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Chapter Thirteen
Posted on Tuesday, 19 September 2006
Henry Bingley was lost. Is this a case of self-fulfilling prophecy or am I just an idiot? Having taken out his horse instead of calling on the Bennets, he had galloped off in what had seemed an innocuous direction. But the sun was high and he had temporarily lost his way. Perhaps if I stop under that shade tree, the sun will move enough for me to orient myself. Too bad the more pleasant half of my prophecy did not come true as well.
Laughing at his own absurdity, Henry settled down under the shade of the nearest chestnut. Though it was nearly December, the sun was warm enough to make him uncomfortable in his waistcoat, cravat, coat and greatcoat. He took off his greatcoat to use as a pillow and lay back for a well-deserved rest. My sleep has been short each night this week. First it was the ball preparations and Charles' nerves, then it was the ball and that awful conversation with Caroline, and finally it was my conversation with Darcy that put me in an unquiet state. Maybe it is better if I just head back to Kympton early. It would not hurt to arrive early to polish my first Advent sermon. I love Christmas. With such pleasant thoughts and such a deficit of sleep, it was no trouble at all for him to fall into a rather deep sleep under the old chestnut.
"The old chestnut just over there? Are you certain?" Kitty, pointing beyond the small hill in front of them to a venerable chestnut tree, asked Lydia for clarification.
"Lizzy said she saw some still there. If Mrs. Turner were not so stingy, I should have had some from the kitchen stores last night. I longed for some roasted chestnuts, but she said I had eaten too many and there would be none left for the chestnut stuffing. Well, she cannot forbid me to eat the ones I find myself!" Lydia looked to Maria Lucas for support. The youngest Bennets had paid an early call on Maria, and the Lucas sisters elected to accompany them back to Longbourn the long way round via the old chestnut.
"I am just glad I wore my sensible boots. This terrain is rougher than I remembered it. Let us find them and get to Longbourn quickly." Charlotte was beginning to regret her hasty agreement to accompany Maria and the two youngest Miss Bennets on this excursion. She was too old to be traipsing about the countryside looking for treats.
"Yes, for I know you want to ask Lizzy all about her dance partners! Mr. Darcy even asked her to dance. I think I would have forgotten all my steps from sheer nervousness. But we both danced with Mr. Henry Bingley..."
And as if Kitty had conjured him, there he was: Henry Bingley, asleep under the very tree they were looking for.
Or, at least he had been asleep, for the noise of four women chatting amicably while tromping up a hill had already begun to rouse him; the sound of his name caused him to come more fully though not clearly awake. He had been dreaming indistinctly about himself in King Arthur's court. There was a maze he could not escape and something about a damsel who knew the way. As he opened his eyes, he echoed his last, jesting words to Darcy, "My lady fair."
When he opened his eyes, he saw not one but four pairs of eyes looking back.
Maria and Lydia, for once at a loss for words, burst into giggles.
Kitty blushed crimson, for she had just been on the verge of describing her dance with this very man and here he was, mumbling charming nonsense.
Charlotte, ever practical, gathered her wits first. "Are you all right, Mr. Bingley? You are not injured, I hope."
"No. No! Not injured." Henry got to his feet quickly, too quickly, and had to steady himself on the tree. "Well, a bit disoriented, perhaps. And lost. And perhaps a bit embarrassed. But not injured. Thank you for your concern."
"Lost? Lost! You are but half a mile from Longbourn." Lydia had found her voice though not her tact.
"We are hunting late chestnuts. If you would care to join us, we would be happy to show you the way back to civilisation as soon as we've finished," Charlotte offered with an encouraging smile.
"I do not think it will take long," added Kitty, "for I cannot see more than a few. That rain must have brought down those that Lizzy saw."
"I would be more than happy to help you ladies. However, I have to concur with Miss Kitty-there do not seem to be many remaining." Henry shook out his coat as unobtrusively as possible with an audience of four, and placed his hat back on his head. He marvelled at his prophetic abilities: he had got lost and found by not one lady but four. If Darcy found out about this, he would never hear the end of "Henry, the minor prophet" jokes.
After they hunted a bit longer, with Lydia even picking up a few good-looking windfalls, the exercise was declared futile and they decided to take their leave.
In the company of four lovely ladies, and having completely forgotten his earlier declaration that he would not venture there today, Henry Bingley paid a call at Longbourn.
Many people had called at Longbourn today-and none of them appeared to be leaving any time soon.
"I was hoping to have a moment of your father's time, but he does not seem to be present." Darcy murmured to Lizzy.
"Have you never noticed that my father is most often absent at such times as these? He has no patience for a crowded room or for the sort of small talk that commonly takes place in one."
"We have something in common, then, beyond our fondness for a certain lady."
"I never thought to call you fond of my mother, sir. I shall have to tell her you said so." Lizzy laughed at the priceless expression on Darcy's face. He looked like he wanted to deny any such thing but could not think of a way to do it tactfully.
"I believe you know the woman to whom I was referring," he settled on, lowering his voice even further.
"My, my, what it is you speak about so low, Mr. Darcy? If you continue in such a manner, you will surely incite the curiosity of the whole room." Caroline Bingley had not felt able to deny her brother's request that she accompany him to visit Jane, nor had she felt able to resist interrupting the obviously private discourse taking place between Eliza Bennet and Mr. Darcy.
"I was about to ask Miss Bennet if she knew where her father was. I have some urgent matters of neighbourhood business to discuss with him." This deflection was not an entire falsehood, as Darcy had not forgotten the need to warn Mr. Bennet of Wickham's infamous ways.
"Neighbourhood business? What can you have to say about this neighbourhood? You are quitting it very soon, are you not, to spend Christmas in town with Miss Darcy?" Caroline's eyes shone with triumph as she displayed her superior knowledge of Mr. Darcy's most intimate plans.
Elizabeth was taken aback by Caroline's comment. She and Darcy had not had time to canvass every topic during their early morning encounter. But, the idea the Darcy would be leaving so soon had not occurred to her.
"You are right, in part, Miss Bingley. But I believe you also heard me say I would be returning by Twelfth Night, perhaps with my sister, if all goes well. All of which makes my need to talk to Mr. Bennet all the more pressing. Miss Bennet, would you be so kind as to show me the library? I do not believe I have had the pleasure." Darcy looked at Elizabeth, hoping she understood that he could not fully explain himself in front of Caroline Bingley.
"Of course, Mr. Darcy. This way." Elizabeth, relieved by his obvious desire to put her mind at rest-and introduce Georgiana to her, led him from the room without further ceremony, leaving Caroline Bingley standing alone and not amused.
"I am not amused, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps you will tell me the punch line of your little joke and we can get to the second part of our interview-the one involving my neighbourhood."
"Mr. Bennet, I assure you that my "little joke", as you call it, is anything but a joke. I have never been more in earnest about anything in my life. Is it so hard to imagine that I have come to have ... tender feelings for your daughter?"
"Mr. Darcy, you amaze me! You may possibly be the least "tender" person of my acquaintance. Nevertheless, it is not that part of the equation that I find most hard to believe. It does not take a great effort to imagine any man becoming enamoured of my favourite child; I might rather wonder why there have not been more eager suitors, considering the inducement. No, the part of the equation that I find incredible is your assertion that she has come to have "tender feelings" for you in return. If I may be blunt?" Mr. Bennet paused here, feeling he really ought to give the man a chance to back out now .
"Yes. Of course. I would hear anything that you have to say to me." As long as it is not 'no', thought Darcy.
"I am afraid Elizabeth does not even like you, much less ... When she stayed at Netherfield just a few weeks ago, she could not wait to be free of you. I am sorry to say it, but so it is."
"I can well believe it."
"You can? Then what, pray tell, are you doing here, sir? I cannot make you out at all."
" Though I have long had a ... fondness for your daughter, I was uncertain if it was wise to pursue a deeper connection. Therefore, I was overly circumspect and perhaps even uncivil at times while she resided at Netherfield. I was afraid my feelings would be known and expectations would be raised. May I be equally frank?" Darcy knew this was not the usual rhetoric of a man violently in love, but he also wanted to help Mr. Bennet understand him and how far he had come in just a few short days.
"Certainly. Indeed, there is very little I could refuse a man such as yourself, Mr. Darcy. Except perhaps the right to court my Lizzy. You must understand that if she publicly rejected you, it would harm her prospects for any future alliance."
"If I had any fears of her rejecting me, I would not be here now. Do you really think I am the sort of man who endeavours to entrap a woman into an 'alliance' by getting her father on my side? Miss Elizabeth and I have both been mistaken in a great many things: she in her opinion of my treatment of George Wickham and in my character in general, and I in my mistaken belief that she was not worthy of me."
Mr. Bennet began to redden and looked about to leap to Elizabeth's defense when Darcy intervened.
"Mistaken, sir. I said I was mistaken. A friend challenged my long-held assumptions that I had to make a match among my own circle, and the more private conversations I had with Miss Elizabeth, the more I began to realise that she is most definitely a woman worthy of pursuit, no matter her current station in life."
"Private conversations, sir? Is there something nefarious afoot here?"
"You have already mentioned one venue for such talks-her time at Netherfield when Miss Bennet was ill. We also had two dances and supper at the Netherfield Ball." Here Darcy paused, unwilling to share their morning rambles with anyone else, but knowing that he ought to confess all.
"And..." Mr. Bennet noticed the way Darcy had trailed off, as though unwilling to tell all. No man raises five children without recognising the signs of evasion when presented with them.
Taking a deep breath, Darcy soldiered on, admitting, "We have happened upon each other while taking our morning constitutionals twice now, quite by accident, and have only this very morning come to an understanding of sorts. It was then that I asked her if I could seek your permission to court her formally." And she asked if I would continue to woo her privately, Darcy had the presence of mind not to add.
"You were not discovered? She has not agreed because...because she feels she has no choice?" Mr. Bennet had begun to worry that Lizzy had already been compromised, in reputation if not in fact, but he could not come out and directly accuse such a man as Mr. Darcy of such a thing.
Darcy was growing angry, but he knew that he would be even more blunt than Mr. Bennet if such a thing had happened between Georgiana and even the most reputable suitor. How different these matters appeared when the boot was on the other foot! So, he took another deep breath and gathered his wits.
"First, nothing untoward happened between Miss Elizabeth and me. We talked. I believe I took her hand in parting today, and that is the extent of any ... intimacy between us. Second, I do not believe we were "discovered", but if we had been seen, any observer must have noted that we were each shocked at meeting the other. Today I nearly ran the poor girl over with my horse, Stallion. I doubt a secret assignation would begin thus."
"Your horse's name is 'Stallion'?"
"Yes. I take it by this non-sequitor that I have relieved your fears about your daughter's virtue," ground out Darcy, who was still trying to control himself after being not-so-subtly accused of Wickhamesque behaviour.
"Oh. Yes. I am sorry to have seemed to doubt your honour, Mr. Darcy, but you must understand that this is all so sudden. I can hardly credit it, and yet a meeting during a morning walk certainly does sound like my Lizzy. She has accepted you, then? Really?"
"She has accepted my desire to court her. We have not spoken further than that, but I assure you that my intentions are honourable. I am no rattlepate who changes his attachments as often as his cravat, whatever else you may think of me." Darcy could begin to sense a turning in the conversation and hope began to blossom in his chest. He had been unused to asking leave of anyone in many years, and the experience had not exactly been a pleasant one.
"No, not a rattlepate. Never that. Yes, Mr. Darcy, if Lizzy has given you leave to court her, I am hardly one to stop her. Would you like to announce it generally today, or shall I tell the family at supper first and spare my wife a potential apoplexy for a few hours more?"
"Whatever you think best, sir. Or perhaps we should let Miss Elizabeth decide. " Mr. Darcy would have held the information dear for as long as he could if it would not defeat the purpose of a declared courtship. He did not want any taint of doubt about his choice or his intentions to take root because of his reticence to be in the public eye.
"Shall I call for Lizzy then?" Though Mr. Bennet had said he was not amused at the outset of this conversation, he was well on his way to being so now. Who would have thought a week ago that he would have three of his daughters spoken for by today? It seemed incredible and yet, truth be told, it pleased him to know that he didn't have to fear his demise nearly so much with his daughters well, or at least mostly well, taken care of.
"No. As much as I would like to see her," Darcy gave what was to be his last smile for quite some time, "there is another, less pleasant, matter that I need to discuss with you. May I trespass on your time a little longer?"
Chapter Fourteen
Posted on Monday, 11 December 2006
"I believe we have trespassed on your time long enough." Caroline Bingley was clutching her brother Henry's sleeve as though she might remove him bodily from the room if he did not go willingly.
"Time?" Henry was sure he had only been talking to Miss Kitty and Miss Lucas for a few moments. But, upon examining his watch he realised that he had been there over an hour. "Excuse me. I had no idea. I must agree with my sister that we should be on our way. Caroline, how did you come?"
"In the carriage with Charles and Mr. Darcy. You came on horse, I presume?"
"Well, on foot, the last part of the journey; I have my horse, but I am not sure I can be trusted not to lose my way." Kitty laughed and Charlotte smiled at the recollection of their unorthodox meeting.
"Don't be ridiculous, Henry, you have ridden between Longbourn and Netherfield far too many times to become lost!"
Henry would have explained, but Caroline cut him off, saying, "Leave your horse for Charles, if it does not please him to leave yet, and find Mr. Darcy. We really must be off."
"Find Darcy? Has he got lost as well?" At this even Charlotte had to laugh and the three co-conspirators shared a chuckle while Caroline fumed, wondering if she was the only sane person left in Hertfordshire.
"Of course not. He went to talk with Mr. Bennet about something trivial and has never come out again. I insist that you retrieve the poor man." Caroline was too well bred to add that poor Mr. Darcy was probably desperate for escape, but her audience understood her full meaning nonetheless.
Kitty, so often cowed by Miss Bingley's society ways, was fresh from an invigorating walk and an hour's good conversation with Henry and Charlotte-and Miss Bingley's tone irked her. "I would be happy to show you the way to my father's study, Mr. Bingley, unless you fear that you too might be entrapped there?" Kitty's chin lifted just a bit as she finished her query.
"No, indeed, Miss Kitty. You have already proven a faithful guide once today and if I must undertake this errand, I would be happy for your assistance." With a glance at Caroline that showed him he would have no peace if he did not find Darcy, he added, "Thank you for your earlier assistance, as well, Miss Lucas. I take my leave of you."
"I take my leave of you, then, sir." Darcy was shaking hands with Mr. Bennet at the library door as Kitty and Henry approached. Only then did it occur to Henry that he might be interrupting the very conversation that he had hoped to one day be having with Mr. Bennet. He flushed at the thought, willing himself not to turn tail and run at this awkward turn of events. How could he have forgotten that he had had no intention of visiting Longbourn today for this very reason? Well, there was nothing for it now.
"Darcy, I am sent to tell you that my sister feels we have overstayed our welcome and has called for the carriage." At Darcy's dark look, Henry improvised, "It occurs to me, however, that if you are not ready to depart, we can just as easily send the carriage back for you later."
"Perhaps it would be better if you all went home now," interrupted Mr. Bennet, smiling at Darcy's look of disappointment and confusion a moment before adding, "so that you may dress for dinner. I am sure that my wife would not mind my extending our hospitality to include a few more."
"That is very kind of you, Mr. Bennet, and I am certain that Charles would be happy to accept. I am afraid, however, that Caroline will have already made her usual elaborate plans, and I would not want to disappoint her or leave her with an odd number." Henry deftly excused himself from being surrounded by not one but three happy couples while giving Darcy a tacit explanation for shunning Caroline's table - albeit a flimsy one.
"In that case, I had better accept your gracious invitation, Mr. Bennet. I would not want to leave Miss Bingley with an odd number." Darcy's barely repressed smile was reward enough for Henry.
As Darcy and Henry left to find Caroline and Charles, Mr. Bennet turned to his penultimate daughter. "Why so glum, Kitty dear? A minute ago you looked quite pleased with yourself."
"I am not glum, Papa, but I do confess I would rather Mr. Darcy made Miss Bingley's fourth and Mr. Henry Bingley dined here."
"Oh, is that the lay of the land? You have set your cap at Henry Bingley, have you? Four daughters paired off in one week. Your mother will be beside herself."
"Do not tease so, Papa. I do not think Mr. Bingley would even consider me. He is so much older, and a clergyman at that. But he is rather nice. Did you say four?" Kitty belatedly realised that her father had overstated the number by more than just her.
"Four. Or three, if you are really unattached. That is the reason why Mr. Darcy was so eager to dine here tonight."
Kitty was dumbfounded. "Mr. Darcy?"
Elizabeth was dumbfounded. "Mr. Darcy? Are you leaving so soon?" With no real attempt to inform her of the results of his meeting with her father, it seemed as though Mr. Darcy was getting ready to leave with none other than Caroline Bingley.
"Miss Elizabeth, there you are. I was looking for you a minute ago."
"But now you are leaving?"
"I have a dinner engagement for this evening and..."
"And so you must rush off?"
"And so I must rush off to dress, so I can be back here in good time."
"Here?"
"Yes, your father invited Bingley and me to dine. I tried to tell you, but you seemed to be occupied by your mother, and Miss Bingley has been most adamant that we leave." Lowering his voice, he added, "Since I am depriving her dinner table of my presence, a fact of which she is yet unaware, I thought it would be politick to attend her back to Netherfield now. Surely you have more faith in the steadiness of my ... character..."
Caroline Bingley caught only the last few words, but felt justified in cutting Mr. Darcy off in order to defend him, "Miss Eliza, surely you can have no doubts as to the steadiness of Mr. Darcy's character. There is not a more upright man in all of England. His word is his bond. He is always scrupulous in keeping his commitments."
As Caroline drew breath to continue her praises of Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth could not resist a minor repayment of the anxiety she had lately felt, "Thank you for that testimony, Miss Bingley, it is most enlightening in the present case. Well, then, Mr. Darcy, if your ... character ... is truly so steady and you always keep your word, I expect we will see you back here for dinner very shortly." And with a small curtsey and a mischievous smile, she left Mr. Darcy to deal with Caroline's pique at having her dinner plans disarranged by the likes of Elizabeth Bennet.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth Bennet? Our Lizzy?" Mrs. Bennet was obviously having trouble believing her husband's disclosure. "She is courting Mr. Darcy?"
"Well, my dear, I believe the common mode is for the man to do the courting, but you've got the gist of it." Mr. Bennet had expected surprise, but not outright befuddlement. He was glad that Lizzy had chosen to have her mother told with no guests present.
"And he is joining our simple family dinner? Today?" The fog was beginning to clear. There was much to be done. Could any fish be got at this late hour? "I must talk to Cook!"
"Cook? What does Cook have to do with a third daughter being paired up in less than a week? Are you not pleased?"
"Pleased? Of course I am pleased! Do not be so foolish. Yet, I must have a third course, or what will Mr. Darcy think?"
"He will think that he is very much taken with our second daughter. I doubt he will care a fig for the third course."
"Lizzy has done very well, but if she is to secure him, she will need all the help she can get. She is not half the beauty Jane is, nor so well suited to him as Mary is to Mr. Collins. And we cannot depend on wardrobe malfunctions in every case. No, I must give Lizzy all the help I can." And with that dire proclamation, Mrs. Bennet departed to beg, borrow or steal a fish course, now that Mr. Darcy was on the hook!
Mr. Bennet stared at his wife's retreating form in amazement. I hope Mr. Darcy is as stouthearted as he seems. Just in case, I should probably warn Lizzy.
Chapter Fifteen
Posted on Monday, 8 January 2007
"You should have warned me, Lizzy!" Jane tried to sound fierce, but her joy bubbled over, making it impossible to achieve a severe enough tone.
"Oh, Jane, the look on your face when Mama mentioned our courtship. I am sorry. But you were in conversation with Charles the whole time before dinner and I really did want to spend more time than usual on my toilette." Lizzy blushed at her own admission of weakness. This business of yielding one's heart made one more vulnerable than she was comfortable being.
"Poor Charles! We quite lost track of the time, and he was the only one not properly dressed for dinner. I was able to change my gown at least."
"If you did not mind, I am sure it did not bother anyone else, including Mr. Bingley. He has such happy manners as must please the whole room whatever he wears."
"He does. Your Mr. Darcy was more talkative than usual. He was very nearly charming."
"Nearly! That is a fine compliment. I, on the other hand, found him too charming-he spoke with everyone in the room but me!"
"Lizzy, do not exaggerate so. I seem to remember finding it hard to get a cup of tea at one point in the evening. You were rather remiss in your duties, except when the man at your side needed his cup refilled."
"He and I have barely had ten minutes to spend alone since all of this happened, Jane. Your courtship is now of several days' duration-positively ancient among this family's recent romantic entanglements! Therefore, you and Mr. Bingley have had numerous chances to speak of ... things. Mr. Darcy was sequestered with Father so long this afternoon that I hardly saw him, much less spoke to him, and then Caroline Bingley took possession of him immediately thereafter.
"What is worse is that she had earlier mentioned Mr. Darcy's leaving for town for Christmas, and I had had no time to discuss the matter with him. That comprised most of our conversation during tea. He mentioned he had additional reasons for going to town than just Christmas with Georgiana, and he hinted that it would somehow benefit you." Lizzy delighted in teasing her sister with bits of information like this, for though Jane could keep a secret forever, she hated knowing there was one being kept from her-especially one about her.
"Lizzy! You are too cruel. Tell me what you suspect this instant!" Jane laughed and playfully tugged at Lizzy's braid, but Elizabeth was unmoved.
Well into the night the sisters talked and laughed about the happy circumstance of their both being courted at once-and by two such kind and respectable gentlemen. They did not overtly touch on the men's eligibility, but it was understood that such advantageous matches went beyond even the most far-fetched of their girlhood imaginings.
"I am sure these attachments go far beyond even the most far-fetched of the Bennet girls' imaginings," Caroline had the misfortune to declare just as Charles and Mr. Darcy entered the room.
"How did you hear of it before me? I was actually shocked speechless at dinner when Mrs. Bennet mentioned it." Charles was grinning from ear to ear, not having really felt the full measure of Caroline's rude remark in his euphoria about becoming Jane's future husband and most likely Darcy's brother. The fact that Darcy had early been opposed to his own match was also quite forgotten in the joy of the newest tidings.
Caroline, however, had heard no such tidings and was looking at her brother as though he might qualify for a room in Bedlam. "Charles, how could I have missed the news of your courtship and Mary Bennet's engagement? It is not as if Mrs. Bennet could keep such tidings to herself. You know very well that it was all anyone could talk of on our call today."
"Then you have not heard the latest news. By your remark about the Bennet girls, I thought you must have. Darcy, would you like to share this gem or shall I?" At Charles' words, Caroline blanched and reached for the back of the settee.
"I would be happy to speak for myself. Nevertheless, I must first inform Miss Bingley that if the events of the past day are beyond Miss Elizabeth's imaginings, they far and away exceed my own as well. You see, Miss Bingley, Miss Elizabeth Bennet has done me the honour of allowing me to court her. I was unaware before dinner whether or not it would be announced publicly just yet, and as such, I did not feel I could share the news with you until now."
The silence was prolonged.
Finally, when Darcy was about to excuse himself to retire to his rooms, Henry spoke up. "Let me be one of the first to wish you joy. You are a lucky man, Darcy, and a wise one, too, to recognise such a treasure."
"I do feel lucky. Blessed, even. And I thank you for your compliments. Now, however, I believe I ought to retire, as I was up rather early this morning." Smiling at the recollection, Darcy departed instead of waiting around to accept the insincere congratulations that may, or may not, have flowed from the other occupants of the room.
It is impossible to tell what would have happened had he stayed, but his leaving was the cue for Caroline to begin an invective against Eliza Bennet. She was stopped, not by Henry or Charles, but by Louisa, who guided her forcefully by the arm, up the stairs and to her chambers.
Once out of earshot of their brothers, she began, "Caroline! What is past is past. You must look to the future. Charles will marry Jane; he is determined and this news can only make him more so. Furthermore, you have known Mr. Darcy these six or seven years. You know how dear he holds his honour. Do you think that your insults and insinuations will change his mind? No. They will only cause a breach in our family's relationship with him, and perhaps even in our, your, relationship with Charles. You must conquer this. Rail about it in the privacy of your own rooms-without your maid present-if you must, but do not raise the issue publicly again."
"Louisa, how can you be so unfeeling? You know what I had hoped, what I..."
"What was not far beyond your own imaginings? Yes, of course I did. But you are a practical woman, my dear. All the fancies of the last years must now be put to rest or you stand to lose much. Content yourself in the knowledge that if we behave in a civil manner towards the Bennet sisters, we stand not only to maintain but also to increase our intimacy with the Darcy family and with Pemberley. We will be family, after all."
"Family." Caroline seemed to deflate, her shoulders losing their customary erectness.
"Yes. And that is not nothing, Caroline."
"No. You are right. Family is not nothing." Caroline paused in thought before adding, "My one consolation is that at least Henry will no longer be dreaming of that Bennet girl."
Henry was dreaming of a Bennet girl. Correction, Henry was dreaming of Bennet girls. All of them, it seemed. An image of him performing the wedding of Mary to Mr. Collins was succeeded by one of his attending the same event, Kitty by his side. Next, Lydia was pelting him with chestnuts while he laughed and told her to "grow up, Little Sister". Jane Bennet entered the scene and calmed Lydia with a reproachful look, handing her a little boy that he somehow knew was Charles' son. Elizabeth appeared, laughing, and held out her hands for him to join a lively reel that was already in progress. As the reel continued, he was forced to watch Darcy sweep Elizabeth away, the reel becoming a pavane of a different sort-a waltz, something of which he had only read.
As Henry awoke slowly, he realised that he had somehow taken dream-Darcy's place for a few moments, dancing entwined with a Bennet girl who seemed to love him and not Darcy. The only question that remained was, Which Bennet girl had it been? He could not recall her face, but he remembered for a vivid instant the way she had felt in his arms. With his quiet determination, he forced himself to move past the remembering, knowing that, as with all his dreams, this one too would fade all too soon.
His dream was fading all too soon, but when Darcy regained full wakefulness, he had no regrets-for reality had suddenly become better than any dream.
His man was ready for him this morning, and he was dressed and off to the stables in what felt like record time.
"Where shall we ride to today, Stallion?" he asked with uncharacteristic cheer.
Stallion tossed his head as if to say, "You don't fool me, old friend. You know exactly where you are going."
And off they rode, to a grove not far from Longbourn, where the water and the company were sweet in increasing measure.
They arrived, however, to find the water unchanged and the company entirely lacking. After what seemed like ages, a disappointed Darcy finally addressed his trusty steed, "You were not the companion I had in mind for this rendezvous!"
"Am I not? Then why, Sir, did you go through the trouble of asking my father if you could court me? Companionship seems to be one of the primary benefits of such an arrangement. Stallion, at least, seems happy to see me." Elizabeth reached out to stroke his beautiful nose, intuitively scratching all his favourite spots.
"Yes, but you are greeting him with more affection than you ever have me. You never scratch all my favourite spots."
"Mr. Darcy! Such cheek. At this rate of improvement in your teasing skills, I think you will best me within the week. And then what will you need me for?" She said this saucily, but when her eyes met his, she felt that she might have taken this banter further than she had intended. The look in his eyes spoke volumes of what he needed her for, and she looked away, unable to stand the intensity of his gaze. The newness and wonder and vulnerability of it all made her pause.
He too was at a loss for words. She was so beautiful and fresh and innocent. Her wisdom and her wit sometimes made him forget that she had not lived in the world as he had, that she was several years his junior. He swallowed his teasing rejoinder, instead opting for simply saying,
"Elizabeth."
"Fitzwilliam," was her simple reply. But still she had not looked up.
"Will you not look at me?"
"It is all too much."
"Too much or so much?"
"Now you are splitting hairs," she laughed, finally looking at him, most of her blush gone and her eyes twinkling.
"Not at all. 'Too much' implies a negative, 'so much' a pleasant overabundance. It is a question of semantics, indeed, but I have always thought that since 'semantics' means meaning, that there are few questions more significant. Such hair-splitting is not simply wordplay, it is meaning-discovery."
"Do you intend to dissect all my words so precisely?"
"Yes."
Elizabeth laughed at the mock-gravity of his response; his smile was too broad and his eyes too bright for her to take him completely seriously. She did, however, value the deeper promise held therein. That he would value what she said. That if she spoke rashly or wrongly, he would try to discover her true intent before jumping to conclusions. She knew that she could not offer him the same. Jumping to conclusions was part and parcel of her quick wit, and though she had recently learnt to regret it, she had not yet learnt to curb it.
"I wish I could offer you the same. Sometimes I will misunderstand you and sometimes I will just pretend to. My words are broader brush-strokes than yours, I'm afraid. I sometimes paint outside the lines."
"And I will sometimes be too precise, too miserly. We are, neither one of us, perfect. Our rocky acquaintance has proved at least that. But you still haven't answered my question. Is it all too much? Are you unhappy?"
"Unhappy? No. Confused, elated, scared, wishing we had more time just to talk, wishing other things. But unhappy? No."
"That's the Elizabeth I love!"
The silence was profound.
In contrast with their talk of his measured, careful use of language, this unmeasured, mostly unintended outburst had shocked them both. The previous morning they had spoken of "not disliking" and of "not disapproving", of "wooing" and of "courtship". They had not spoken of love. It was too soon; far too soon, and they both knew it. But Darcy could not in all honesty take it back.
It was with a very boyish shrug that he broke the ice, offering his arm as they strolled by the brook. And when they finally spoke, it was of every day things until Elizabeth was calm; Darcy, less chagrined. Darcy was able to share more about his sister and his desire to bring her back to Netherfield for Twelfth Night if the neighbourhood had rid itself of Wickham's odious presence by then. Elizabeth was able to share her joy that the Gardiners were coming for Christmas, wondering if he would need to leave before their expected arrival.
All this while, the sun was rising steadily in the sky and the couple had clearly forgotten that their status as "courting" would have everyone on increased alertness about Elizabeth's whereabouts.
And so it was that Mr. Collins and his intended, along with Kitty to chaperone them, had been sent out to wander Lizzy's favourite lanes in hopes of finding her before the neighbours did. For all Mrs. Bennet's hopes of having three daughters soon married, one forced marriage-however happy the couple-was more than enough to suit her conventional tastes.
Fortunately, Lizzy and Mr. Darcy were merely walking and talking, her hand on his arm, and so the whole group was saved from any significant degree of awkwardness.
After some perfunctory exclamations about the amazing coincidence of them all happening to arrive at the same stream at the same early hour, Kitty pulled Lizzy aside and whispered, "Mama was hoping that Mr. Darcy would join Mr. Bingley in paying an early call, joining us for breakfast. We have calls to pay during more conventional hours for visits."
"I see. What a very kind invitation. Why do you not turn back with Mary and Mr. Collins while I convey it to Mr. Darcy?"
Kitty blushed but nodded, giving Mr. Darcy a tentative smile before turning to follow the other couple back home.
"I am thankful that Mr. Collins' own recent mishaps prevented him from lecturing us about the dangers of loss of reputation," Lizzy laughed.
Darcy agreed but added in a more serious vein, "He would have been correct, though. Probably long-winded, but definitely correct. If we are seen to be making intentional assignations, there will be talk. I am sorry to have placed you in such jeopardy."
"I placed myself here, Sir, as you well know. You did not ask me to come; we did not precisely collude. We just ... hoped. Twice, in my case."
"And mine."
With an almost audible sigh, Lizzy added, "You are probably wise. Meryton is a very small town, and the Bennet girls make great fodder for conversation."
"If only your sister Jane would fall ill again, so you could be trapped at Netherfield."
"Mr. Darcy, what a thing to tease about! Poor Jane."
"I was only half-teasing. It will be difficult not to have these times to talk."
"Perhaps I can enlist Jane and Charles to chaperone us, and we can return the favour. I have the feeling that none of us shall be very attentive to our duties."
As Darcy bowed in parting, he said, "You have the best ideas, Miss Bennet," and bestowed upon her hand a lingering kiss. Then he mounted Stallion and was away before she was able to muster the presence of mind to reply,
"So do you, Mr. Darcy. So do you.
Chapter Sixteen
"So must you, Mr. Darcy. So must you!" Mrs. Bennet was quite concerned at the sparse amount Mr. Darcy had taken at the sideboard, and when Mr. Collins helped himself to a second helping of breakfast, she was quite determined that Mr. Darcy would acquit himself better the second time around. She had taken care that there would be an abundance of choices, yet he had seemed almost unaware.
"I thank you, Madam, but I am quite satisfied." Avoiding a lingering glance at Elizabeth was beyond his power, and the look that the two shared calmed Mrs. Bennet's nerves considerably.
Lydia bounded into the room, the last one up as usual, with a surprising but not unpleasant piece of news---she had just seen Mr. Henry Bingley riding up the lane.
Hill announced the gentleman, and he was warmly invited to join their repast.
"Thank you for your kind offer, Mrs. Bennet, but I cannot tarry. If I am to reach Kympton in time to conduct Advent services on Sunday, I must away at once. I took the liberty of stopping to say farewell to my brother and to all of you on my way to Derbyshire."
Before Mr. Bingley or anyone else could inquire as to the change in plans, Kitty Bennet surprised herself and everyone else by saying, "I hope there is nothing wrong, Mr. Bingley. You seem...agitated." Realising that her outburst might be looked upon as impertinent---especially commenting about his behaviour, Kitty blushed and fell silent. It was really not her place to be comforting or questioning Mr. Bingley when his brother and his friend were both at hand.
"You are very astute, Miss Kitty. I am not quite myself this morning. I received an early express that my curate has taken ill, quite ill I believe, and I am heading back to see him as well as to perform my duties. He is a good man and a good friend."
"As are you, Henry. You will be missed." Free of the weight of competition over Elizabeth, Darcy was once again reminded that his choice of cleric was more than just career advancement for a friend's brother or a godfather's favourite. It was a sacred trust, one that he was certain he had carried out well in preferring Henry Bingley. He really would miss him as a friend in his own right and not just Charles' brother.
Mr. Darcy's sentiments were echoed by all, and after Henry's refusal of a second offer of breakfast, citing a stuffed saddlebag and a long journey, Charles Bingley got up to see his brother on his way.
"I must thank you all for the warm welcome I have received in Hertfordshire. I am especially grateful to the young ladies who rescued me from near death, or at least utter humiliation, when I got lost yesterday," Henry said with a smile and nod toward Kitty and Lydia.
"You must return to us soon, Mr. Bingley." Mrs. Bennet checked herself before mentioning her hope that he would be present for Jane's marriage to his brother. It would not do to look presumptuous when things were coming along so nicely.
"I really cannot say. I had hoped to return to Netherfield sometime after Twelfth Night, but that was before all of this. I really must be off. Good-bye to you all." And with a bow he was gone, Charles following behind, trying to convince him to use the carriage.
Conversations began again and soon everyone was talking in earnest about Mr. Henry Bingley and his abrupt departure. Mr. Collins wondered to Mary how he would write his sermon in so short a time---and without any books available on the road. Jane and Elizabeth expressed their concern for the curate, inquiring civilly about the man to Mr. Darcy, who knew a bit about him. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia discussed if Henry would make it to his destination without a hearty breakfast, getting rather carried away in fantasies of him fainting off his horse in hunger or being set upon by highwaymen.
Mr. Bennet said nothing, observing his fourth daughter carefully. The recently blushing Kitty was now quite subdued, picking a bit at her breakfast but not joining in with the group to which she most naturally belonged---tales of fainting and highwaymen did not seem to cheer her as they might have just days ago.
The possibility of Kitty Bennet becoming attached to a serious-minded cleric from the North almost made Thomas Bennet laugh out loud. This whole week had been nearly farcical---two courtships and an engagement---but this was beyond anything. Had something tainted the Longbourn well?
Deciding he should get to know "Lydia's shadow" a bit better in the light of the sun, he asked Kitty, "Would you humour an old man and take a turn with me in the garden, Child?"
"Me? Are you sure you do not have me confused with Lizzy?" Kitty questioned her father in all earnestness, as this was the first time she could remember such a request directed at her.
"I am not in my dotage yet, Catherine. I can certainly tell you from Elizabeth. Somehow I think I am not the one with whom Lizzy will be walking in the garden today."
"Yes, Papa. But I must put on something warmer. Shall we meet at the door in ten minutes? Oh! I will not be able to walk long as Mama has many calls for us to make today." Kitty's face fell a bit at this recollection. Calling on all the families in the neighbourhood with her three newly attached sisters was not her idea of a day well spent.
"I think she can spare you today, Kitty. I shall tell her that I have excused you from calling in order to keep me company. Run along and bundle up."
The pair walked through the park in companionable silence for quite some time. Mr. Bennet could hardly believe Kitty could be quiet for so many minutes together---was she not always chattering? Could Lydia possibly make that entire racket by herself?
"Was there something in particular you wanted to ask me, Papa?"
"Are you always this quiet?"
"That is what you wanted to ask me?"
"No, I am increasingly curious, though."
"Not always. But with Lydia being so...Lydia, and Lizzy being so witty and clever, and Mary being so preachy---Jane and I do more of the listening, I suppose. I am not usually quite this quiet, though."
"Perhaps the better question would have been, ‘why are you so quiet now?'"
"I am not certain. I feel...odd, really. After I told you yesterday that I thought Henry Bingley could never prefer me, I started thinking, ‘what if he did?' and now, just as suddenly, he is gone, and I am back to thinking ‘he never will'."
"Would you want him to prefer you? He doesn't cut the dashing figure of the young men you seem to have preferred recently."
"I know that. And I hardly know him, but..."
"But...?"
"But I would like to know more."
"I would like to know more."
"More about what, Kitty?"
"More about many things, Lizzy. This morning I was particularly thinking of Advent."
Shocked at the uncharacteristic comment, Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, looking at her younger sister carefully before asking, "What would you like to know?"
"Well, I know that we use it as sort of a period to mark off the days until Christmas, and I am sure I must have heard any number of sermons on it. But, recently, I have heard it spoken of as a very special time. It seemed, somehow, more important than I have found it, and I decided I would like to know more about it."
"Yes, with our surfeit of clerics, I imagine it has come up more than usual," Lizzy teased, sensing it was not Mr. Collins who had inspired these reflections.
And so, as Kitty accompanied Lizzy on her customary morning ramble, the sisters embarked on a conversation unlike any they had ever had. After they had canvassed the church calendar from Advent through the Feast of the Three Kings, Kitty burst out, "Oh, I hope Mr. Bingley found an inn last night. I hate to think of him riding alone so long. What if he got lost and spent the night alone in the dark? He does not seem to have a very good sense of direction."
"Yes, and he will not have you there to find him!" teased Elizabeth.
"I am serious, Lizzy! I know Lydia is often a bit...dramatic, but bad things do happen."
"He is a grown man, Kitty, and I daresay has made long journeys before. He was not taking a ride for leisure over unfamiliar country hillsides, but following well-travelled roads---at least until he is back in familiar country. Besides, he is also a very level-headed fellow and will neither faint nor be beset by highwaymen if he can at all help it."
Kitty smiled at this jest, but she could not be quite so sanguine.
"Mr. Bingley is more than just the brother of Jane's suitor to you, is he not?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"You must admit you have never been overly interested in matters religious before."
"I suppose not. I barely know the man. One dance and a few conversations are not much on which to base..."
"An attachment?"
Kitty blushed. "That may be too strong a word, but I do not know if there is a word for the muddle I am feeling. It is simply that every time my mind is not engaged elsewhere, it drifts toward him. Could someone like him ever...like someone like me?"
"I am quite sure he likes you already, Kitty."
"You know what I am trying to say."
"I know, but I just do not know him well enough to answer you truthfully. He is older than you and has seen more of the world, but he does not seem to put too much stock in the kind of pretentious elegance exhibited by..."
"His sisters?" Kitty supplied, with a mischievous twinkle.
"Kitty!"
"Do not tell me that is not what you were thinking!"
Laughing harder than the small jest warranted, the sisters first became aware that they were not alone when a voice from behind them said, very close and rather low, "And just what were you thinking, Miss Bennet?"
Lizzy started. Kitty yelped. Mr. Bingley laughed.
But Mr. Darcy, the cause of it all, smiled, saying, "I am sorry to have startled you, Ladies."
"I do not believe you are sorry at all, Mr. Darcy. I believe that you achieved exactly the response you desired!" Elizabeth tried to look severe, but her eyes shone as she gazed upon the man she had been missing for nearly a day.
"Not exactly. I thought you might yelp, too."
"I never ‘yelp'," said Elizabeth, who could hardly believe this playful banter was coming from the ever-so-proper Mr. Darcy.
"That almost sounds like a challenge, Miss Elizabeth."
"Sounds more like a dare, Darcy." Mr. Bingley was obviously enjoying this far too much.
"I do not make dares. Nor do I take them."
"Not since you fell off the roof of the chicken coop, Lizzy!"
"Kitty! See if I take you as a chap...er...companion on any future walks. You cannot be trusted with highly confidential information."
"I hope you were not hurt," added Mr. Darcy. "Have you fully recovered?"
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Darcy. It was thirteen years ago or more. I have fully recovered. All but my dignity, it seems," laughed Lizzy as she and Mr. Darcy walked on ahead, less and less mindful of their minders.
"Have you heard from your brother, Mr. Bingley?" Kitty inquired.
"What? Oh. No, it is far too soon to receive news. He will not send an express; he's far too frugal for that. However, I am certain he is well on his way to Kympton, plotting his sermon all the way home. And praying for his curate, of course. And singing Christmas hymns at the top of his lungs, no doubt."
"Really? I cannot claim to know him very well, but I had no idea that he favoured outbursts of song. You make him sound half holy man and half playful boy." Kitty hoped to encourage Mr. Charles Bingley to continue painting this picture of Mr. Henry.
"I know him better than just about anyone, I would guess. We've always had that connection, as twins. And folks have often categorized us: ‘Happy-go-lucky Charles and Ever-so-serious Henry.' The truth is more complex than that, but people find it easier to think of us that way, I suppose. If the truth be known, Henry can make me laugh harder than anyone ever has. He takes his duties seriously, but not himself. He is a preacher, but he is not preachy. Does that make sense?"
"Yes! I can see that. You must miss having him around all the time. I know I shall miss all of my sisters when they no longer live at Longbourn." Kitty, lost in thoughts of her audience's twin, did not notice the blush that spread over his countenance at this unintended allusion to a possible marriage between him and Jane.
"Perhaps they will not all go so very far away," Mr. Bingley dared to add.
Kitty, realising her presumptuous statement, blushed as well but added, "No, perhaps not, but I think it will be sooner rather than later." Jane and Bingley were not the only courting couple of which this could be said: at that very moment on the path ahead of them, Mr. Darcy brushed a stray curl off Elizabeth's smiling face.
"Speaking of Miss Bennet, how is she this morning?" Bingley had been led to believe that Jane would be the "one of Miss Elizabeth's sisters" who would be accompanying her. Talking to Miss Kitty, especially of such pleasant subjects, was no hardship, but he was eager to see Jane after being denied her presence due to calls and separate evening engagements.
"She was sleeping when we left. Lizzy thought of waking her, but decided against it because..."
"Because?"
"I am sorry. I should not have said anything. It is quite the family secret."
"You will not tell me?"
"I do not think I should. Let us talk of other things."
"Is there anything the matter with her? She is not ill?"
"No, no, nothing like that."
"Please, Miss Kitty, I must know. You cannot leave me wondering what this horrible secret is. It will torment me."
Kitty felt horrible for building up such unreasonable fears and decided that telling would cause Jane less harm than not telling. "It is not so very horrible. And, it is not guaranteed, is it, that you will ever be affected by it?"
"Is it something that would affect me if we were to marry?"
"Yes. But you are only courting."
"Miss Kitty, I offer you a trade: your secret for one of my own. My secret is that I wish I had never asked to court your sister---I wish I had just asked her to marry me." Mr. Bingley's eyes danced as he shared his not-so-secret secret.
"Oh! Then in all fairness, I suppose you have every right to know. Though I feel very disloyal sharing it."
"Come now, I shared mine."
"Very well. Jane is exactly as she appears---the dearest, sweetest creature in the world---after her first cup of tea and about half of an hour to adjust to the day. Before that, she is something of a...bear." Kitty giggled. Bingley boggled.
"A bear? Jane? I mean, Miss Bennet? You are teasing me! She could never be a bear. It is unfathomable."
"By all means, disbelieve me. But do not say you were not forewarned. It is not as bad as all that, really. Are you a morning person, Mr. Bingley?"
"I cannot say that I am, normally, unless I have the right incentive."
"Well, I am sorry you were deprived of your incentive, but I am ever so happy to hear that you want to propose to Jane. I am not very surprised, really. I think you two are very well suited. Now, I will promise to keep your secret until you tell it yourself. And you must promise to keep my secret, even if and when you find it out for yourself!"
"You have my word. But, I still think you are sporting with me."
Chapter Seventeen
"Are you sporting with me, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth was still shocked that Mr. Darcy had asked to court her, but she found their teasing interactions of late almost more surprising. This afternoon walk at Netherfield, for example, had been filled with light conversation about plays and books as well as the occasional comment from Mr. Darcy that bordered on the flirtatious. She wondered if it was only the company of Mary, Kitty, Jane and Mr. Bingley that precluded even more personal communication.
"Indeed I am, Miss Elizabeth." Laughing, he said, "Must you look so shocked when I tease you? One might begin to suspect that you had previously believed I lacked any sense of humour whatsoever."
"Mr. Darcy, in situations such as this, a good memory is unpardonable. I prefer to think of the past only as its remembrance gives me pleasure, and I advise you to do the same." Elizabeth laughed at his look of chagrin, but took pity on him, adding, "My opinions on the subject of one Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy have undergone quite a sea change, it is true, but I am certain that my current opinion will be of much longer duration."
"I hope not!"
"Do you hope my uncharitable feelings return, then?"
"Of course not. Now who is teasing whom? I only meant that I hope your feelings continue to improve. It is my sincere hope, in fact, that one day you will be able to feel for me even a portion of what I feel for you." Darcy's serious mien was back in place, as it was whenever he felt exposed or uncomfortable, but his eyes were soft as he glanced at her.
Thankfully, Elizabeth was wise enough to sense that the time for levity had ended. In truth, she did not understand the depth of Mr. Darcy's feelings, nor could she honestly say that she yet understood the depth of her own. So, she simply replied, in a more subdued tone than he was used to hearing from her, "I would not have accepted your suit if I did not believe there was every chance of that, Fitzwilliam."
Hearing this caused him to hope as not even her acceptance of his courtship had. Something in her tone of voice when she spoke his name gave him the reassurance he had been asking for---that although he was coming to feel even more deeply for her, it was not alone or in vain. Bingley's impatience suddenly did not seem quite so humorous to him, but he, at least, was not prepared to rush this most important of seasons.
The walking party began to regroup as they headed back to Netherfield to dine. Kitty and Mary were speaking of wedding plans. As the rest of the party was not disinterested in the topic, they all spent a lively quarter hour discussing the Bennet-Collins wedding and, perhaps, imagining other brides and grooms who might someday be so blessed.
Mary had bid Mr. Collins a rather emotional, for Mary at least, good-bye after breakfast this morning. He had returned to Hunsford to tell Lady Catherine of his good fortune in securing just the type of wife of whom she would approve and to take Sunday services for a couple of weeks until it was time to return to Longbourn for the blessed event. Although their relationship had begun rather precipitously, it was not without its genuine attractions on both sides. Mr. Collins was used to being told what to do, and Mary liked to tell him. Mr. Collins liked to hear his own voice, and Mary was not averse to hearing it. And, perhaps most surprisingly, Mr. Collins admired Mary's rather substantial frame, and Mary liked feeling almost dainty next to such a strapping youth.
The current discussion of her wedding had cheered Mary's spirits considerably, not the least because she was so unused to having precedence in even the smallest matter in the crowded Bennet house. Kitty was happy to get her mind off of the confusing Henry Bingley and enjoyed being the resident expert in lace and bonnets, without Lydia there to vex and contradict her.
For poor Charles Bingley, however, talk of the impending wedding neither cheered nor distracted him. Instead it inspired him to greater flights of fancy. Twelfth Night, just over a month hence, now seemed an eternity away. Once a man had made up his mind, what reason was there for such a delay? He could not stop such thoughts from flooding him as Jane made the occasional---charming and entirely pertinent---contribution to the conversation. She was the eldest! The most beautiful Bennet sister and certainly the most ready to be mistress of a home. She should marry first. Why did I bother with this silly notion of courtship? The only thing that held him back from asking for her hand right now, aside from the presence of so many, was the fact that even Henry, who could always be counted on for his good judgement, had thought it would seem unsteady to ask so soon after asking for permission to court.
His last thought as he parted from Jane so she could freshen up for dinner was: at least I have a month to ensure that she is shown the honour and deference due her as Netherfield's future mistress. The only problem being, of course, that Netherfield's current mistress, Caroline, would like such a scheme not at all.
Netherfield's current mistress liked such a scheme not at all. Dinner with the entire Bennet family on the Saturday after the ball was too many, too soon, and above all too vulgar for her tastes.
Yet here she sat, presiding over the table, smiling insincerely to all and making conversation with Mr. Bennet of all people. Louisa had convinced her that she could not seat Darcy next to herself in light of his recent declaration to Eliza Bennet. As Caroline refused to sit next to Brother Hurst, the dullard, there were no men left to place at her side but the unusual Mr. Bennet. Too many women in the family by half. By well more than half! And as odious as Mr. Collins had been, at least he provided another male for the table. Oh well, what cannot be helped must be endured. Such profound thoughts were interrupted by her dinner partner.
"I understand from your brother that your family was formerly active in the shipping trade. That must have been fascinating. I have always loved ships, ever since I was a boy. If I had been a younger brother, I imagine I would have joined the Navy." Mr. Bennet didn't wonder long if he had hit his mark, as his companion paled visibly.
"Indeed?" Caroline was beginning to wish she had seated Mr. Hurst next to herself after all.
At the other end of the table, the occupants were more agreeably engaged. Charles had been coaxed by Elizabeth to tell what it was like to be a twin, and he was regaling them all with tales of from the Bingley nursery. It seemed that Charles had been quite willing to enact the mischief thought up by his more creative but less daring younger brother---and quite unhappy to be alone in receiving punishments for said mischief.
Such stories delighted all within earshot. Kitty was thankful to be sitting next to Mr. Hurst, who seemed disinclined for much conversation, so that she could hear a great deal of what was said. The picture Mr. Bingley painted of his brother did not exactly jibe with her image of him, but it caused her to wonder if perhaps some of those little boy qualities still resided in the heart of the more serious man. And if she hoped, just a little, that this be the case, no one else need be the wiser.
Kitty was snapped out of her reverie by Lydia addressing her loudly from across the table. Lydia wanted to know if Kitty thought the officers would be at church tomorrow and would not be satisfied until the topic of men in red coats had been thoroughly canvassed. Kitty obliged her and by the time she was able to turn her attention back to the far end of the table, it seemed that the conversation had moved on to Mr. Darcy's childhood, a topic that held relatively little importance to Kitty. To another of the sisters, the subject was of greater interest.
Elizabeth found the change in the conversation delightful. It was rare to hear the reticent Mr. Darcy speak so warmly in such a public setting, and she enjoyed the novelty as well as the information. The topic of Georgiana, her person and her accomplishments, was a favourite one, and the picture he painted was a charming one.
"I hope to introduce her to all of you before too long," Darcy added, smiling at the thought of introducing Georgiana to Elizabeth.
"That's right! You talked of bringing her from London after your holidays there. For Twelfth Night, was it not? Have you decided on it, then?" Bingley was thinking more of the inanimate object Darcy had promised to bring back from London, but it would be impolitic to mention the ring now.
"Twelfth Night! But then you will miss the wedding, Mr. Darcy. Do you not intend to come to the wedding? You must!" Mrs. Bennet was eager to keep Mr. Darcy in Meryton as much as possible. Others believed that absence made the heart grow fonder, but Mrs. Bennet subscribed far more to the theory that out-of-sight meant out-of-mind. "And you must bring Miss Darcy, too!" These effusions were heard with consternation by Elizabeth, but there was nothing for it---Mr. Darcy would have to become accustomed to her mother if this courtship were to mature into anything...more lasting.
"I thank you for that kind invitation, Mrs. Bennet. There are complexities of schedule and circumstance that might not make that possible, but I will do my best to be there. Georgiana, I fear, would find a wedding breakfast to be a bit overwhelming as she is not yet out."
"Not yet out?" Mrs. Bennet was certain she had misheard. "Is she not sixteen?"
"Nearly so. She will be sixteen at the turning of the year." Mr. Darcy looked at Mrs. Bennet in the eye and said firmly, "And she is not yet out."
"Yes. Well. I see." Her disapproval of such mean treatment of a girl who was obviously eager to be out in the world, for what girl was not, warred with her deference towards Mr. Darcy. The deference won out when she recollected that if Miss Darcy were not out, she could not compete with her remaining two daughters for any of the officers. "I am sure you know best, Mr. Darcy," she added, with only a bit of tartness left in her voice.
"Whenever you are able to bring her, Mr. Darcy, we shall all be glad to make her acquaintance," added Jane, the peacemaker, smiling her reassurance to Lizzy that all would be well and having no idea that her grace under pressure was making Charles Bingley more in love with her than ever. Jane had a way of smoothing out his gaffes that he found very soothing and quite irresistible.
After dinner, Mr. Darcy approached Mr. Bennet as Mr. Bingley served the port.
"Sir, it occurs to me that your carriage, though large, may not be quite comfortable for your entire family."
"Indeed? I have never found it to be overly crowded." Mr. Bennet could not help twitting the serious Mr. Darcy just a little.
"I did not mean to imply..." Darcy had thought his plan for he and Charles to escort the elder Bennet daughters home a masterful one, but had not counted on offending Mr. Bennet's pride.
"Imply?"
"I am sorry, Sir; please disregard my comment."
Mr. Bennet could not keep up his affronted countenance for long.
"Darcy! You are not going to be dissuaded from your goal so easily, are you? You will need a good deal more fortitude and perseverance than that to deal with my Lizzy!"
As much as he did not enjoy being the object of such sport, Mr. Darcy was relieved that he had not insulted Elizabeth's father after all. Permission for him and Bingley to escort the eldest Misses Bennet home after a not-too-late supper was soon secured. Mr. Bennet could not imagine too much mischief occurring under the watchful eye of Bingley's shrewish sister.
The watchful eye of Bingley's shrewish sister had gone to bed early along with its mistress, who had a jealousy-induced headache.
The watchful eye of Bingley's shallow sister had gone to bed early along with its mistress, who had a wine-soaked husband.
And so it happened that the two courting couples were able to talk and laugh, and later sup, quite without the watchful eye of anyone other than themselves, the Bennet family having gone home rather soon after Mrs. Bennet realised that her daughters would be able to stay and make an impression on their young men.
Elizabeth was coaxed into playing the piano on the condition that Mr. Darcy would turn pages. He was more than happy to oblige though he had been unable to promise diligence in his task if Elizabeth continued looking at him in that way.
"How, pray tell, am I looking at you, Sir?" she inquired, looking at him again.
"Elizabeth," he said, his voice but a susurration on her neck as he leaned closer, "you know very well how you are looking at me, and you cannot expect me to turn pages while you do so. It requires at least a modicum of concentration."
"And, you, Fitzwilliam," she said, equally softly, "know very well that speaking in that manner is even more distracting. Not to mention the fact that playing takes more than a modicum of concentration."
"In what manner?" he asked, sitting up straighter.
"You know very well in what manner. Do it again?"
She shivered and laughed as he leant closer, whispering, "Do what again?"
Jane and Charles did not have the excuse of music, but they were managing to skirt impropriety just fine on their own on a settee across the room, completely oblivious to the machinations taking place on the bench of Netherfield's fine pianoforte.
Some time later, however, a servant came in to inform Mr. Bingley that the informal supper had been laid out in the breakfast room per his request. Jane and Mr. Darcy seemed more than a bit embarrassed to be caught in such unguarded closeness by a servant, but Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth, with their more sanguine tempers, chivvied them out of their reticence and they all had a happy---but all too short---supper together, followed by a cosy carriage ride back to Longbourne before Mr. Bennet had a chance to regret his decision.
The weeks that followed were filled with morning walks, dinners taken at one house or the other, evenings with the neighbours and the occasional semi-private supper or carriage ride. Far too soon, however, it was time for Mr. Darcy to depart for London and Christmas with his sister.
Chapter Eighteen
After Mr. Darcy departed for London and Christmas with his sister, the hustle and bustle of preparing for both the holiday season and the early January wedding of Mary to Mr. Collins began in earnest. Mrs. Bennet had her girls in a frenzy of decoration making, gown trimming, and trousseau selecting that in former times might have driven all but Lydia daft.
Lizzy, Mary and Kitty, however, were thankful for such occupation. With the men most interesting to them having decamped to London, Kent and Derbyshire, it managed to keep them busy while leaving their minds free to ponder the past several weeks' whirlwind of activities and emotions.
Jane, torn between helping and spending time with Charles, was often shooed out of the house by her mother. She had, after all, not fully secured him and Mrs. Bennet thought that Jane ought to be given every opportunity to do so. After one such outing Jane happened to mention that Charles had finally received a letter from his brother.
Later that evening, Kitty knocked tentatively on Jane's door.
"May I come in?" Kitty rarely strayed into Jane's domain these days, although there had been a time when bedroom shenanigans among the sisters were not unheard of. Waking Jane up in the morning and then running before she could hit you with a cushion was a favourite of both Kitty and Lydia. It was hard to reconcile the docile Jane of bedtime with the bear of the morning, but thinking of it helped put Kitty at ease, even before Jane responded with a warm, "Of course, Kitty.
"What is on your mind?"
"Earlier you said that Mr. Bingley had received a letter from his brother. This was the first news I...we...have had of him since he left. I asked Mr. Bingley for word that he had arrived safely, but he hadn't heard. He seemed unconcerned but..."
"But you are relieved to hear that all is right with him?" Jane could hardly keep the smile out of her voice and Kitty blushed.
"Yes. Oh, Jane, it is all so strange. He is nothing like the officers I thought were my ideal beaux; nothing like anyone I could ever have imagined myself with. A clergyman no less! But there is something about him that I just cannot get out of my mind. If Lydia suspected my preference, I know she would twit me about it endlessly. You will not tease, Jane?"
"Of course not, Kitty. You show remarkably good taste. I happen to think that Bingley men are rather wonderful myself. Forgive my impertinence, but...do you have any idea of his returning your esteem? I had rather thought his interest lay elsewhere."
"Really? Does it? Is he courting someone else?"
"Kitty, I truly do not know. I was not referring to any definite knowledge. It is only that he seemed quite taken with Lizzy before her courtship was announced. Did you not notice? Perhaps it was all in Mama's mind, but I confess I thought I noticed it as well."
Kitty's silence made Jane uncomfortable.
"I am sorry. I should not have spoken whereof I have no real information. Idle speculation in such matters is most unbecoming. I am sorry, Kitty dear, but I was worried lest you have your feelings hurt and then I hurt them anyway."
Kitty tied and retied the strings on her nightdress, and then seemed to resolve something within herself before looking up at Jane. "If your suspicions are true, were true, then any feelings or attraction he felt for Lizzy were of a very short duration. I am sorry for him if he was wounded in such a way, but it is hard for me to credit it. He seemed in such good spirits at the end of his time in Hertfordshire. And...and I do believe that he enjoys my company at the very least. More than that I cannot say. Not everyone falls in love at first sight like you and Charles."
"Kitty!" Jane laughed. "Admiration at first sight, I will grant you, but not love."
"Of course not," replied Kitty, not believing a word of it. "So, do you have any real news of him, Jane?"
"You are smitten!"
"You promised not to tease."
"I did? I suppose you are right. Then it is probably right that I also stop withholding information."
"Jane Bennet! You are horrid. What information do you have?"
"Only that Mr. Henry Bingley's curate is on the mend and that Mr. Henry Bingley is hoping to return to us sometime around Twelfth Night."
"Really? You are not teasing?"
"You have my word." Jane looked at her sister with new eyes. Kitty, it seemed, was coming out of Lydia's shadow and developing interests and feelings that, while quite foreign, suited her very well.
Some of the insecure Kitty was on display in the very next minute when she asked tentatively, "Jane, do you think a man who has been enchanted by a Lizzy Bennet could ever settle for a mere Kitty?"
Jane hugged her little sister fiercely. Perhaps it was not only Lydia's shadow that Kitty was struggling to emerge from.
"You are not merely Kitty. You are Kitty Bennet and a charming girl...woman in your own right. If he is the right man for you, then any fleeting attraction he felt for anyone else, even Lizzy, will flee that much faster when you are around. Perhaps it is best to wait until he is around to gage his interest."
Kitty blushed and looked away.
"I have been hoping to...improve myself in his absence. Is that foolish of me?"
"I believe that God wants us to take every opportunity of improving our minds and our characters. So, such a task could never be foolish. However, if you are trying to change yourself into what you think Henry or anyone else wants you to be, that sounds like a receipt for an unhappy life. The bard said, ‘To thine own self be true,' and I think the idea has merit."
"Shakespeare said that? In which play?"
"Hamlet, I believe, though you really should ask Father or Lizzy. They are the true scholars."
"Well, maybe I shall just read Hamlet for myself and see if I can find it." Kitty smiled at Jane's look of shock.
"I love you, Kitty. I hope that one day you will be courted by someone as wonderful as Charles. And I think Henry fits the bill!"
And so this serious talk between sisters ended with giggles and hugs and more conversation into the wee hours of the morning.
It was nearly the wee hours of the morning still on the last day of December when Lizzy could no longer stand her weather- and mother-enforced imprisonment at Longbourn. It had been too long since she enjoyed the freedom of one of her morning walks, and she was determined to escape the confines of the house and the duties of sister of the bride for an hour or two.
As she walked by her favourite brook, even dearer now as the setting of her first friendly encounters with Fitzwilliam, she could not help but indulge in a bit of self-pity.
Mary would be married in less than a week, and Mr. Collins was already here, nearly bursting with pride at the approval he had received from Her Ladyship. As happy as Lizzy was that Mary seemed to genuinely care for and be cared for by Mr. Collins, the sight of them so constantly cosy together was beginning to wear thin.
Jane too was happy and a bit oblivious in her partnered state. Mr. Bingley was a frequent visitor to Longbourn. So frequent, in fact, that he may as well have taken up residence. The way his eyes had sparkled as he hosted Christmas feast for all the Longbourn party had been touching. Truly, Lizzy could not be happier that a proposal for Jane seemed just around the corner. It was just that all this bliss had seemed so much more blissful when Fitzwilliam had been by her side.
She also had no idea if or when she could expect a proposal of her own. The weeks before their parting had been redolent with emotion, conversation and mutual appreciation. Elizabeth was shocked, in fact, at how completely her feelings for the forbidding Mr. Darcy had changed---how quickly she had yielded her heart to this sometimes difficult-to-interpret man.
She longed for his return in a way that surprised and vexed her.
"I am a pitiful creature indeed!" she scolded herself in a loud, firm tone.
"I would say beautiful rather than pitiful."
"Mr. Darcy!"
"Have you forgotten my name so quickly?" Mr. Darcy started to tease when he was nearly knocked into the brook by the hug Elizabeth gave him.
"Miss Bennet!"
"Have you forgotten my name so quickly?" asked Lizzy, teasing him to cover her embarrassment at the boldness of such a gesture.
"Of course not, Elizabeth. That was quite a greeting!"
"I apologize, Fitzwilliam..."
"I assure you that I was surprised but not at all offended. Your natural affection is...natural, I suppose. An extension of your vivacity. And, might I add, that it is very apropos to the setting in which we find ourselves."
"In nature?"
"Alone."
And as Fitzwilliam encircled her deliberately in his arms, Elizabeth forgot to feel even a drop of self-pity.