley." "She is exceptionally devoted to you, quite clearly!" Elizabeth recalled the hou
sekeeper's glowing description of her master. At the time, her adulation seemed
almost too much to believe, but by now Elizabeth had seen every word of her prai
se proved true in Mr. Darcy's behavior. Their progress along the lane had slowed to a ponderous pace, and she stole a qu
ick glance up at him to find his face still clouded with concern. Elizabeth coul
d not comprehend her startlingly strong admiration of this man, which, if it c
ontinued to grow at such an alarming rate, would soon eclipse even Mrs. Reynolds
' steadfast devotion. Neither could she explain her desire to earn his approval,
but if his regard for her amounted to a small fraction of the esteem in which s
he held him, she felt she would be satisfied. His friendship and good opinion we
re fast becoming require- ments of her happiness, it seemed. But even these esse
ntials were at present overshadowed by the need to ease his distress, as much
as it lay within her power to do so. "If I may be so bold, Mr. Darcy, I believe you concern yourself too much on your
sister's account. She is still quite young and has suffered much-her reserve is
understand- able, and your patience with her commendable." From his description
, Elizabeth imagined Miss Darcy to be much like Jane -- possessed of such sweet,
inoffensive goodness that it might be mistaken for complacency. Jane should hav
e ben- efited from a more sensitive guardian -- one who did not force her into g
entlemen's notice or parade her about. "I have observed," she continued slowly, "that great depth of feeling is often b
elied by a placid demeanor. There are some individuals so pure of spirit that th
eir emotions cannot not be alloyed with the cheaper element of public display. It is a virtue, not a failing. Perhaps it is to Miss Darcy's credit, then,
that she does not perform to strangers." "Miss Bennet ..." Mr. Darcy slowed to a halt, and Elizabeth felt her pulse stop
likewise. It took all the strength of will she could muster simply to meet his c
ountenance, but the look that awaited her there was one of such kindness and w
armth, she felt she might never lack for courage again. "There is a path, just there-through the wood. It will lead us back toward the p
arsonage, but the ground is rather uneven. Perhaps you had better take my arm." Elizabeth accepted both his arm and his overture in the friendly spirit she knew
them to be offered. She knew she ought to be contented with this small truce an
d the easy amiability in which they now proceeded along the path. His friendship
was more than she had dared expect and perhaps nothing greater than what she ha
d earned. It was, however, far less than she desired. 2DARCY COMMENDED HIMSELF ON his restraint. It was no small triumph of sense over
sentiment that he had offered Miss Elizabeth Bennet only his arm, when the force
of passion would have had him adding his heart and hand into the bargain. His eyes went to where her gloved hand lay lightly on his sleeve. The weight of
her touch was barely perceptible against his arm, but he felt its heavy conseque
nce in the core of his being. He could not recall conversing so freely and natur
ally with any other lady of his acquaintance-in truth, with any other person. It
was all too easy to imagine walking on with her thus forever. But these were ridiculous notions, he chided himself. She was only here at Rosin
gs-with him-at her manipulative mother's behest. Miss Bennet had made it only to
o obvious that she held him in no special regard, and had she not just stated
plainly that she would not wish a loveless match upon a friend? Clearly, nothing
less than truest affection would persuade her to marriage, herself. Her integri
ty was both admirable and agonizing. Even if she favored him, Darcy admonished himself, it was absurd to entertain th
oughts of an alliance with such a family. Fine eyes and lively spirit notwithsta
nding, her low connections, lack of fortune, and indecorous relations ought to p
rovide sufficient inducement to banish all matrimonial nonsense from his mind. A
nd so they might - but what powerful persuasion should dislodge her from his hea
rt? 22? THE FOLLOWING MORNING ELIZABETH wandered in the grove for some time, hoping to m
eet with Mr. Darcy again. At length a gentleman did appear, but it was Colonel F
itzwilliam who joined her and not his cousin. If she could not talk with Mr. Darcy, however, it seemed she could not help but
talk about him, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was only too happy to bolster her positi
ve impressions with his own humorous anecdotes. Elizabeth was not surprised to
hear the colonel describe his cousin as a most loyal friend. "To be certain," she agreed. "He takes great care of Mr. Bingley, for one." "Ah, yes. Mr. Bingley. I believe my cousin has only recently rescued that gent
leman from a most imprudent as- sociation." "Indeed?"?Elizabeth supposed that Colonel Fitzwilliam referred to some financial dealing or a matter of estate business. It was easy to imagine Mr
. Darcy giving his subtle guidance to Mr. Bingley on such matters, much as she h
ad witnessed when the poacher was apprehended at Netherfield. While she had become accustomed to hearing reports that praised his generosity,
she was not yet inured to their gratifying effect. She therefore enjoined the co
lonel to further explain the particulars of Mr. Bingley's most recent scrape.
To her complete dismay, the details of the matter were not at all what she had s
urmised. Chapter 7 HUNSFORD PARSONAGE Tter her conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam that afternoon. Mr. Collins took n
o pains to hide his displeasure with Elizabeth's ill-timed indisposition; for
her if her ladyship desired cards, the tables would now be uneven. At length, ho
wever, Charlotte's gentle prodding and the imminent prospect of a tardy arriva
l persuaded him to leave her behind. At last alone with her thoughts, Elizabeth brought out all of Jane's letters fro
m London and set herself to examining each one closely. Aside from the portions
that detailed Miss Bingley's cold treatment, there was no complaint or expres- s
ion of actual suffering within their pages. There was, however, a decided want
of Jane's usual cheerful manner, and the more Elizabeth read, the more she was
convinced that her sister had been wounded deeply indeed. Jane had dared to lo
ve and dared to hope, and the happiness she and Mr. Bingley deserved had been cr
uelly denied them by two interfering individuals. Miss Bingley's conduct Elizabe
th had long despised, but only today had she learned of another's complicity i
n Jane's maltreatment. In seeking to tout his cousin's capacity for loyal frie
ndship, Colonel Fitzwilliam had unwittingly implicated him in the infliction of
Jane's suffering. Elizabeth was left to contend with a bitter realization: the s
ource of her dearest sister's pain was none other than Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy -- the man she had held in high esteem even before making his acquaint
ance, and toward whom she had harbored the beginnings of a tender affection. Whi
le her family and neighbors had marked him as proud and haughty, Elizabeth had
foolishly believed herself in possession of an intimate knowledge of his charac
ter. Blinded by her own feelings, she had excused his every proud mannerism and
given him the benefit of every doubt. Mr. Darcy's desire to distance himself from the Bennet family could scarcely be
condemned, she had reasoned, given their continual displays of impropriety in
his presence. Although his disdain for her family pained her, Elizabeth had been
heretofore disinclined to fault him for it. That is, until this afternoon, when
Colonel Fitzwilliam revealed to her Mr. Darcy's efforts to separate Jane and Mr
. Bingley, and worse-his shameful boasting of the misery he had been able to inf
lict upon them! Lydia and Kitty's silly displays notwithstanding, surely anyone, no matter how c
asually acquainted, could observe 22 hat evening, desperate to avoid another invitation to Rosings, Elizabeth pleaded a headache. She could not bear the prospect of facing Mr. Darcy-not af- that dear, sweet Jane represented all that was proper and good in the Bennet fam
ily. And Mr. Bingley-if Elizabeth had ever met a more affable and unassuming gen
tleman, she could not remember him. How could Mr. Darcy, knowing the goodness of
these two souls, inflict upon them this most acute suffering? Elizabeth tried to believe that Colonel Fitzwilliam might have been mistaken. Pe
rhaps Mr. Darcy's reservations about her family merely encouraged Mr. Bingley to
accept a course of action he had already been inclined to follow. But no, Colon
el Fitzwilliam's account must be true. What motive would he have to exaggerate h
is cousin's satisfaction at such a "triumph," as he called it? If Mr. Darcy beli
eved himself to be acting in the best of intentions for his friend, why should h
is cousin report that he "congratulated himself" at that same friend's agony? Elizabeth was faced with the conclusion that her estimation of Mr. Darcy had b
een conceived in error, bred in continued misunderstanding, and colored by her o
wn imprudent emotions. What a fool she had been! Her grip on Jane's letters ti
ghtened until it threatened to tear the paper on which they were written. In her
current state, nothing would have done so well as a brisk walk through the park
to quell her anger, but, given the late hour and her feigned illness, she would
have to content herself with a good cry in the safety of her chamber. It would
be the last evening she humbled herself so for Mr. Darcy's sake. Once her emotio
ns were purged, she told herself, she would resolve to forget that gentleman imm
ediately. The very moment she had decided to retire to her chamber and welcome the tears t
hat were already stinging her eyes, the doorbell gave her a start. She imagined
it might be Colonel Fitzwilliam come to call; she had been unable to completely
mask her distress with him earlier, and he had expressed concern for her well-
being. Elizabeth quickly stood up, smooth- ing her dress with her hands and biti
ng her lip mightily to stem her tears. It would not do to let him see her so ups
et and thus be confronted with inconvenient questions. To Elizabeth's utter amazement, it was not Colonel Fitzwilliam who entered the r
oom, but Mr. Darcy! He immediately inquired after her health, and having recei
ved Elizabeth's curt assurance that she was indeed well, began to pace about the
room. She watched him, surprised at this uncharacteristic behavior, but could n
ot bring herself to break the silence. Whatever he has come here to say, she tho
ught, I dare not attempt to guess. Clearly, I have been blind, and he is as much
a stranger to me now as he was the evening we were introduced at Meryton. After a silence of a few minutes, Mr. Darcy seemed to come to a decision. He cea
sed his agitated pacing and approached her with an earnest and intense look th
at rendered Elizabeth quite breathless. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. Yo
u must allow me to tell you how ar- dently I admire and love you." Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She found herself incapable of t
hought, much less speech. Her silence was evidently taken as encouragement, and
Mr. Darcy began an avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her. Mr. Darcy loves me! It cannot be true! Elizabeth's heart leapt at the knowledge,
and she immediately realized the impossibility of her earlier resolution to ban
ish him from her thoughts. As much as her mind bade her remember dear Jane's mis
ery, her blood betrayed her completely. It suffused through all her limbs with r
apidity, and she felt a warmth unlike any sensation she had ever experienced. As
he made his declarations of love, an ardent expression transformed Mr. Darcy'
s normally composed features. It was all Elizabeth could do to keep herself from
throwing herself into his arms and ceasing his seemingly endless converse with
her lips. The blood thundering in Elizabeth's ears began to slow, however, and she became
once again sensible of the meaning of her suitor's addresses. To her revulsion
, she realized that even as he plied her with words of love, he was not more elo
quent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. "You must realize that my attachment to you goes against every expectation of my
relations and peers and, I must add, against my own better judgment. It was cle
ar from our earliest acquaintance that your family sought to elevate their pos
ition by bringing about our union. Despite my desire to avoid such base scheming
, and your own obvious indifference, it was not a matter of weeks before my ad
miration for you began to cloud my judgment. This admiration soon deepened into
a passionate regard despite my every intention to the contrary. Your charms, h
owever unwillingly be- stowed, have now irrevocably ensnared my heart. I beg you
to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife." Elizabeth's elation at Mr. Darcy's first blunt declaration of love could not hav
e been more fleeting. Indeed, as she listened to the remainder of his suit, he
r blush of passion soon deepened to a color of acute embarrassment, and as he fi
- nally finished, her face burned with indignation. How dare he insinuate that s
he had courted his attentions through the scheming of her family? That she had s
ought to ensnare him with her charms? And this was his opinion of her! She could not deny that the circumstances surrounding their earliest interaction
s lent themselves easily to this in- terpretation, but she had thought it many m
onths since he had looked on her with such suspicion. To learn not only that he
persisted in such a view, but to hear it voiced so decidedly and disdainfully; t
o be proved so wrong in her assessment of him twice in the space of a single day
-it was insupportable! "In cases such as this," she ventured in halting tones, willing her voice to r
emain calm, "I believe the established mode is to express a sense of obligation
for the sentiments avowed. If I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But
I cannot, Mr. Darcy. As much as I welcome your good 23 opinion, I have never sought any such advances. I am sorry to occasion you pain.
I can only hope that, now that you have unburdened yourself of such clearly dis
tasteful sentiments, your unclouded judgment may assist you in over- coming th
em." Now it was Mr. Darcy's turn to express astonishment. Elizabeth watched him strug
gle at length to master his emotions. Truly, he appeared quite pale, and for a
moment she felt concerned for his health. Foolish girl, she chided herself. He
has insulted you and your family in every way possible, and you still cannot hel
p but concern yourself with his well-being? At last, he spoke. "Is this all the answer I am to receive? May I ask why, with
so little attempt at civility, I am thus rejected? But it is of little consequ
ence." The bitterness in his voice and thinly veiled anger it betrayed spurred E
lizabeth to action. Unwise as it might be, she could not help but take full adva
ntage of this opening in which to vent her own accusations against him. "You may ask, sir, for I believe it to be of great consequence. But I might as
k you why you came here to tell me that you loved me against your will, against
your judgment, and even against your character? That you came in surrender to
this long-planned scheme between my inferior relations and myself to ensnare y
ou? Surely this is an excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil." Mr. Darcy looked as if he might speak, but Elizabeth would not give him the oppo
rtunity. If she relinquished the floor now, she might never gather the nerve to
speak further. "Mr. Darcy, until today I believed that we had forged a friendship of sorts, des
pite our tendency to spar and disagree. I foolishly believed myself to discern
a goodness and decency beneath your proud manner, and-even more ab- surdly, it
seems-I hoped that you had formed a similarly favorable opinion of my own dispos
ition. You must believe me, Mr. Darcy, when I say I had not the slightest idea o
f the admiration you expressed tonight. I believed myself only the recipient of
some measure of hard-won respect on your part. I felt fortunate enough to call y
ou friend, with no hopes of a deeper attachment. "I now realize how utterly I have deceived myself. If the tender feelings you ex
pressed earlier had been in the smallest way motivated by a true understanding o
f my own character, you could not possibly believe me capable of employing art
or scheme to catch a husband, to-how did you phrase it-'elevate my position?' A
dmittedly, my mother's preoccupation with securing her daughters' futures is o
ften im- properly displayed, but neither the desires nor designs of my mother ha
ve ever ruled my conduct, else you should have greeted me in this house as 'Mrs.
Collins' this evening." At this admission, Mr. Darcy's eyes grew wide, but he kept silent and sank into
a nearby armchair. It was now Elizabeth's turn to pace the room. "But you mistake me, Mr. Darcy, if I give the impression that the manner of yo
ur addresses was the cause for 24 my refusal. The offense caused by your accusations has only served to spare me a
ny hesitation I might have felt in wound- ing your feelings, had you behaved in
a more gentlemanlike manner. For as much as you have misunderstood my own charac
ter, Mr. Darcy, I have just this afternoon learned to what extent my own estimat
ion of yours was so ill-judged. I have far better reason to refuse you, you know
I have." Anger flared across Mr. Darcy's countenance. "You speak of Mr. Wickham, I presum
e. I know you take an eager interest in that gentleman's affairs." He fair spa
t the words, as though the very name of Wickham tasted bad upon his lips. "Mr. Wickham?" Elizabeth wondered aloud, confused by this sudden turn of convers
ation. "What of him? Surely you do not believe me to have been taken in by his p
retty manners and sly insinuations. From the moment he began assaulting your cha
racter to me in such an inappropriate context, I suspected that something was am
iss in his account of your relationship. I tried to communicate as much when w
e danced at Netherfield, to provide an opportunity for you to relate your own ac
count. But I could see that the topic pained you, and I did not press further." Mr. Darcy appeared at a loss. "Is this true? You never gave credit to any of Wic
kham's deceits?" "Unfortunately, I am not possessed of the knowledge that would allow me to disce
rn his deceits from his follies, but you may believe that I gave little credit t
o any of Mr. Wickham's smooth converse." Elizabeth hugged her arms around herself. The fire h
ad begun to die down, and the room seemed to be growing colder by the moment. "But, if not Wickham-to what can you refer, when you speak of an offense that wo
uld render my addresses so dis- gusting to you?" Mr. Darcy's tone was that of co
mplete bewilderment, but Elizabeth could not believe him to be insensible of his
most grievous offense. "I assure you, sir, even the most tender and passionate of avowals could never h
ave convinced me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happines
s of a most beloved sister!" Elizabeth squared her shoulders and confronted him directly. "Do you deny it,
sir?" she asked. "Can you possibly convince me that you did not unjustly separat
e two people wholly in love, namely my sister and Mr. Bingley?" As she asked, sh
e realized that she hoped he might convince her of just that. But her hopes were
to be dashed once again. "I do not deny it. I made every effort to separate Mr. Bingley from your sister,
and I rejoice in my success. You have said that you did not wish a loveless mar
riage for your friend. Should I desire less for my own? Towards him I have been
kinder than towards myself." "What can you know of my sister's feelings? Your understanding of my own has b
een completely flawed, even on the basis of a far more intimate acquaintance." E
lizabeth seethed with anger at his presumption and officious interference. "Pl
ease, sir, amuse me with more of your charac- terizations of the females among y
our acquaintance. After this evening, I should not be surprised to hear you call Miss Bingley an angel;
or Mrs. Hurst, a wit. In the future, you would do well to adopt a more forgiving
attitude towards ladies like Jane, whose emotions match their manners for delic
acy. Your own sister may thank you. " Elizabeth recognized the mask of pride that had once again captured Mr. Darcy's
countenance. The set of his jaw, the impenetrable glare in his dark eyes...She k
new the expression well. Insufferable man! Mr. Darcy rose from his chair and pulled himself up to his full, imposing height
."Forgive me for taking up so much of your time, Miss Bennet. I believe I underst
and your sentiments completely, and now I have only to be ashamed of what my own
have been." He started to leave, but stopped and turned to address her once m
ore. "Am I to understand that I now share the distinction of being refused by Mi
ss Elizabeth Bennet with Mr. Collins? Did I comprehend you correctly, that he al
so made you an offer of marriage?" "He did, sir. The morning following the ball at Nether- field." "And you rejected him?"?"The answer to that question is quite evident, I believe
." A strange expression crossed Mr. Darcy's face as he received this information.
Elizabeth thought she could detect a struggle within him as he decided what to
make of this admission. Then his face darkened, and she knew that once again he
was inclined to believe the worst of her. "No doubt you refused him in the hopes of holding out for better." He was daring
her to contradict him, and Elizabeth could not back down from the challenge. "Yes, indeed I did, sir. I refused Mr. Collins because I had hopes of something
infinitely better. Not a fortune of ?0,000 a year, or a grand estate in Derbyshi
re, Mr. Darcy, but the hope of mutual esteem and love." She attempted to maintai
n a dispassionate tone, but a slight catch in her voice betrayed her disappointm
ent. A glimmer of emotion escaped Mr. Darcy's control at that moment, and he grasped
Elizabeth's hand in his. She gasped sharply at this impulsive gesture and looked
up at him with every intent to reproach, but the warm regard in his eyes threat
ened to dissolve her anger entirely. "Miss Bennet," he began gently. "My feelings may have been ill-expressed, but I
assure you they are sincere. My heart is yours-completely and irretrievably. Suc
h force of affection will not be denied; it compels me to offer you a share of m
y life, my home, and all my worldly possessions. If but one of these inducements
would persuade you to accept me, I tell myself I should be satisfied." He ste
pped toward her boldly, his voice distilled to a whisper resonant with yearnin
g. "But Elizabeth, dare I ask-is it possible that you do love me?" He lifted her hand to his lips, placing upon her palm a kiss of such tenderness
and ardor as Elizabeth had never dreamed to be in his disposition. She stood tra
nsfixed by the sensations that burned on her palm and coursed throughout her body, and she al
lowed her hand to remain in his as he pressed it to his chest. "I once foolishly entertained such a notion." She could not tear her eyes from t
he sight of his hand covering hers, and she swallowed self-consciously before co
ntinuing in a whisper. "Despite your belief to the contrary, sir, I have never b
een dishonest with you. Much as I might wish otherwise, I find myself incapabl
e of deceiving you now. I am ashamed to own to it, Mr. Darcy, but I had scarcely
known you a month when I felt you were the only man I could ever marry." "Elizabeth," he sighed, encircling her waist with his free arm and gathering her
close to him. She could feel his welcome warmth, and it took everything in he
r power to resist melting into it. He offered her devotion, protection, tender-
ness, security-everything within his power to grant, save the one thing she desi
red most-his respect. With no small amount of effort, she retreated, pulling her hand from his grasp.
"The use of a lady's Christian name, sir, is generally reserved for those of her
intimate acquaintance. I am sorry to say that this day has revealed to me tha
t we know each other not at all. I fear that we are little more than strangers.
Your understanding of my character has been so wholly mistaken, and those hopes
I am embarrassed to say I once harbored have been cruelly destroyed by this ne
w intimation of your selfish disdain for the feelings of others." She could not
bear to meet his eyes again. With as much calm and dignity as she could muster,
she turned away slightly and spoke in a firm voice. "I must beg you, sir, to lea
ve me now." She did not hear him leave, but she felt the room go cold in his absence and shi
vered. 25 Chapter 8 ROSINGS PARK Elizabeth wandered in the park longer than usual the following morning. She had
barely slept the night before, and the long hours spent revisiting and re- visin
g her encounter with Mr. Darcy had left her feelings in ever-increasing turmoil.?She wondered at those with the stomach for
high-stakes gambling. In less than an hour, she had glimpsed her greatest conceivable happ
iness and then seen it snatched away, and this brush with fortune's cruel pendul
um left her aching and hollow. She wandered numbly through the groves and mead
ows, not knowing where she tended, each step a task sufficient to her available
strength. How was she to understand the events of the previous evening? Mr. Darcy loved he
r. Mr. Darcy disdained her. He praised her beauty and intelligence in one breath
, and with the next accused her of artful scheming. Mr. Darcy had offered his ha
nd in marriage, and even humbled himself to the level of begging her to accept.
Yet he despised himself for doing so and took every opportunity to articulate hi
s reluctance. If Elizabeth dissected Mr. Darcy's statements to her, they formed two distinct h
alves of an incongruous whole. Was it possible to both love and loathe the same
person, at the same time? It seemed it must be so, unless she could completely
dismiss one set or the other of Mr. Darcy's declarations. And, upon intense r
eflection, this odd juxtaposition of emotions was a rather accurate summary of h
er own feelings toward him. A few days ago, she could not have laid truthful c
laim to either sentiment. She esteemed Mr. Darcy; she held him in an increasingl
y tender regard-but she had not permitted the notion of love to enter her consci
ousness. Likewise, while his treatment of her had not always been just or kind,
she had never found a motive to despise him. Now, however, it was impossible to feel anything other than revulsion for the
man who had so meanly judged her sister and so callously interfered in her happi
ness. If she detested him for his insulting and arrogant appraisal of her and he
r family, no one could lay blame. Yet within her, these intense emotions mingled
with passions of an altogether different nature-her soul's stirring at his ar
dent declarations of love and the desire ignited within her by his tender kiss.
She felt the ember of that brief caress smolder- ing still upon her palm, and sh
e closed her fingers over it in a vain attempt to preserve its warmth. It seemed a hopeless endeavor, to impose any rational order on her feelings. F
urthermore, her success or failure in 26 the effort was of little consequence. Upon returning to the parsonage, Elizabeth
learned that Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had called in her absence to tak
e their leave. They were to quit Rosings early the next morning. In all likeliho
od, she would never meet with either gentleman again. Their departure was announced as an accomplished fact by none other than Lady Ca
therine de Bourgh, when she called at the parsonage the following day. The week
that stretched before Elizabeth until she, too, would leave Kent seemed intermin
able. Resolve as she might to forget Mr. Darcy, the act of doing so proved beyon
d the power of even her determined will. Every hour of the day, some memory of t
heir last encounter would drift unbidden into her consciousness, and she would h
ear his voice in her mind as clearly as if he stood before her. These snippets o
f recollection made her pulse quicken or her blood run cold, by turns. I arden
tly admire and love you... Despite my desire to avoid such base scheming...I mad
e every effort to separate Mr. Bingley from your sister, and I rejoice in my suc
cess... Such force of affection will not be denied... Elizabeth...! With few diversions to occupy her thoughts and no dear Jane to serve as confidan
te, Elizabeth relived these moments as a kind of secret and relentless torture.
The fact that many of her remaining hours at Hunsford were necessarily passed in
the very room where Mr. Darcy had made those ill-fated addresses only increased
her distress. She found her gaze following the path of his agitated pacing when
he had first entered, lighting on the armchair from which he had fielded her ac
cusations, and inevitably coming to rest on the corner of the mantelpiece near w
hich he had drawn her into his embrace. She counted the hours until she would be reunited with Jane and at last be able
to share this burden with her most beloved sister. The morning before Elizabeth and Maria Lucas were scheduled to depart Hunsford,
the business of packing and leave-taking finally providing some much-needed dist
rac- tion, she received a most remarkable letter. My dear Lizzy, I scarcely know what to write, or whether I ought to write at all. If you even r
eceive this letter before you leave Kent, I fear that by the time you arrive in
London, intervening events?may have proved me a fool once more. But for the pres
ent, my joy cannot be contained, and I must share such news with you, Lizzy, my
dearest sister and friend. Yesterday, two gentlemen came to call here at Gracechurch Street. Your astonishm
ent will no doubt rival my own when you read their names-Mr. Bingley and Mr. Dar
cy! I can imagine your surprise as you read this, dear Lizzy, but take pity on y
our poor sister, who was forced to greet them but a few moments after receiving
such a shock! If not for the calm and gracious hospitality of our aunt, I surely would have been lost, for I could
not even bring myself to look in their direction for some moments after they
entered the parlor. Oh, Lizzy-imagine my distress! For the better part of three months here in town,
I have attempted to put Mr. Bingley?out of my thoughts. I had all but convinced
myself that any feelings I once had for him were now completely forgotten; that
they were never anything other than girlish imaginings that should strike me as
absurd, if ever we crossed paths again. There was no indication that he and Mr. Darcy intended anything by this call oth
er than an overdue gesture of courtesy, and so for the first several minutes of
our awkward conversation I struggled mightily against any sensations of affect
ion, or worse, hope. When at length I dared to meet Mr. Bingley's gaze, it seemed to reflect my own d
iscomfiture. Imagine Mr. Bingley-ever the essence of amiability-so halting in hi
s speech that his reticent friend Mr. Darcy was forced to carry the burden of co
nversation! Again, I bless the presence of our dear aunt, for the two spoke quit
e easily for some time about the close proximity of their childhood homes in D
erbyshire. We did manage eventually, Mr. Bingley and I, some polite discourse. I would reco
unt our entire conversation for you faithfully, Lizzy, but in truth I can scarce
recall a word that was spoken, save one most astonishing piece of information.
For Mr. Bingley insists that he was completely unaware of my presence in town un
til Mr. Darcy informed him of it, just?two days ago! He apologized profusely and
stated that, had he not been ignorant of my being in London, nothing could have
prevented him from calling on me at the earliest opportunity. I know that Miss
Bingley's deceit in this matter will not shock you, Lizzy, but I must own that I
am still incredulous as to the depth of duplicity Mr. Bingley's intimation impl
ies. Even now, I would prefer to believe it all a great misunderstanding of some
sort-for who can admit rancor in the face of such joy? Before he took his leave, Mr. Bingley asked if he might call again today-indeed,
we expect him presently-and he extended an invitation to me, as well as Aunt an
d Uncle Gardiner, to dine at his townhouse tomorrow! All my efforts to avoid vai
n hopes were dissolved by his kindness and sincere manner. You may chide me for
my weakness in the end, but I cannot deny that I await Mr. Bingley's call today
with most imprudent anticipation. When you greet me here in some days' time, Lizzy, you will find your sister in e
ither the greatest of ecstasies or the depths of despair-and in either case I sh
all be desperate to see you and talk with you at last. Your loving sister, Jane Elizabeth read the letter several times before she could fully comprehend its co
ntents, and as her carriage rattled toward London the following day, she found h
erself still at a loss to discern its deeper meaning. Beside her, Maria Lucas ke
pt up a steady monologue of the dates, circumstances, and menus of their every i
nvitation to Rosings, leaving Elizabeth free to pass the journey in silent conte
mplation. By the date on Jane's letter and her description of events, the gentlemen had pa
id their call to Gracechurch Street the day after Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwill
iam had quit Rosings. And by this calculation, Mr. Darcy must have gone the very
evening of his arrival in town to inform Mr. Bingley of Jane's presence in Chea
pside. Whatever Mr. Darcy's motivation in reuniting the couple he had so merci-
lessly separated, he had brooked no delay in doing so. But what was his motivation? Did he believe Elizabeth when she championed the si
ncerity of Jane's attachment and seek to make amends for his error? If so, he co
uld only be compelled by a sense of duty to his friend. It was too much to credi
t that he hoped to improve Elizabeth's opinion of him through this act. Surely,
Mr. Darcy would not stoop to renew his addresses, having been so discourteously
rebuffed. As often as his words that evening returned to haunt her, her own cutt
ing retorts were never far behind. Perhaps, Elizabeth considered, Mr. Darcy simply wished to mollify his own feelin
gs by proving his original estimation of the Bennets as scheming and inferior.
He may have expected that this personal encounter with their unsuit- ably low c
onnections might convince both gentlemen of the Bennet family's patent unworthin
ess. If such were his strategy, his efforts would be thwarted; for despite being
in trade, the Gardiners' gracious manners were always above reproach, and Jane
would never oblige Mr. Darcy's suspicions by displaying either self-promotion
or incivility. Whatever Mr. Darcy's motives, Elizabeth hoped that Mr. Bingley would not be so e
asily persuaded on this occasion to follow anything but the dictates of his own
happiness. Jane's letter seemed to indicate he was as much in love with her as e
ver, but several days had passed since those first impressions had been penned
to paper. Elizabeth keenly anticipated her arrival in Cheapside, knowing one
glance at Jane's face would put an end to all speculation. She felt an immeasurable relief, therefore, when upon descending from the carria
ge in Gracechurch Street she immediately encountered Jane's radiant smile. The
two sisters embraced eagerly, exchanging knowing looks that hinted at the hours
of intimate revelations to be shared. Elizabeth dearly loved her aunt and uncle
, but on this occasion she rushed through the pleasantries of their reunion, exc
using herself as soon as possible to rest and refresh herself upstairs. Jane, of
course, was only too willing to accompany her, and poor Maria Lucas was left to
begin her luncheon with near strangers. "Well, then...?" Elizabeth prompted as soon as they were safely behind closed do
ors. 27 "Oh, Lizzy! I have so much to tell you, I hardly know where to begin. I am so gl
ad to have you here at last to share my joy. I feel I shall crack for holding in
so much happiness." Elizabeth laughed gently. "My dear Jane, if your happiness is a secret from an
yone, I should be exceedingly surprised. Such joy is plainly writ across your
face as to make me despair of ever feeling one-tenth the emotion." "To be sure, our aunt and uncle are aware of my attachment to Mr. Bingley-for
such is the source of my happiness, as you must have guessed already-but the f
ull extent is unknown to even them. I fear I shall burst with my happy secret if
I keep it from you a moment longer. Lizzy-you will not believe it, but we are e
ngaged!" "Engaged! So soon?" Elizabeth's astonishment was quickly overwhelmed by her si
ster's infectious joy, and she clasped Jane's hands warmly. "But of course, I be
lieve it-Mr. Bingley was a fool not to have proposed to you months ago!" "Oh, Lizzy-you must not speak of him so! He is to be your brother now. Oh-but it
is the strictest confidence. We agreed not to tell anyone until he has spoken t
o Papa. I believe I shall be forgiven, however, for sharing my joy with you." "Of course you shall. And I shall be the soul of discretion." "I hope you will also forgive me then, Lizzy, for not returning to Longbourn t
oday. Mr. Bingley-Charles-has business to keep him in town another week, after w
hich he will return to Netherfield and seek an audience with Papa. He asked me t
o consider extending my stay here in Cheapside for some days so we need not be s
eparated during that time. After long months of deprivation, it seems absurd tha
t a week more should signify-but Lizzy, I admit I am as loath to part from him a
s he is from me." Jane blushed, and Elizabeth squeezed her sister's hands in enc
ouragement. "Our aunt and uncle have agreed to the extension of the visit and thankfully pre
ssed for few details, despite their obvious curiosity. Aunt Gardiner has alrea
dy written to Mama asking permission for us both to come home in a week's time.
Will you not remain in town with me? Charles has invited us to the theater on We
dnesday." Elizabeth considered her sister's plea. Under any other circumstances, a week in
London and an evening at the theater would have enticed her from any set plans.
The prospect of meeting with Mr. Darcy during that week's stay, however, was a
pain that would outweigh any pleasure. Once again, he had interfered in the cour
se of Jane and Mr. Bingley's relationship-this time with happier conse- quences-
but it did not necessarily follow that his interference was kindly meant; nor
was it certain that he approved of the results. Whether Mr. Darcy wished her fam
ily good or ill, however, Elizabeth could not imagine greeting him with any semb
lance of equanimity when her own feelings remained so conflicted. "It is tempting," she said at last, "but I confess I am eager toseeLongbournagai
n.AndwhatwouldbecomeofMaria? 28 I cannot allow her to travel on to Meryton alone-Lady Lucas would never forgive
me." The sisters had abandoned their hosts for as long as good manners would allow. E
lizabeth exacted Jane's promise to preserve every detail of the week past, as we
ll as the days to come, and faithfully tell all when they were reunited at Longb
ourn. As the carriage departed for Hertfordshire, Elizabeth realized that she, too,
would be forced to keep her silence for another agonizing week. First Charlotte,
now Jane- Elizabeth was fast forfeiting all her closest confidantes to the inst
itution of marriage. As sincerely happy as she was for her sister, Elizabeth lam
ented that even when Jane returned to her, it would be for a time briefly borr
owed against her future life as Mrs. Bingley. Eventually, the distance between
them would be far greater than the three miles from Longbourn to Netherfield im
plied. When they reached Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth did not expect her own family's carri
age to be waiting there. Her parents would have received her aunt's letter by
now and likely assumed Elizabeth had remained behind in London. The afternoon wa
s fine, and after a day spent inside a cramped, dusty carriage, the prospect of
a brisk walk held great appeal. She paid her respects to the Lucas family and
declared her intent to walk on to Longbourn. Hill would be sent to collect her t
hings presently. What relief she felt, treading the familiar path to Longbourn! Elizabeth tugged
off her bonnet and gloves to revel in the fresh, spring breeze. She greeted each
gnarled tree and listing fencepost as an old friend, and her humor improved wit
h each homeward step. Surely, the clarity of thought that had eluded her ever si
nce Mr. Darcy's proposal would return to her here in Hertfordshire. Elizabeth passed unnoticed through the gate of Longbourn. No one expected her; t
he house was quiet. She had no desire to disturb the tableau of domestic tranqui
l- ity by making a formal entrance. She decided instead to traverse the gardens
and enter by the kitchen, as she would return from any ordinary stroll. Very little was blooming in Longbourn's small park when Elizabeth had last seen
it. Now the trees were in full leaf, and tender shoots of herbs and flowers twin
ed sunward, only hinting at the tangled thicket of greenery and blossoms they
would produce by summer's peak. Her eyes were downcast as she turned the corner
of the hedge, and she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a remarkably fine p
air of boots on the path before her. Unless her father or Hill had traded their
dusty, broken-in footgear for the work of London's finest cobblers, there could
be no doubt as to their owner. Elizabeth looked up in disbelief at the gentleman
standing before her on the garden path. "Mr. Darcy!" "Miss Bennet." He bowed solemnly, and Elizabeth curtsied. Their glances met br
iefly, and just as quickly diverted to study the flowers, the path, a nearby ben
ch. Neither spoke for some moments. Elizabeth bit her lip as though chiding it for its stupi
dity, and she felt certain her cheeks must rival the rhododendrons' crimson hue. "Forgive me for the intrusion," he said at length. "I thought you were in London
. That is, your father gave me leave to understand you and Miss Bennet would rem
ain there another week." "No. I mean, yes, my sister did extend her stay in town, but I decided to return
as scheduled. My father-you came to call on my father?" Now it was Mr. Darcy's face that colored with embarrassment. "I am passing by
Netherfield as a favor to Mr. Bingley, to deliver some instructions to his staff
. He plans to take up residence there again presently." Elizabeth could only nod mutely.?"While nearby, I decided to call at Longbourn t
o pay my respects to Mr. Bennet. I did not properly take my leave of the neighborhood las
t November, and left many such debts of courtesy. I shall continue on to Pemberl
ey tomorrow. My sister is already en route with her companion." "I see. Miss Darcy-she is well, I hope?" "Yes, thank you." Silence claimed them once more. Elizabeth looked down at the bonnet and gloves d
angling from her hands uselessly. Why had she been so careless as to remove them? She could not attempt to put the
m on now, that would only call more attention to their absence. She impulsively
thrust them behind her back, as if by so doing she might deny their exis- tenc
e entirely. But now she had nothing to hide her dusty, road-wrinkled skirts. At last, Mr. Darcy seemed to take pity on her distress. "I must be going, then.
Good day, Miss Bennet." "Good day, Mr. Darcy." She curtsied deeply and dared not look up again until she
heard his footsteps fading into the distance. Then, bonnet ribbons trailing beh
ind her and gloves let fall in the path, she hastened into the house. "Papa! Papa!" She rushed directly to her father's library. "Why, Lizzy-what a surprise, child! This makes two very unexpected arrivals in o
ne day, but I must say yours is the pleasanter surprise by far. We thought you w
ould remain in London with Jane." "Mr. Darcy..." Elizabeth could scarcely catch her breath. She swallowed hard and
struggled to regain some semblance of composure. "Papa-what did Mr. Darcy have
to say?" "Oh, little enough and even less of interest. You remember his reserved manner
, Lizzy-it would not seem that it has altered much since November last. What he
lacks in sociability, he may be credited in consistency, I suppose. I wonder tha
t he stopped to call at all. Passed him on the road, did you?" "Yes." The fatigue of her day's journey, a week spent in emotional turmoil, an
d the entirety of a month's absence from home suddenly overwhelmed Elizabeth, an
d she sank into a nearby chair and stared absently at her father's bookshelves. terest you, Elizabeth. Although I do not know how your sisters or mother may rec
eive the news, it seems that Mr. Bingley will soon return to Netherfield." "Mr. Darcy did share one piece of information that may in- 29 Chapter 9 LONGBOURN If answers to Elizabeth's questions were to be found within Longbourn's borders,
she certainly should have encountered them the following morning. She walked ou
t at first light, having once again slept fitfully, and wandered long through the familiar meadows and wood- lands. She remained at a loss to interpret Mr. Darcy's intentions in reuniting Mr. Bi
ngley and Jane, but more perplexing by far was his astonishing call at Longbou
rn yesterday. Teasing, teasing man! What did he mean by paying such a visit? Certainly, he had
not expected to encounter her there, and indeed he had seemed as disconcerted b
y their chance meeting as she. She allowed herself to consider for the first time that Mr. Darcy might intend t
o renew his addresses to her. If this was the case, then once again he seemed de
termined to eschew any traditionally accepted means of courtship. Perhaps he mea
nt to ingratiate himself with her family and allow them to persuade her where he
could not. Even as these thoughts entered her mind, Elizabeth was wont to decry them as imp
ossibilities. Mr. Darcy had made his disdain for all matrimonial scheming perfec
tly clear some days ago, and, as Mr. Bennet had so innocuously noted yesterday
, the gentleman's character was nothing if not constant. Her influence on him co
uld not be so great as that! Supposing such a transformation were within her power to effect, and Mr. Darcy d
id renew his suit through such measures-Elizabeth did not know whether she would
embrace or despise him for it. His unwavering character was not the sole sour
ce of her affection, but it was the origin of her esteem. Pemberley itself had a
cquainted her with his basic decency many months past. But if Mr. Darcy could al
ter this integrity at will, to justify interference in a friend's affairs or to
suit his own amorous objectives, any respect or love built upon that foundation
must necessarily collapse. She had turned into the lane that would lead her back to Longbourn, when a lone
rider on a dark mount approached from an adjacent path, causing her some alarm.
She turned to retreat into the cover of woods, but she heard her name pronounced
distinctly, in an unmistakable voice. Mr. Darcy did not dismount, but approache
d her from the imposing height of horseback. He extended a gloved hand and prof-
fered her a letter, and she accepted it instinctively. "I have been waiting in the lane for some time in hopes of meeting you," he said
. "Will you do me the honor of reading that letter?" 30 She nodded mutely, studying the sealed paper in her hand, and looked up to encou
nter his intense gaze a mere instant before he turned his horse and rode off in
the direction of Meryton. Elizabeth watched his figure retreat into the distance, and then she broke the l
etter's seal with fumbling fingers to discover two pages closely written in Mr.
Darcy's elegant hand. Be not alarmed, Miss Bennet, upon receiving this letter, by the apprehension of
its containing any renewal of unwelcome sentiments or undue demands on your forb
earance. I am cognizant that my behavior of the past week-reuniting my friend wi
th your sister and making an unannounced call on your father-must bear a strong
resemblance to the type of artful cunning I once injudiciously ascribed to your
character. It is my hope to assure you in these pages that by these actions I in
tend no imposition of my will upon your own. I will not deny that your refusal of my addresses at Hunsford, and the words in
which you articulated your denial, caused me no small degree of pain. I have com
e to accept, however, that your reproofs were no more than my due. You accused m
e of two offenses that evening, and while I must own my culpability in each ca
se, I have since taken measures to remedy them. I do so not with hopes of influe
ncing your emotions, but out of concern for my close friend's happiness and an a
dmittedly selfish desire to assuage my own regret. My first offense against you was my part in separating Mr. Bingley from your sis
ter. As I told you a week ago, I believed my actions to be in his own best inter
est. I have seen my friend fall in and out of love many times, and though his qu
iet suffering for some months has since been a testament to the strength of his
emotions, at the time he gave no indication that his attachment to your sister w
as deeper than any of his previous infatuations. For reasons I shall explain lat
er in these pages, I likewise believed that your sister harbored no real feel- i
ngs for him, and I did not wish to see my friend trapped in a marriage without affection. The best motives, of course, do not excuse my stoo
ping to employ deceit, and for this I offer no justification, but only sincere a
pology. My second offense, while equally grievous to the first, I fear cannot be expunge
d by even the most heartfelt of apologies. You accused me, quite justly, of poss
essing an incomplete understanding of your own character, even as I claimed to hold you in a most passi
onate regard. If my feelings were motivated by a true knowledge of your innermos
t spirit, you argued, I could not possibly think you capable of employing arts i
n pursuit of a husband. In my own defense on both charges, I first must explain that my impressions, how
ever wrong they may have been, were not formed on the basis of your own behavior
, but rather from my observations of your family, most particularly your mother. In truth, I belie
ved you to be wholly indifferent to me and a most unwilling participant in any d
esigns on my fortune. Mrs. Bennet's plans for your sister and Mr. Bingley were no secret from anyone i
n Hertfordshire, it seemed. On the evening of the Netherfield Ball, however, I
chanced to overhear your mother speaking to you as your party awaited the car-
riages. Believe me, madam, when I state that I am not in the habit of intentiona
lly eavesdropping, but rather your mother's voice reached my hearing. The conten
t of her comments to?you revealed her expectations that both you and Miss Bennet
would soon be engaged. Miss Bennet's consistently placid demeanor toward my fri
end, combined with the persuading Mrs. Bennet deemed you to require on the subje
ct of marriage, convinced me that neither you nor your sister desired the expe
cted proposals. I now know, of course, that in your case Mrs. Bennet referred to
Mr. Collins-but you can easily imagine me in possession of such vanity as to pr
esume myself to be her second target. You might rightly inquire, then, why I would make such addresses to you when I b
elieved you held me in no special regard. To this, I can offer no defense but a
selfish surrender to the utmost force of passion. In my ardor and arrogance, I s
ought to conquer your will by the strength of my own. If?my declarations of affe
ction were insufficient to persuade you, I assumed the pecuniary advantages of t
he match would overcome any remaining reluctance. Such presumption was beneath m
e and insulting to you, and I dare not ask your forgiveness for such behavior. I
will never forgive it of myself. Having admitted my guilt in both of these cases, and accepted your just reproach
es as my due, my thoughts and energy were immediately consumed by a desire to re
solve both matters, such as it remained within my power to do so. The first of my offenses is the one more easily remedied. When our conversation
revealed to me the extent of my misunderstanding with regard to your sister's
feelings, I soon regretted my interference in Mr. Bingley's affairs. I would lik
e to claim that some altruistic concern for his happiness was my greatest moti
vation, but I fear that my eagerness to redeem my actions was spurred more by th
e depths of my own suffering. If I could do nothing to relieve my own misery, at
least I might occasion an improvement in my friend's similar plight. I therefore returned to London at my earliest opportunity and wasted no time in
acquainting Mr. Bingley with my duplici- tous actions and vain interference. Thi
s most unpleasant conversation was made slightly easier, however, by the pleas
ure I was able to give him in relating that, contrary to all my earlier supposit
ions, Miss Bennet appeared to return his affections. I could not promise him tha
t her feelings remained unaltered these five months, but I could offer him reaso
n to hope. The remainder of the resolution I would, for once, leave completely to his own discr
etion. I believe my friend has since acquitted himself quite admirably, to the g
reat happiness of both parties. Now to address the second of my transgressions, the more painful to my own heart
of the two, and the one less readily mended. When you dismissed me from the par
sonage that evening, you told me we were little more than strangers to?one anoth
er, and that my impressions of your disposition were wholly mistaken. Although I
hope the contents of this letter have convinced you that I did not hold you in
such low esteem as you imagined then, I cannot deny that I was guilty of your ac
cusation in spirit, if not in particulars. For in this you were undoubtedly correct-had I taken the time and effort?to become thoroughly ac
quainted with you and not allowed my perception to be clouded by prejudice, I wo
uld have done greater credit to us both. My shame at having neglected, on?so man
y occasions, to more fully inform my opinion of your character and improve our m
utual understanding is profound, and only surpassed by regret at having acted so
thoughtlessly as to destroy all future opportunities for the same. This regret, then, was my true motivation for visiting Longbourn yesterday. Upon
my return to London, plans were quickly set in motion for me and my sister to r
eturn to Pemberley-a homecoming long overdue for us both. When Mr. Bingley expre
ssed his intention to alert the staff at Netherfield to prepare for his imminent
arrival, I offered my services as courier, although the duty could have been pe
r- formed by a servant just as readily and my own travels were necessarily delay
ed. The prospect of being so near your home, and in some small way nearer to you
, compelled me. I cannot fully describe the sensation of being admitted to Longbourn yesterday,
after several months' absence. The house was smaller than I remembered it from t
he exterior, yet somehow grander from within. Inside, it was unexpectedly quie
t, although not still. The atmosphere in each small chamber was not stagnant, bu
t alive with energy and industry and echoed laughter-as if the walls had breath
and life all their own. When I was admitted to your father's library (and I must apologize for the rud
e shock my presence must have caused him), a teacup rested on his desk, and my e
yes immediately went to the small, knob-handled drawer that I instinctively knew
once housed an ill-fated frog. Standing before the shelves of books and scannin
g their titles, I could imagine you in the exact same place, searching for a wel
l-loved volume or awaiting the assignment of lines as punishment. In truth, in acquainting myself with th
e contents of your father's collection, I felt I could trace the genealogy of yo
ur remarkable intellect, and the discovery of our many shared ancestors was bitt
ersweet. Even after my brief discourse with Mr. Bennet, I found myself loath to quit Long
bourn altogether and tarried in the garden 3? for some time. The sound of blackbirds drew my gaze to their nest, and, recallin
g your expressed fondness for their chatter, I realized that the niche of their
chamber was the window?to your own. When you happened upon me, I had just been a
ppreciating the aroma of apple blossoms and lavender concentrated in that small
garden, and wondering by what extraordinary means their fragrance had followed y
ou the fifty miles to Kent. It is not my intention to pain or embarrass you by providing this faithful accou
nt of my most intimate feelings and actions. However, as you some days ago decla
red yourself incapable?of deceiving me, I seem to have likewise lost the ability
to disguise my own emotions from you. I wish only to impart how my estimation o
f you multiplied during that short hour at Longbourn, and to express my regret f
or remaining so untouched on previous visits to that place. Have no fear, how- e
ver, that the liberty I take in expressing such sentiments will ever escape the
margins of these pages. I cannot forget your words to me that evening at the parsonage, when you express
ed such utter surprise at my declarations. 'I felt fortunate enough to call you
friend, without hopes of a deeper attachment,' you said. In the happy event that
Mr. Bingley has cause to invite me to Netherfield some months hence (and I imag
ine you know as well as I that such cause is a near certainty), I would not wish you to be ill at ease, or fear any renewa
l of undesirable attentions from my quarter. When next we meet, it is I who should feel fortunate to be greeted as a friend,
without hopes of a deeper attachment. I will only add, God bless you. Fitzwilliam Darcy "O Chapter 10 LONGBOURN, A WEEK LATER h, Jane-how lovely!" Elizabeth admired the gold and sapphire ring cradled in Jan
e's palm and noted with pleasure how both jewel and owner sparkled brilliantly,
even in the dim 32 candlelight of her sister's bedchamber.?"I shall be so relieved when Mr. Bingley
has spoken to Papa and I can wear it always," Jane said, slipping the ring onto her finger. "Carryi
ng it knotted in my handkerchief has caused me such anxiety, Lizzy-you would thi
nk I am succumb- ing to Mama's nervous condition! I cannot help checking a dozen
times an hour to make certain it has not disappeared." Elizabeth smiled and squeezed her sister's bejeweled hand. "You owe me a great d
ebt, Jane, and I have not forgotten it. I must hear all details of this swift courtship, and most especially Mr. Bingley
's proposal!" "Oh, but where shall I begin?" "Begin with the day you wrote me the letter, for that is the last proper report
I have had of the matter." "Yes, my letter. It seems so long ago now-and to think, it has been less than tw
o weeks! Shortly after I finished my letter to you, Charles-'Mr. Bingley' then-c
alled as he had promised. At first, I felt every bit as anxious and hesi- tant a
s the day before, but before long we were conversing easily on all manner of top
ics. In truth, it felt as though we had never been parted." Elizabeth smiled. "I daresay you never were-not at heart." "The next evening," Jane continued with a blush, "Mr. Bingley had invited us all
to dine at his townhouse. I need not tell you how I dreaded meeting Miss Bingle
y again, but she greeted us with perfect civility. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were also
in attendance. I cannot say that the evening was passed in perfect amiability, b
ut I was gratified to find the ladies' demeanor toward me markedly improved when
compared to our last meeting." A change no doubt effected by their brother, Elizabeth thought, silently praisin
g Mr. Bingley's success in checking his sisters' haughty behavior. "In fact, Lizzy," Jane giggled, "there was one moment in the evening I believe y
ou would have enjoyed immensely. Upon our arrival, Mr. Bingley offered to give u
s a tour of his house. I could see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanging disa
pproving glances, but Mr. Bingley was undeterred. It is a lovely house, Lizzy. I
t is large, but not so grand as to be overwhelming, and the rooms are very fashi
onably appointed throughout." "I imagine Miss Bingley would have it no other way." "Indeed. We entered one room toward the back-a breakfast room with large windo
ws overlooking the garden, with lovely flowered wallpaper and more modest furnis
hings than seen in other parts of the house. Mr. Bingley explained they were pie
ces brought from his family's ancestral home in the North. The room was so comfo
rtable and inviting, it reminded me instantly of Longbourn, and I expressed my d
elight with it rather unrestrainedly. Miss Bingley quickly denounced it as a pla
in, unpleasant place and declared her intention to remake it into French-styled
salon, as soon as her brother would allow her the funds." "And what did Mr. Bingley say?"?Jane smiled. "He said, 'Caroline, my concern is
not your tendency to deplete my accounts, but your determination to bankrupt the soul of
this home.' He went on to deem it his favorite room, praising all the same featu
res I had admired, and he declared that no one would be allowed to alter it in t
he slightest, so long as he remained master of the house. I wish you could have
been there to see the look on her face." "Like a cat with a saucer of spoilt cream, I imagine." "Very like," Jane laughed. "She said little to me for the remainder of the eveni
ng, but I cannot say I missed her conversation. Charles was so polite and attent
ive, so anxious to please-we could not give him enough assurances as to our en
joyment of the dishes served or our comfort in his home. It was a truly wonderfu
l evening, and I wished it would never end." "Yes, yes, but it did," Elizabeth prompted impatiently. "And then...?" "Before we left, he asked if he might call again the next day, and so he did. Th
is time, Miss Bingley accompanied him, for motives which must be hers alone to c
omprehend." "Oh, I can comprehend them easily," Elizabeth said. "If she could not prevent he
r brother from seeing you, at least she did not intend to let him out of her sig
ht!" "You are correct, Lizzy, I am certain. Fortunately, Miss Bingley had not counted
on the cleverness of our dear Aunt Gardiner! It was a fine morning, and our aun
t suggested taking a turn about the park. Mr. Bingley and I agreed so readily, M
iss Bingley could not object. No sooner had we left the house than Aunt Gardiner
drew Miss Bingley into close confidence, asking her advice on re-decorating her
parlor. With our aunt inquiring so persistently into her opinions on fabrics an
d wallpapers and draperies, Miss Bingley completely failed to notice when Mr. Bi
ngley and I fell behind." Jane rose from the bed and began to pace the room slow
ly. "Mr. Bingley inquired as to how long I would remain in London, and when I told h
im I planned to return to Hertfordshire with you only two days later, a strange
expression crossed his face. He remained silent for some time. When he finally spoke, it was to remark on his own desire to return to Netherfie
ld shortly. I tried to express in friendly terms that the neighborhood had lamen
ted his absence and would certainly rejoice should he decide to return." Jane ceased her pacing and
buried her face in her hands. In the next moment, however, her gleaming eyes and
bashful smile peeked out from behind splayed fingers. "Oh, Lizzy-I hardly know how to describe what happened next! Mr. Bingley sudde
nly stopped in the path and began to make the most fervent declarations to me-in
the middle of a public park, no less! He told me he loved me, and that he had l
oved me since we first met last year. He said he could not allow me to return to
Longbourn without ascertaining my feelings and knowing whether I might ever be
persuaded to accept his hand in marriage. I cannot begin to describe how I felt
in that moment-I blushed so deeply my cheeks burned with it, and my hands trembl
ed dreadfully until Charles took them in his own." Elizabeth smiled. If Jane only knew how closely she could sympathize with her em
otions in that situation! "I still do not know how I managed the composure to do so, but I found words eno
ugh to assure him that my feelings were much the same, and that nothing would
make me happier than to be his wife. And, Lizzy-I never spoke truer words, for e
ver since that moment, I have known myself to be the happiest creature on God'
s earth! To think that such happiness almost slipped through our grasp-I cannot
comprehend it. How indebted we are to Mr. Darcy! Without his friendship, we might never have been reunited." At this mention of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth could no longer maintain her cheerful ex
pression. Jane noted her change in demeanor and immediately went to her side. "Lizzy, whatever is the matter?" "Oh, Jane-I have such a tale to tell you. How I have dearly wished to borrow aga
inst your patience and sweet disposition these past weeks! But I fear I cannot u
nburden my own heart without causing yours some pain." "Does what you have to tell me involve Mr. Bingley being secretly engaged to ano
ther?" "No," Elizabeth said, laughing through her distress. "Then my heart is perfectly safe," Jane said. "Whatever you have to tell me, it
could not possibly endanger my joy." "You know already, of course, that I encountered Mr. Darcy in Kent," she began s
lowly. In terms no less animated than those of her sister, but decidedly less ec
static, Elizabeth recounted the history of their interactions at Rosings. She de
scribed his initial cold greeting, the development of their tenuous friendship,
and, finally, the astonishing revelations of Colonel Fitzwilliam. In as terms as
delicate as truth allowed, she acquainted Jane with the details of Mr. Darcy'
s role in convincing Mr. Bingley to leave Hertfordshire and concealing Jane's pr
esence in town. She watched her sister's expression carefully. Jane grew pale, b
ut remained composed and silent. The color returned to Jane's face as Elizabeth described Mr. Darcy's proposal, a
nd how the sentiments he avowed were as equally shocking to her as his bluntly e
xpressed cen- 33 sure of their family. She described her confusion upon receiving Jane's news a
nd her most unexpected meeting with Mr. Darcy at Longbourn. She could not bring
herself to read his letter aloud, but she summarized the explanations and apolog
ies offered therein. "So you see, Jane," she finished wearily, "you may wish to revise your opinion o
f Mr. Darcy, now that you know the extent of his interference and deceit." "Certainly I shall revise my opinion of him, but in more ways than you imply. Ho
w shocking to think that he has been in love with you all this time, Lizzy! And
to know that you developed such regard and affection for him, but neither suspec
ted the other's true feelings until the situation was hopelessly mired in misund
erstanding!" "Thank you, Jane, for such gentle comfort," Elizabeth sniffed wryly, dabbing at
her eyes with Jane's handkerchief. "Lizzy, I do not mean to make light of your s
uffering. It is only that I cannot help but note what close resemblance your unh
appy situation bears to my own miserable state a few weeks ago. But recent event
s have taught me that hope is never in vain, and no situation is beyond repair. Mr. Darcy loves you st
ill-his letter confirms it." "It confirms no such thing!" Elizabeth cried. "He explic- itly states his wish t
o be friends and nothing more." "He wishes only as much as he dares hope receive. Do you not see, Lizzy, that on
ly respect for your feelings prevents him from fully expressing his true sentime
nts? With the slightest encouragement from you, I have no doubt that he would re
new his addresses." "His respect for my feelings...but I hardly understand them, myself! When I lear
ned of his guilt in inflicting such misery upon you, I was consumed with anger.
Then I received his letter. In it, he credibly defends the misunderstanding at
the root of his interference, and his quick actions to remedy the mistake speak
well on his behalf. I cannot deny that reading it has somewhat appeased my re-
sentment. Still, he acted so wrongly and with such arrogant disregard for your f
eelings-I do not know that I can ever forgive him!" "But you must forgive him, Lizzy, for I have done so already." "Jane, you are too good! The happiness you have found with Mr. Bingley is truly
the just result of your angelic disposition. If only you could teach me how it i
s done, to forgive so freely and easily, without harboring the slightest trace o
f rancor-but I know such sweetness can never be learnt." "Then put aside sweetness, Lizzy, and let your reason guide your heart. You your
self have stated that Mr. Darcy's reasons for interfering were credible. That Ma
ma's behavior should give such an appearance of scheming comes as no surprise.
Should we be amazed, then, that her brazen conduct left a stronger impression o
n Mr. Darcy than our own attempts to maintain propriety? He did not wish to see
his friend unhappily matched; for my part, I am glad that 34 Charles has a friend so concerned for his contentment. I have already forgiven M
iss Bingley for her part in our separation. She is to be my sister, and we mus
t learn to accept one another. How much easier, then, to forgive Mr. Darcy with
his more honorable motives?" "Miss Bingley is not to be my sister, fortunately, and I therefore feel no oblig
ation to forgive her. At least her du- plicitous behavior proceeds logically fro
m her character. Such is not the case with Mr. Darcy, whom by every report and a
ppearance I believed to be a man above such deceitful activity. I am disgusted b
y Miss Bingley; I am disappointed in Mr. Darcy. His demeanor was often proud, bu
t the manner in which everyone praised him, my own observations of his generos
ity, and, I must own, his very beautiful grounds at Pemberley-all conspired to c
reate the portrait of an ideal gentleman. Now his actions in this matter have sh
at- tered that ideal. Until I understand whether my regard and affections were i
nspired by the ideal or the man himself, I shall not know how to think of him." Jane drew her into a comforting embrace and smoothed her hair. "Do not distress
yourself so. The truth lies nowhere but within your heart, Lizzy, and time will
reveal it to you." Elizabeth pulled away from her sister and attempted a smile. This was a time to
celebrate her sister's happiness, and she did not wish to further burden Jane wi
th her own selfish concerns. "You are surely right. Thank you, Jane." "I must warn you, Lizzy," Jane teased, the blush of love stealing back into her
cheeks, "Do not take overlong in dis- cerning that truth. For Mr. Darcy has alre
ady agreed to stand up for Charles at the wedding, and Charles has made clear hi
s desire to have the briefest possible engagement!" 2MR. BINGLEY AND PARTY did indeed arrive at Netherfield the following day, and th
e gentleman wasted no time in calling on Mr. Bennet that very afternoon. All Lon
gbourn held its breath during their brief consultation behind the closed doors o
f Mr. Bennet's library. During that quiet half- hour, the house enjoyed its last
prolonged silence for some weeks. Soon enough the Bennet family, led by their e
ffu- sive matriarch, were aflutter with celebration and wedding plans. The wedding date was set for early June-scarcely more than six weeks hence, and
Mrs. Bennet was beset with an attack of nerves at the idea of preparing for such
an occasion in so short a time. Elizabeth, too, would have preferred a longer e
ngagement, although for entirely different reasons. The weeks passed quickly enough in a flurry of shopping and preparations. Kitty
and Lydia continued to be besotted with the local regiment, and several of the o
fficers, Denny and Wickham among them, called frequently at Longbourn. Elizabeth
had little patience for the nonsensical flirtation that filled the parlor on these occasions and excused herself from such gatherin
gs whenever possible. The only event that threatened to disturb Longbourn's reign of euphoria was the
announcement that the regiment would be moving camp to Brighton for the summer.
Lydia was invited by Mrs. Forster to accompany her there, and was none too pleas
ed that the dreadfully boring occasion of Jane's wedding prevented her from acce
pting. Elizabeth kept herself occupied by assisting with preparations and devising wa
ys to grant Jane and Mr. Bingley brief respites from her mother, but even this b
usy schedule somehow left untold hours for contemplating Mr. Darcy. She read his
letter so often that the paper wore translucent at the creases from repeated fo
lding and unfolding. Before long, she knew it completely by heart. With time and
the happy influence of Jane and Mr. Bingley's obvious bliss, she focused less a
nd less on the letter's beginning and found herself returning frequently to its
closing paragraphs. It was a comfort and a compliment to know that Mr. Darcy did understand her char
acter better than she had believed, and to understand that he esteemed her not f
or trivial 'accomplishments,' but for the development of her mind and the source
of her spirit. If he had made the effort to come to Longbourn, even after her c
old refusal, and look upon her home with open eyes and an open mind, perhaps the
least she owed him was the same fresh start. When next we meet, it is I who should feel fortunate to be greeted as a friend,
without hopes of a deeper attachment. He asked little enough from her, but the q
uestion remained- was friendship more or less than she wished to extend? She had
settled that to greet Mr. Darcy with unbiased civility was her duty. What remai
ned uncertain, however, was her desire. 2SLIGHTLY LESS THAN TWO weeks before the wedding, Jane and Elizabeth sat with the
ir mother in the parlor, anticipat- ing Mr. Bingley's usual morning call. Elizab
eth searched her mind for a new piece of neighborhood gossip or some matter of
the wedding breakfast menu-any topic with which she might distract her mother a
nd thereby afford Jane and Mr. Bingley a few moments' privacy. The hour of Mr. Bingley's habitual arrival came and went, and the sisters began
to speculate that some matter of business had detained him. After waiting the
better part of an hour, they entertained the idea of taking a turn in the gar- d
en. The prospect of enjoying a fine May morning outdoors held increasing appeal,
and they were almost decided upon it, when the sound of approaching hoofbeats d
rew Mrs. Bennet to the window. "There he is at last! Only there is another gentleman with him. Heavens! It look
s just like that tall, proud man that used to be with him. The wealthy one, from
Derbyshire." "Mr. Darcy," Jane and Elizabeth answered in unison, exchanging glances of alar
m as Mrs. Bennet called frantically for extra tea things. The result was that th
e gentlemen entered amidst a bustle of harried servants and clattering tea- cu
ps and never were properly announced. "Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet rushed to greet her future son- in-law. "How glad we
are to see you at last! We were quite beside ourselves with concern when you did
not arrive at your usual hour, you know! I said to my girls, Mr. Bingley is the
soul of punctuality, as he is everything gentlemanly, and if he has missed his
appointed time to call, then we may be assured that he is either detained by bus
iness of the highest importance, or he has been befallen by some dreadful circ
umstance!" Here she paused and regarded Mr. Darcy, as though uncertain to which
category he belonged. Throughout her mother's excessive display, Elizabeth had slowly gathered the ner
ve to turn her gaze toward Mr. Darcy. When at last she was able to glimpse his c
ountenance, she viewed with relief that it was characteristically composed, an
d what little emotion he displayed resembled amusement rather than offense. "Of course," Mrs. Bennet continued, "We know now that you have been welcoming yo
ur visitor. Mr. Darcy, any friend of Mr. Bingley's is always welcome at Longbour
n." Mr. Darcy nodded politely, and upon lifting his head, he met Elizabeth's gaze di
rectly. The unspoken question in his eyes carried clearly across the room. Eliza
beth inhaled deeply and went quickly to her mother's side, wearing her best impr
ession of calm composure. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy," she said clearly, venturing a brave smile in his direction,
"any friend of Mr. Bingley's is a friend of ours, as well." 35 Chapter 11 LONGBOURN, A FEW MINUTES LATER The meeting Elizabeth had both anticipated and feared was quickly over, leaving
little but half-empty teacups to bear witness. For all her weeks of wor- rying
over how to comport herself in Mr. Darcy's company, the gentlemen stayed only a short time, as they were bound for London d
irectly. Mr. Bingley explained, so much as Mrs. Bennet's voluble lamentation wou
ld allow, that Mr. Darcy had arrived in advance of the wedding in order to accom
pany him to town for a few days. The gentlemen would see to the final wedding
settlements with Mr. Bingley's solicitor, and Mr. Darcy had additional business
of his own to conduct, having been away from town this past month. Mr. Darcy attended to the conversation politely, but as was his usual manner, he
himself spoke little. During one close conference between Jane, Mr. Bingley and
Mrs. Bennet on some matter of the upcoming ceremony, he drew near to Elizabeth
and offered his teacup for refilling. She complied slowly, anxious that her hand
s should not tremble and Mr. Darcy be scalded for his efforts. "Did you arrive just this morning, Mr. Darcy?" "Yesterday afternoon," he said. "My sister traveled with me from Pemberley." "Indeed? I hope she is well." "Yes, thank you." The business of tea-pouring concluded, there seemed little rea
son for him to continue looming over her. Perhaps cognizant of the same fact, Mr
. Darcy proceeded to spoon an alarming amount of sugar into his cup, stirring
slowly between each spoonful. Elizabeth was quite certain she had never seen him
take sugar in any beverage before. "WouldIbetooforwardtoaskasmallfavorofyou,Miss Bennet?" Elizabeth regarded him quizzically, but nodded slightly in encouragement. "Might I ask you and your sister to call on Georgiana at Netherfield in my absen
ce? I would prefer to introduce her to you myself, but she is most anxious to me
et you both. If it pleases you, I believe Miss Bingley may be relied upon to mak
e the necessary introductions." "Yes, and you may rely upon us to get along exceedingly well despite her." Eliza
beth's arch smile was rewarded with an expression of warm gratitude. "It will be
our pleasure to make Miss Darcy's acquaintance." "Thank you." He bowed politely and resumed his place by the window, setting his
cup of tea on a nearby table, where 36 it remained untouched until the gentlemen took their leave. Later, as Elizabeth
stood at the same window and watched them depart, she picked up the tea and sipp
ed it gingerly. It was, as she suspected, thick as syrup and completely un- drin
kable. 2JANE AND ELIZABETH CALLED on the ladies of Netherfield the following day. They w
ere ushered into the salon, where Miss Bingley welcomed them with warmer spirit
than usual and made a great show of introducing them to her dear friend, Miss
Darcy. With her rather advanced height and slender build, the young lady resembl
ed her brother more in bearing than in countenance. She was as fair as he was da
rk; her features naturally soft, where his might be called stern. Elizabeth judged quickly that Mr. Darcy had not overes- timated his sister's ten
dency toward reserve. Demure greetings having been exchanged, she appeared per
fectly content to assume the role of silent spectator. Certainly, Miss Bingley spoke sufficiently for both, pre- empting every question
posed to Miss Darcy with an ingra- tiating remark. Whatever affection existed b
etween the two ladies appeared to be all on Miss Bingley's side, however. While Miss Darcy tolerated an undue measure of physical closeness from Miss Bing
ley and made politely deferent replies when prompted, she regarded the lady wi
th amused indifference. Miss Bingley clearly had no wish to share her pet, but Jane and Elizabeth persis
ted in their attempts to draw Miss Darcy into conversation. Their efforts were r
ewarded by the young lady's increasingly willing replies. Elizabeth was happy
to make Miss Darcy's acquaintance for its own merits, but observing Miss Bingley
rankle at their quick rapport provided additional inducement. "Did your companion not travel with you, Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth asked. Miss Darcy shook her head. "My brother gave Mrs. Annesley leave to visit her own
relations while we are here in Hertfordshire." "As well he should," Miss Bingley said, patting Miss Darcy's hand superiorly. "Y
ou will suffer no lack of companionship at Netherfield." Elizabeth felt a great deal of pity for Miss Darcy, having experienced first-h
and the stimulating society afforded by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst during her o
wn stay at Netherfield. "Yes, Miss Darcy," she said, "I believe you will find th
e neighborhood in general to offer many pleasant diversions, and you shall hav
e many opportunities to form new acquaintances, if you wish. Our own youngest si
sters are close to your age, as is one of our nearest neighbors, Miss Maria Luca
s." "I should be very pleased to meet your sisters, Miss Elizabeth. My brother has s
poken very warmly of your family." Miss Bingley snorted in disbelief. "Miss Darcy, do not allow Miss Eliza to raise
your expectations excessively. You will find country society quite different fr
om your circle in London." "One may hope," Miss Darcy replied. She spoke sweetly enough, but her complace
nt smile strongly recalled her brother. It seemed the Darcys, by family rule, su
ffered flattery most unwillingly. Considering how her arch teasing and forthri
ght opinions had so improbably engendered Mr. Darcy's affection, Elizabeth suppo
sed his sister might also respond favorably to a more informal approach. If only
Miss Darcy could escape the confines of Netherfield and Miss Bingley's cloying
companionship! Elizabeth invited the three ladies to visit Longbourn the next day, suggesting t
hey walk to Meryton together so that Miss Darcy might become acquainted with the
town. Miss Bingley looked less than pleased with this proposed outing, but had
no method of polite refusal at her disposal, especially in the face of Miss Da
rcy's marked enthusiasm. Plans made and hour appointed, the Misses Bennet took t
heir leave. They spent the ride home discussing Miss Darcy in appreciative terms
."She is a bit shy," Elizabeth said to her sister. "But who would behave differen
tly, given Miss Bingley and a paid companion for her closest confidantes? Her se
nse and good nature are evident; she wants only encouragement. I am sure Miss Da
rcy will prove perfectly delightful on further acquaintance." "Much like her brother?" Jane asked slyly. Elizabeth refused to oblige her wit
h an answer. 2THE LADIES OF LONGBOURN waited patiently the following morning for the ladies
of Netherfield to make their appearance. At length, the carriage that approach
ed from the lane was not the familiar one of Mr. Bingley, but an even grander co
nveyance in both style and size. To Elizabeth and Jane's great surprise, Miss Da
rcy alone descended from the carriage and approached the house. A servant showed
her into the sitting room, and Jane introduced the impeccably attired young lad
y to Mrs. Bennet, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. "I am so pleased to make your acquaintance," Miss Darcy said softly. "But where are Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst?" Elizabeth asked once all were seate
d. Miss Darcy's cheeks flushed pink. "At breakfast, Miss Bingley complained of a he
adache, and Mrs. Hurst claimed to be quite fatigued. They wished to cancel our e
ngagement." "They suggested that you come by yourself, unescorted?" Jane was incredulous. "No," Miss Darcy replied with a shy satisfaction. "It was my idea. I was so disa
ppointed at the thought of breaking our appointment. As you see, my own family's
coach and horses are also at Netherfield. I simply spoke to the footman to re
quest they be readied, and then I came by myself." Upon viewing the Bennet lad
ies' disbelieving expressions, Miss Darcy's blush deepened. "Have I acted wron
gly? Please do not tell my brother. He might find my impulsive behavior reason f
or reproach." Elizabeth moved closer to reassure the young lady, who upon arrival had been bur
sting with pleasure and now seemed close to tears. "Miss Darcy, we are delighted
to have you join us this morning. Please do not concern yourself. It is but thr
ee miles of country road, not the dark alleys of London-and here you have arrive
d, completely unharmed. As for your brother, I imagine he would credit your com-
mitment to honoring our engagement. He wishes only your happiness-of this, I am
certain-and we may best oblige him by enjoying our outing to the fullest." Miss Darcy's smile was all relief and gratitude. In truth, Elizabeth was not at
all certain that Mr. Darcy would approve of his sister's actions, or her own w
ords of reassurance. However, no harm had come to Miss Darcy, and the gentlema
n need never hear of the particular circumstances of his sister's visit. To be s
ure, Miss Bingley would not own to letting Miss Darcy slip unnoticed from Nether
field. Jane wisely suggested, however, that Miss Darcy's coach be sent back to N
etherfield with a note for Miss Bingley informing her of Miss Darcy's visit. Som
eone from Longbourn would see her back later in the day, so she would not once a
gain travel unescorted. The note and coach having been dispatched, the ladies thus began the pleasant wa
lk to Meryton. They stopped briefly by Lucas Lodge, where they were joined by Ma
ria Lucas. Maria, Lydia, and Kitty led their procession to town, closely follo
wed by Mary, who was as usual relegated to the fringes of their conversation. Ja
ne and Elizabeth, on either side of Miss Darcy, brought up the rear. They kept u
p a polite discourse for the duration of the journey, but Elizabeth thought she
noticed Miss Darcy envying the younger group's merry laughter. When they reached town, she encouraged Kitty and Lydia to personally acquaint Mi
ss Darcy with their favorite shops. "Will you attend the Lucases' ball, Miss Darcy?" Kitty asked, threading her arm
through Miss Darcy's and steer- ing her toward the millinery. "I am not aware of any such invitation." "Oh, but you must come!" Lydia grasped Miss Darcy's free hand. "It is a farewell
for the officers of the ______shire Regiment. They have been stationed here for
many months, but now they are bound for Brighton," she said glumly. "Please do join us, Miss Darcy," chimed Maria Lucas. "I know my father has invit
ed Mr. Bingley and all his guests to attend. You will be most welcome." 37 Miss Darcy looked a bit overwhelmed at the center of this persuasive trio, but a
lso pleased. "It sounds delightful, thank you. But I do not think my brother wou
ld allow me to attend. I am not yet out in society." Lydia dismissed her objections with a snort. "I am glad we do not have brothers,
if they would be as stern as yours. I am younger than you, and I would not sit
at home for a dozen fine carriages!" "Lydia!" Jane reprimanded, pulling her sister from Miss Darcy's side. Elizabeth
gently intervened. "It is but a small country assembly, Miss Darcy-a far cry from London society. I
f you wish to come, Jane could ask Mr. Bingley to speak with Mr. Darcy. Perhaps
he will allow you to attend, so long as you do not dance." Miss Darcy looked doubtful. "I would be much obliged to Miss Bennet, but I dare
not expect any concession from my brother. He is very protective." "As would be any guardian so devoted to his charge. If he refuses to allow it, o
f course everyone will understand. But there can be no harm in asking." It did n
ot escape Elizabeth's attention that Miss Darcy's presence at the Lucases' ball
would necessitate her brother's. She was therefore a bit puzzled by her own de
termination to press the issue. The two balls Mr. Darcy had previously attended
had proved distressingly awkward affairs. Reason argued she would enjoy this eve
nt far better in his absence, but some irrational part of her would not be convi
nced. The ladies left the shop and, upon entering the street, met immediately with a p
air of red-coated officers-none other than the Bennet family favorites, Mr. Denn
y and Mr. Wickham.?"Misses Bennet, Miss Lucas! What a delightful coincidence." Mr. Denny bowed gallantly.?"Can it be?" asked his friend. "Miss Georgian
a Darcy, here in Meryton?"?Elizabeth watched Miss Darcy's reaction closely as she encountered Mr. Wickham. Whatever acrimony existed between her brother and the m
an, she did not appear party to it. Their greeting was warm and familiar, and it
seemed Mr. Wickham had not exaggerated when he claimed an intimate connection
with the Darcy family. Lydia quickly sidled up to Mr. Wickham and brazenly presented her hand for a kis
s. He complied, though less eagerly than was his wont. "Good day, Miss Lydia. I was not aware that you claimed Miss Darcy among your ac
quaintances." "Oh, but we have only been introduced today! But you know one another already, I
forgot. To think, if not for her brother, you would not be here in Meryton with
the regiment-Lord, what a laugh!" Miss Darcy looked puzzled; Wickham, ill at ease. Lydia's oblivious twittering ma
sked all discomfiture, however, and Mr. Wickham deftly changed the topic of conv
ersation. "Pray, ladies, what is our errand today? Bonnets? Handkerchiefs?" He flashed his
charming smile in Jane's 38 direction. "Perhaps Miss Bennet seeks items to complete her trousseau." Lydia answered for her sister. "Oh Lord, no! Jane has had all her things from Lo
ndon shops." "To be sure," Wickham replied smoothly. "Of course, the future Mrs. Bingley requ
ires a finer selection than Meryton can offer." "Meryton goods would be perfectly sufficient to my needs," Jane assured him, "bu
t my dear aunt was kind enough to take me shopping in town." "I do hope your aunt took you to Bond Street," Miss Darcy said. "All my favorite
shops are there-Bond Street merchants carry only the finest wares." "I am sure they do," Jane said, "But we confined ourselves to the shopping distr
ict nearer to my aunt and uncle's home, in Cheapside." Miss Darcy blushed and fell silent, obviously concerned that she had given Jane
offense with her presumption. Jane, of course, felt nothing of the kind and cont
inued gently, "Perhaps, Miss Darcy, when next we are both in London, you might be so kind as t
o acquaint me with your favorite shops there." "Oh, I would like that very much."?It took but an hour for the party to complete
their survey of Meryton. The ladies having made all necessary purchases and several ot
hers besides, Elizabeth suggested that they must take their leave of the officer
s and return to Longbourn. "Do walk with us and stay for tea," Kitty implored Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham. He
r invitation was rapidly sec- onded by Lydia, and Elizabeth and Jane exchanged l
ooks of concern. When Mr. Darcy asked her to make his sister's acquaintance, Eli
zabeth was certain he did not intend gid- dy flirtation with officers to be a su
itable amusement, especially when one of them was a man he plainly held in con
tempt. There seemed no way to rescind the invitation, however. Lydia was already
clinging to Mr. Wickham's left arm as he offered Miss Darcy the right, and the
whole party seemed set on returning to Longbourn together. "Look, Jane!" Kitty cried, standing on tiptoe to peer above the crowd. "Is that
not your Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy with him?" The ladies craned their necks to see for themselves, but soon the crowd parted o
f its own accord as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy approached on horseback, followed
by a driver and team at the helm of a handsome, sparkling-new barouche. It was
as fine a carriage as Elizabeth had ever seen, and for perfect elegance, it app
eared to lack nothing, save passengers. Mr. Wickham cleared his throat and began to extricate his arm from Lydia's grasp
. "Forgive me, ladies, but I have just remembered that Mr. Denny and I have a pr
evious engagement this afternoon. We must beg your leave." He bowed quickly and
disappeared into the crowd, but none of the ladies gave a moment's further thoug
ht to him. All their attention was occupied by the gentlemen and barouche approaching in grand fash
ion. Mr. Bingley dismounted and greeted his intended as af- fectionately as he might
in a public street. "Does it meet with your approval?" he asked, indicating the
barouche. "Oh, it is beautiful! The finest carriage to ever pass down Meryton's streets, I
am sure!" "It is our wedding gift from Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bingley said as his friend dismount
ed and bowed slightly. "Although, perhaps I should call it your gift. Mr. Darcy
made perfectly clear that the carriage is particularly intended for the future M
rs. Bingley's use, that she might not catch her death of cold from traversing th
e countryside on horseback." "How very thoughtful of him," Jane laughed. She turned to Mr. Darcy and curtsied
. "You are too kind, sir." A slight nod was Mr. Darcy's only reply, and Miss Darcy went to greet her brothe
r quietly. "Are you returning to Longbourn?" Mr. Bingley asked. "Allow me to drive you ther
e. I will send my man on to Netherfield with my horse." He handed Jane up onto the driver's box, thus ensu
ring their opportunity for some private discourse during the short journey. He
then turned to assist the other ladies, but here was a quandary-for the barouch
e seated only four, and they were six. At length, it was decided that Kitty, L
ydia, Mary, and Miss Darcy should ride, while Maria Lucas, who had a shorter dis
tance to travel, and Elizabeth, for whom walking was no penalty, would return on
foot. Elizabeth's gaze followed the barouche as the party gaily departed for Longbourn
, and Mr. Darcy's sudden presence at her side took her by surprise. "Miss Bennet, might I have the honor of escorting you and Miss Lucas home?" Elizabeth murmured her assent, and Mr. Darcy joined them as they followed the la
ne out of town. The majority of their walk to Lucas Lodge was passed in silence.
Maria, ever-awed by Mr. Darcy's intimidating presence, found little to say, and
Elizabeth was lost to contemplation. Had Mr. Darcy seen the ladies consorting w
ith Mr. Wickham? Although she did not fully understand the origin or depth of hi
s animosity toward the lieutenant, she felt certain that the sight of his sister
on Mr. Wickham's arm would give Mr. Darcy no joy. To what extent he would fault
Elizabeth for this occurrence, she would rather not imagine. Where the lane forked to Lucas Lodge, Maria gratefully took her leave of them
and hurried on toward home. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy walked on together in silenc
e. Eventually, the weight of uncertainty grew too heavy for Elizabeth to bear, a
nd she felt she must speak. "Your gift to my sister and Mr. Bingley was exceedingly generous," she said, aff
ecting a light tone. "I am only sorry to miss my mother's reaction when they arr
ive at Longbourn in such a grand state." "A carriage is poor compensation for four months of un- happiness," he replied s
olemnly. "It is I who remain in their debt." Elizabeth ignored his serious tone and continued blithely, "What a surprise it w
as for Jane, and for us all, to witness your arrival in Meryton! We had just bee
n acquainting Miss Darcy with the town."?"Yes, so it appeared. Tell me, was Mr. Wickham of great assistance in that endeavor?"?Elizabeth cringed. So he had seen. "We met Mr. Wic
kham and his friend in the street quite unexpectedly, only shortly before you arrived
. Miss Darcy did not seem displeased to encounter him." "My sister has no reason to view him with displeasure." "But clearly, sir, you do." Elizabeth was growing impatient with Mr. Darcy's s
tubborn silence on this subject. When Wickham had first spun his tale of misfort
une at Mr. Darcy's hand, Elizabeth had not credited it for a moment. Callously denying his father's favorite the living bequeathed him-she could not
believe Mr. Darcy capable of such mean behavior. But, she admitted to herself, n
either had she thought him capable of deceiving his close friend. Perhaps she ha
d judged too hastily when she acquitted Mr. Darcy of any cruelty to Mr. Wickham. As though he heard her thoughts, Mr. Darcy slowed his pace and turned to her. "M
r. Wickham was the son of my father's steward. My father was exceedingly fond of
him and paid for his education. It was my father's hope that he would take orde
rs in the Church, and to that end, he bequeathed him a living on our estate." Elizabeth nodded. Thus far, the details did not vary from Mr. Wickham's own stor
y. Mr. Darcy returned his gaze to the path and continued. "My excellent father died
five years ago, and it was only months later that Mr. Wickham wrote to me. He d
eclared his intent to study law rather than take orders, and he requested a sum of mon
ey outright in place of the intended living. Being close in age with Mr. Wickham
, I had long observed his propensity toward licentious behavior. He was always c
areful to hide his true character from my father, but I knew he should not be a
clergyman. I therefore agreed to give him three thousand pounds in exchange for
his forfeiting all claim to the living." Here was information that squared with Elizabeth's initial impressions of Mr.
Wickham, and she had no doubt of its truth. It appeared that the worst was yet b
e revealed, however, as Mr. Darcy continued his account. "Mr. Wickham proceeded to squander this sum at an alarming rate. He then racked
up debts with every shop- keeper from Lambton to London. Worse, he used his con-
nection to my family to gain entrance to several gentlemen's clubs in town, whe
re he incurred even greater debts of hon- or. When the living he had forfeited b
ecame available some three years later, he again wrote to me. His situation, he
claimed, was exceedingly dire-of this, I have no doubt. He prevailed upon me to
honor my father's original intentions and grant him the living despite his previ
ous disavowal of it. I refused, repeatedly when necessary, and he expressed his 39 resentment quite violently to me and to anyone who would hear him. I was surpris
ed, and unpleasantly so, to encounter him here in Hertfordshire, but his continu
ed assaults on my character come as no surprise whatsoever." Elizabeth was all astonishment at this portrait of Mr. Wickham. She had always b
elieved him to be a smooth, cunning sort of character, but the true extent of his malice exceeded her wildes
t imagination. She dared not own to her shock, however, for fear of seeming to d
isbelieve Mr. Darcy. "And Miss Darcy-she is unaware of this history between you?" "Completely, and I would wish it to remain so." Mr. Darcy paused, and when he sp
oke again, it was with a softer tone. "She was quite young when our father died.
Her memories of him are few. What remains strongest in her mind is a general impression of family happiness-and Mr. Wickham is unfortunately an inextric
able part of that impression. He was always kind to her in her childhood, and sh
e recalls our father's partiality toward him. I would not taint her pleasant m
emories with such disturbing revelations." "Of course not. You may be assured of my secrecy." "Thank you." Elizabeth considered that Mr. Wickham, for all his treachery, could be credited
with one kindness-this intimation of his black history had conveniently allaye
d the more complicated questions that remained between her and Mr. Darcy. The di
version was short-lived, however, for they soon neared the stretch of lane where
Mr. Darcy had deliv- ered his letter at daybreak a month earlier. The recogniti
on of this familiar territory forced them back into uncomfortable silence. The words of that letter had taken up permanent residence in Elizabeth's memor
y some weeks ago. By now, she felt each elegantly penned phrase to be inscribed
upon her heart. The line that now occupied her thoughts concerned his desires fo
r a meeting such as this: I would not wish you to be ill at ease, or fear any re
newal of undesirable attentions from my quarter. Ill at ease-how could she feel otherwise? As they walked along this path, leavin
g a trail of unspoken thoughts that grew longer with each step, a quiet desperat
ion began to build within her. Whatever his misdeeds where Jane and Mr. Bingley
were concerned, Mr. Darcy seemed sincerely regretful and determined to make amen
ds. As the happy couple approached their wedding day with no trace of re- sentme
nt, Elizabeth knew that to persist in her own censure of Mr. Darcy was both ridi
culous and petty. But to release her rancor against him meant embracing an uncom
fortable truth-that her current distress originated not in any fear of Mr. Darcy
renewing his addresses, but rather in the hope that he would. To harbor such a hope seemed patently foolish, when she had offered him no reaso
n to persevere in his suit, or even in his admiration. In the six weeks since th
eir disastrous 40 interview at Hunsford, Mr. Darcy had acted to secure her sister's happiness, vis
ited her home, offered his written apologies, and confided in her such delicat
e information as he would not share with even his closest relations. In return,
Elizabeth had-what, exactly? Poured him tea? Introduced the well-bred Miss Darcy
to the company of her silly sisters and that dastardly Mr. Wickham? A distressing thought leapt to the forefront of her mind, and Elizabeth spoke wi
thout thinking. "Oh, but the Lucases' ball!"?Mr. Darcy seemed startled by the intensity of her e
xcla- mation, as well as its complete disconnection to any of his own thoughts. "I beg
your pardon?" "Forgive me-it is only that Sir William is hosting a ball a few days hence. 'Bal
l' is perhaps too grand a term. It is a gathering of sorts intended as a farewel
l to the officers of the regiment. I fear my sisters and Miss Lucas were quite e
nthusiastic in encouraging Miss Darcy to attend." "But my sister is not yet out." "Yes, I know." Elizabeth bit her lip, regretting her earlier encouragement. "But
Miss Darcy may have been persuaded to hope for your permission, as it is but a
small country affair. We did not consider, of course, the factor of Mr. Wickham's likely presence at the event." "I see." "Although, now that Mr. Wickham is aware of your presence in town, he may very
well stay away entirely. He only dared attend the ball at Netherfield because h
e was ignorant of your being a guest there-so much was clear to me that evening.
"Mr. Darcy seemed less concerned with the question of Mr. Wickham's attendance th
an with the prospect of Miss Darcy's. "My sister-she expressed some interest in
attending this...gathering?" "Oh, certainly. 'It sounds delightful'-I believe those were her words." "Indeed?" Mr. Darcy sounded pleasantly surprised. "You have formed a fast acquai
ntance with her then, in these two days." "I believe so. She is a lovely young lady, and I can tell that my sisters are qu
ite fond of her already. I only hope they have not thoroughly shocked her with t
heir familiarity by the time Mr. Bingley's barouche arrives at Longbourn." Eliza
beth noted with relief Mr. Darcy's favorable response to her teasing tone. His s
tiff posture relaxed a bit, and his expression softened considerably. "Of course
, whatever offense to Miss Darcy's sensibilities my younger sisters left undon
e will have been handily accomplished by my mother by the time we arrive." "I am certain their society can only be to her benefit," he replied. "She was bu
t an infant when our own mother died, and I have often regretted that Georgiana
has no sister of her own to confide in." "Well, Longbourn has sisters enough to spare, should Miss Darcy wish to take one
for her own." Elizabeth spoke in jest, not realizing the deeper implications of her statemen
t until Mr. Darcy's silence alerted her to her mistake. She was thoroughly embar
rassed at having made such a slip, and even more mortified to imagine his susp
icions of her intent. The gate of Longbourn was a welcome sight, indeed. She wis
hed nothing more than to escape quickly inside the house, but Mr. Darcy addresse
d her again. "Do Mr. and Mrs. Collins plan to attend the wedding?" "Yes," Elizabeth replied slowly, quite puzzled by his interest in the matter.
"They will arrive Wednesday next and stay at Lucas Lodge." "Ah. So your cousin and his wife will not arrive in time to attend Sir William's
ball." "I suppose not." They approached the door of Longbourn, and Elizabeth waited for
Mr. Darcy to open it. He hesi- tated, however, to pose a final question. "Then, on this occasion, I trust Mr. Collins cannot have preceded me in engaging
your hand for the first set?" He opened the door with one hand and offered the
other to assist her in crossing the threshold. She accepted his support with a
grateful smile. "For once, Mr. Darcy, your assumptions are correct." Chapter 12 LUCAS LODGE Sthe house, as did the officers of the ____shire Regiment. A goodly proportion of
the officers seemed half in their cups already, and the other half were fully s
o. While a generous-sized home, Lucas Lodge could not boast the hosting capacity of
an estate such as Netherfield. The small hall was cleared for dancing with a few musicians crushed into one cor
ner, but guests spilled into every available space-the salon, the drawing room
, the dining room, and even Sir William's study. The Bennets were still greeting their hosts when the Netherfield party arrived.
Mr. and Miss Bingley and the Hursts alighted from the first carriage, and Mr. Da
rcy handed down his sister from the second. The sight of Miss Darcy provoked s
queals of delight from Maria, Kitty, and Lydia, and they flocked to her side imm
ediately. From the center of this giggling throng, Mr. Darcy's gaze sought Eliza
beth's, and he greeted her with a slight nod and amused smile. Maria Lucas took great pleasure in presenting Miss Darcy to her mother. All were
ushered into the Lodge, only to be immediately dispersed. Jane and Mr. Bingley
occupied each other's full attention. Sir William begged the company of Mr. Darc
y and Mr. Hurst. Mrs. Bennet and Mary attended Aunt Phillips, and Kitty and Ly
dia quickly departed in search of their favorite officers. Elizabeth took it upo
n herself to see Miss Darcy, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst settled in a quiet c
orner of the drawing room. As they passed through the crowded assembly of office
rs and guests, merri- ment crushing in on them from every direction, Miss Darcy
grew quite wide-eyed and pale. Elizabeth pressed her hand reassuringly, and the
young lady sank into a high-backed chair with a relieved sigh. "So many people!" "Believe me, Miss Darcy, the number of guests is not so great. It is only our cl
ose quarters that give such an appearance." Elizabeth left Miss Darcy's side j
ust long enough to bring her a glass of lemonade. "It is a shame, Miss Darcy, that an assembly of this nature should form your fir
st impression of society," Miss Bingley was saying when she returned. "The balls
and dinners you will attend in town in no way resemble this affair, let me as-
sure you. The richness of decoration, the excellent music..." She looked askance
at Elizabeth and whispered confiden- tially, "the superior quality of the perso
nages in attendance. pirits were running high at Lucas Lodge when the Bennet family made their arrival. The sounds of merry laughter and lively music overflowed 4? The country can offer nothing to approach a London ball for elegance-and you may
believe that Mr. Darcy will ensure the ball held in your honor is unequalled
for splendor anywhere." "But this is my greatest fear, Miss Bingley! To observe such a grand affair from
the perimeter is wonderful, I am sure, but to be at its center-I dread being th
e object of such attention." Mrs. Hurst interjected with unusual spirit, "Exactly why your brother should mar
ry!" She looked toward a group of gentlemen in the hall, and the other ladies fo
llowed her glance to where Mr. Darcy stood in converse with Sir William and othe
rs. "If he would but take a wife, your distress might be lessened considerably
. What a comfort you would find in having a sister from the highest circles of s
o- ciety to guide you-one to introduce you to the best people and protect you fr
om...others." By the disdainful look she cast about the room, it was clear that
the guests of Lucas Lodge fell solidly into the latter category. "Thank you, Mrs. Hurst, but I have complete trust in my brother's own guidance a
nd protection." Miss Darcy gazed at her brother with admiration, and Elizabeth c
ould not help but join her. Mr. Darcy looked remarkably well this evening, she thought. He was, as usual, im
peccably dressed, and conveniently stood several inches taller than any other
of the group, affording a clear view of his fine profile. Indeed, Elizabeth thou
ght she had not seen him look so handsome since the Meryton assembly when they h
ad first been introduced. What was it about a simple country dance that enhanc
ed his already attractive features? She observed the solid, defiant set of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow, t
he heightened color of his complexion. His lips were slightly parted, as on the
point of quick reply; his eyes, intently alert and piercing. Taken as a whole, i
t was the countenance of a man engaged in constant inquiry and intelligent appra
isal, carefully composed to betray nothing beyond casual indifference. Another o
bserver might call it a smug, even haughty expression; Elizabeth understood it d
ifferently. In the midst of this boisterous gathering, Mr. Darcy remained alert
to everything and responsive to nothing-in short, he was exceedingly, endearin
gly ill at ease. How foolish she had been, to persist so long in her resentment of him! What ab
surdity, to hate the best man she had ever known simply because he was revealed
to be exactly that-a man, imperfect as any other. How could she have ever prefer
red the Mr. Darcy of that idealized Pemberley portrait, solemnly staring down po
sterity, to its flesh-and- blood inspiration? "My brother is quite handsome, is he not?" Miss Darcy's whispered question remin
ded Elizabeth that she was staring, and she quickly averted her gaze. She dare
d not answer such an inquiry aloud, but flashed Miss Darcy a guilty smile. The
y shared a brief, conspiratorial glance that quickly erupted into merry laughter
.42 "Excuse me, Georgiana." Mr. Darcy was suddenly at Elizabeth's side, offering his
hand. "Miss Bennet, I believe it is many months now that you have owed me the p
leasure of a reel." Elizabeth smiled and accepted his hand, taking great delight in viewing Miss Dar
cy's pleased smile and Miss Bingley's icy glare as Mr. Darcy led her past them t
o the dance floor. It was not the first time Elizabeth had danced with Mr. Darcy, but this experien
ce could not have been more different from their dance at Netherfield. The hal
l was jammed with couples, and between the lively step and the general din, no c
onversation was possible. Most fortunately, there was no Mr. Wickham to darken t
he mood-Elizabeth had looked for him in vain since their arrival. Thus safe from
the past and prevented from speaking at present, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy danced
with true enjoyment, exchanging only warm smiles and glances full of the future
.As the dance ended, both were flushed with exertion and emotion. Mr. Darcy quiet
ly suggested that they take some air outside, and Elizabeth followed him into th
e garden, accepting his arm as they ambled towards a small arbor. "I forget, Mr. Darcy, that you are not accustomed to as- semblies such as this,
so crowded with guests that little space remains to admit propriety. I fear you
find our country manners rather shocking." Her tone was light and teasing, a
nd his reply equally so. "No indeed. Sir William's hospitality is most generous, and I find nothing lacki
ng in present company, I assure you." He turned to her and confided softly, "In
suggesting we take some air, I merely hoped that doing so would afford us some
opportunity to speak privately. I regret that our discourse the other day was c
hiefly occupied with such unpleasant matters." Elizabeth's mind raced. If Mr. Darcy awaited only her encouragement, as Jane sug
gested, this moment was her opening. Only the decision of whether she wished to
pursue it remained. She searched her heart for any lingering trace of resentment
or uncertainty, and, finding none, answered quietly, "It does seem a shame to d
well on the unhappy past when there is so much present cause for celebration. I
have not properly thanked you for your part in reuniting my sister and Mr. Bin
gley." Mr. Darcy began to object, but she continued quickly. "I thank you also for your
letter. You were under no obligation to explain your actions to me, but-I am gr
ateful that you did." "If it caused you to think better of me, then I am glad to have written it. Sinc
e delivering it to your hand, I have often doubted the wisdom of writing such a
letter. I fear I committed some pledges to paper that I would rather now deny." Elizabeth stopped and withdrew her arm from his hastily. "Of course, sir-I under
stand you completely. Circum- stances and sentiments alter with time." Mortified beyond comprehension, she turned back toward the house, but Mr. Darcy caught her arm ge
ntly. "Miss Bennet, please-you mistake my meaning."?She turned back to face him and en
countered a gaze that was determined, ardent, and blessedly familiar from an eve
ning some weeks past, at Hunsford. His grasp on her arm loosened, and his hand t
railed downward to capture hers. Elizabeth allowed him to lead her to a bench be
neath the arbor, where they sat engulfed in the heady perfume of roses.?"Forgive me," he began, "but I must speak plainly. We have misunderstood one another so frequently over the course of our acquaintance
, and often to disastrous effect. I assure you, my affections and wishes have no
t changed since April. The past weeks have done nothing to alter them in the sli
ghtest; quite the contrary. In my letter, I assured you I would not renew any ex
pression of those sentiments- it is only this promise that I now regret." Elizabeth could not meet his eyes, but kept her gaze focused on their hands loos
ely intertwined on the bench between them. Mr. Darcy seemed suddenly conscious o
f prolonging such a liberty and began to withdraw his hand, but Elizabeth's fing
ers tightened over his instinctively. She gasped slightly at her own forwardness
. If she could not bear to look him earlier, to do so now was impossible. Neithe
r could she find words to speak-but hardly knowing what she did, she drew her th
umb across the back of his hand with gentle deliberation. "Do you recall telling me in Kent that you would embrace your family in Hertford
shire all the more eagerly for having been parted from them?" he asked softly.
"It was your observation that distance has the effect of increasing one's affec
tion." A slight nod was the only reply Elizabeth could manage. "The past month has show
n me the proof of your theorem, Miss Bennet. Never before did I appreciate what
great distance separates Pemberley from Longbourn."?He moved to close the gap between the
m, as if the few inches that remained of that distance were still an expanse too
wide to tolerate. He turned her hand in his to expose her palm, and Elizabeth w
atched his fingertips trace the long, slow journey from the base of her wrist to
the hollow of her arm. It was the lightest of caresses, barely grazing her skin
-but utterly piercing in its tenderness. At last, she found the courage to lift her face to his.?"Sir, you must not begin to repeat th
e things I said to you in Kent. Your excellent recollection in this instance is unpardonable. I sai
d so many things that I would wish you to forget." "And what did you say to me that I did not deserve? My behavior to you at the ti
me merited the severest reproof. I shall not allow you to regret your reproaches
." "But you must!" Mr. Darcy blinked, surprised at the ve- hemence of her exclamati
on. Elizabeth softened her tone and began again. "Let us not quarrel for the gre
ater share of blame, for we neither behaved with civility that evening. For your mistakes,
you have tendered both explanations and apologies, but my own misapprehensions r
emain un- confessed. I now beg your leave to speak plainly. You must allow me to
tell you..." "Shhhh." He gently laid a finger against her mouth to silence her. His gaze was
dark and searching, and for an instant, she believed he intended to replace hi
s finger with his lips. Instead, Mr. Darcy rose from the bench abruptly and stoo
d in the center of the path, leaving Elizabeth breathless and bewildered in the
shadow of the arbor. "Darcy! Is that you, man?" Mr. Bingley approached from the house. "What is it, Bingley?" "It is Caroline. She is complaining of a headache and insists on being returned
to Netherfield. I would send her with Hurst, but you know he was half-drunk befo
re we even departed-and I would take her myself, but..." "But you are to be married in less than a week and wish to spend every possible
moment with your intended. Say no more. Order the carriage and tell your sister
I shall be there presently." "You have my unbounded gratitude, Darcy!" Mr. Bingley's voice faded as he quickl
y returned to the house, eager to resume his place at Jane's side. Once he was safely gone, Mr. Darcy dropped back to the bench and cast Elizabeth
an apologetic smile. "It seems I must be going. Forgive me. I will see Miss Bing
ley safely deposited at Netherfield and return as quickly as possible." "Please do not apologize. Mr. Bingley's interruption may have been for the best.
We have tarried here too long already, and we would soon be missed." "Miss Bennet, would it be too forward of me-that is, might we continue this conv
ersation at another time and place, where we can be assured of having no interru
ption? Is it still your habit to walk out in the mornings?" She nodded. "You may find me in the lane within an hour of daybreak." "Tomorrow, then." He rose and bowed. "I must inform my sister that I am leaving.
May I ask you to look after her in my absence?" "It will be my pleasure, sir."?When Mr. Darcy had gone and Elizabeth had suffici
ently settled her spirits, she returned to the house in time to heed the call to su
pper. She invited Miss Darcy to join their family table, and the young lady happ
ily complied. Toward the end of the meal, Maria Lucas opened the pianoforte, and
Mary, as usual, hastened to perform. Sir William approached their table and a
ddressed Elizabeth. "Miss Eliza, I hope you will also delight us with a song this evening." "If you insist, Sir William." "Capital! I have not had the pleasure of hearing you play since we were both at
Rosings." He turned to Miss Darcy. "And you, Miss Darcy-my daughter tells me you
are ex- 43 ceedingly accomplished in all pursuits musical. I trust that we may depend upon
you for a delightful performance." Miss Darcy merely smiled and nodded slightly, but she grabbed Elizabeth's arm in
desperation the moment Sir William turned his back. "Oh, Miss Bennet! Please te
ll me I shall not be forced to play before all these people!" "Of course not, if you do
not wish it." Mary, having at last learned the virtue of brevity in such performances, finishe
d her song and rose to cede her place at the instrument. Sir William looked expe
ctantly at Elizabeth and motioned for her to take her sister's place. "Kitty!" Elizabeth addressed her younger sister in a tone that would brook no re
fusal. "Be so good as to take Miss Darcy for a turn in the garden. The air insid
e is very close- is it not, Miss Darcy?" "Indeed," Miss Darcy replied gratefully. "A stroll in the fresh evening air woul
d be most welcome." Kitty dutifully linked arms with Miss Darcy and led her into the gardens, and El
izabeth seated herself at the pianoforte. She chose to sing an ancient folk ba
llad that told a stirring tale of love, loss, and redemption. It was a simple tu
ne that found a warm reception in any such assembly, and Elizabeth performed wit
h her usual engaging spirit. As she struck the final chord, the guests rewarded
her efforts with hearty applause, and Elizabeth looked up to spy Mr. Darcy stand
ing in the far doorway. He did not applaud, but appreciation was writ plainly on his face. His lips curv
ed in a slight, secret smile, and he fixed her with a look of unadorned affectio
n, entirely free of design or disguise. No elegant letter or passionate declarat
ion could have expressed his love more eloquently, and Elizabeth's heart swelled
with the blissful certainty of loving in return. She would have gone to him then, but Mrs. Hurst approached the pianoforte and
pressed Elizabeth into the service of turning pages. The piece of Mrs. Hurst's
choosing was a lengthy concerto, and it was some time before Elizabeth was at l
iberty to seek him out. When her eyes went to the doorway, however, Mr. Darcy wa
s no longer there. Elizabeth started to quit the room in search of him, but Mrs. Bennet accosted he
r in a flutter of furious fanning, demanding her immediate attention. "Oh, Lizzy! Whatever shall we do? Lady Lucas tells me that there is no champagne
to be had in all of England- some blockade or embargo or other rubbish! We simp
ly cannot have a wedding breakfast without champagne!" "The casualties of war are great indeed, Mama, but I expect we shall survive t
he deprivation." "Oh, it is not to be borne! The regiment is leaving us, and now there is no prop
er wine to be had anywhere!" If only the Crown would appoint her mother as emis- sary to France, Elizabeth th
ought, Napoleon might be persuaded to forfeit his interest in England altogeth
er. Kitty flounced by on the arm of Lieutenant Denny, and Elizabeth stopped her
short. 44 "Wherever is Miss Darcy?"?Kitty giggled and exchanged a coy glance with Denny. "Oh! I think she is with Miss Bingley."?"With Miss Bingley? But Miss Bingley is
already..." Thoroughly irritated with her fool of a sister, she left Kitty to her flirtation
and embarked on an increasingly anxious search for Miss Darcy. She was not to b
e found in the hall, nor in the dining room or the salon. Elizabeth rounded the
corner into the drawing room with mounting alarm-only to find Miss Darcy ensconc
ed in the same chair as earlier. "Miss Darcy! Please forgive me for neglecting you so long." "Oh no, Miss Bennet-thank you for preserving me from Sir William!" "Sir William?" Mr. Darcy approached them with an amused expression. "Georgiana,
it has not escaped my notice that you are growing into an exceptional young la
dy, and I fully expect that I shall one day be forced to call a man out in your
defense. But I must say, I would not have guessed it to be Sir William!" Elizabeth laughed. "Sir William would prevail on her to play the pianoforte," sh
e explained, "But with Kitty's assistance, we were able to spare her the pain
of refusing him." "Thank you, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said softly. Elizabeth met his tender gaze a
nd felt her cheeks flush instantly. She quickly returned her attention to his
sister, for the first time noting Miss Darcy's own rather pale complexion. "Georgiana, are you well?" Mr. Darcy knelt before his sister with true concern.
The young lady's breath was quick and shallow, and even as she verbally assured
her brother that she felt very well indeed, her distracted manner suggested ot
herwise. Mr. Darcy drew Elizabeth slightly away from his sister's hearing. "It seems my s
ister has had sufficient stimulation for one evening," he said. "Yes, she appears quite fatigued. You would do well to return her to Netherfield
, I think." She smiled ruefully at this second ill-timed interruption, but Mr. D
arcy's reply removed any disappointment. "A shortened evening will do me no harm. I have an early morning engagement of t
he highest importance." He took her hand and kissed it quickly before gathering
up Miss Darcy. Brother and sister bid Elizabeth farewell and went to pay their c
ompliments to the Lucases. Elizabeth made her way to the hall, where the dancing was once again in full swi
ng. Mr. Bingley asked for her hand in the next, and she gladly accepted. Elizabe
th felt that her heart might burst from unexpressed joy, and the unbridled merri
ment of the dance came as welcome relief. Her bliss was tempered, however, when
the dance ended and she sought out her sisters-only to find them in most unwelco
me company. "Mr. Wickham," she greeted him coolly. "I was unaware we had the pleasure of you
r company this evening." "I arrived rather late, I am afraid. I have been settling my accounts in Meryton
before we decamp tomorrow." Lydia, as ever, clung to the lieutenant's arm shamelessly, and Kitty and Maria c
learly envied her daring. Even Mrs. Forster took little pains to hide her own in
fatuation with the man, being scarcely older and no more sensible than the other
three. Mr. Wickham took his leave of the ladies, and Elizabeth observed the col
onel's wife follow him with a gaze that combined smug possession with permissive
ness, as though he were on loan to the young ladies of Meryton for one final eve
ning. "What a pity that you cannot come to Brighton with me, Miss Lydia! There will be
dinners and balls every night!" Mrs. Forster's expressed disappointment rang fa
lse to Elizabeth's ears, but Lydia's plaintive reply was sincerely obnoxious. "Oh, I shall be positively desolate without you! Without the regiment, Meryton i
s the most boring town in all of England, I am sure. If only Jane and her Mr. Bi
ngley had been married a week earlier, I might have gone." Lydia looked over her
shoulder and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I was of half a
mind to come along anyway, Papa's permission or no-Lord, what a laugh that would
be! But I suppose Colonel Forster would never allow it." Exasperated by the foolishness concentrated in this corner, Elizabeth left the y
oung ladies to their twittering. Neither Lydia nor Kitty had spoken a word of se
nse since the militia's installment in the neighborhood. The regiment could not
be drummed out of Meryton fast enough for her liking. But there was another, far more agreeable reason that tomorrow could not come
too soon, and Elizabeth thrilled to recall it. Here was a happy thought that eve
n Mr. Wickham could not remove, and by the end of the evening her cheeks positiv
ely ached from smiling. Chapter 13 LONGBOURN Ethe windowpane. She washed and dressed quickly, twisted her hair into a simple k
not, and paused at the mirror only long enough to confirm that her features ha
d suffered no radical rearrangement overnight. She left the house soundlessly and set a direct course for the appointed stretch
of lane. Her pace was neither rushed nor dawdling, but perfectly deliberate and
natural. No ob- server would have guessed her to have any pressing errand or sp
ecial destination, but it was precisely this unexception- al air and quiet confi
dence that filled Elizabeth with joy. She walked out not only to greet this morn
ing, but every morning of her life thereafter-and she did so of her own volition
, unencumbered by any sense of duty or obligation. It was a singular sensation,
to feel the enormity of her future curled neatly in her palm, and to know it was
hers alone to possess, to give, to share as she desired. She had not walked far from Longbourn's gate when she saw him. Mr. Darcy stood t
o the side of the road, his horse stamping impatiently nearby. Elizabeth quicken
ed her pace and strode toward him, smiling. As she approached, however, she no
ted his own expression to be dark and gravely troubled. "Elizabeth, thank God you are here. I could not have delayed much longer." He
was pale and agitated, and Elizabeth observed his distress with alarm and heartf
elt concern. "Goodness, what is the matter?" she asked, with more feeling than politeness. "T
ruly, you look very ill!" "Spare no concern for me; I am well. It is my sister. Georgiana has eloped...wit
h Wickham." "Miss Darcy-eloped with Wickham! I cannot believe it! Perhaps there is some misu
nderstanding. Is it certain-ab- solutely certain that such is the case?" Mr. Darcy pulled a neatly folded letter from his breast pocket. "I found this pu
shed under my door this morning. They are bound for Gretna Green." He swallowed hard and yanked sharply on his ho
rse's reins. "When I think that I might have prevented this! I knew his true cha
racter. Had I explained to her but a part of our dealings, she would never have
thrown herself into his power." "But what would possess her to do such a thing?" "Mr. Wickham can be very persuasive when he wishes. His chief inducement is no d
oubt her dowry of 30,000 pounds." He mounted his horse in one swift, fluid motio
n. "As to her lizabeth had not expected to sleep at all that night. How surprising then, to awaken from a sound, dreamless slumber to find the sun already warming 45 reasons-you may read them for yourself." He extended the letter toward her. "Forgive me, I must leave you now. I have not an instant to lose." "Of course-I will not detain you a minute. Only..." She reached up with both han
ds, taking the letter from him and tightening her fingers around his own. "Yes," he whispered-whether in question or in answer, it was impossible to tell. "Please, sir-take care that no harm should come to you," she said quietly, her v
oice catching in her throat. She released his hand, and with one serious, part
ing look, Mr. Darcy turned his horse and rode away. Elizabeth watched him depart
toward Meryton, and once again she found herself standing in the lane, alone
and astonished, mysterious letter in hand. She opened the unsealed paper and rea
d, My dear brother, You will be grieved when you read this letter, but it grieves me more to imagine
your distress when I am missed tomorrow morning. I beg you not to suffer any an
xiety on my account. I am bound for Gretna Green-and though I have promised abso
lute secrecy to my betrothed, I know you will easily guess with whom I have elop
ed, you are so wise. Please do not fault Mrs. Annesley for the pitiable decline in penmanship this le
tter displays. I can all too well picture the terrible expression on your face a
t this moment, and my fingers tremble so fiercely they will not master the qui
ll. You will be shocked that I did not seek your counsel before entering into an
engagement and, I fear, angered at this abrupt elopement. But as my dear inte
nded reminds me, I am no longer a child. Surely you have always known that one day I must dare to trust my own h
eart above even your estimable wisdom. Aside from you, dearest brother, there is but one man in the world I love. I bel
ieve him to be an angel, sent from Heaven by our dear father, who loved him almo
st as his own. Our attachment may appear sudden, but I assure you nothing could
be further from the truth. I have loved him my entire life, I am certain of it.
By now you surely have guessed his name, and I can no longer deny myself the ple
asure of seeing it written here-soon I shall be Mrs. George Wickham. Do you not
remember our childhood game, Fitzwilliam? How George would make it his charge to
coax a smile from me, no matter how dark my mood? To this day, he has never fai
led. I am grinning most madly even as I write. I should never be happy without him, nor he without me. Therefore, I see only wi
sdom in his desire to be married immediately. We are called to battle, each of us in our own way. George must away
with the regiment to defend the Crown, and I am to face the lions of the London
ton-a prospect no less terrifying to me than marching out to meet the armies of 46 France. To be parted at this moment, not knowing when or how or if we should eve
r meet again-neither of us can bear the thought. Once we are married, we shall f
ace everything together, united in the strength of our love. As dear George says
with his usual charm, that which is joined by God, Napoleon himself shall not p
ut asunder. And as Mrs. George Wickham, I believe I may suffer presentation at court with some measure of self-
possession, where Miss Georgiana Darcy would surely wither and faint. Perhaps he is not the husband you would choose for me, brother. He has no title,
no connections, no fortune. But I trust that you will understand my decision to
value love above all such worldly considerations. I suspect you have prepared y
our own arguments to just this end. As fearsome as your reaction to this lette
r may be, I imagine it will pale in comparison to the wrath of Aunt Catherine wh
en she learns you are to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Do not deny it, Fitzwillia
m- your attachment to the lady is obvious, and her admiration of you equally so.
I am delighted for you beyond expression. My dear brother, I have learned from your excellent example all my life. Your pr
inciples are always above reproach; your good opinion sought by all, but earned
by few. If ever your behavior spoke a truer lesson to my heart, I cannot recall
the instance. To see how insufficient are all the pretensions of pride and wealt
h to sway your affections from a woman truly worthy of your love-it has taught m
e to hope that you might greet my own love match with joy and not censure. Befor
e long, you shall call George brother, and I shall call Miss Elizabeth sister, a
nd in years to come we will all take tea on the veranda at Pemberley and watch o
ur children playing and laughing together on the green. What happy times are bef
ore us! I am heartily sorry for one thing, and that is that I shall miss the wedding of
Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet. Please convey to them my apologies and my sincere w
ishes for their felicity. Dear George wishes us to honeymoon by the sea, but I p
romise we shall return to town soon. When next I write, I will sign a different name-but rest assured, dear brother
, that I forever remain Your devoted sister, Georgiana The shock that Elizabeth felt upon finishing this letter was quickly eclipsed by
the weight of her own culpability in this dreadful turn of events. What had she
done? She had endorsed Miss Darcy's impulsive behavior on the day of their walk
to Meryton and then allowed her to consort with this worst of scoundrels. When
Mr. Darcy trusted his sister to her keeping last night, she had failed him utter
ly-for Elizabeth's neglect must have afforded Wickham the opportunity to lure Miss Darcy to this ruinous assignation. Most perversely of all
, to see her poorly concealed admiration of Mr. Darcy held up as an example, a
justification of the whole sordid business! Why had she not discerned the depths of Wickham's malice toward Mr. Darcy from t
he moment of their introduction at Netherfield? Why, upon receiving confirmati
on of her suspicions, did she not decry his character to all of her acquaintance
? Oh, and if only she had simply pressed Miss Darcy to play the pianoforte! She
had let slip so many chances to thwart this wretched man and his scheme. Perhaps chance would still play a role in Miss Darcy's sal- vation, for it was f
ortunate indeed that she had written this letter, and furthermore that her broth
er had risen early to find it. With the regiment slated to depart this very morn
- ing, it might have been some time before anyone connected the two disappearanc
es. As the situation stood now, the couple had only a few hours' of coach travel
to their advantage. Mr. Darcy would surely overtake them before they reached
Stilton. As much as Elizabeth prayed such would be the case, the thought of Mr.
Darcy confronting his sister's would-be seducer chilled her. Wickham was despe
rate and dishonest-when trapped; she felt a cold certainty he could be dangerous
as well. She scanned the letter once more as she walked back toward Longbourn, searching
for reason to expect a more pleasant outcome than her imagination foretold. Her
only discovery, however, was the acute pain Mr. Darcy must have experienced at r
eading each innocently ominous line. I believe him to be an angel, sent from Hea
ven by our dear father... Poor, foolish girl, to be so deceived! In years to com
e we will all take tea on the veranda at Pemberley and watch our children playin
g and laughing together on the green... A vile image, indeed-were the shades of
Pemberley to be thus polluted? George wishes us to honeymoon by the sea, she read as she reached the letter's c
lose. "Oh yes," Elizabeth muttered bitterly. "God forbid the villain should once more
miss his seaside holiday!" She recalled his longing for the 'bracing breezes o
f the sea' when they had danced at Netherfield. I had planned a journey to Ramsg
ate this summer past, but circumstances necessitated its cancellation. What a tr
agedy for him, to be denied Ramsgate one year and Brighton the next! She kicked
aside a small stone in the path, sending it skittering into the grass. Then she halted in the lane, stone still. Ramsgate!?Miss Bingley's words filtere
d to her consciousness from a memory many months past, in the Netherfield drawin
g room. What a disappointment for Miss Darcy, to take ill and miss traveling to
Ramsgate. Then Wickham's statement in the same home, scarcely a month later...?A sick sensation of alarm grew in Eliza
beth's stomach, and her heart pounded wildly as she attempted to force these memories into a coh
erent understanding. Miss Darcy was to have summered in Ramsgate, and there Wick
ham would have followed-undoubtedly by design. It seemed an inescapable conclusion t
hat this morning's elopement was not the product of reckless impulse, but the re
sult of persistent calculation spanning many months, perhaps years. The uncert
ainty lay in the source of the scheming-was it only on Wickham's side, or was Mi
ss Darcy a willing conspira- tor? For Mr. Darcy's sake, Elizabeth hoped desperat
ely for the former. How he would bear such a betrayal from his sister, she could
not imagine. It was impossible to know how to apportion the blame, but in either case, Elizab
eth felt one conclusion increasingly certain. Miss Darcy and Wickham were not
bound for Gretna Green at all. Wickham cared no more for Miss Darcy than he did for Kitty or Lydia, of this she
was certain. Neither did she credit Mr. Darcy's assumption that he sought only
a large dowry. Certainly, he could have applied his charms to some rich widow or
dim-witted heiress long ago. To Elizabeth's mind, Mr. Wickham's aim was revenge
. He desired whatever he could obtain at the expense of Mr. Darcy's fortune or
family honor, and the seduction of Georgiana Darcy would deliver on both counts
.Then why would a man of such shrewdness delay a full year to accomplish this evi
l objective, only to follow the most predictable, well-worn route of lovers? Eve
n with an advance of a day or better, a journey to Gretna Green by coach would c
onsume the better part of a week. Considering the resources and manpower within
Mr. Darcy's power to dispatch, the couple's chances of arriving in Scotland undi
s- covered would be slim at best. Elizabeth hastily folded Miss Darcy's letter, picked up her skirts, and sprinted
the remaining distance to Longbourn. She entered Kitty and Lydia's room to find
both sisters still abed, no doubt dreaming girlish fantasies of soldiers and ba
lls. "Lydia!" Elizabeth hissed, shaking her sister firmly. "Lydia, wake up!" Lydia turned over, shielding her eyes with her forearm. "Lord, Lizzy! Whatever c
an you want at this hour?" "Does Mrs. Forster depart this morning for Brighton?" Lydia yawned. "Yes, I supp
ose." She rolled away from her sister and drew the coverlet over her head, but E
lizabeth only shook her shoulder more violently.?"Lydia! You must rise at once! For you,
most undeserv- ing of all girls, this is a fortunate day. You may accompany Mrs. Forster to Bri
ghton after all, but you must get out of bed immediately and send word to her. Q
uickly-write a note and tell her we will meet her in Meryton in an hour's time." She went to the closet and retrieved a small valise, which she deposited at the
foot of Lydia's bed. "Pack only what you can carry the distance to Meryton. The
rest of your things will be sent along later." By now, Lydia was sitting upright in bed and regarding her sister with incredu
lity. "I am permitted to go to 47 Brighton? But if Papa has changed his mind, why did he not tell me so himself?" Elizabeth drew out a fresh sheet of paper and placed on the writing table. "Lydi
a, do you wish to go to Brighton?" "Oh, yes!" "Then do not waste time on stupid questions, but come here immediately and write
to Mrs. Forster." Lydia reluctantly settled herself at the table and picked up the quill Elizabeth
had prepared. Once the note was complete, Elizabeth took and folded it quickly.
"Pack your things and be ready to depart in a half-hour's time. I will knock fo
r you, and we will walk to Meryton." Kitty had begun to stir in her own bed some minutes ago, but only now proved her
self to be fully awake. "But why should you go, Lizzy? Mrs. Forster did not invi
te you as her particular friend! If anyone is to accompany Lydia, it ought to be
me!" "I shall chaperone Lydia only as far as London. Mama has word of a district in t
own where champagne may be had for the wedding breakfast, and I am to make inqui
ries." "Oh, it is wretchedly unfair, that Lydia should go and not me!" Kitty's pout sud
denly transformed into a sly smile. "But Lydia may go chase the officers all she wishes, and the laugh will be on he
r-for her favorite will not be among them!" "What are you on about, Kitty?" Lydia asked. "Only that Miss Darcy is the most fortunate lady in England. I shall be too envi
ous of her to spare a moment's jealousy for you!" Lydia dismissed her sister's cryptic comment and pondered her selection of bon
net instead, but Elizabeth sat on Kitty's bed and grabbed her sister firmly by t
he shoulders. "What do you know of Miss Darcy and Mr. Wickham?" Kitty eyes grew wide in astoni
shment. "Less than you do, it would seem! Honestly, Lizzy-all I know of it is wh
at Denny hinted. But it is not wholly unexpected..." Kitty collapsed into giggles and dove beneath the bedclothes. With no little effort, E
lizabeth stifled the urge to buf- fet the quivering mass of sheets and coverlets
with her fists. There were more important matters demanding her attention. Sh
e hurried to dispatch Hill to deliver Lydia's letter, and then she returned to her room to write a hasty note of her own, to her fathe
r. His displeasure with the actions detailed therein would be profound, but Eliz
abeth resolved not to think on it at present. Her father's feelings, while no le
ss important to her than they had been the day before, were nonetheless no longe
r foremost in her consideration. Indeed, for the entirety of the walk to Meryton and the cramped carriage ride to
London with the Forsters, her mind was wholly occupied with concern for Mr. Dar
cy and dread for his sister. The only feeling to occasionally intrude on this gr
im meditation was bitter regret at having failed to prevent the entire affair. They must have fled to London-she had now convinced herself of this thoroughly.
What their purpose there might 48 be, she hated to imagine, for none of the options were pleasant in the least.
They might go into hiding in town, or they could be bound for any destination. W
herever they landed, in London or elsewhere, the couple need only elude detec- t
ion long enough to make marriage Miss Darcy's sole alternative to ruination an
d social exile. Just one night spent with Wickham would leave her utterly compro
mised should it become known, and concealing such a scandal would be nigh on imp
ossible. Even Kitty and Denny had inklings of the truth already, and far clevere
r minds would attempt to unravel this rumor. If there was any chance of preserving Miss Darcy's reputation and happiness, E
lizabeth knew the young lady must be found before nightfall. She had but one not
ion of the couple's possible whereabouts-one thin slice of hope to sustain her t
hrough the three-hour journey until she was at last dropped in Cheapside. Her Aunt Gardiner received her with pleasant surprise. "Elizabeth! But we had no
idea you were coming!" Her welcoming smile became a look of concern as she note
d Elizabeth's serious expression. "Sit down at once, dear-I hope all is well at Longbourn?"?Elizabeth declined the offer to sit. "All is wel
l at Longbourn, I assure you. But I must beg your assistance in an altogether unconne
cted matter." "Yes, of course!" Elizabeth silently blessed her aunt's unwavering solicitude
and embraced her in gratitude and relief. She drew back quickly, anxious not t
o waste a single moment of what precious time remained. "Forgive me-I promise all will be explained in time, but let us send for Uncle G
ardiner immediately. I must speak with him at once. And then, Aunt-as a matter o
f desperate urgency-we must go shopping." Chapter 14 BOND STREET, LONDON Elizabeth felt a partridge among peacocks as she and her aunt wove through the f
ashionable crowds on Bond Street. Her sprigged muslin best appeared positively c
oarse against the silks and laces that passed her in flouncing waves. But though they were hopelessly humble and plai
n, she was glad of her sturdy brown half boots. Her feet were already aching fro
m their endless march past jewelers and confectioners, and it gave her some comf
ort to imagine what unsightly blisters were encased by the delicate slippers of
more stylish ladies. Fatigue and despair were beginning to dull any enjoyment she had taken in this
outing at its outset. They passed the glass window of a fruitery, where glisten
ing pineapples, grapes, and oranges were arranged in neat pyramids, but Elizabet
h took little pleasure in the impressive display. She was surrounded by all thin
gs dazzling and distracting, when what she needed most was clarity of thought an
d single-minded purpose. The logic of this search, which had seemed perfectly sound on the road to London
, now collapsed under the enormity of their task. Miss Darcy had left Netherfiel
d in secret, under cover of night. She could not have carried with her a great
many possessions; so much was indisputable. Despite Miss Darcy's assertion in h
er letter that they were bound for Gretna Green, Elizabeth was convinced that Wi
ckham had brought her here, to London. By whatever guise or persuasion he had
lured her to town, Wickham knew all too well how to entertain a lady and stave o
ff suspicion by liberal application of charm. To remain in his power, Miss Darcy
would require diversion, attention, spoiling-and all manner of material goods
. The shops, then, seemed an obvious destination. And had Miss Darcy not express
ed her preference for Bond Street wares above all others? It had seemed simple enough, then. The best hope of finding Miss Darcy before
nightfall was to make a thorough search of Bond Street shops. However, Elizabeth
had failed to account for a few minor complications in her haste-the shops numb
ered well over a hundred, and the ladies and gentlemen perusing their wares amou
nted to at least that number twentyfold. In the hackney coach coming from Cheapside, Elizabeth had acquainted her aunt wi
th as many details of the matter as she felt at liberty to disclose. Although Au
nt Gardiner seemed rather skeptical of how Elizabeth's interest in the situation
should justify this rash adventure to London, the strength of her niece's emoti
on persuaded her to provide whatever assistance she might. Unfortunately, she could be of little help in ide
ntifying Miss Darcy or Mr. Wickham in a crowd. It had been nearly a year since s
he had viewed their likenesses at Pemberley. On they forged, however, peering through the windows of smaller shops and duckin
g inside the larger establish- ments to make a thorough survey, always keeping a
n eye toward the crowds passing in the street. With their simple attire and dist
racted demeanor, they conveniently drew little notice from either shopkeepers
or customers. They had just turned out of a watchmaker's shop, having completed a cursory in
spection of its wares and clien- tele, when Elizabeth thought she glimpsed a fam
iliar face reflected in a jeweler's window across the street. She drew her aunt
into a doorway from which they might observe unnoticed. A man and young lady o
f the correct height, arms linked tightly and heads inclined in intimate convers
ation over the window display-Elizabeth felt her flagging spirits revive insta
ntly, and she watched with anxious anticipation for any confirmation of their
identity. At last, the two lovers raised their heads from examination of the war
es to regard each other, and the profiles of Miss Darcy and Mr. Wickham were unmistakable.?"Oh!" Aunt Gardiner gasped, and only then did Elizabe
th realize how tightly she had been gripping her aunt's sleeve. "I am so sorry, Aun
t!" Elizabeth released her aunt's arm and nodded in the direction of Miss Darcy and Wickham. "It is they," she whisper
ed, even though the couple remained well out of earshot across the busy street.
She watched in disgust as Wickham kissed Miss Darcy's hand and escorted her into the jeweler's shop.?"Shall we follow?" Aunt Gardiner asked.?"No, let us
wait and observe." Elizabeth knew confronting the couple on the open street could serve no purpose, other than to inflame
rumor and suspicion. Miss Darcy was found; a quiet resolution to the whole affai
r could still be obtained, but only through cautious negotiation. "Oh, if only m
y uncle would arrive!" Elizabeth and her aunt stood in the doorway for some time, watching the jeweler'
s shop closely. At length, the couple emerged. Wickham pocketed a small box, and
Miss Darcy looked up at him with glowing adoration. Her gaze was so trusting, E
lizabeth could not believe her to be a willing party to this scoundrel's venge
ful schemes. She had hoped, for Mr. Darcy's sake, that his sister truly believed
Gretna Green was their intended destination when she left Netherfield. Miss Dar
cy's countenance did not appear to be that of a girl wittingly entering a sordid
tryst, Elizabeth now noted with relief. Rather, her gaze displayed only guile-
less reverence for her companion. Miss Darcy might be imprudent and impulsive,
but thus far she appeared to remain innocent. Wickham and Miss Darcy proceeded slowly down the street, and Elizabeth and her a
unt followed at a discreet distance. The couple paused to admire a confectioner'
s dis- 49 play, then spent a short time inside an establishment where elaborate fans were
for sale. They had just entered a linen draper's when a hired coach came to an a
brupt halt along- side Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner. There were three men in the
carriage, but only one stepped down. "Oh, Uncle Gardiner!" Elizabeth embraced him warmly. "The men with you-are they.
.." "Yes, yes, Elizabeth. All is as you suggested. The stage is set, and we lack onl
y our villain." He spoke seriously enough, but Elizabeth thought she detected a
twinkle of amusement in his eye. Even in town, he would persist in being an an
gler. Elizabeth knew no one who took such great satisfaction from reeling in a c
atch. "They are just there, in the draper's." She indicated the establishment. "Shall we, then?" Uncle Gardiner offered one arm to his wife and the other to hi
s niece. Elizabeth took a deep breath and attempted to compose herself as they e
ntered the shop. And what a shop it was! Elizabeth felt she had entered an Aladdin's den of feath
ers and furs, silks and lace. Great bolts of cloth in every imaginable color and
pattern were stocked to the rafters high overhead. The establishment seemed to
continue back into infinity, partitioned into room after room of pattern books and perfumes and elegant accoutrements. They passed cases of fa
ns carved from horn and ivory, their gilt edges sparkling seductively, then a ve
ritable rainbow of parasols, and finally found Miss Darcy and Mr. Wickham examining an arrangement of beautiful lace gloves.?"Why, Miss Darcy! I had no id
ea you were returning to town before the wedding." Elizabeth hoped her light ton
e and forced smile gave the appearance of nonchalance. Her heart pounded in her
chest and her stomach roiled with anxiety, but she managed a reasonably graceful curtsy considering the circumst
ances. "And Mr. Wickham-what a great surprise to encounter you here! I should ha
ve thought you would be halfway to Brighton by now." If Elizabeth was struggling to maintain her composure, Miss Darcy was waging a s
imilar battle, with considerably less success. She blushed deeply and looked to
Mr. Wickham with beseeching alarm. Wickham was, as ever, unruffled. He bowed dee
ply. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet, what a pleasure." He took her hand and pressed it to his
lips before Elizabeth could con- ceive of any politic method of deterring this
most unwelcome liberty. At least she was wearing gloves. "Miss Darcy and I are enjoying an afternoon of shopping," he offered effortlessl
y. "I have business here in London, so I requested leave from Colonel Forster to
rejoin the regiment in some days' time in Brighton. Miss Darcy here was in de
sperate need of gloves for Mr. Bingley's wedding, and so it was my great pleasur
e to escort her to town. As an old family friend, of course." "Of course." Elizabeth avoided meeting his gaze, certain that her contempt for t
his rogue would be obvious should she dare. "We are on a similar errand, making
last-minute 50 purchases for the wedding. Does your brother accompany you to town, Miss Darcy?" The young lady paled. "My brother?" Wickham interjected smoothly. "Surely, Miss Bennet, a gentleman of Mr. Darcy's i
mport would not be bothered with such a trivial mission as ours. Such great men
can scarcely be troubled to think of gloves, or fans, or any of the other trifle
s so essential to a lady's happiness." Elizabeth could no longer hold her tongue. "You are undoubtedly correct, Mr. Wic
kham. Mr. Darcy is gravely concerned for his sister's welfare, to be sure. But i
t is difficult indeed to imagine him taking an exceptional interest in gloves
or fans. In defining 'essentials,' you could not be more dissimilar." Mr. Wickha
m's expression of discomfiture was immediate, but Elizabeth quickly donned a d
is- arming smile. "Miss Darcy, may I introduce you to my aunt and uncle?" Miss Darcy nodded. At the mention of her brother, she had released Mr. Wickham's
arm as if it were a live snake. Elizabeth now grasped her elbow gently and led
her to where her aunt and uncle were standing, a few paces away. "Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner, may I present Miss Darcy." "We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Darcy," her aunt said. "I had
the very great pleasure of meeting Mr. Darcy several weeks ago." Miss Darcy flushed at this mention of her brother and then paled as Elizabeth in
troduced Mr. Wickham. To her relief, her aunt and uncle greeted him cordially, b
etraying nothing. "I say, Mr. Wickham, if you are familiar with this district, you may do us a gre
at service." Mr. Gardiner's manner was all amiability and ease, and Wickham, tru
e to form, seized an opportunity to ingratiate himself. "I am always glad to be of assistance." "My sister, Mrs. Bennet, is quite insistent that champagne be served at her da
ughter's wedding breakfast, and no explanation of war or blockades will dissuade
her. I understand some of the city's finest wine merchants are somewhere along
this street, and I have promised to make inquiries on her behalf. With little ho
pe of success, you understand." "I think you shall have as much luck finding champagne among these haberdasherie
s as you will in any wine shop," Wickham replied. "It will come prodigiously dea
r if you do. But if you are determined to search, there are some very fine wine merchants tow
ard the end of the street-and I believe a few more in old Bond Street." "Would you be so good as to step outside with me and give the direction to my dr
iver? I am afraid we do not frequent this district, and my wife will tell you
I am notorious for losing my bearings in an unfamiliar street." Elizabeth stifled a burst of laughter. A more inappropriate occasion for mirth
she could not imagine, but to hear her uncle claim ignorance of London's geography strained her composure. Mr. Gard
iner had guided their tour of the Peak District with nary a wrong turning in a f
ortnight's travel. Fortunately, Mr. Wickham was not acquainted with the infallib
ility of her uncle's internal compass. "As I said, I am glad to be of any assistance." He bowed to the ladies. "I shall
return shortly," he murmured to Miss Darcy. Then he followed Mr. Gardiner out t
o the street, and Elizabeth rejoiced in knowing his last promise to Miss Darcy w
ould be broken as certainly as all his others. After the gentlemen departed, Elizabeth was able to give Miss Darcy a genuine sm
ile. She begged the young lady's assistance in selecting a parasol to complement
Jane's wedding gown. In all the excitement of recent weeks, Elizabeth realize
d she had neglected to purchase a wedding gift for her dearest sister, and it de
lighted her to have an honest purpose to mitigate the amount of deceit she had e
mployed throughout the day. By the time a lovely lace-fringed parasol had been selected, purchased, and wr
apped, Elizabeth felt secure that neither her uncle nor Mr. Wickham would be ret
urning to the draper's. The burden now became acquainting Miss Darcy with this r
eality. At a loss, Elizabeth cast her aunt a silent, pleading look. "How fatiguing it is, standing about in shops on such a warm day!" her aunt decl
ared. "Ladies, let us hire a carriage to Berkeley Square and treat ourselves t
o an ice at Gunter's." "Oh, I adore Gunter's!" Miss Darcy exclaimed. "But we must wait for Mr. Wickham
to return, of course." Elizabeth and her aunt exchanged glances. Elizabeth drew near to the young lady,
took her arm gently, and whispered, "Mr. Wickham will not be returning, Miss
Darcy." "But certainly he shall!" she objected in a loud voice, drawing the attention of
two ladies perusing a nearby display of feathers. "Of course, dear," Aunt Gardiner took Miss Darcy's other arm and began to lead h
er toward the front of the shop. "But let us look for him in the street. You kno
w how easily a simple conversation between gentlemen regarding wine becomes a lengthy debate
of blockades and war strategy-it may be hours before they recall our presence." When the men were nowhere to be found outside the establishment, Miss Darcy wa
s reluctantly persuaded to hire a coach and wait within, but she would not hear
of quitting Bond Street without Mr. Wickham. "To be sure, he will return any moment," she insisted, peering through the coach
window at the passing crowds. "He must, for in a few hours we are-that is, he is scheduled to depart for..." "For Gretna Green?" Elizabeth asked quietly. "But-then you know!" Miss Darcy flushed and pressed her handkerchief to her mout
h. "But how..." Elizabeth pulled Miss Darcy's letter from her reticule. "Yes, I know," she said
quietly, passing Miss Darcy the folded paper. "But you may be assured that no one else shall ever learn of this from
me, or from my aunt." Miss Darcy took the letter in her trembling hand. "Oh, my brother! I should have
suspected that he would attempt to stop us." "Miss Darcy, if you search your heart, I believe you will find that you did susp
ect just that. Surely this is why you left him such a letter-you were uncertain
yourself about this rash engagement, and you knew Mr. Darcy would never allow
you to come to any harm." "Come to harm? Surely, I could never come to harm at the hands of Mr. Wickham. H
e has been a trusted friend of our family since my childhood. My father loved hi
m almost as a son." "Miss Darcy, the details are not mine to divulge, but you must believe me when I
tell you that Mr. Wickham has used both your father and your brother very ill.
He knew that under no reasonable circumstances would Mr. Darcy allow you to marr
y him. Why else would he press for this hasty elopement?" "For love, of course! And for the assurance that we would never be parted...ther
e are many reasons!" Miss Darcy replied. "Yes, to be sure. Thirty-thousand of them, to be exact. Mr. Wickham is desperate
for funds, Miss Darcy. He has debts with shopkeepers and gentlemen all over Lon
don, and no doubt in Meryton as well. When he left the draper's with my uncle, he was immedi
ately taken into custody of the magistrate. He will be held for nonpayment, and
with any good fortune, sent to debtor's prison directly." "I cannot believe it! All gentlemen have debts. Whatever Mr. Wickham's misfortun
es, it would be my joy to assist him. He has given me so much, Miss Bennet-you c
annot know! My own brother is not even aware of his kindness to me, for Fitzwill
iam is so rarely in residence at our home, he has missed every one of Mr. Wickha
m's visits." "Mr. Wickham has called on you? Repeatedly?" Elizabeth did not know why she shou
ld be astonished at any further evidence of that man's devious machinations. "Oh, yes-ever since the establishment was set up for me here in London, under th
e direction of Mrs. Younge. It was a dreadful time. I had never been from Pember
ley for so long a duration, and it seemed Fitzwilliam was always away. I was so
lonely, but Mr. Wickham took such pity on me! Occasionally he might call, bringi
ng flowers or sweets, but more often we would meet by chance-while walking in th
e park, or at exhibitions Mrs. Younge thought beneficial to my education. So man
y happy coincidences-they must be attributed to our exceptional similarity of mi
nd and disposition, George said." So many coincidences, indeed! Elizabeth thought. Surely these encounters signale
d some greater design, but she was not inclined to credit either chance or fate.
It seemed far more likely that Mr. Darcy had been greatly deceived in the chara
cter of this Mrs. Younge. 5? "George never failed to make me smile and laugh at his stories." Miss Darcy cont
inued. And he would ask me questions and listen to my answers, as no one else
ever did." She picked at the stitches on her handkerchief nervously, and Elizabe
th moved to sit beside her. "But then I took ill, and poor Mrs. Younge..." Miss Darcy's voice trailed off, a
nd she stared silently out the carriage window for some moments. "The next I h
eard, Mr. Wickham had entered the militia. You may imagine my complete surprise
and delight to meet with him in Meryton! Our reunion there removed any doubt fro
m my mind-we are meant for each other, I am certain of it." Miss Darcy's forlorn
expression indicated anything but certainty, however. She balled the handkerc
hief tightly in her fist and rested her forehead against the window-glass. Elizabeth cast her aunt a questioning glance, and Mrs. Gardiner nodded slightly
in response. She gave a direction to the coachman, and the carriage lurched into
motion. For some time, all three ladies were silent. "But our transport to Scotland is already booked!" Miss Darcy suddenly objected
as they turned on to a residential street. "We leave this evening, on the mail c
oach. He has already purchased the wedding ring!" On Darcy credit, no doubt, Elizabeth thought to herself. She pitied the young
lady immensely. Clearly, Miss Darcy was incapable of absorbing the whole truth o
f Mr. Wickham's character in one afternoon. When at last she did comprehend his villai
ny, the poor girl would be devastated. She covered Miss Darcy's hand and squeeze
d it lightly. "Miss Darcy, I fear no one will be traveling tonight. But if you and Mr. Wickham
are truly meant for one another as you say, these misunderstandings will be cle
ared up in time. Please, I urge you-discuss these matters and your feelings with
your brother." "Was he terribly angry?" "Mr. Darcy? Oh, no. His anger was reserved for Mr. Wickham alone. For you, he sh
owed only the deepest concern. He will be greatly relieved to learn you are safe at home." The carriage rolled to a halt before a grand townhouse. "Oh!" Miss Darcy sighed
softly. "Home." By now, Miss Darcy was thoroughly overwhelmed by the emotions and revelations of
such a day. She numbly accepted the footman's assistance in alighting from the
carriage and entered her own home as though it had always been her intended de
stination. Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth introduced themselves to the rather shock
ed housekeeper, a formidable woman whose severe bearing suited them perfectly at
the moment. Articulating as few details of the matter as possible, they expre
ssed to her the utmost importance of keeping Miss Darcy safe at home until her
brother should arrive. Mrs. Gardiner left her husband's card as a reference sho
uld Mr. Darcy require further explanation on his return. Elizabeth spent most of the journey back to Cheapside crying quietly against her
aunt's shoulder. She could not 52 ascribe her tears to any one emotion, but rather to the con- fluence of so many
extreme sensations-anxiety, pity, fatigue, relief. She wiped her eyes and comp
osed herself as they entered Gracechurch Street, where a highly put-out Hill awa
ited with the Bennet family coach and four. "MissElizabeth,"hegreetedherwithasurlycountenance. "Your father requests your pr
esence at Longbourn." "Go home, dear," her aunt said gently. "Your uncle will send an express to Mr. D
arcy directly, but there is nothing further you can do. Jane and your mother wil
l be needing you-and the farm needs the horses." She smiled warmly. Elizabeth had no available words to express her gratitude to her aunt-a heartfel
t parting embrace was all she could manage. The length of the June day was such that the carriage reached Longbourn in the l
ast lingering hour of dusk. It seemed impossible to Elizabeth that so much had t
ranspired since this hour yesterday, when she had alighted from the same carriag
e at Lucas Lodge. Rationality argued that she might now rest easy-with Georgiana
secure at the Darcy townhouse and Wickham under lock and key, her own return
home ought to relieve all anxiety. But Mr. Darcy, no doubt still making for Scot
land at breakneck speed, could not enjoy any respite from his apprehension and g
rief. Until he knew his sister to be safe from further harm, neither would Eliza
beth feel at peace. Mr. Bennet was waiting at the door when she entered. "I will see you in my libra
ry, Elizabeth." She nodded and followed him silently, sitting down in the chair opposite his des
k as he closed the door behind them. Mr. Bennet preferred to stand. "Well, child, let me tell you that you are exceedingly fortunate in one thing. I
drank entirely too much of Sir William's port last night and have suffered the most wretched headache for the
entire day. As such, the decreased clam- or of our household in Lydia's absence
was not entirely unwelcome, and I was loath to invoke your mother's excesses
by notifying her of your impetuous insubordination. I have abided by your wishes
then, and allowed Kitty's impression of events to stand undisputed." "Thank you, Papa." "I am seriously displeased, Lizzy. I shall expect a full accounting of this be
havior." His stern demeanor softened slightly. Her father appeared angered, to b
e sure, but his obvious relief at seeing her safely returned to Longbourn seemed
to vanquish all disciplinary intent. Elizabeth realized that her father, too,
had suffered a day of acute anxiety. "We will speak of this another time, Lizzy. For now, you may go upstairs and res
t. I will send Mrs. Hill with a tray." "Yes, Papa."?He opened the door for her to leave, and she rose obedi- ently. As she quit the room, however, she was moved by sudden impulse to kiss he
r father's cheek. "I am so sorry, Papa," she whispered. "I know, child," he replied softly. "Though for your own sake, I do hope you man
aged to procure a few bottles of champagne during the course of this escapade. O
therwise, your mother will not be so forgiving." Chapter 15 LONGBOURN When Mrs. Bennet roused herself from bed the morning following the Lucases' ball
, at rather a later hour than was her usual habit, she discovered what great tre
achery had befallen Longbourn while she slept. Her best punch recipe had gone missing f
rom its place of safekeeping-a small crack in the larder wall behind the onion b
in. On top of this, the grocer had perpetrated a most despicable fraud on Mrs. H
ill, passing off middling-grade sugar at top price. Such coarse stuff would neve
r produce a passably white ic- ing for the wedding cake. By the time she joined her family at the breakfast table, Mrs. Bennet was in a s
tate of such agitation over the appar- ent conspiracy to ruin Jane's wedding bre
akfast, she could scarcely be bothered to notice that two of her other daugh- te
rs were missing. The news that Lydia had been packed off to Brighton without so
much as a fare-thee-well hardly signified, except for the satisfaction that at l
east one Bennet girl should dine on decent fish-for there was naught but common
oysters and a few sunken-eyed cod to be had in Meryton! A note arrived from Netherfield, and, in another singular example of Mrs. Bennet
's distraction, Jane was allowed to read it unmolested. "How shocking!" Jane said, upon reaching the letter's end. "Mr. Bingley reports
that Miss Darcy took gravely ill during the night. Mr. Darcy arranged for her im
mediate removal to town, that she might be seen by their physician at once. It is not known whether he will return for the wedding." "Well, there is a comfort!
" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "Such a proud sort of gentleman, carting the poor girl
all the way to London rather than engage the services of a country apothecary. Let him
miss the wedding, then. At least I shall not be forced to suffer his contempt w
hen he is offered nothing finer to drink than second-rate Madeira! That Mr. Hurs
t can stand up for your Mr. Bingley just as well-so long as his cup is never emp
ty, he does not quibble about the contents." All this Jane imparted to Elizabeth upon her return that evening. Elizabeth was
relieved that such a plausible explanation of the Darcys' hasty departure had
been managed. It was fortunate indeed that Mr. Darcy's reputation for haughtines
s amongst the Meryton populace lent credibility to an otherwise rather incredibl
e tale. If Mr. Bingley knew more about the true situation than his letter intimated, he
appeared not to have told Jane. And 53 Jane, being a trusting soul, did not question her sister further. When present
ed with her lovely new parasol, she admired the elegant lace trim, the finenes
s of the silk, and the delicate tooling of the handle. Her mind was attuned to e
very detail of the wedding preparations, but in her delight and preoccupation sh
e completely failed to note Elizabeth's exhaustion and distress. Indeed, over the course of the next few days Elizabeth became quite accustomed t
o the sensation of invisibility. She moved through Longbourn in a strange and lo
nely cap- sule of silence. At any moment, she expected a terse sum- mons to Mr.
Bennet's library to meet her reckoning, but her transgressions thus far garnered
Elizabeth only demotion to the sort of treatment her father typically reserved
for her younger sisters-distance and derision. With the imminent arrival of hous
eguests and a fast-approaching wedding day, Mrs. Bennet had more use for Elizabe
th's hands than her opinions, and if her second daughter seems less inclined to
conversation of late, so much the better. Neither Kitty's sulking nor Mary's ser
monizing required any response from her. Therefore, Elizabeth kept company with her own thoughts more often than not. She
created countless scenarios in her mind, mentally tracing the routes Mr. Darcy
might have traveled in his pursuit of his sister and Mr. Wickham. She tried to i
magine at what locations he might possibly receive her uncle's express and guess
ed how rapidly thereafter he could return to London. Whenever she was able to pi
cture a sequence of events that placed him at the Darcy townhouse an hour earlie
r than her previous best estimate, she took heart. By the second morning after h
er trip to London, she felt it more probable than not that he was at least en ro
ute to town, and at best already there. She hoped in vain for confirmation of hi
s arrival, even as she knew any such com- munication to be impossible. Even if p
ropriety allowed him to write, she could not expect him to trust such delicate i
nformation to a letter. It was the third day after Georgiana's disappearance, and two days before Jane w
as to become Mrs. Bingley, when the Gardiners arrived at Longbourn for the weddi
ng. As much as Elizabeth longed to claim her aunt's exclusive company, she knew
Jane deserved the greatest measure of the visitors' attention. When the ladies a
djourned to the drawing room after dinner, she listened politely, if impatiently
, as Jane and Mrs. Bennet acquainted her aunt with every exacting detail of the
wedding preparations. When Jane mentioned Miss Darcy's sudden illness and the un
likely return of Mr. Darcy for the ceremony, Aunt Gardiner exchanged a subtle gl
ance with Elizabeth, but otherwise received the knowledge with no hint of recogn
ition. Mr. Bennet appeared in the doorway. "Elizabeth, I will see you in my library." Elizabeth slowly put aside her needlework and complied with his request, trying
to behave as though it were a request and not a demand phrased to brook no con
tradic- 54 tion. She entered the library to find both her father and uncle seated and silen
t. They cocked their heads to regard her with detached curiosity, as they might
examine a new specimen of African moth. "Be seated, Lizzy," her father said. "I fear this will not be a brief interview.
"Elizabeth seated herself primly on the edge of the indicated chair, unable to
relax into its comfort. "Papa..." she began in an impassioned attitude of defens
e, as Mr. Bennet quickly shushed her with a curt wave of his hand. "I believe I shall do the talking for a spell, Elizabeth." He opened the top dra
wer of his desk and withdrew a folded paper. He opened it forcefully, snapping t
he creases flat, and held the offending missive at arm's length, squinting to ma
ke out Elizabeth's compact penmanship. "Dear Papa," he read aloud in a dispassionate tone. "Lydia and I are gone with M
rs. Forster. Lydia will travel on to Brighton as invited, but I will go only so
far as my aunt and uncle's in Cheapside. Such dreadful events as necessitate t
his hasty trip I cannot begin to explain in a note, but please trust that only t
he most dire circumstances would prompt me to take such an action without your p
ermission. Please be assured that your daughters are safe, and I promise to ex
plain the entire matter upon my return. I have given Kitty and Lydia to understa
nd that this journey is under- taken with your permission. For the sake of your
daughters' reputations and the security of all concerned, I beg you not to contr
adict this assumption until I speak with you again. Your daughter, Elizabeth."?He folded the letter crisply and carefully replaced i
t in the drawer. He then sat back in his chair and confronted his daughter directly. "Well, Lizzy? What can you possibly have to say for yourself?" Elizabeth had felt her throat steadily constrict as her father read the note a
loud. She gripped the arm of her chair and managed to coax a hoarse whisper from
her dry lips. "I am most heartily sorry, Papa, for the distress my actions have caused you.
I know in writing such a letter I took great liberties with your trust and forbe
arance." She cleared her throat. "It was necessary to go to London without a moment's del
ay, for..." Here Elizabeth's voice failed her. How much ought she tell her fathe
r? The details of Miss Darcy's elopement were not hers to divulge, but she knew
a vague explanation would not appease her father's curiosity. "Yes, yes," her father interrupted impatiently. "You may spare me the tale of th
is dastardly Mr. Wickham and his elopement with Miss Darcy. Your uncle has expla
ined as much to me already, as well as your role in their discovery. To think that man's smile had all of Meryton so charmed! But the revelation of h
is true character is no less shocking to me, Elizabeth, than the outrageous be
havior of my own daughter. However did you learn of this elopement? Furthermore,
why should it be any of your concern?" Elizabeth was grateful that her father was already acquainted with the facts o
f the matter and she need not ac- tively betray Mr. Darcy's confidence once more
."I happened to meet Mr. Darcy while out walking that morning. I came upon him sh
ortly after he had learned of his sister's disappearance. Her note to him sugges
ted they would be bound for Gretna Green, and he was anxious to be off in pursui
t of them. It was only after he had left that I recollected something Mr. Wickha
m had once said-something Mr. Darcy himself could not have known-and it convin
ced me that the couple had fled to London instead. Had there been any way of ale
rting Mr. Darcy to this information, I should have done so. As it were, I felt
the only hope of discovering Miss Darcy in time to preserve her reputation rest
ed in my hands." Mr. Bennet shook his head. "Lizzy, we all know Mr. Darcy to be a proud, disagree
able sort of man. What were you thinking, to meddle thus in his personal affairs
? Did you honestly expect he would welcome your interference?" Until that moment, the thought that Mr. Darcy might take offense at her actions
had never crossed Elizabeth's mind. So long as Miss Darcy was safe, she reasoned
, he could only rejoice and be grateful for her intervention. Her father's disap
probation, however, suggested she may not have considered all the implications o
f her involvement. "I would have done the same for Maria Lucas, or Mary King, or any other unfortun
ate young lady taken in by Mr. Wickham's schemes," she said. "Had Lydia or Kitty
any fortune to speak of, Wickham might have just as easily absconded with one o
f them. But you are perfectly correct, Papa. It was a presumption on my part t
o involve myself, and Mr. Darcy would have every right to resent me for it." "Well, Edward, you have spoken with the gentleman himself. Does he hold Lizzy'
s vain interference against her?" Elizabeth looked to her uncle sharply. "You have seen Mr. Darcy?" "We all know you to be a clever girl, Lizzy, but it appears Mr. Darcy is no simp
leton himself. When he found no trace of Miss Darcy or Wickham in the next few c
oaching stages toward Scotland, he quickly returned to town. From what he told m
e the following morning, he arrived rather late in the day and only returned to
his home after making an exhaustive search of the coaching inns and some unsa- v
ory districts he knew Wickham to frequent. When he did return to his townhouse l
ate that night, he was exceedingly relieved to discover his sister already there
." Relief surged through Elizabeth as she received the knowledge that Mr. Darcy was
safe in London. She inhaled deeply, feeling as though she drew her first real b
reath in three days. "And Mr. Darcy called on you the next morning?" Such happy news she would gladly
hear repeated. "Yes. I take it Miss Darcy was rather disinclined to divulge any details of her
adventure, so he sought the information from me. And, of course, there was the matter of what to do about this Wickham c
haracter." "What to do about him?" Elizabeth was confused. "Is he not in debtor's prison?" Her uncle chuckled and took a slow sip of sherry, vex- ing his niece greatly wit
h each moment he delayed his response. "Lizzy, on such short notice, I was by no means able to assemble a strong case a
gainst the man. I had to call in several favors just to convince a magistrate
to apprehend him on the basis of a 2-pound 7-shilling debt to a tailor. Such a f
limsy charge was enough to have him held a few days, but nothing more. Once I ac
quainted Mr. Darcy with the details of Wickham's arrest, the resolution was his
to decide. He could attempt to build a stronger case that would merit imprisonme
nt, or allow him to be released and deal with the scoundrel on his own terms." Mr. Bennet refilled the sherry glasses. "Were I in his situation, I would rath
er run the man through and be done with him myself." A duel! Elizabeth's stomach lurched violently. "Surely Mr. Darcy would never res
ort to bloodshed!" "He thought long and hard about it, Lizzy," her uncle replied. "I cannot say I b
lame him. In the end, however, he chose the more difficult alternative and began
to assemble a list of Wickham's likely creditors. Had time been less scarce, he
might have delegated the task of canvassing them to his solicitors. I offered m
y own assistance in approaching the creditors in trade, but it fell to him to lo
cate the gentlemen, make inquiries into gaming debts they had likely forgotten
or would prefer to forget, and persuade them to press charges. It was an endeav
or that consumed the entirety of the past two days, and one that occasioned Mr.
Darcy no small amount of degradation." "But the case against Mr. Wickham-is it now sufficient?" "Oh, yes. Wickham will be on his way to The Fleet soon enough. That is, unless M
r. Darcy exerts some influence to obtain a sentence of transportation." Elizabeth considered the mortification Mr. Darcy must have undergone in approach
ing his peers and old friends on such a mission. She imagined him proceeding fro
m gentlemen's clubs to elegant homes, inquiring into his acquaintances' person
al affairs and politely deflecting any similar inquiries into his. If the motive
for his sudden interest in bringing Wickham to justice were ever known, Miss
Darcy's reputation would be irreparably tarnished. Surely her father and uncle spoke truly when they said a duel would have been th
e easier and more satisfying course of action. But even if Mr. Darcy emerged fro
m such a con- frontation unscathed, his sister's reputation would not, if the ca
use of the duel ever became known. Something akin to regret took root in Elizabeth's mind for the first time since
her impetuous decision to go to London. When she had sought her uncle's assistan
ce, hav- 55 ing Wickham arrested for nonpayment had seemed the ideal solution to the Darcys'
problems. Now she realized for the first time the predicament in which she had
placed Mr. Darcy. Her actions had left him two alternatives, one of which placed
him in physical danger and both of which skirted uncomfortably close to public
disclosure. Left to his own resources, Mr. Darcy might very well have located hi
s sister himself and devised an entirely different way to handle Wickham, one th
at was both safe and discreet. He might have remanded him to Colonel Forster to
be charged with desertion, or quietly arranged his transportation to the America
s with none the wiser. Mr. Gardiner seemed to note Elizabeth's growing discomfiture. "To be sure, Mr. Darcy had other methods at his disposal for dealing with Wick
ham, had he wished it, but he seemed bent on seeing the scoundrel brought to jus
tice. He appeared to blame himself for not taking action long ago, when he first
knew the true nature of Wickham's character. Had he sacrificed a small amount o
f pride then, he said, he might have saved his sister and others a great deal of
pain. Whatever injury recent events have inflicted on his dignity, Mr. Darcy seemed to
view it as his own just punishment." Mr. Bennet was all astonishment. "This is a very different picture of the man! H
ere in Hertfordshire, he has been all officious arrogance from the very beginnin
g." It pained Elizabeth to hear Mr. Darcy spoken of in such a manner, especially whe
n her father phrased his vitriol in terms so close to her own unjust accusations
in April. "Indeed, Papa, Mr. Darcy has no improper pride," she objected spiritedly. "He is
most amiable." "So I was inclined to believe myself, until last evening," her uncle said. "Until last evening?" Elizabeth asked.?Mr. Bennet sighed, removing his spectacle
s to massage the bridge of his nose wearily.?"Elizabeth, we have not yet settled the question
of your involvement in this debacle. Do you honestly expect us to believe that Mr. Darcy
encountered you by chance that morning? If he believed his sister to be bound f
or Gretna Green, I cannot credit why he would be lingering in the lane to Longbo
urn. Nor can I understand why he should pause to acquaint his friend's neighbor
with all the sordid details of his sister's disappearance. Can you explain it?" "I am afraid I cannot." At least, I would rather not, she thought to herself. "Neither could Mr. Darcy-not to my satisfaction, at any rate," her uncle said. H
e countered Elizabeth's shocked expression with a look of paternal authority.
"I am not your father, Lizzy, but I am one of your closest relations. I felt it
my duty, once a satisfactory resolution to this Wickham affair seemed secure, to
ask some questions of Mr. Darcy. I had the opportunity to do so last evening, w
hen he called to offer his thanks for my assistance. After expressing that I was
happy to be of service to him, I took the same line 56 of questioning your father has just posed to you. I do not think it extraordinar
y that an uncle should ask a gentleman to explain the intentions behind a furtiv
e daybreak rendezvous with my niece." "Furtive rendezvous!" Elizabeth spluttered. "I often walk out in the mornings! T
here is nothing so unusual..." "You may save your explanations," her uncle interjected. "Mr. Darcy admitted tha
t chance had little to do with your meeting. You will understand then, Lizzy, I
felt it my duty to inquire whether there exists an understanding between the two of you. I asked him to tell me, once and for all, whether he was engaged
to you." "And what was his response?" Mr. Bennet asked, all the while regarding his daugh
ter with puzzlement. "He said he was not."?"Is this true, Elizabeth?" her father asked. Elizabeth nodded. "There is no understanding between us." Mr. Gardiner addressed her father. "Given the near escape of his own sister, I
told Mr. Darcy that surely he could not fail to comprehend the danger Elizabeth
assumed in this sequence of events. In the first place, simply agreeing to
this clandestine meeting-then traveling to London completely unbeknownst to her
parents." He turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzy, you must realize you put your own repu
tation at great risk for the sake of protecting Miss Darcy's." Her uncle rose from his chair and studied a framed map hanging on the wall as he
continued. "I told Mr. Darcy, 'If you have any regard for the honor and credibi
lity of my niece, then promise me that you will enter into an engagement with
her directly, as a matter of principle.'" "Oh, Uncle!" Elizabeth gasped. She buried her face in her hands. "I cannot imagi
ne how Mr. Darcy must have received such an insulting demand," she thought alo
ud. "I will save you the trouble of imagining, Lizzy, for I will tell you his respon
se. He was gravely silent for some time. Then he said firmly, 'I can make no promise of the kind.'" Mr. Bennet set down h
is sherry glass with a forceful clat- ter that made Elizabeth cringe. "The nerve of such a man! Is this to be endured?
Surely, Lizzy does not possess his connections or fortune, but she is a gentl
eman's daughter and therefore his equal. It as not as though he would be quittin
g his own sphere to marry her." "I, too, was shocked and astonished," Mr. Gardiner said. "I thought him to be a
more reasonable young man. But when I attempted to argue the point further, he m
erely rose and said, 'I must beg you to importune me no further on the subject.'
He then quit the house immediately without taking his leave."?Elizabeth absorbed this account in stunned silence.?Mr. Benne
t spoke through clenched teeth. "Of all the arrogant, obstinate, headstrong..."?"Father! I beg you, please do not pain me by
speaking of Mr. Darcy in such terms." Elizabeth was near tears. "You do not know what he really is, nor the full truth of the situation." Her father regarded her quizzically. "You cannot claim to like this man, Lizzy!
Are you out of your senses?" Perhaps she had taken leave of her senses, Elizabeth thought, for before she kne
w what she did, she replied, "I do like him. I love him." Indeed, she had not kn
own how deeply she loved him until this moment, when all love must be in vain. "
But how could he think of marriage at such a time, when all his concern must be
for his sister? And Papa, as you say, he may very well resent my influence in th
e matter, which goes deeper than you realize and without which the entire affa
ir might never have transpired." Elizabeth slowly explained her thoughtless endorsement of Miss Darcy's improper
behavior when the young lady first slipped from Netherfield unnoticed; how she p
ersuad- ed Mr. Darcy to permit his sister to attend the Lucases' ball; the woefu
l neglect that evening that allowed Wickham and Miss Darcy the opportunity to pl
an the elopement; and how in acknowledging her attachment to Mr. Darcy she had i
nadvertently encouraged Miss Darcy's own infatu- ation. To complete the humiliat
ing extent of her interference, her reckless journey to London now appeared to
have been wholly unnecessary. She had forced Mr. Darcy into the mortification o
f gathering evidence against Wickham, when he might have located his sister on h
is own and resolved the situation in his own way. "Who could blame him if he faults me for this pattern of impertinent interferenc
e?" she cried. In truth, had she not felt completely justified in hating Mr. Dar
cy for a far lesser offense? His efforts to separate Mr. Bingley from Jane now s
eemed utterly insignificant in comparison to her own presumptive behavior. Mr. Bennet offered his daughter his handkerchief. Her hand felt unnaturally heav
y as she reached to accept it, and her heart felt likewise leaden. All hope must
sink under such a circumstance. For even if she had not acted in the matter,
Elizabeth realized, even if Mr. Darcy's affections and wishes remained unchanged
-this affair made any future connection between them an impossibility. Thus far, Miss Darcy's unfortunate escapade had eluded public notice, but it w
as by no means certain that this would remain the case. Elizabeth knew rumor to
waft like candle smoke-most acrid after the flame is snuffed, and once dissipate
d, impossible to retrieve. If Miss Darcy's reputation was to remain unsullied,
any hint of further scandal or impropriety must be avoided at all cost. Shoul
d Mr. Darcy himself wish to marry, his choice of wife must be beyond any suspi
cion or reproach. Mrs. Hurst had expressed a similar opinion, but recent events
seemed to confirm it as a matter of fact-only a lady of the highest station and
refinement could fill the role of Mrs. Darcy. Mr. Gardiner went to Elizabeth and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Eli
zabeth, if Mr. Darcy has compromised you in any way, or made promises he now w
ould attempt to deny, there are ways of applying pressure in this situation. He can b
e made to marry you." "Oh, Uncle! I beg you to do nothing of the sort. Mr. Darcy has never acted disho
norably toward me. He has not compromised my virtue in the slightest way. As to
my feelings and behavior, they are mine alone to own and regret. He cannot be
held responsible for my actions this week, any more that he can be accused of en
couraging my affections. Neither duty, nor honor, nor gratitude has any claim on
him in the present instance. Please do not attempt to influence him through a
ny such appeal." "Well, I cannot say I am eager to attempt it, for my part," her father said. "Mr
. Darcy is not the sort of man one forces to do anything, and I could not bear t
o part with you to one so unworthy. If you assure us that he has not compromised
or misled you, Lizzy, we will take your word and consider the matter settled." "Thank you, Papa." Elizabeth rose on unsteady legs. It was a queer sensation ind
eed, to walk away from this scene so whole of body, free of any visible injury o
r scar. She was in every physical way unaltered, and yet utterly torn apart with
in. It felt as if her soul claimed no acquaintance with her mind, and her consci
ence was a stranger to her heart. This feeling of disconnection increased as a wholly unrelated concern entered he
r thoughts. Her voice sounded strangely distant as she addressed her father. "Papa, you would be wise to call Lydia home from Brighton immediately. Indeed, I
beg you to do it. I deeply regret involving her at all in this business. It was
most imprudent of me to send her with Mrs. Forster." "Do not be so hard on yourself, Lizzy. In that respect, you may have done us all
a favor. Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public p
lace or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or in
con- venience to her family as under the present circumstances." "But her behavior, Papa! Not only is Lydia the most determined flirt that ever
made herself and her family ridiculous, but after this incident with Miss Darcy
you must see the danger of allowing such impropriety to go unchecked." Mr. Bennet remained unmoved by his daughter's heartfelt plea. "Oh, Colonel For
ster is a sensible man and will keep her out of any real mischief. We shall have
no peace at Longbourn if she is made to return. Besides, Lydia is luckily far t
oo poor to be an object of prey to anyone." Elizabeth tried to believe him, for Lydia's sake as well as her own. After heari
ng Mr. Darcy's words to her uncle, she knew she would be denied the joy of gaini
ng one sister. She could not bear the pain of losing two. 57 Chapter 16 LONGBOURN The day of Jane's wedding dawned fine and mild, as though by special arrangement
contrived to complement the bride's own serene beauty. One might suppose that
, in the absence of Lydia, the task of readying five ladies might be accomplished more quickly than the work of prepari
ng six. To the contrary, without Kitty and Lydia's noisy jostling to prod them a
long, the elder Bennet sisters dallied in the atmosphere of compara- tive harmon
y. Elizabeth fussed so particularly over each ringlet that framed Jane's lovely fac
e, the bride began to suffer a crisis of confidence. "Am I so very dreadful, Liz
zy?" Elizabeth stood back to appraise her handiwork and sighed dramatically. "Jane, I
fear it is hopeless. For all my best efforts, I cannot improve on perfection."
She placed a light kiss on her sister's blushing cheek. "Oh, Lizzy, the time! I must not keep Mr. Bingley waiting at the altar!" Elizabeth clucked dismissively. "Mr. Bingley will wait for you until Michaelmas
if you make him, and well he should. Besides, he will have you for the rest of h
is life, Jane! I shall not surrender my dearest sister one minute earlier than I
must." She took pity on the eager bride, however, and ceased her attentions wit
h a smile. "Let us go, then." Mr. Bingley was indeed waiting at the altar of the Meryton church when they arri
ved. He stood flanked by the parish's fresh-faced young vicar, who appeared more
anxious than either bride or groom, and by his groomsman, who eclipsed both gro
om and clergyman in height, composure, and handsomeness. Mr. Darcy had returne
d for the wedding. Elizabeth was shocked and thoroughly disconcerted. On the previous evening, Mr.
Bingley had professed little hope that his friend would attend the ceremony. Not
that prior knowledge of his presence could have prepared her to see him again,
or to suffer his piercing gaze as she approached the altar. Elizabeth looked awa
y quickly, but whether her attention was fixed upon Jane, the vicar, or a spot o
n the stone floor, she could not dislodge the image of his countenance from he
r mind's eye. Throughout the ceremony, which dragged on a good bit longer than i
t ought, owing to the vicar's stammering pauses and silent heavenward ap- peals
for strength, Elizabeth could sense Mr. Darcy's unre- lenting stare. She had suffered two sleepless nights attempting to comprehend Mr. Darcy's cat
egorical refusal of her uncle's de- 58 mand. She could not decide whether his bluntly worded rejection signified some t
rue resentment of her, or merely the subjugation of his feelings to the greater
purpose of preserving his sister's reputation. In the end, Elizabeth gave up h
er attempts to understand it, realizing that no eluci- dation of his motives cou
ld alter the unhappy conclusion. She had resigned herself to the task of dismant
ling all her disappointed hopes, and constructing from the rubble some image of
a future that did not include Mr. Darcy. Her attempts thus far to envision suc
h a prospect resulted in bleak pictures, indeed. And now the man himself stood but a few feet away, a persistent, imposing figure
in her peripheral vision. The temptation to turn her head a few degrees and mee
t his gaze directly was powerful; for some foolish sentiment told her that one g
lance at his expression should reveal the truth of his emotions. Her reason, how
ever, argued that his proud mien would remain inscrutable as ever, and the only
feelings laid bare would be her own. Therefore, she stubbornly trained her gaz
e elsewhere. Unfortunately, Elizabeth found it far simpler to shut her eyes to his presence t
han to banish his memory from her thoughts. It was only too easy to observe the
perspiration beading on the vicar's brow and be reminded of Mr. Collins, and the
mental leap from Mr. Collins to Hunsford was all too readily achieved. It occur
red to Elizabeth that, had the events of that visit-and in particular, that even
ing-un- folded somewhat differently, this might have been her wedding day as w
ell as Jane's. Sustaining an outward appearance of joy under the weight of thi
s cruel realization seemed impossible, but Elizabeth somehow managed to endure t
he remainder of the ceremony and congratulate the happy couple warmly upon its
completion. Upon his arrival at Longbourn for the wedding breakfast, Mr. Darcy was receive
d coolly by Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner. To Mrs. Bennet, however, he was a retur
ning hero of the highest order. For not only had he left his ail- ing sister's b
edside to lend his distinguished presence to the wedding of her eldest daughter,
his servant had preceded him at Longbourn that morning bearing a case of the fi
nest champagne from the Darcy family cellar. Elizabeth's method of avoiding Mr. Darcy throughout the awkward affair was to as
sert her own best social graces and place herself at the center of every lively
grouping. If Mr. Darcy would persist in studying her as she laughed defiantly wi
th Charlotte or joined Aunt Phillips and Mrs. Long to solicit their appraisal of
the various puddings, at least he would not deign to join any such conversation
. So long as she selected her company with an eye toward effusion and merrimen
t, she reasoned, Mr. Darcy might be kept at bay indefinitely. The effort required to maintain this unflagging cheer became increasingly grea
t, however, and once Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had departed in their grand barouche,
Elizabeth's faade quickly began to crumble. She escaped the house and the scores of guests therein and briskly walked the short distance to Longbo
urn's small pond. This tranquil setting had frequently afforded her a welcome re
spite from frustra- tions. Elizabeth yanked off her gloves impatiently and gathered a handful of small pebb
les from near the water's edge. She lobbed them toward the pond's center one by
one, watching the surface of the water shiver with each tiny impact. At the sound of approaching footsteps, a frisson of dread disquieted Elizabeth's
heart, and her hand tightened instinctively around the few remaining stones.
She knew who it must be, but she could not bring herself to confirm her suspicio
n by turning around. In the end there was no need, for he reached her side quick
ly enough. "A lovely prospect," Mr. Darcy said, fixing her with a steady look before turnin
g his gaze toward the gently rip- pling surface of the water as it smoothed to a
mirror finish. "And a fine location for catching frogs, I would imagine." "Quite," she answered
tersely, picking up a larger stone and heaving it into the water, where it landed with a resounding splash. She w
as at a loss to understand his purpose in pursuing her company and engaging he
r in trivial conversation. Surely nothing remained to be said between them that
would not cause one or both of them pain. "Of course, one sees the occasional sn
ake as well." If Mr. Darcy caught the bitterness in her tone, he remained undeterred. "Miss
Bennet, you know me to be a selfish being. I realize this day ought to be reserv
ed for the celebration of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley's joy. However, I can no longer h
elp thanking you for your unexampled courage and kindness in aiding my sister."
This rehearsed, impersonal speech grated on what remained of Elizabeth's patienc
e. So this was his motive, she thought. He wished to express his gratitude, to clea
r all accounts between them that he might sever the acquaintance with a clean co
nscience. Very well, she conceded. She would readily relieve him of any such bur
den, if in so doing she might expunge her own re- grets. The formidable task of
forgetting Mr. Darcy might be made slightly easier without the complication of r
emorse. "Please do not thank me," she said. "I know how my rather misguided compassion i
nduced you to take so much trouble and bear so many mortifications on Mr. Wickha
m's account. If not for my interference, you might have been spared that degrada
tion." "If not for your interference?" he asked, in a tone of surprise and emotion. "Mi
ss Bennet, were it not for your invaluable assistance, my sister might not have
been discovered at all, or at least not before her innocence and reputation were
irreparably harmed. Ever since I learned of your involvement in her rescue, I
have been most anxious to thank you. One day, I am certain Georgiana will add h
er expressions of gratitude to my own. At the moment, her shock and grief will n
ot allow her to appreciate to whom she is truly indebted." "I am sorry to hear how deeply she suffers," Elizabeth replied sincerely, reca
lling Miss Darcy's stricken expression when they parted at Darcy House. "But I cannot claim to be surprised. I am amaze
d that you would leave her again so soon." "Indeed, I did so with extreme reluctance. I must return to her in London this a
fternoon. Only the deepest sense of obligation could have persuaded me to leave
her company for even one day." Elizabeth retrieved her gloves from the fallen log where she had placed them ear
lier, brushing off the dust with thinly-veiled agitation. "Mr. Bingley is fortun
ate to have such a dutiful friend." "Bingley?" Mr. Darcy asked, puzzled. "I cannot deny that my prior commitment to
stand up at his wedding provided some additional inducement. But as much as I va
lue his friendship, I believe I thought only of you." "Sir, I beg you not to trifle with me. I know of your conversation with my unc
le. Please understand, you are under no obligation to provide any further justif
ication of your decisions. I understand your feelings completely, and we may be
silent on the subject forever." She turned her back on him and began to retrace
the path to Longbourn, but Mr. Darcy kept stride with her easily. "I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that you were informed of what may, in a mistake
n light, have given you uneasiness. I did not realize Mr. Gardiner was so little
to be trusted." "You must not blame my uncle. His only concern was for my reputation. I have ass
ured him and my father that my actions were mine alone. You cannot be held respo
nsible for my heedless interference any more than you could be blamed for the br
ash presumption that occasioned it." Her tone became increasingly clipped with e
ach determined stride. "This is no striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure," Mr. Darcy ob
jected. "Although it seems a rather faithful portrait of mine." Elizabeth refuse
d to look at him, but merely redoubled her pace until Mr. Darcy grasped her arm
suddenly. "So long as we are speaking of brash presumptions," he murmured, and drew her fr
om the path into the shade of an ancient walnut tree. Elizabeth looked down to w
here his hand encircled her arm, and he released her slowly, his tight grip beco
ming a tender caress. She glanced up at his dark expression with puzzlement, and
he abruptly withdrew his hand, flexing it into a fist as he turned from her to
pace beneath the tree's low canopy. He removed his hat abruptly and flung it asi
de, raking his fingers through his hair with frustration. When at length he turn
ed to face her, he seemed to have regained some measure of self-possession. "I have learned a hard lesson over the course of our acquaintance, Miss Bennet
, but I fear this occasion is sorely testing my mastery of it." Elizabeth could not imagine what he meant, but she remained silent and waited
for him to continue. "As a child, I was given good principles, but I was left to follow them in pride
and conceit. Being an only son, and 59 for many years an only child, I was spoilt by my parents. Though good themselves
, they allowed, even encouraged me to be selfish and overbearing, to think meanl
y of the rest of the world. A proper humbling has long been my due, but since the death o
f my father, the same arrogance that was my defect in youth became an advantage
of sorts. I had been raised to trust my judgment implicitly, to value my own opi
nion above all others'. When, at a young age, I suddenly became master of an e
state and guardian of my sister, self-doubt became an indulgence I could ill aff
ord. "My obstinacy and arrogance outlasted any reasonable excuse, however, and beca
me deeply rooted in my demeanor. Such I was from eight to eight-and-twenty, and
such I would be still, if not for you. You made me realize how greatly I had err
ed in my conceit. I denied those close to me the power to make decisions that we
re rightfully theirs alone. I thought my judgment superior to any other, never i
magining myself to be blinded by prejudice or made partial by pride. I was wrong
to separate Bingley from your sister. I should not have concealed the truth of
Wickham's character from anyone, least of all my own family. This history of vai
n presumption has occasioned no small amount of pain, and I will be damned if
I make the same mistake again with you!" Elizabeth was alarmed by the violence of this exclamation, and she cast a desper
ate glance homeward. "Mr. Darcy," she began in a trembling voice, "I told you ea
rlier, you are pre- served from making any further mistakes on my account. I wil
l make no claim on your honor or affections." She retreated a step, but he quickly moved to close the distance again. He sighe
d roughly and shook his head, reaching down to where her hands hung as clenched
fists at her sides and taking hold of her wrists. Her pulse throbbed against his
fingertips as she met his piercing gaze. "Forgive me," he said softly. "I had not thought it possible to make a more wr
etched scene of this than I did at Hunsford, but clearly I underestimated my con
siderable talent for mangling declarations of love." "You would speak to me of love?" She could not comprehend him. A small, gaspin
g sob escaped her throat. "But you told my uncle-" "Elizabeth-do you not understand? When your uncle demanded I promise to marry yo
u as a matter of honor, he placed the object of my most fervent desire squarely
in my hands. I had only to close my fingers over it, to indicate my assent, and
my months of torment would be at an end. You cannot know what it cost me to refu
se him. I might have made you mine then, as surely as if you had accepted me you
rself. "But you had not accepted me, and I could not forget it. I hoped your opinion of
me had improved since April. I fancied that your intervention on Georgiana's
behalf implied that you might regard her as a sister. Still, you had refused me
once, and I could not feel so secure in the alteration of your sentiments as to
relieve you of any choice in the matter." 60 His voice softened to a whisper. "I promised your uncle nothing, Elizabeth, beca
use I so desperately desired another opportunity to promise you everything." Elizabeth was far too overwhelmed to say a word, but what her lips could not exp
ress, her other features seemed determined to divulge. She closed her eyes too l
ate to stem the hot, traitorous tears that spilled down her cheeks. Her chin beg
an to quiver inexcusably, and she bit the inside of her cheek in rebuke. Mr. Dar
cy released her wrists, and her eyes flickered open at the sensation of his hand
s gently cup- ping her face. "Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth," he murmured, erasing a tear with a gentle sweep
of his thumb. He slowly inclined his head to hers until his lips rested lightly
against her forehead. She gasped slightly and shut her eyes once again. For some moments they remained thus, silent and im- mobile, as though he expecte
d her to recover her senses and retreat at any instant. Elizabeth's good sense,
however, had abdicated altogether to sensation-or more accurately, a multitude o
f exquisite sensations that only increased as Mr. Darcy's lips trailed a series
of soft, barely perceptible kisses along her brow, grazed gently over her eyelid
, and traversed the ridge of her cheekbone until his breath whispered warm again
st her ear. "Will you have me, Elizabeth?" he asked quietly. Elizabeth could not gather the
composure or even sufficient breath for an immediate reply. Her companion drew back slightly, squarin
g his shoulders with practiced dignity, his anxious gaze searching her expressio
n for encouragement. Slowly, deliberately, she curved the corners of her mouth
into a reassuring smile, and Mr. Darcy's eyes widened with pleasure. He cleared
his throat gently and released her face to take her hand in his. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he pronounced with affected so- lemnity and a poorly co
ncealed smile of his own, "will you do me the inestimable honor of becoming my w
ife?" Elizabeth, feeling all the awkwardness and anxiety of the situation instantly di
ssipate, now forced herself to speak. Her struggle for fluency was not prolonged
, for there was but one word that truly needed to be spoken, and Mr. Darcy's hap
piness upon hearing that long-desired reply was immediately and warmly expressed
. The look of heartfelt delight that diffused over his face became him greatly.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly before gathering her into
a gentle embrace and pressing his cheek to hers. Long-repressed thoughts, emoti
ons, and promises now tumbled forth from each of them, liberally interspersed wi
th novel endearments that quickly became familiar. When the walnut tree's generous shade began to dwindle in the midday sun, Elizab
eth reluctantly withdrew from his embrace with a contented sigh. "We had best re
turn to the house soon, before my father and uncle have occasion to note our abs
ence." Mr. Darcy nodded in agreement, and they set a slow pace in the direction
of Longbourn. "I do not envy you the task of approaching my father," she told him. "After my uncle's report of your last conversation, I am afraid he holds yo
u in very low regard." "I can easily believe it. And how those words must have pained you! You must hav
e thought me devoid of every proper feeling." "I thought you must have hated me," she admitted. "You trusted your sister to my
keeping, and I failed that trust so miserably. And then reading her letter-I fe
lt my guilt increase with each distressing line! I might as well have pushed her
into Wickham's arms. Certainly, I expected such to be your own conclusion. I sh
ould not have blamed you for severing all acquaintance with me." Mr. Darcy's astonishment was sincere. "Blame you? Hate you? Never." He kissed he
r hand and tucked it securely into the crook of his arm. "I was exceedingly angr
y, to be sure, but never with you. How are you to be blamed for the romantic n
otions of a young lady known to you less than a week, much less for the subtle s
cheming of a scoundrel such as Wickham?" Elizabeth could not be satisfied with this reassurance. "Oh, but then I went rus
hing off to London!" she cried. "I involved myself and my relations in what ough
t to have been your private family matter, with no thought to the conse- quences! I am afraid t
o ask what your reaction was, when you called on my uncle that morning and he to
ld you of my interference. Did you not think me terribly impertinent? "No, indeed. I thought you remarkable." He looked down at her with a smile, but
his expression turned serious as he continued. "I cannot express to you my relie
f at finding Georgiana safe at Darcy House that evening. You could not comprehen
d what vile images tormented me as I attempted to imagine her likely whereabouts
at that hour. Indeed, I returned to the house only with the intention of obtain
- ing fresh clothes and a fresh horse, and to dispatch an express to Colonel F
itzwilliam. To learn that she was already at home-to go to her chamber and see w
ith my own eyes how she slept there, so peacefully..." His voice choked with emo
tion, and some moments passed before he continued. "My housekeeper gave me your uncle's card, and I knew immediately to whom I owed
this miracle. When your uncle acquainted me with the details of Wickham's appre
hension, my object then was to ensure that your efforts should not be wasted. Yo
u assumed great risks to see Wickham put under lock and key, and my resolution w
as to make certain, by every ability in my power, that there he would remain. Of
course, it was no less than I ought to have done long ago." "How fortunate for me," said Elizabeth, "that the affair should have reached a s
atisfactory conclusion! I am not at all certain you would praise my good intenti
ons so readily had their result been less favorable." She silenced her com- pani
on's immediate protestations with a playful squeeze of his arm. "Oh, but make a
virtue of it by all means," she teased. "For I must confess, even knowing all th
at I do now, it is likely I would do exactly the same should the situation repea
t itself." The prospect of Longbourn loomed suddenly near, and they entered the small garde
n in which Elizabeth had come upon him so unexpectedly in April. Here Mr. Darcy
paused, pulling her behind a tall hedge that concealed them from view of the hou
se. Elizabeth regarded him quizzically, noting his uncharacteristically tentat
ive expression. "Elizabeth, once we have returned to the house, I shall speak with your father a
t once. Then I must return to London directly. I fear it may be some days before
I am able to return." "But of course!" she replied. "You must be with Georgiana at this time. I shall
miss you, certainly, but she needs you." Mr. Darcy looked relieved. "Thank you for understanding. I shall write you, if
I may." He glanced about the garden, and when his gaze returned to her, it wa
s fixed determinedly on her lips. "It strikes me, however, that these may be o
ur last moments alone for some time, and..." "Yes," she whispered, taking a step toward him.?If Mr. Darcy sought her permissi
on or invitation, this small gesture seemed to satisfy the requirement. He swift
ly gathered her into his arms and pressed her tightly to him, lowering his lips to
hers in a gentle kiss. They broke apart briefly, a pause just long enough for El
izabeth to catch her breath. She found it stolen away just as quickly, however,
as he murmured her name and renewed the kiss, this time with an ardent urgency t
hat was anything but gentle. Long minutes were spent thus in private celebration before they recovered themse
lves sufficiently to entertain thoughts of rejoining the wedding festivities. At
length, they reluctantly agreed it seemed inadvisable, and increasingly impro
per, to delay any longer. Mr. Darcy observed her appreciatively as Elizabeth attempted to put her hair t
o rights. His gaze of open admiration rekindled all the powerful sensations of
his kiss, but in a queerly displaced fashion. For she was reasonably certain th
at at no time during the course of their tender interlude had his lips grazed th
e uppermost edge of her ear, for all it burned so feverishly now, and certainly
not even his boldest caress had approached the tingling hollows of her knees! Sh
e blushed furiously as she struggled with her gloves. "But there is one last question on which my curiosity has not been satisfied," h
e remarked suddenly. "However did you know where to find them?" "It was Ramsgate," she began, explaining to him the series of recollections and
deductions which eventually led her to London, and to Bond Street. "Darling, clever Elizabeth! What do I not owe you!" He took her hands in his and
pressed each to his lips, then placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Elizabeth laughed. "I assure you sir, I did nothing so extraordinary. I simply
spent a lovely afternoon shopping with my aunt!" Her demeanor soon took a pensive turn. "But there is one thing I still owe you,
and I cannot forget it. It is a long overdue apology for my uncivil behavior t
o you at Hunsford, 6? and for the resentment to which I so stubbornly clung even after your letter had
removed all justification for it. It was not until my father pointed out the pr
esumption in my actions regarding Georgiana that I understood the extent of my
offense. Until that moment, I never knew myself! At once, I saw the folly of al
l my previous prejudice against you. In persisting in my censure of your interfe
rence between Mr. Bingley and Jane, I held you to a higher standard than I hel
d myself. I refused you the right to possess a single fault, all the while persi
sting in my own flawed behavior." She rested her forehead against the lapel of h
is coat. "Can you ever forgive me?" Mr. Darcy wrapped his arms about her shoulders and held her to his chest as it s
hook with gentle laughter. "Elizabeth, can you not recall what you told me at Ne
therfield? What service are our faults, if not to draw us into one another's con
fidence and encourage affection?" He kissed the crown of her head firmly before
tilting her face to meet his. "How astute you are, to recollect my every impertinent remark!" she teased, stra
ightening his cravat with a smart tug. "You will puff my pride excessively, you
know, if you continue to quote me with all the authority of Plato. I shall becom
e quite insufferable with my opinions, and then you will regret such encourageme
nt." She playfully traced his jaw with the tips of her fingers, finding his chee
k delightfully rough to the touch and gasping softly as he turned his head to
plant an ardent kiss upon her palm. Placing both arms about his neck, she drew h
im closer until his head inclined to hers. "I can think of no one to whom I would rather entrust all my darkest failings,"
he said, a satisfied smile spread- ing across his face. "I must warn you, for in
stance, that my capacity for restraint is shamefully imperfect." His lips met he
rs again, and they shared a lingering, unhurried kiss that nonetheless ended far
too soon for Elizabeth's preference. "Most shameful, indeed!" she teased in an arch tone that soon dissolved into swe
etness. "We are both of us undeni- ably flawed," she whispered, "but in our impe
rfections, I believe us to be perfectly matched." This notion met with Mr. Dar
cy's immediate agreement, and the passionate embrace that sealed their accord wa
s as all that might be supposed of two people so violently in love. MEpilogue r. Darcy and Mr. Bennet spent the greater part of the afternoon in conference be
hind the closed doors of Mr. Bennet's library, and Elizabeth was never to wring from either of them an uncen- sored account of thei
r conversation. When her would-be betrothed at last emerged, patience and compos
ure worn precariously thin, his report was not so grim as she had begun to ima
gine. Her father had not granted his full consent to an engagement, but neither
had he refused Mr. Darcy's suit outright. It fell to Elizabeth to work on her father over the course of the following week
, shamelessly abusing every privilege that her status of favorite daughter confe
rred. With each de- livery of the morning post to his hand or his afternoon tea
to the library, Mr. Bennet was made to endure an enumera- tion of Mr. Darcy's ad
mirable qualities or some energetic assurance of his excellent character. In this campaign, Elizabeth found an unwelcome ally in her mother. Mrs. Bennet w
ould not hear a cross word spoken against Mr. Darcy now that he had declared his
intentions toward her daughter. If he would supply such carriages and champ
agne for the wedding of a friend, imagine the luxuries Lizzy would enjoy as Mrs.
Darcy herself! And Lizzy's wedding must be ten times as grand as Jane's, she de
clared, as befitting a groom of ten times Mr. Bingley's consequence. Elizabeth grew concerned that her father would find the prospect of further wedd
ing preparations more distasteful than the proposed son-in-law himself. In the e
nd, her assurances regarding the sincerity of their attachment, coupled with t
he promises of a lengthy engagement and some measure of elusive domestic harmo
ny, were sufficient to sway Mr. Bennet to grudgingly give his consent when Mr. D
arcy called a week later. The wedding date was set for November. In truth, deference to Mr. Bennet's fra
yed forbearance with society was the secondary motive for this prolonged engagem
ent, the para- mount consideration being Miss Darcy's fragile emotional state. N
either Elizabeth nor Mr. Darcy wished to cause his sister additional distress by
planning their wedding so close on the heels of her own disappointment. At the outset, their courtship was limited to Mr. Darcy's weekly calls at Longbo
urn-a most unsatisfactory arrangement for both parties, for just as the obliga
tory pleasantries with her family were complete and the awkwardness of a week's
separation overcome, the time for leavetaking was already upon them. On one part
icular occasion, Mr. Darcy arrived at Longbourn in such low spirits that Elizabe
th was forced to squander the precious hours in his company ap- 62 plying gentle persuasion until the source of his ill-humor could be drawn out. It seemed Lady Catherine had paid a call of her own to Darcy House, with the exp
ress purpose of airing her opinions on the unsuitability of his engagement. No
amount of persuasion could convince Mr. Darcy to repeat those opinions, but Eli
zabeth was sufficiently acquainted with Lady Catherine's character to imagine th
em. Her own in- stinct was to laugh away any insult from such an outrageous so
urce, but she wisely observed that Mr. Darcy regarded it as no laughing matter
. Indeed, his indignation on Elizabeth's behalf was such that he resolved to sev
er all connection with Rosings. Elizabeth hoped this breach might one day be repaired, but she had an aunt and u
ncle of her own whose misgivings she meant to conquer first. While keeping close
watch over his sister prevented Mr. Darcy from calling frequently, he did write
regularly, and Elizabeth treasured each four-syl- lable word with which her int
ended expressed his devotion. For every letter she wrote him in return, Elizabet
h penned a shorter note to her Aunt Gardiner, extolling the virtues of her betro
thed and expressing her fondest wish of inviting them to Pemberley for Christmas
, if only Mr. Darcy might have the opportunity to reestablish himself in her unc
le's esteem. Mrs. Gardiner happily surrendered to her niece's persistent hinting, particula
rly the great temptation of tour- ing Pemberley's park in a lovely little phaeto
n with ponies. Within a matter of weeks, Elizabeth found herself invited for an indefinite stay
in Gracechurch Street. Elizabeth was uncertain what sort of reception she would find when she first cal
led on Miss Darcy in town. She was glad to discover that the resiliency of youth
and passage of time appeared to have worked their charms on the young lady's di
sposition. Georgiana greeted her future sister with a warm embrace, and the two
ladies quickly devised plans for pleasant mornings spent practicing duets at the
pianoforte or driving round the park. The idea of shopping, however, was curiou
sly never entertained. Elizabeth did not want for shopping companions, for her mother soon arrived in t
own as a guest of the Bingleys. Mrs. Bennet was beside herself with glee at the
prospect of having not only more time to plan this wedding, but access to the
infinite selection of wares afforded by London shops. So pleased was Mr. Bennet
at his wife's removal to town, he magnanimously increased her allotted funds as
well. Little could either of her parents have supposed that Elizabeth would not be the
ir next daughter married. Mr. Bennet arrived unexpectedly in Gracechurch Street
one afternoon bearing a letter from Colonel Forster. It seemed that Lydia had
become betrothed to Lieutenant Denny, and from the Colonel's insinuations, a bri
ef engagement would be most advisable. On discussing this development with her own betrothed, Elizabeth was gratified t
o learn that he shared her sense of responsibility in the matter-not for Lydia's imprudent behavior, certainly, bu
t at least for the circumstances which led to her installment in Brighton. They
agreed that Elizabeth's dowry of one thousand pounds, the impact of which would
scarcely be felt on Mr. Darcy's own accounts, should be added to Lydia's thousan
d. Furthermore, Mr. Darcy would consult with Colonel Fitzwilliam about purchasin
g a more profitable commission for Denny as a wedding gift. These arrangements w
ere settled quietly among Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet, and Mr. Gardiner, with the resu
lt of elevating the first gentleman greatly in the eyes of the other two. They r
easoned that Mr. Denny's improved pay, when combined with Lydia's dowry and the
one hundred pounds per annum Mr. Bennet proposed to settle on her, ought to pr
ovide the couple with a sufficiently comfortable income. This line of reasoning
assumed, of course, that Lydia could be recon- ciled to living within their mode
st means. Come Michaelmas, the newly-wed Mr. and Mrs. Denny had departed to join his new r
egiment in the North, and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had repaired to Hertfordshire, lea
v- ing the Bingleys, Gardiners, Elizabeth, and Mr. Darcy to form a very agreeabl
e society of six. The group spent many a delightful evening dining at the Bingle
y residence or attending the theater as guests of Mr. Darcy. Before the excitement of Lydia's brief engagement, Mr. Gardiner took to his role
as Elizabeth's chaperone with stern vigilance, but his severity gradually softe
ned as his opinion of Mr. Darcy improved. The couple found increasing opportun
ities for private conversation in a corner of the drawing room, leisurely drives
about town in his carriage, or pleasant walks in the park. It was during one su
ch afternoon stroll in the early days of autumn that Elizabeth's spirits rose
to playfulness, and she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for having ever fallen in lo
ve with her. "How did you begin?" she asked. "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, once
you had made a beginning; but what could have set you off in the first place?" "An excellent question," he replied. There were some ben- efits to an extended c
ourtship, Elizabeth was forced to con- cede, the greatest of these being the per
fect and effortless amiability with which they now conversed. She, of course, pe
rsisted in her habit of teasing at every opportunity, and Mr. Darcy had not only
mastered the ability to be laughed at with good grace but was developing a cons
iderable talent for parrying her wit with his own. "To be sure," he continued, "your impertinence at Rosings I found most enchantin
g, and before that I admired your kind attention to your sister at Netherfield-b
ut I must admit to being utterly bewitched by your beauty from the moment of our
introduction at Meryton." Glancing about to ensure they were not observed, Elizabeth repaid this pretty sp
eech with a quick kiss on the cheek. Having received his reward, Mr. Darcy conti
nued slyly, "Of course, I knew no actual good of you then, but what man thinks o
f that when he falls in love?" 63 Elizabeth gasped in surprise and threw him a look of mock reproach. She would ha
ve withdrawn her arm from his to punish him, had his grip not tightened in antic
ipa- tion of just such a retreat. He covered her hand with his own and began to
stroke her wrist, exploring the slim band of exposed skin between the edge of he
r spencer sleeve and the top of her glove. "To be truthful, Elizabeth, I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words,
which laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.
Could you tell me how long you have loved me?" Elizabeth considered the matter as she reveled in the profound sensations inci
ted by his caress. Their conversation may have become comfortable; their habits,
familiar-but as flint may spark a thousand fires and each blaze brightly as the
last, the slightest brush of his skin on hers never failed to rekindle all the
burning intensity of their first touch. With such a pleasant distraction consuming her notice, it seemed no more possibl
e to recall the beginning of her love than to imagine a time before fire. Certai
nly, she had not always loved him so well as she did now, and indeed her love co
ntinued to deepen and grow with each passing day. But if she must attempt, as he
said, to fix on the hour, or the look, or the words which laid the foundations
of her affection, she must choose that moment more than a year past when she sto
od before his handsome portrait, listened to the unstinting praise of his housek
eeper, and first learned all that was true and essential to his character. "Perhaps I should be coy like you, Fitzwilliam, and tell you it came on so gradu
ally I hardly know when it began," she teased. "But if I am perfectly honest, I
must date it from my first seeing your beautiful grounds at Pemberley." THE END 64

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In Essentials (Much As It Ever Was) by Vangie Chapter 1 THE MERYTON ASSEMBLY There was but one topic of conversation

in the Meryton assembly hall, and it was

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