Beginning, Section V
Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Posted on August 4, 2008
"It's lovely to hear your voice too, uncle," Lizzy said fondly to her Uncle Bennet over the phone, when she had stolen a moment to be alone that evening. "And yes, I did enjoy having lunch with the girls today. Lydia certainly seems as much herself as ever."
"I'm afraid I've been a poor parent to her," her uncle mused sadly. "I should have kept a tighter rein on her... somehow the other girls turned out all right without me needing to interfere much, and I suppose I was just hoping that the others would rub off on Lydia. But that isn't why you called, you said that you had something in particular to ask me. Well, what is it my dear? I can get you an excellent deal on Gaelic phrase-books and instruction CDs, you know."
"No, I don't need anything like that," Lizzy said, a smile in her voice carrying over the line. "It's information."
"Well, you are the academic of the family, so I should have guessed. Yes, what is it?"
"Will you promise to tell me the truth?" Lizzy asked, anxious that her uncle might have stronger scruples about any request for secrecy that Darcy might have made upon him.
"I hope I can always tell you the truth, dear. Yes, all right, I promise."
"What exactly did Fitzwilliam Darcy have to do with Lydia's return home?" With the question asked frankly like that, Lizzy hoped that she could get a frank answer in return.
"How on earth do you know anything about that?" Mr Bennet asked, surprised.
"A little bird told me."
"Lydia, of course. Mr Darcy should have known that the girl can't keep a secret for anything."
"So, you see, I already know about it," she said. "And you need to tell me what you know, or else I'll get desperate and find other ways to get this information off of you."
There was a pause. "Well, seeing as you know that he was involved, more information can only be better in helping you understand exactly what his role in the affair was. If he can't keep the whole thing a secret, then he might at least have the proper story told. I suppose Lydia's version was peppered with insults?"
"Partially," Lizzy said, with one of her first real smiles in days. "Though she also found him attractive."
"As, I understand, you do," Mr Bennet said bluntly. Lizzy blushed and was confused until her uncle clarified himself. "I'm now a nosier man. I went through Kitty's browser history the other day, and found the most interesting article. It certainly shed some light on what a man like Darcy was doing helping little old me."
"What did he do?" Lizzy asked urgently, curling up on the small loveseat in her room. And her uncle told the story.
He'd been in Glasgow less than a day when he'd first been approached by Darcy, waiting on the street outside of the police station."Mr Bennet?" Darcy had asked, apparently recognizing Lydia's father from a picture he'd dug up on the Highland Hammie website. Mr Bennet had owned to his name and then listened with curiosity as an impassioned Darcy had reeled off his history with Wickham and his friendly interest (as he had called it at the time) in the welfare of Bennet family. Mr Bennet had then shuffled Darcy off to a pub, where more particulars of the situation had been discussed between the two men, so that they could each have a greater understanding of where George Wickham and Lydia Bennet might be.
When the case finally became official with Lydia's prolonged absence, Darcy had finally been allowed to make a contribution to the police. Mr Bennet had been told that Darcy had identified a motive for Wickham to kidnap Lydia -- though he had not been told of it in particular until the ransom note had appeared some days later -- and had turned the search from the less fashionable ends of Glasgow towards the countryside.
And Darcy's help hadn't stopped there. The search had largely been fruitless --especially given the rather larger search area, and Mr Bennet had been reduced to sitting in a corner of the police station, more in the way than any use to his missing youngest daughter. And then, one day, there had been a phone call to the detective on the case, and a great flurry of activity had erupted in the room. Mr Bennet had been largely forgotten on his bench until a young constable arrived to brief him of the update.
"Your daughter has been seen," the constable said, leaning down to touch Mr Bennet's shoulder in excitement. "Days ago, but the trail looks pretty warm in the direction of Ayrshire... we have an address that seems pretty likely, and your Mr Darcy is offering to take you along in his helicopter along with me and Inspector Mackie, if you're interested. We'll meet the locals there -- you'll have to stay away from the cottage but at least it's something constructive you can do, coming along with us."
"Of course!" Mr Bennet had cried, jumping up. "Finally, finally, something I can do!" He'd been overjoyed, even though there was no guarantee that Lydia would still be at this cottage in Ayrshire, even should she have been there earlier. He followed the constable and soon found himself at the airfield, being bundled into a sleek blue helicopter, with the fascinating Mr Darcy at the controls.
They'd landed some distance away from the cottage, and he had been forced to stay put as the police convened and set off towards an innocuous and peaceful-looking cottage. Darcy had gone along with them, too forceful and impassioned to be argued against.
It was nearly half an hour before anyone returned to the helicopter. Mr Bennet had been anxiously scuffing the ground outside the vehicle with his foot, but looked up eagerly as three figures approached him. The smallest was that of his youngest daughter, whom -- with both sulking and guilty expressions on her face -- he rushed to embrace before entering into a flurried set of scoldings.
Darcy had appeared some short time later, messed a little as if he had been in a fight, though looking a bit pleased with himself. The constable had told Mr Bennet that Darcy had been the one to tackle the fleeing Wickham, and that now the kidnapper was safely stowed in a squad car. Darcy hadn't said a word on the whole trip back, despite all of Lydia's irate comments. He had set down at the airfield by Glasgow again, where they were met by Glasgow police cars, which took the lot of them back to the station for statements. While Lydia was being looked over by a medical officer, Darcy had come over to Mr Bennet.
"I'm glad she's safe," he had said, before brooding a moment. Mr Bennet cut in, saying,
"Yes. As am I, as am I. I don't know how to thank you."
"You shouldn't. It was my responsibility to help. I allowed Wickham to go free and I did little to warn others about him. And it was because of me that Wickham went after your daughter. Do not thank me. But if you do want to do anything for me, don't tell your family, anyone, about my involvement in this. I've done my piece but I don't want the praise for it. It had to be done. Let the police take the credit, and please keep me out of this. I don't want any gratitude. I only wanted atonement."
Mr Bennet had been astonished, but had nodded and agreed to keep Darcy's name out of the story of Lydia's recovery. Darcy had then apparently said the same thing to Lydia, and to the police, and had left immediately for London, or so Mr Bennet thought from a phone conversation to a travel agent Mr Bennet had overheard.
And that was all Mr Bennet knew.
"Thank you," Lizzy had said earnestly to her uncle. She was still confused, but she was glad to have heard her uncle's story. Her heart leapt for a moment with the thought that Darcy had gone to Glasgow and had helped Lydia for her own sake... but she bit off the joyous thought, lest it not be the truth. Certainly he must have enjoyed tackling Wickham and bringing him to justice, and certainly he might have felt some responsibility, these were valid reasons for his actions... but -- It was all too much, she didn't know what to think: if he had done this to please Lizzy, why keep his actions a secret?
Despite Lizzy's desire to track down Darcy and to confront him about Lydia's return, she was kept busy from morning till evening the next day with her schoolwork. It wasn't until at least seven-thirty that she was finally able to sit down at the table in the common room of her flat with Jane, who had come over for a quiet meal after her own busy day of interviews and research for her article.
They were half-way through a simple meal of pasta when there was a firm knock on the outer door of the flat. Lizzy and Jane started, having been deep in conversation about the university. They watched as Katya flitted towards the door and peeped through the peep-hole. Charlotte, who had been washing up dishes in the sink, came over and joined Katya at the door.
"Well?" she asked, "Who is it?"
"It's that Darcy!" Katya exclaimed, surprised, as the fumbled with the lock. "And he's got a friend with him. That blond, cheery English fellow, what's his name?"
"Charles Bingley," said Charlotte in some wonder, knowing well the history of Jane's aborted relationship. "Hurry up!" She flung back the bolt and pulled the door open wide to reveal, as predicted by Katya, Darcy and Bingley standing there nervously.
"Well, this is a surprise," Charlotte said, sweeping around the door and welcoming the young men in. "I assume you're here to see Bennets?"
"Bennets?" asked Darcy. He was certainly here to see one Bennet, but he hadn't expected that there would be another present. One of the cousins? Or was it Jane, up for her article?
Lizzy and Jane looked just as surprised to see Darcy and Bingley as the men looked to see Jane present alongside Lizzy. The Bennets rose quickly, wiping away tomato sauce from their lips with napkins and smoothing their hair as they came away from the table. Jane in particular looked shocked at the sight of Charles, and took comfort in the banal actions of self-presentation.
"Lizzy!" Jane whispered to her sister in a panic, coming up behind Lizzy, who was striding anxiously towards the door, finally seeing Darcy after all this time for the first time since she'd run from his house. "Lizzy! What is he doing here?"
"I think he's come to give you an explanation, if you'll hear him out," Lizzy said quietly, pushing her sister before her. Charles's face lit up, beholding Jane's quiet beauty after so many months apart, and ran to immediately. Darcy glanced back up at Lizzy with eyes full of unreadable messages, but followed his friend, standing discreetly a few paces away, waiting for his own chance to speak to Jane and to apologize. Lizzy stood staring, and Charlotte came over, and rested her chin on Lizzy's shoulder.
"In times past, Darcy came to see you," she said. "What's going on?"
The conversation on the other side of the room was quiet but passionate. The flatmates watched as Charles clearly was explaining something to Jane, gesturing about madly as he talked. Jane listened, questioned, and listened again. Eventually she smiled at Charles and took her hand briefly before turning to Darcy, who spoke quietly to her. Charles beamed and came over to Lizzy.
"She's agreed to come to lunch with me tomorrow," he said happily. "She doesn't hate me!"
"I didn't think that she would," Lizzy said quietly. Jane was too good to hold a grudge, especially when the slight against her had been largely unintended -- and furthermore Jane had loved Charles... while upset at him for disappearing, she hadn't changed her heart on account of his absence. "Just treat her well," Lizzy commanded gently. "Don't break her heart again."
"I can assure you that I have no intention of ever hurting her again," Charles swore, taking up Lizzy's hands in his. "And I can't thank you enough for helping this reconciliation to come about. I've been miserable for months, and you've brought the sunshine back. Thank you, Lizzy Bennet." He dropped a friendly kiss on her cheek and turned back towards Jane, who had evidently finished her tête-a-tête with Darcy. Darcy came over awkwardly and smiled at Lizzy.
"You were right. Your sister is a much better woman than I ever gave her credit for. Not only has she listened to an insane story with a great deal of patience, but I think that she really is well on her way towards forgiving my friend -- and myself -- for the pain we've caused her." He reached for Lizzy's hand and she gave it to him willingly. He gazed at her a moment, and then started as he realized that Charlotte and Katya were watching the whole spectacle with considerable interest. He also caught sight of the dinner table.
"We've interrupted your meal."
"It's nothing."
"Can we get you anything?" Charlotte asked Darcy, seeing him preparing to turn and collect his friend to leave so as to be out of the Bennets' way.
"No, thank you," Darcy said, staying himself.
"Then at least please take a seat," Katya offered, gesturing towards the sofa to one side of the room. Darcy went and say, awkwardly, Lizzy and the others following. Charlotte maneuvered Lizzy into the seat beside Darcy and carefully turned to Katya, determined to leave the two to talk out whatever it was they needed to.
"I had an e-mail from your sister," Lizzy began, not entirely sure how to talk to Darcy amongst all of these people. He seemed friendly but there was little sign of his former very particular attentions towards her. Did they still have an understanding? Were they a couple? Or not? Lizzy was clueless and watched Darcy's face to glean some hint of the situation.
"Yes, I know. Georgie berated me for not coming to see you earlier. I had business to take care of."
"Oh, of course." He made no mention of London, of Glasgow, of Edinburgh, or any of the places that Lizzy knew that he had been.
"I'm sorry that I never had the chance to say goodbye to your aunt and uncle," Darcy said after a moment, eyeing Charlotte and Katya. There was much he wanted to say to Lizzy, but he didn't think that he could say it all in public. And he didn't want to steal Lizzy away from her meal too long, whatever her protests that it was no bother at all. He was now in St Andrews for all of the foreseeable future, and there would be ample time to give Lizzy the wooing she deserved -- and she deserved a wooing so that she could see just how much Darcy's intentions were serious, just how much he intended to wipe any and all memories of George Wickham from their minds. "They must be back in the States by now?"
"Yes. They left three days ago. They called when they arrived back in Massachusetts, and asked me to send their regards whenever I should see you again."
"I liked them," Darcy said frankly, accepting the regards. "I liked them very much."
There was a buzzing sound, and Darcy immediately excused himself to answer his mobile. He spoke softly for a moment and then back over to Lizzy, where he took up her hand again.
"I'm so sorry, but I've got to take care of something," he said briefly. "But we will meet again, and soon." He squeezed the hand and smiled tentatively at her before turning back to Charles.
"Charles," he said and Charles looked over towards his friend with a knowing nod. Charles excused himself from Jane with a chaste kiss on her forehead and smiled back at her as he walked out of the flat. "Tomorrow, twelve-thirty. I'll come and find you after your interviews." Jane smiled and nodded and calmly waved Charles out of her sight.
"Lizzy?" asked Charlotte, coming over to her friend. "What on earth was that all about?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Lizzy said frankly. Yes, she knew partially why Darcy had come, but the whole of his intentions were definitely still foggy. "But Jane has a lunch date, and that's something we can all be glad about."
Jane, blushing and nodding happily, came back over and wrapped her arms about her sister. "I know that I said I had this dream that Charles would knock on the door, give me some story, and tell me that he still cared for me -- but I never quite believed it!"
"If anyone deserves a fairy tale ending," Lizzy said to her sister, "it is you." It made her a little wistful, seeing Jane so happy, but she knew that what she had just said was true: Jane utterly and completely deserved this happiness... and Lizzy deserved uncertainty after the tangled webs she'd helped construct between herself and Darcy.
When Lizzy returned to her flat the next afternoon after a class she was surprised to see Jane lingering outside by the door, a glowing expression on her face.
"What, is everyone out?" Lizzy asked as she unlocked the door. "I didn't know you were stopping by, but it is a very welcome surprise. How was lunch?"
"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed as they passed into the flat, "Charles asked me to marry him!"
"And you said yes?"
"And I said yes! He loves me Lizzy, he always loved me. He said that he couldn't bear to have me out of his life again, and asked me to marry him if I didn't think it too presumptuous after all we'd been through. And I knew that I did want to marry him... so I said yes!" She flashed a ring at Lizzy, who admired it, awestruck.
"I am so excited for you, so happy for you, Jane," Lizzy cried, hugging her sister fiercely. "I saw you pining all those months, so this is just wonderful -- I knew that he loved you!"
"You knew?" Jane asked. "Really?"
"Oh, Jane, I have to admit something to you. I saw Charles just a few weeks ago, when I was up at Glen Leigheas. I knew that he still cared for you, that it wasn't really his fault that he broke everything off with you so suddenly. I knew that you loved him, so I wanted you to have another chance... and now you have it, and I am so pleased for you. I've never seen you happier before, ever."
"You could have told me," Jane reprimanded her sister gently. "I assume that you were trying to protect me, but you could have told me that Charles was there. I should have liked to have heard of him. ... But it doesn't matter now. What matters now is that I'm going to marry Charles!"
Lizzy hugged her sister again, and then stood back a moment. "So will you live here -- in Edinburgh?" she asked suddenly. She'd never considered that Jane might be living in a different country when she herself went back to the States either for her doctorate or to teach afterwards. "What does Dad say?"
"He was surprised, to say the least," Jane said, sitting down on the sofa and facing Lizzy, a giant smile plastered on her glowing face. "Charles made me call Dad to tell him and to ask his permission, since Charles was too frightened of being told to get lost after the way he walked out of my life. Daddy knows how hurt I was, so it took a little convincing to get him to believe that Charles really does love me, and that I really love him and forgive him -- and want to marry him. But he gave his blessing in the end, and is going to come out here in May to meet Charles. We're thinking of an August wedding, so you wouldn't be in classes. You will be my maid of honor, won't you?"
"Oh, Jane!" Lizzy said immediately, "Of course I will!"
"And Charles does want to live in Edinburgh, although he was very sweet and offered to move to the States if I wanted it. But I'm happy enough to stay here. I like Edinburgh, and it's near to you, especially if you stay on to do your doctorate here. ... So far I've only managed to tell you and Daddy and the Bennets and Aunt and Uncle Gardiner about the good news, but there's going to be a little party this evening to celebrate. Darcy's standing us all champagne at his flat, as Charles is staying there just now. If you have any desperate work to do this evening, please say you'll get it out of the way now so that you can be there for me this evening?"
"Of course," Lizzy said, simultaneously mentally reviewing her homework load and also wondering what it would be like to see Darcy's St Andrews flat and to perhaps have a private moment to hash out all of their personal dilemmas. "Absolutely." Then, focusing on the homework once more, she said, "I'd better get working... do you mind if I go closet myself away with a giant pile of readings?"
"Not at all," Jane said with her best bridal smile. "I'll just let myself out and go see my fiancé. ... Oh, Lizzy, I am so happy! Why can't everyone in the world be as happy as me?" Lizzy laughed and hugged her sister one more time, and then delved into the pile of work that awaited her if she wanted the whole evening free that night.
When Lizzy entered Darcy's St Andrews flat that evening, she was not sure which emotion had greatest control of her: surprise, fascination, joy or fear. Surprise in seeing that Darcy had apparently invited not only their cousin Mary to the party, but also Aunt and Uncle Bennet, Lizzy's flatmates Charlotte, Katya and Ellen, and the woman whom Lizzy vaguely recognized as being the Edinburgh officer of the Atlantic Pulse. It was true that Jane did not have many friends in Scotland, but it was kind of Darcy (likely with the aid of Charles) to round up those she did have and invite them to be there with her on this very special night. The party was, in fact, rather well-populated, even for Darcy's spacious rooms, and Lizzy supposed that the bulk of the guests were Charles's friends.
Fascination simultaneously gripped Lizzy as she was handed a flute of champagne by her jubilant brother-in-law-to-be and began to look around at Darcy's rooms. Just as she had been intrigued by the way that Glen Leigheas reflected Darcy's character, she was enthralled by his rooms in St Andrews -- which had easily as many books in them as his office in Glen Leigheas and were furnished spartanly but comfortably with apparent good taste.
Joy and fear -- for she was in love -- then both gripped Lizzy at once as her host came up behind her, holding two champagne flutes in his hands. He smiled and shrugged as he saw that she was already well-served.
"I see I am too late; you've already been given a flute. May I trust that it wasn't some admirer of yours, seeking to steal you away from your life in the academic cloisters?"
"It was Charles, which -- if he does seek to steal me away from a life in academic cloisters -- could be a bit of a problem, given that he's engaged to my sister." Lizzy laughed, and took a sip of the champagne, coughing ever-so-slightly as the bubbles hit the back of her throat.
"I'm glad to hear it," Darcy said. "As I was glad to hear the news this afternoon. I think that your sister and my friend will be very happy together."
"I think so too --" Lizzy began, before Darcy touched her forearm lightly and broke in with a "wait just here." Darcy had caught sight of Charles gesturing madly on the other end of the room.
"I'm sorry, Charles is going to give the official announcement and I'm supposed to give a toast. Please don't get lost in the crowd, I haven't really had a chance to talk to you yet." His imploring look made Lizzy both laugh and swoon (ever so slightly) and she nodded.
As soon as Darcy made his way towards the clear corner of the room where Charles and Jane had gone Lizzy's aunt and uncle came running over to her.
"I am so happy for Jane!" Frances Bennet cried, utterly overjoyed and halfway through what was obviously one of more than a few refills of her flute. "Just think, Jane married to that handsome, handsome man! And living in the New Town, in one of those gorgeous, gorgeous Georgian houses! It's simply too marvelous! And what a pleasure having her living so near!"
"I think, my dear," Mr Bennet said kindly to his wife, with a twinkle in his eye, "that Jane is marrying the man for love, rather than for his house, but I will say that this is very welcome news, both for my dear niece's sake and for my own -- it would have been so sad to lose both you girls after we've enjoyed seeing you so often this year."
Lizzy laughed, touched at knowing that her aunt and uncle really did enjoy having their nieces living nearby and smiled at their joy for Jane's happiness. Her attention was wrested away, however, by Darcy ringing his glass and allowing Charles to make his announcement to the assembled guests. There was great cheering and applause when he was done, and Darcy was forced to ring his glass once more to arrest the attention of the whole room again.
"Friends," Darcy said, finally, in his joy, able to demonstrate some of his eloquence while Lizzy was in the same room. "I know that you're all excited and anxious to congratulate Jane and Charles but I'd like you to all give them a brief toast for their future happiness together:
"I have known Charles most of my life: many of you know that we were at school together, and stayed close throughout our university years and beyond -- though arguably I am still in my university years for a little time yet..." (laugh) "If you know Charles, you know that he is amiable, kind, good-natured, a very decent sport, and an excellent fellow. I am honored to call him my friend, and hope to be able to claim that honor for years to come.
"I have only known Jane for a matter of months now, but I am likewise honored to be able to call her a friend. She is one of the best of women, kind, patient, loving, strong and sincere. ... No one can doubt that these two each deserve one another, and that, should any of you visit them in their married life, they will smother you with kindness and attention. -- So, to Jane and Charles, may they always have each other, never suffer disappointment, and receive in return a hundredfold the fruits of their own generosity!"
The crowd all raised their flutes and drank to Jane and Charles, who looked utterly delighted with the whole proceedings and were quick to embrace Darcy as he moved to head back into the crowd. Lizzy smiled at the picture, but smiled further when the object of her attentions finally made his way through an appreciative crowd of friends.
"This is all your doing," Lizzy said, gesturing about the room and smiling up at Darcy. "And I don't just mean the party, though I did want to thank you for doing this for them. We wouldn't all be standing here if you hadn't helped push Charles back towards Jane."
"I would never have known that it would be the right thing to do without you," Darcy said softly, daring finally to raise two fingers so as to trace Lizzy's jawline gently. "I was an ignorant boor to not see Jane's feelings for what they were, I was too jaded by my own bitter experiences, and not prepared to recognize love when I saw it. I've learned my lesson, though, and I hope I've repaired my mistakes."
"You have," Lizzy said softly, raising a hand to cup his shoulder lightly. She could feel his warmth through his handsome sweater and it was electrifying after her long separation from him. -- Maybe, just maybe everything would come right for her, as it had come right for Jane? He was still too clever, too handsome, too good for her to deserve him, but maybe he could overlook her history and her inadequacies? At least, the way he was smiling at her made her think that this was very, very possible.
"Where is my nephew?" boomed a commanding voice suddenly from the doorway of the flat. Lizzy and Darcy sprang apart, recognizing the voice, and stared as Lady Catherine de Bourgh strode into the room, parting the guests before her like Moses with the Red Sea.
"Aunt Catherine?" Darcy asked, shocked and surprise by the throughly unexpected apparition. He stepped forward a little. "To what do we owe the honor?"
"As if you didn't know! I couldn't read such appalling lies without coming here to make sure that you would do your duty and refute them!"
"What appalling lies?" asked Darcy, genuinely confused.
"The ones about... there she is!" Lady Catherine suddenly broke off and directed her furious energy towards Lizzy, who was now standing a few paces behind Darcy. "I need to have a word with you, Miss Bennet," she said firmly. "I believe there is a prettyish sort of courtyard downstairs."
"... Of course," Lizzy said, thoroughly confused. The only explanation for this odd request that she could imagine was that Lady Catherine had seen the story about her visit to Glen Leigheas, but it seemed far-fetched that the Cambridge scholar would come all the way to Scotland to ask about the truth behind an anonymous gossip-rag piece. Lizzy gave a questioning glance back at Darcy as she was herded out of the room, but soon was outside, far from the now-twittering and gossiping guests.
"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to why I am here," Lady Catherine said, gesturing for Lizzy to sit on the rim of an empty fountain set into one of the walls of the courtyard. Lizzy imagined that the place was quite attractive in the warmer months, but in February, without a coat, Lizzy was inclined to want to return inside. "Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I have come."
"You are mistaken, Lady Catherine -- Dr. de Bourgh. I really have no idea why you've come all this way -- so unexpectedly, I gather -- just to talk with me outside in a very cold courtyard."
Lady Catherine sniffed and drew her own coat more firmly about her. "You ought to know that you really shouldn't trifle with me. The last student who trifled with me was plowed and sent down two weeks later -- a judgement from God, I call it. You are in no position to insult senior scholars by feigning ignorance. I have been known for my sincerity and frankness, and so I will be sincere and frank with you: an alarming report has reached my eyes -- via our own Wilfred Collins, no less -- that links your name, your name! with that of my nephew Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam Darcy, that is, not Richard or Hugh. Though I knew that this must be a scandalous falsehood, I instantly came here to make sure that there was no truth in it."
"If you thought it untrue, I wonder that you travelled so far to check for the veracity," Lizzy commented, annoyed. "And why are you so anxious that there be no truth in it?" she asked, her frustration with the situation growing -- who was Lady Catherine to care whether her nephew dated Lizzy or not? And why was she so rude as to make such a scene, and then keep Lizzy outside without a jacket?
"I came to make sure that anything that might feed such false rumors might be thoroughly stamped out," Lady Catherine said, looking at Lizzy as though she was an idiot. "And I am anxious that there be no truth in it because this is a very important time for my nephew! He cannot be distracted by passing Americans, no matter what their scholastic pretensions! Will you answer me frankly whether there is any truth whatsoever in this rumor, or, if not, why it has been allowed to arise?"
"If you will allow me equal frankness, there are some questions that I refuse to answer."
"This is not to be borne! Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied! Are you, or are you not romantically involved with my favorite nephew?"
"Your ladyship has said that this would be impossible."
"It ought to be so, when he needs to be getting his dissertation passed with the highest distinctions -- and in such a form so as to win the highest prizes from the European Association of Medieval and Renaissance Scholars! But your arts and allurements may have distracted him from his set purpose, may have made him forget what he owes to his family, to his advisors, to me! You may have drawn him in!"
"If I had, I should be the last person to admit it."
"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I am not accustomed to such shabby treatment as this!" Lizzy raised an eyebrow -- who was treating whom shabbily, with Lizzy shivering in her light sweater. "I am one of Darcy's closest relations and am certainly the person who is most looking out for his academic career! I am entitled to know his closest concerns."
"But you are not entitled to know mine," Lizzy said, with a flash belligerent temper. "Nor with behavior such as this are you exactly encouraging me to share."
"Let me be rightly understood: this relationship to which you have the presumption to aspire can never take place. Darcy's duty is to his dissertation and his academic career -- not to any mere woman! If he ever marries it will be to a quiet, competent woman who can look after his papers and support his career. You are too young, too unpolished, and too distracting. You want a career of your own, how could you help Darcy with his own? Now what have you to say?"
"Only this: if Darcy thinks that I have no place in his life, then he would clearly not seek a relationship with me."
There was silence for a moment. Then Lady Catherine collected herself and began again, this time in a more wheedling tone.
"You don't understand the pressures that Darcy is under. He has that estate and that whisky business to take care of in addition to his studies. Even should he get managers for each of those, he will find it difficult to achieve the brilliant career we all expect from him. There will be no time for him to dilly dally with romance -- he will have to publish a brilliant thesis and undertake aggressive post-doctoral studies if he wishes to find a place at one of the best universities. I expect nothing less than Oxbridge from him, given his family's history! And I will not have you either distracting him or using him for his connections!"
"He will publish a brilliant thesis, whether I am in his life or not! It's extraordinary -- I've read pieces of it! And why shouldn't I have a close friendship with your nephew? He has sought my company, and it has been to both of our benefit! He is a medieval Scottish historian, I am a medieval Scottish historian! He and I are both highly regarded by Dr Alban, who is one of the current giants in this field, and he and I have both been the recipients of academic prizes and honors! I scarcely think that I would be a discredit to him -- and I certainly don't want any help from anyone who doesn't believe in the quality of my own work!"
"I am not used to being yelled at like this," Lady Catherine said with a sniff. "And I am not in the habit of brooking disappointment."
"That will make your ladyship's situation at present more pitiable, but it will have no effect on me."
"Hear me out, obstinate girl! I am not used to being yelled at like this, and I am not in the habit of brooking disappointment about my nephew's career. You must know that the Fitzwilliam family from which he and I are both descended is an old and a noble one, especially in academic circles. You have heard of Fitzwilliam College at my own institution of Cambridge? The Fitzwilliam Museum? With such a history, the family has need of bright new stars to keep the name glorified in academic circles -- and Fitzwilliam is the brightest light among all of the younger generation. He must have a brilliant career for the sake of us all."
"I see no reason why he should not have a brilliant career if I am in his life or not."
"Tell me, once and for all, are you in a relationship with my nephew? Does he host delusions of marrying you?"
"I'm certainly not qualified to answer the latter part of your question and... no. We are not in a relationship." It was true, as Lizzy saw it... they'd had a blissful day in Glen Leigheas and a few sweet moments afterwards, but never had they qualified such encounters into a Relationship in the sense that Lady Catherine meant. People in relationships had each others' mobile numbers.
Lady Catherine seemed pleased. "And will you promise never to enter into one?"
"No," Lizzy said flatly. If there was a chance that Darcy wanted her in his life, hoped that she would be able to take it.
"I am shocked and astonished. I had thought that you were a reasonable woman, if a very young one and naïve one. I will keep you here until you give me your word to keep my nephew's best interests in mind over your own."
"I do not see that the two have to be mutually exclusive," Lizzy said heatedly, her anger now keeping her warm, and turning to go, "and I will certainly never promise to not look out for my own interests."
"Wait!" Lady Catherine cried, and Lizzy turned back, arms crossed over her chest to show impatience. "Even if all you say is true -- even if you, as a relative amateur, could somehow be a boon to his work instead of a burden, there are other distractions related to you. I know about your young cousin, about her scandalous disappearance, and about your uncle's tawdry little souvenir shops. Do you really think that it would be in Darcy's best interests to be connected with them? You cannot pretend that you understand his class. As clever as you might be, surely you don't think that you and he live in the same worlds, even if your academic lives overlap a little?"
This stopped Lizzy in her tracks, speaking to the one point of great vulnerability she had despite her love for Darcy... maybe because of her love for Darcy. She didn't come from his world. Her relations were an embarrassment to him, despite his latest overtures towards them. Yes, these were things that could be overcome, but they could just as equally be exacerbated into real problems between the two of them. Lizzy then shook her head, determined to do away with Lady Catherine's accusations, and summoned to courage to refute this latest attack.
"He and I do live in the same academic world. And that is the world that matters most to us. If I should be in a close relationship with your nephew, it would be because he and I both judged it to be the best decision. You and your feelings would not come into it, just his and mine."
"And this is your final resolve? Well, I hope that you will be happy dragging him down with you, you certainly cannot expect any help from me with your career." And with that Lady Catherine stormed off towards the street, leaving Lizzy alone in the courtyard.
Lizzy's first instinct was to run back into the party, to throw her arms around Darcy and to find relief from his aunt's belligerent onslaught -- why couldn't the aristocratic Medici scholar believe in Lizzy as a an academic in her own right instead of as a dangerous leech? And why did she leave Lizzy feeling inadequate and foolish every time they met?
But it would be impossible to talk about the gist of Lady Catherine's accusations to Darcy. She wasn't ready to deal with that embarrassing and unfortunate article, and she certainly wasn't ready to own her own fears of inadequacy to Darcy when she had just laughed off most of his aunt's accusations to the same. She couldn't handle it if Darcy admitted that some of her fears were valid -- for she knew that they were, though she also knew that they were fears easily enough overcome -- she loved him too much.
And here lay the problem. She loved Darcy. This, as she had realized in Glen Leigheas, would be a relationship like no other she had had before. The prospect of losing him to some further misunderstanding haunted her and she knew that she needed composure before she faced him again. She needed a little time to think, to clear her mind, to figure out exactly what to say to Darcy to be sure that they had the best possible chance with one another, without any unexpected cousins or aunts or sisters getting in the way. She set out for the street herself, determined to take advantage of the empty flat.
"Have you seen Lizzy?" Darcy asked Jane for the seventieth time. She had now been gone for over half and hour and there was no sign of either Lizzy or his aunt. He was starting to be worried about whatever the encounter between the two strong-willed women might be like, and he wanted to make sure that Lizzy knew that he was on her side -- whatever it was about, though he strongly suspected that it had something to do with Caroline's article.
"No," Jane said quietly. "Do you want me to call her on her cell phone? She's probably somewhere in the crush."
"No, I'll look around a bit more," Darcy said. He moved off towards the large kitchen of his flat, searching through the faces of further guests to find the one face he was looking for. He chanced to look out the window as he wedged himself behind a friend of Charles's who was waving his arms about wildly to illustrate some point, and looked again. There was Lizzy, standing in the middle of the central courtyard without her coat, looking preoccupied. As he watched she then seem to come to a decision and strode out towards the gate that led to the street and disappeared.
He didn't know what had happened, but he respected Lizzy's decision to walk away from the party, as she had appeared rational rather than distressed. He'd find her the next day, and she now also knew where to find him.
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Chapter Twenty-Eight:
Posted on August 11, 2008
Lady Catherine was not a woman who could be gainsaid, not even at seven o'clock in the morning.
More was the pity, Darcy thought, as he tried to look as if he hadn't been up to all hours hosting and cleaning up after a party in his rooms and ushered his aunt into the now-tidied sitting room.
"I didn't know that you were coming up to Scotland, Aunt Catherine," he said in what he hoped was a pleasant voice. He was still a little groggy and also firmly confused about his aunt's mysterious appearance the night before and her subsequent private conversation with Lizzy.
"I had to get my facts straight," his aunt said grimly, sitting herself down in a chair and facing her nephew. "I saw a rather alarming article, and had to come see what truth there was in it."
"I may know the article in question," Darcy hazarded, "but I certainly never supposed that you were a fan of the gossip rags."
"Wilfred showed it to me, knowing that I would need to respond to the allegations, rubbishy website or not. Did you sanction that article?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
"No," said Darcy flatly. "No, I did not. I had no notion of its existence at all until about two weeks ago, when I happened across it in the print-outs in a police dossier about George Wickham. Since then I have reprimanded the author and have sought to have her pay for her errors."
"So the story is false?" asked Lady Catherine, eyeing her nephew. She really had no notion of how true it might be -- on the one hand there were pictures with the article, but on the other hand Lizzy Bennet had denied being currently in a relationship with Darcy.
"To some degree, yes."
"To which degree?" Lady Catherine demanded.
"It was correct in suggesting that I am far more serious in my interest in Lizzy Bennet than that for any other woman I have ever met."
"Fitzwilliam, it's a ridiculous notion."
"I don't see love as ridiculous. And I love Lizzy Bennet and have reason to believe that she cares about me. On those grounds I am happier than I have been in years, and you should congratulate me on my good fortune in finding her."
"But she won't be good for you," Lady Catherine countered.
"What on earth do you mean? I just told you that she has been wonderful for me."
"I mean for you in your career as a scholar! Happiness and love are overrated. You need someone competent who can type up your notes for you -- you know that your mother gave up her own dream of becoming an Oxbridge fellow for love -- it was her new dream that you carry out that dream for her! A dream that I have been assisting you with for years now! And I will not have you going all moony and distracted at this crucial juncture, just as you are about to be awarded your doctorate!"
"I scarcely think that Lizzy is bad for my scholarship," Darcy said drily, "especially given the fact that she is a highly qualified scholar in her own right who is quite capable of reading my work and offering an informed judgement of it -- and she currently holds a fellowship far more prestigious than any I have ever held! Furthermore, you know full well that my mother always told me to marry for love -- I may not be ready to marry just yet, but I know that my mother would approve of Lizzy -- as she would approve of me taking a minor position at a Scottish university, so that I could be closer to my sister, my estate and my business. This Oxbridge dream has been yours I fear, Aunt, not mine."
Lady Catherine glowered at him, enraged at this attack on her heart's dearest wish.
"You're a fool, Fitzwilliam Darcy. A fool, just like your father. Don't you know what you owe to your family? Don't you care about the Fitzwilliam heritage? How can you think of allying yourself with a young girl like that... with neither a good family nor good manners? I know of her aunts, her uncles, her cousins! Can you really think that she belongs with someone like you? Can you really throw away centuries of proud academic lineage to spend your life rotting up on your estate as a countrified gentleman with a minor and provincial position?"
"I became a scholar because I loved my studies," Darcy said, his temper flaring. "Not because of the Fitzwilliam tradition. And while I revere the accomplishments of my maternal forebears, I am equally conscious of my responsibilities to my paternal ones -- and the people of Glen Leigheas need me more than Oxford or Cambridge do. I will find a way to combine each of my family traditions -- but in a way that suits me. Your dreams do not come into the picture, but rather my own. Your feelings about Lizzy also don't matter to me, but rather mine and hers..."
"You're just as obstinate as that Bennet girl," Lady Catherine spat at him, cutting into his angry rebuke. "That's exactly what she said. Maybe you deserve one another." The way Lady Catherine said this made it seem as if such a fate was a decidedly uncomplimentary one.
"What do you mean, 'that's exactly what she said'?"
"Well, of course I confronted her about the article too! I thought that she might have cooked it up in an effort to catch you -- little did I know that you were already so disgracefully gone! She had the impertinence to tell me that this was all none of my business and firmly refused to stay clear of you, even for your own best interests!"
"You spoke to her about this last night?"
"Of course I did. For someone I always thought was so intelligent, you really are showing alarming signs of stupidity all of a sudden -- I blame the girl."
"She refused to stay clear of me?"
"Even when I made it abundantly clear that I would offer her no help advancing in the academic world. She must be after your money, then, if she's not after your connections."
"Or maybe she cares for me," Darcy said, absurdly pleased that Lizzy should have given his aunt a firm ticking off -- for nothing else could have angered the woman half so much -- and fought back for the right to have a relationship with him.
"Possible, but unlikely," Lady Catherine said, tossing aside the notion that Darcy really had found the love of his life as if it was an entirely unsubstantiated hypothesis. "You are getting very old, you know."
"In which case I must need my sleep; seeing as nothing you say is going to dissuade me, I would advise you to leave. I will not be dissuaded from becoming the best Renaissance Scottish historian I can be, but I also will not permit you to set the course of my life for me. I am thirty-one years old, and I think that I can make my own decisions."
"That remains to be seen," said Lady Catherine darkly, getting up and making her way towards the door. "I am sure that you know that I am most seriously displeased."
"A fact which hurts you far more than it hurts me," said Darcy angrily, ushering his aunt out into the hallway. He had had quite enough of her comments, and now he was resolved more than ever to have that long-overdue talk with Lizzy.
Darcy had an equally long-overdue talk scheduled first, however, with his advisor, Dr Alban. He fully admitted to himself that he'd been more than a little distracted by Lizzy these last few weeks, and between his disappointment following her rejection, his elation following her arrival in Glen Leigheas, and his ceaseless work to set the world aright for her after her departure, he'd somehow managed to completely drop off the planet as far as his advisor was concerned. And his advisor was not altogether pleased, though he might have smiled at the reasons behind Darcy's truancy if only he had known. As it was, Darcy spent a good hour discussing the dispatch of his thesis to the board of reviewers, wondering secretly if perhaps Aunt Catherine had a point that Lizzy was distracting to his work -- or at least this dreadful uncertainty with her was.
He was lost in these thoughts when he finally left Dr Alban's office, and when he heard a voice calling out "slàn leat" from a nearby office and Lizzy's voice calling back, also in Gaelic, he thought that all the stress of the last few weeks must have finally turned his mind.
-- But it really was Lizzy, coming out of the office next door, dressed in a flattering plaid coat he'd never seen on her before. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him so he walked over to her.
"Te bhan, te bhuidhe bhan,"* he quoted as he approached, smiling lightly.
"Have some mercy on me," Lizzy said with a small laugh, gently allowing their eye contact to linger. "I've only just started my Gaelic lessons this last week!"
"It wasn't any great wisdom for the age -- though I suppose soon you won't need interfering doctoral students to translate your readings for you."
"You'll get your doctorate soon and then I'll be stuck with a dearth of obliging Gaelic-speakers," Lizzy pointed out. "At least, none like you. And your aunt told me back in January that I'd never get anywhere without all the languages I could muster."
"My aunt." He touched her cheek lightly and was on the verge of asking her about the encounter last night and revealing his own encounter with Lady Catherine from this morning to her when he heard someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned and saw Dr Alban standing there.
"Might I get to Dr Ross's office?" he asked good-naturedly, highly amused at the strange tête-a-tête he had observed between his two favorite advisees.
"Oh, yes, of course," Darcy said, a trifle embarrassed. They moved aside and Darcy asked Lizzy "Where are you headed?"
"Nowhere in particular, now," Lizzy admitted. "I'm done for the day, save for a pile of reading."
"Can I walk with you as you go nowhere in particular, then?" Darcy asked, fully intending to make full use of this chance meeting to show her that there was nothing left for her to worry about, that he had made the world ready for her to be happy in.
"If you like."
They walked side by side down the stairwell in St Katherine's lodge and out onto the street. They turned left, headed vaguely in the direction of West Sands and the golf course, no particular destination in mind. Lizzy's mind was full, however, she didn't know that she knew what she wanted to say to Darcy yet and was praying that when the time came that she would be able to to speak to him frankly about her own feelings, hopes and fears. She was still afraid of the giant commitment that a relationship with Darcy would be and concerned about their troubled history and his mysterious involvement in Lydia's case, though her fears about her own suitability for him had been largely chased away by reflection over the content of her argument with his aunt the night before.
"What was that you were saying earlier, in Gaelic?" Lizzy asked, after they had walked nearly to the Catholic church in silence.
"I called you a fair-haired girl," Darcy said with a smile. "It was the first thing that came to mind when I saw you coming out of Dr Ross's office, Gaelic on your lips and the lights haloing your hair. Did I ever tell you that I find beautiful young women speaking the ancient tongue of my motherland a decided turn-on?"
Lizzy blushed. "I can only say 'hello' and 'goodbye' and a handful of the more memorable nouns," she admitted, still slightly uncomfortable with his advances while so much terrain lay unexplored and unexplained between them. "I'm taking the course to read, not to speak, and we've only met once prior to today."
"My father made me go to a special tutor once a week," Darcy reminisced, seeing that Lizzy wanted to keep the conversation more general. "Since my mother was English I'm only a quarter Scottish in strict terms, but my father was determined that I make up in culture what I lacked in blood. I learned Gaelic and Scots, and how to dance all the country dances, and was set reading lists of Scottish literature and, later, all the reports about the formation of the devolved parliament. My father died before it first met, but he was so excited when the Act was passed..."
"I think that I would have liked to meet your father," Lizzy said softly. "He sounds as if he was a rare man. I'm sure he'd be proud of you, and everything you've done for the estate, and the business, and your sister." She paused a moment, figuring that this was her best shot for addressing Darcy about what he had done for her young relation.
"I can't go any longer without thanking you," Lizzy said, gazing at Darcy with hesitant eyes. "I know what you have done for my family, what you did to find Lydia. Ever since I found out, I have been anxious to let you know how grateful I am to you for that -- and also for helping Jane and Charles."
"I never wanted you to be anxious. I never wanted your gratitude. I fixed my mistakes, mistakes which you had pointed out to me, because it was the right thing to do but also to prevent you being hurt from any of my stupid, stupid past decisions. I don't need your gratitude -- if anything I need your forgiveness -- I only wanted to give you peace of mind and joy, and if you were able to have those as a result of my efforts then I am well repaid."
"Will you accept my gratitude for thinking of my peace of mind and joy, then?" Lizzy asked softly, raising her eyelashes so as to look at him more directly.
"I still do not think that you need offer it -- you owe me nothing -- but I will accept it."
They had reached the esplanade overlooking West Sands and the marine life center, and leaned together on the metal railing overlooking the silvery sheet of the February North Sea. Their silence was companionable but was also laced with something much deeper. His determination fed by it, Darcy took Lizzy's ungloved hand in his own and turned her face to face him.
"You are too generous to trifle with me. Have your feelings changed since we were in Glen Leigheas together? Mine have not. Despite all these trials and tribulations that have reared their ugly heads these last few weeks, I want nothing so much as to have you in my life, and I would do away with a hundred more minor catastrophes if it meant that you and I could be happy together. Tell me if you feel the same way."
Lizzy squeezed his hand warmly and then raised hers to touch his cashmere-wrapped neck. "I love you," she said frankly. "I love you, and I'm scared to death of it. I'm scared that I'm in over my head. I'm scared that there is some infinitesimally small chance that your aunt was right and that I might hold you back from great things. I'm scared because I keep on hurting you -- especially because whenever I hurt you, it hurts me a hundred times more to think of you being hurt --"
Her fears and qualifications and growing incoherency were momentarily put to rest as Darcy leaned forward and kissed her firmly.
"We'll deal with your reservations and fears together," he said when he finally released her. "But I want you to know that my aunt has a very narrow idea of greatness -- I will still pursue my scholarship, but I never wanted to go down to England, and you have had absolutely no effect whatsoever on that decision. And you could never hold me back, Lizzy. If anything, you have opened my eyes to the world and have given me so much more than you will ever know..."
"You can forgive me for my stupid misunderstandings? My idiotic past with Wickham? The foolishness of my family?"
"I already forgave you for those, back at Glen Leigheas. And I'm certainly in no position to talk about family members... my aunt appears to have subjected you to a very unpleasant interview last night."
"I don't think she was very pleased with me," Lizzy said, laughing a little as she burrowed her face into Darcy's shoulder. "She seemed to think that I was after your academic connections."
"She told me that you were probably after my money."
"Oh, Lord! Did she really?" The thought had never even occurred to Lizzy, except in the outrageous insinuations of that horrible article -- but she was glad that Darcy knew that his wealth and status weren't what Lizzy liked about him.
"I've known for a long time that for a woman as well-educated as she is, she really has the hardest time seeing past her own nose."
"As frustrating as my interview with her was... I think I'm a little glad that she came at me with her guns blazing like she did -- the more she went on and on about how you and I didn't belong together, the more that I realized that we did." She paused a moment, and then reiterated an earlier question that Darcy had not quite answered and that weighed heavily on her mind. "You forgive me for being stupid enough to jump into a relationship with George Wickham?"
He chose his words carefully. "It certainly bothered me to hear about it," he said, "but I already knew what was in your mind last term -- when you'd been fed such venom from Wickham. I realized that any involvement you had with him was because you believed him, and because he treated you in a manner that was far superior to the shabby one I inflicted on you. And I know that you've since recognized him for what he truly is. Yes -- it upset me, but I can understand what happened... the scholar's gift, perhaps. And now that he's safe in prison, paying for his deeds, well, he's a figure of my past now as well as yours. ... So, yes, absolutely, I forgive you, as you have hopefully forgiven me for my past errors."
"Of course I have! I've seen with my own eyes how you've atoned time and time again -- it's rather astounding, actually. These days so many people think that saying 'sorry' is the same thing as taking responsibility for their wrongs... when it's only the first step."
He smiled and then turned serious again, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him squarely. "And about George -- I wouldn't let you drift out of my life after a couple of months. ... Lizzy, I know that I'm older than you are, that I'm in a different place in life than you are -- and I don't expect you to swear away your future to me or anything like that, but, Lizzy, I mean this to be serious. I haven't ever felt this way about anyone else before."
Further disjointed lines from his youth ran through his head, this time in Scots, as he watched for Lizzy's reaction, the slender girl outlined breathtakingly against the mid-day silver of the sea.
"I know what you mean," Lizzy said quietly, gazing up at him as if he was someone far more flawless than he knew himself to be. "Because I feel exactly the same way."
Suddenly, standing there above the sea with the cold salt winds whipping about them, a great weight had lifted off of the shoulders of each and they were fully able to look at the other as if there weren't another person in the world -- no George Wickham, no Lady Catherine or Frances Bennet, no Caroline Bingley, or Jane, or Charles, or Georgiana or Lydia. What other people thought was no longer a problem: their road ahead might not be easy -- this wasn't a 'happily ever after' just yet -- but it was clear that it was a road that they would be traveling together.
* "Te bhan, te bhuidhe bhan." This is a line from the chorus of the Runrig song "Meadhan Oidhche Air An Acairseid" (Midnight on the Anchorage) from their 1995 album Mara. The phrase translates as "a fair-haired lass, a golden, fair-haired lass."
** "As fair thou art, my bonie lass..." From the song "A Red, Red Rose" by the immortal poet Robert Burns.
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Epilogue:
Jane peered out her window and stared out at the long drive at Glen Leigheas for the tenth time in so many minutes.
"Where is he?" she asked Lizzy, as if Lizzy would have some knowledge that she did not about the whereabouts of their father.
Lizzy opened her mouth to say once again that she had no idea when a whirring-thumping noise broke the silence of the summery countryside. The two girls ran over to the window and watched as Darcy skillfully landed the helicopter on the other end of the large lawn from where the grounds staff were setting out chairs and tents. The motor cut out and the propeller blades slowed, and soon the Bennet sisters could see three figures emerging from Darcy's helicopter, along with a small quantity of luggage. They ran downstairs.
"Dad!" Lizzy and Jane cried together, as they each in turn embraced the oldest of the three men, Darcy and Charles looking on with a mix of amusement and deference.
"Your young man managed to get me here safely, Lizzy," Thomas Bennet said dryly, as he turned to walk towards Leigheas House, a daughter linked to each arm. "Which I take as a good sign."
"I have long since become convinced that Will is an expert at anything he lays his hand to," Lizzy laughed. "Well, here you are, finally in Scotland! How do you like it?"
"Well, much the same as when I was here in the 'eighties," her father said complacently. "Except maybe a little shinier, with much higher prices and far better clothes. Good lord, I knew your Will must have a good deal of space to offer his house for the wedding, but this -- !" They had reached the front doors of Leigheas House and Thomas Bennet had only just managed to look about at his surroundings. He was a little shocked to say the least: he had only just met the enigmatic man who had apparently stolen his Lizzy's heart, and the extent of Darcy's wealth had been a little unexpected -- Lizzy had mentioned the Highland home and the distillery, of course, but her descriptions of Fitzwilliam Darcy had focused mainly on his charm, his scholarship, his kindness, his stubbornness.
"I was equally overcome the first time I saw it," Lizzy said with a slight smile, "and I came as a tourist, fully expecting to see a stately home. Come inside, we'll show you your room." She and Jane led their father up the stairs and down a hall, showing him into a pleasant, well-aired room with a window that vaguely looked in the direction of the loch. Darcy appeared a few minutes later, carrying Lizzy's father's luggage.
"Well?" Lizzy asked him, coming over to him as Jane pointed out various features of the scenery to her father at the window.
"Well what?" Darcy asked, knowing full well that Lizzy wanted to know how he'd gotten on with her father. Charles had gone out to the States with Jane a few months back to meet his prospective father-in-law, but Darcy had never met her father before and, as Lizzy loved and respected both men so much, she was anxious that they like one another.
Lizzy pulled a face.
"There wasn't much opportunity to talk in the helicopter," Darcy explained. "But he was cordial at the airport. He said 'so you're the young man who kept my daughter from coming home for her spring break.'"
"He didn't!" Lizzy cried, aghast.
"He did. Of course he knew that you'd decided to stay so that you could avoid paying the hefty fare home, and that you had, in fact, spent all of reading week touring Ireland with Charlotte. We got on fairly well after that, when I didn't get indignant at him for his comment."
"Which just shows that your sense of humor has been growing and mine waning," Lizzy concluded with a smile. Her father and Jane soon joined them and Darcy nodded, choosing to withdraw so that the little family could have some time on their own before the rest of the wedding-guests arrived and before Jane renounced the name of Bennet for good.
"Well, now that I am so thoroughly convinced that your sister is so blindingly happy, Lizzy my dear, I am afraid that you will end up with all of your old father's paternal concern."
"And yet I'm quite disgusting happy, too," Lizzy said, wrapping her arm around her father's.
"I like your Will. He's not easy to frighten. Charles was a lark, completely afraid of little old me, but this Will has gumption. Pleasant to find in a young person these days... though he's not so young, is he?"
"Dad," Lizzy said warningly. "He's seven years older than me, that's all."
"Yes, but soon he'll probably want to settle down, and if you also end up over here on a permanent basis, what is your poor old father to do?"
"I'm not ready to think about that," Lizzy owned, "but seeing as Dr Alban has been working with me on my doctorate application, it looks like I'll be staying over here for at least another three years after this coming year anyway."
"So I suppose I should think about finding a little place of my own, over here, when I retire in a few years. Could live near my brother, perhaps -- a very novel thought. ... Though you could have picked a country with a currency that has a better exchange rate!"
The Edinburgh Bennets were wrapped in a cloud of excitement as they spilled out of the car Darcy had sent to meet their train. Jane and Charles weren't to be married for another two days, but select guests had already begun to arrive, including the Gardiners, who had been very pleased to see Darcy and his home once more and had been dispatched towards one of the choicest guest bedrooms. Darcy had enjoyed seeing the couple again, too: he still had a great welling of gratitude in his heart for them for bringing Lizzy to Glen Leigheas and into his life again. He didn't suppose that this next meeting would be nearly as pleasant; he braced himself for meeting Lydia Bennet again -- it had been nearly seven months since they had last met -- in the police station in Glasgow -- and he was a little afraid that the renewed acquaintance might dig up some of the old trouble with George Wickham, which he and Lizzy had worked so hard to bury.
Oddly, he needn't have been afraid, though Lizzy held his hand in a comforting fashion as her relations disembarked and took turns saluting the bride and groom. Lydia seemed somehow different, though neither Lizzy nor Darcy could put their finger directly on the change and had to content themselves with giving each other surprised looks. They didn't have much time to wonder, however, as the Bennets descended on Lizzy and Darcy for their own greetings and appreciative compliments of Darcy's property.
"Yes, it's been in the family for centuries," Darcy answered Frances Bennet a little hopelessly, as he was peppered with enthusiastic questions about the estate. He bore with them nobly, however, knowing that -- despite their eccentricities and occasional vulgarities -- these people loved Lizzy dearly, and she them. ... And furthermore, they were no more embarrassing than some of his own relations... "If you'd like to know more about it, I'd be more than happy to ask Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, if she would have a moment to give you the grand tour -- the exclusive tour, of course, not the one we give to the general public." Frances Bennet beamed and him, and passed onwards, leaving Darcy to greet her husband.
"Lizzy," her Uncle Bennet said, embracing his niece warmly. "Darcy, excellent to see you again." Darcy tried his best not to look embarrassed, as the last time the two men had met had also been in Glasgow -- with Darcy looking a bit the worse for wear after his violent scuffle with Wickham.
"And you, sir," he managed to say, but the the proprietor of the Highland Hammie stores had already passed on as well, joining up with his wife to gaze about the estate with unveiled interest.
After Mary had taken her turn to be affectionately embraced, Lizzy smiled as Kitty came over.
"Good to see you!" Lizzy cried, hugging her cousin, whose company she had been enjoying more and more as the months had progressed and the girl had continued to mature.
"It's nice to see the natural habitat," Kitty commented cheekily, giving Darcy a peck on the cheek after she'd saluted her cousin. Having known about Lizzy and Darcy for longer than any of the rest of her family, she rather felt that she had some proprietorship of their happiness, and, furthermore, she got along with both of them very well and had formed a cordial friendship with Georgiana. "Is Georgie about?"
"I think she's laying down the law to the musicians we hired for the wedding... classmates of Georgie's. One young idiot has decided that he needs to play the pipes since it's a wedding in the Highlands, and it's been playing havoc with the orchestration-- "
"I've been meaning to ask," Lizzy cut in, smiling in apology at Darcy as his anecdote was left unfinished. "You never said where Lydia was going to go for university."
"Oh!" Kitty said, with a smile. "That's because she isn't going to university this coming year... she's taking a little break."
"I thought your father refused to give her a gap year."
"A gap year of traveling about, partying in each time zone of the world," Kitty agreed, nodding. "But he's approved this -- Lydia's discovered the joys of the Cadets... and is going to take a year to do training programs and things with them."
"What?" asked Lizzy and Darcy, at once, a little stunned. Lydia had found joy in junior level army training?
"Mum and Dad aren't complaining," Kitty said, shrugging. "And the best part is that she's going to be in England for most of it, nowhere near Edinburgh. Oh! I see Georgie, I'll just run along." And she left.
"I'd never have thought of that," Darcy said, bemused. "But I wish her well."
"You can wish her well yourself," Lizzy whispered, as Lydia approached, looking fully unabashed to see her former rescuer again -- but not from a lack of manners... unabashed because of some new self-awareness. She deported herself surprisingly well, and Darcy could only reflect that Lizzy's relations seemed to have far more redeeming qualities about them than certain of his own did.
It was a beautiful wedding, as befitted two such good and kind people as Jane née Bennet and Charles Bingley. It was a wedding held on the wide, beautiful lawn of Leigheas House, with a hundred guests come to celebrate the day. The loch sparkled a brilliant blue in one direction, the windows of the stone house gray in the other. Dozens of bottles of Darcy's good single malt glowed goldenly throughout the reception area, and the air was full of the perfumes of the gardens.
The bride and the groom were very much in love, all of the guests murmured to each other. Some admired the bride's simple gown, others commented the general aesthetic of the event -- tastefully elegant and understated in cream with highlights of blue and green -- and all admired the venue: Glen Leigheas had not seen a wedding in over thirty years, and the staff and house alike seemed to bask in this opportunity to shine.
The best man and the maid of honor were also very much in love, several of the guests noted. Jane's exquisite eye for clothing had allowed Lizzy a decidedly flattering dress for the occasion in a blue that set off the gold of her hair and the blue of her eyes admirably, and Darcy was no less spectacular in his full regalia -- though neither had much attention to spare to anyone except for Jane, Charles and Mr Bennet that day.
One wedding begets thoughts of another.
Lizzy and Darcy took to the dance floor soon after Jane and Charles, and Lizzy was silent for a moment, enjoying Darcy's competent lead and the marvelous feeling of being in his arms in the center of a crowd. The last time she had danced with Darcy had been months and months ago, at Caroline Bingley's ceilidh, and she certainly hadn't appreciated the sensation enough at that time.
"Was it just me?" Darcy asked her softly, after a moment.
"Was what?" Lizzy asked, looking up at the man she loved.
"Was it just me, standing there throughout the ceremony, wondering: what would it be like if it were me?"
"No," Lizzy admitted, blushing a little. She knew full well that she had had the same thoughts, even though she also recognized that she was still too young to want to be married, as much as she cared for Darcy. "I had those thoughts too."
"And what did you think about them?" Darcy asked, taking a moment to tuck a falling strand of Lizzy's hair back into the arrangement Kitty had spent so much time on that morning.
Lizzy bit her lip. "I thought: this is beautiful. This is absolutely gorgeous. And wouldn't I like the same thing in a few years down the line... but not with Charles, of course."
"Of course," Darcy agreed. Lizzy's response had been much what he had expected -- much as he'd picked up from her in the last months. He could wait... he had waited years to meet someone like Lizzy, and now that she was in his life, he felt no need to risk scaring her off.
"There are so many guests," Lizzy commented, after they had had a few moments of peaceful silence. And there were many guests, despite the fact that Lizzy's family was fairly small and Charles's even more so -- especially since Caroline had had the tact to stay away lest she somehow mar the occasion after her feud with the host.
"You always need to talk when you dance, don't you?" Darcy teased, remembering that dance at the ceilidh, ages ago. "What was it? 'It's polite. It would look pointed if partners didn't talk or laugh at all'?"
"Do you remember everything I ever said?" Lizzy asked, half surprised, half embarrassed.
"I was head over heels in love with you at the time," Darcy protested, "and that dance was probably the most time I had ever spent with you, apart from class or in large groups."
"And I was completely unappreciative."
"It doesn't matter. You're nicely appreciative now." He gave her a suggestive smile.
"Beast!"
"I think it is also impolite and also looks pointed when you start berating your dance partner in full view of a hundred other people," Darcy pointed out.
"You didn't see me dance with Collins, then, did you? This is nowhere near half as pointed and impolite. ... Speaking of Collins, I don't think that I've seen him in ages. Have you?"
"Happily not! I sometimes wonder whether he may have been ordered to stay away -- Aunt Catherine and I still aren't on the best of terms..."
"I'm sorry, Will."
"It was never your fault, Lizzy," Darcy assured her, drawing Lizzy closer into his arms. "You were only the catalyst to an argument that was waiting to be fought... I never was going to go down to England to take a demanding post, I love my country and my responsibilities here too much." Lizzy still looked concerned. "Come on," Darcy said, drawing her away from the dance floor as more and more other couples began streaming out onto it.
"Come on where?" asked Lizzy suspiciously, as her heels sank a little into the grass.
"What's the point of having two-hundred odd acres of property if I can't spend a little time alone with you?" Darcy said softly. "We've done our duty for the last few days and this morning, and we've been ideal hosts and helpers and friends and siblings... I've been dreaming of a quiet walk with you for days now."
"I'd like that too," Lizzy replied with a smile. She quickly slipped off her smart sandals and started to walk barefoot through the grass, her free hand firmly intertwined with his.
"Who was that?" Jane asked Charles after they were congratulated by yet another well-wisher.
"I haven't the foggiest," Charles answered with a laugh. "I thought maybe it was someone you knew!"
"Maybe it's someone that Darcy knows?" Jane asked sensibly. She was still smiling. She had been smiling for hours and didn't think that she would ever want to stop. This was the happiest day of her life, and nothing was going to ruin it, not even the blister she felt forming on her heel. She pulled Charles back over to their table and settled down into her comfortable chair with a happy sigh.
"You reticle was ringing a few minutes ago," Thomas Bennet offered, pushing said item towards Jane across the table. He seemed happy and mellow, surprisingly pleased to see his beloved daughter so happily married even if it meant that she'd be less in his life than ever before.
Jane took up the bag and pulled out her mobile phone, listening with interest to the voicemail message that had been left. She smiled yet again and handed the phone off to Charles, who also listened to the message before setting the phone down again.
"So your house is all ready for us," Jane said.
"Our house." Charles turned to explain to Jane's father. "Caroline was overseeing the last of the movers today -- we've refurnished the house but there were some delays, so Caroline offered to stay and oversee them. Sweet of her, really, but I think she's avoiding Darcy and didn't want to show up at his house, even for my wedding."
"Oh?" asked Thomas Bennet, intrigued. He'd heard a fair bit about Charles's sister in the past and was a little surprised at how kindly Jane and Charles both seemed to think of her -- even though they were the world's two most kindly souls.
"She's a new woman since her therapy," Jane agreed, "but she still thought it might be asking a bit much of Darcy to play host to her. I'm to save her some cake -- and I think she might actually eat it. You'll have to stop by the Edinburgh house before you leave for home," she added. "Caroline seems to have worked out a great deal of her guilt by assembling two dozen settings of the world's most gorgeous antique china pattern for us. I think she's thinking of maybe moving into interior decoration now that her writing career is done."
"She's signed up to do a degree in it, yes," Charles agreed. "And I think it'll be good for her."
"And will you have many events in which you'll need two dozen place settings?" asked Thomas Bennet, amused.
"Oh, I hope not!" Jane answered. "At least not for a good long time! One of the reasons I married Charles was because I wanted to spend my time with just him."
"Oh, then I fear you've made a mistake, my dear. Marriage is never a private thing. And you're both so pleasant that I'm sure you'll have more than two dozen friends who will want to celebrate your marriage with you yet."
"Oh dear... maybe we should ask Caroline to scare up another dozen?" Charles asked Jane, a worried expression on his face.
"I'm sure she'd be delighted," said Jane. She thought that she had reached a rather nice place between her own family and his. She looked forward to living married life, and glowed with an inner confidence that made her lovelier than ever.
"If any two people ever deserved each other, they are you," Thomas Bennet concluded, taking the hands of each. He had every reason to believe that this would be a case of Happily Ever After, and this gratified his paternal feelings.
"Tha gaol agam ort,"* Lizzy whispered to Darcy, as they sat side by side on the ledge of the small pavilion with the angel weathervane.
"What did you say?" asked Darcy, a little surprised. His thoughts had been wandering, drifting about here and there in the memories of these last few, magical months. Life had somehow fallen into place for him: his business was humming along beautifully under the manager, the town was flourishing under the patronage of his estate, he had passed the requirements for his D.Phil with honors and he had a new project lined up for post-doctoral research, his sister was happier than ever before, and he had a beautiful, fascinating, exhilarating partner in his studies and life in Lizzy Bennet. ... Whatever angels watched over Glen Leigheas had been very kind to him indeed... and now this, too.
"Tha gaol agam ort," Lizzy repeated, her eyes on Darcy, taking each syllable slowly; her ability with Gaelic still far, far better on paper than in speech.
He had understood her the first time, but hadn't quite believed his ears. Lizzy rarely spoke any of the few words of Gaelic she knew, though she would listen to Darcy recite songs or poems in that language often enough, unable to quite follow him but enjoying the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes when he broke into this language. This now -- Lizzy telling him that she loved him, in a tongue that spoke to him and his blood inside him like no other language on earth -- this was something: this was the truest declaration of Lizzy's love she had ever made, and a deliberate one on her part. This was a declaration of Lizzy's investment of her mind and her heart -- her two greatest organs -- in Darcy, and his mind, and his heart.
Words could not suffice, not after Lizzy had found the most perfect words Darcy had ever heard. He took her head in his hands and kissed her lightly, gently, sweetly. They might not have their exact paths in life figured out yet -- Darcy didn't know where he would be able to find an academic appointment; Lizzy didn't know for certain whether she would continue at St Andrews, as she wanted to, or elsewhere; and they were still young -- but the sense that each had had back on the esplanade overlooking the North Sea suddenly returned: the way was not certain, but the company was clear.
The kiss deepened, and the two became oblivious to the world, wrapped firmly in the truths that mattered most to them, the certainties they shared.
* "Tha gaol agam ort." Gaelic for "I love you."
** "A' thru the nicht..." From William Soutar, The Tryst.
Finis.