Her Own Insignificance Chapter 4-5

Chapter 4

Mr Darcy turned and returned inside when he could no longer make out the Gardiner carriage. It was time for him to right some wrongs. The others were still waiting in the parlour. As soon as Mr Darcy returned, the Hurst's declared that they would retire, with Mr Hurst declaring “that's been one of the more entertaining nights I've had for awhile.”

Before Caroline could say too much, Mr Darcy invited Mr Bingley to play pool. With a kiss goodnight for his little sister he led an effusive Mr Bingley to the pool room. Mr Darcy commented on his good mood.

“I don't think I've enjoyed a dinner so much for months.” Mr Bingley bent over the pool table and lined up his cue on the white ball. He hit the ball which shot straight and broke the triangle of balls at the other end of the table, scattering the balls and sending one into a pocket. “You seem to be on considerably better terms with Miss Elizabeth than the last time I saw you. Do you have an agreement with her?” He took his next shot but missed.

“I have an agreement to court her, though she wants it done privately, mostly so her mother doesn't find out. So... if you can keep that to yourself,” Mr Darcy said looking up from his shot, before turning his attention back to the cue but missing his ball.

“Caroline will be disappointed. Though I think anyone with a pair of eyes could see there is something going on between the two of you. I must admit that I was surprised; in Hertfordshire I always got the impression that she didn't like you at all,” said Bingley as he studied the table.

“Was I the only one completely unaware that she didn't like me?”

Bingley smiled in return, took his shot and sank another ball in a corner pocket. “I take it the two of you resolved your differences whilst you were at Rosings?”

Mr Darcy’s bark of laughter caused Mr Bingley to miss his next one. “I got to know her better, but not her feelings. I proposed to her at Rosings and she none too gently refused me.” Mr Darcy took his shot but missed the pocket again. “As has been made abundantly clear to me, I am not qualified to judge the feelings of ladies at all.” As Bingley went to make his next shot, Mr Darcy continued. “I shouldn't have advised you the way I did with Jane Bennet. I’m sorry.” Now it was Mr Bingley’s turn to miserably miss the ball.

Mr Bingley turned to Mr Darcy. “Do you mean to say that you think you were wrong in your assessment? Did Miss Elizabeth say something to you?”

Mr Darcy studied the table. “I believe she made it clear she would never accept a man who had been the means of ruining the happiness of a most beloved sister.” Mr Darcy took his shot and missed again, too distracted to really try aiming properly.

“So she did love me. I knew it.” Mr Bingley stared at the pool table without really seeing it, and half heartedly hit at a ball, missing the pocket. “What must she think of me? She must have suffered just like I have for all this time.” Mr Bingley turned a suspicious eye towards Mr Darcy. “Are you telling me this now only so you can remove an impediment with Miss Elizabeth?”

“No.” Mr Darcy stepped forward and finally sunk his first ball in a hole. “I still would have told you, even if I hadn't met with Elizabeth here. Honour demands that I admit my mistake. But that is not all I have to admit.”

Bingley missed his next shot, the ball bouncing on either edge of the corner pocket before stopping in front of the pocket. “What else is there?”

“You are now aware that Miss Bennet was in London over the winter?”

“Yes, I heard Miss Elizabeth and her aunt talking of it.”

“I knew that she was in London. Caroline told me that Miss Bennet had visited her. I’m sorry for keeping it from you, it was beneath me.”

“I asked Caroline and she said she had received no correspondence from Miss Bennet.” Mr Darcy looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning his attention to the pool table. Now that Darcy’s conscience was cleared, he shot two balls in a row into pockets, knocking Mr Bingley’s ball out of the way. “I know, she lied to me.”

“Are you angry at me for keeping this information from you? You could have married her by now. Can you forgive me?”

Mr Bingley absent mindedly took a shot with no real concentration, missing the hole. “What you did, even if you are a terrible judge of character, was well-meant. Caroline’s were done for selfish reasons. Also, it wasn't for you to tell me that Caroline had had a guest-Caroline should have told me. And now that I questioned her on it, she should not have lied. What is the point of it? I was surely going to find out!”

Mr Darcy sank another two balls in his turn.

“If she visited, it must mean she cared. If she felt even a shadow of what I feel for her, she must feel so hurt and betrayed. I've wounded her so!” Mr Bingley paused to miss again. “Do you think she still loves me?”

Mr Darcy cleaned up his balls from the table then turned his attention to the eight ball. He barked a laugh at this question. “I've learnt my lesson. What you do is up to you.” Mr Darcy sank the eight, winning the game.

“What would you do?” asked Mr Bingley plaintively.

“All I can say is that I understand how terrible you felt. After Miss Elizabeth rejected me, I’ve been a miserable wretch. However, the moment I saw her here at Pemberley, I vowed that I would give everything to try and secure her and that I would not waste this second chance.” Mr Darcy leaned in his cue. “What is it in your heart that you want to do?”

“I want to return to Netherfield and win her back,” said Mr Bingley. “Thank you Darcy for that advice. I'm going to write an express now to get Netherfield opened up.”

Mr Darcy laughed. “That is all well and good writing a letter, however, I don't think anyone is in that much of a hurry that it can't wait to be sent in the morning.”


Chapter 5

Elizabeth tossed and turned, her mind going over every interaction with Mr Darcy at Pemberley. The feel of his hand, his eyes locked on hers, their conversation. She could imagine being his wife and continuing to have nights like that.

She decided to get up and she walked to the drawing room, and went to sit in the bay window, looking out at the full moon.

“Elizabeth, is that you?” called out her aunt softly, wrapping her dressing gown around her.

“I couldn't sleep.”

Mrs Gardiner came to sit next to her and they both looked out over the empty street below. Elizabeth turned to her aunt. “How do I know if I love him and I'm not just flattered at his attentions?”

“Maybe it is best to compare him to the other men you know to work out what makes him different? Why has Mr Darcy of all people captured your attention so? What do you want and need from a husband?” asked Mrs Gardiner gently.

“Where do I even start?” said Elizabeth with a quiet laugh.

“How about Mr Collins?”

Elizabeth snorted. “He was ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“He was ill informed. He was not as intelligent as I am.” Elizabeth paused. “I sound like Mr Darcy. I remember him saying something about where there was a true superiority of mind, pride was under good regulation.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “What annoyed me most was that Mr Collins believed himself to be superior due to his being male and did not respect my mind. Mr Darcy has shown respect of my opinion and of my mind. In him I see an equal in intelligence. I'll grant that he knows more of the world than I; that is due to his experience from age.”

“You have met other intelligent men. How does Mr Darcy compare to someone like Mr Rawlins? A couple of years ago, your Uncle and I were certain he would offer for you. But then you didn't seem that upset when he had to go to Italy for work.”

“That is so long ago I can barely remember him. I recall he was quite attractive though not as handsome as Mr Darcy. In intelligence and understanding, he probably was Mr Darcy’s equal. We did have many entertaining conversations. I do remember thinking well of him and thinking I could fall in love with him. Maybe if we had had more than two months in each other's company then my regard for him may have grown to love.”

Elizabeth bit her lip as she tried to think back to her interactions with that particular gentleman. She traced the edge of the windowsill with her fingers as she looked outside at the moon, as though seeking answers from the night goddess. “Our conversations were light, as were our debates. We did not touch much on deep topics. Though I believe him to in general be a good man, I did not believe that he was one to go out of his way to do so. He was not indolent, but I do not believe he was one to exert himself to do more than what was required. I feel that is where he differs to Mr Darcy. He will discharge his responsibilities to the best of his ability, and I suppose he takes pride in it. What's the point of doing something unless you have taken pride in the work you have performed? It is no different than the work of a master carpenter or painter. And I know Mr Darcy would go out of his way to help others if he can.”

“How does he compare to Mr Wickham?” asked her aunt. Elizabeth had told both her aunt and uncle about his desertion from the militia and his debts and dissolute behaviour.

Elizabeth gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “Mr Wickham certainly is very attractive. Both his looks and his manners are designed to please. He had all the appearance of goodness without actually having a shred of it. Whereas Mr Darcy, by honour strives to always do what he believes is right. There is no question to his honourability.”

“What about Mr Bingley?” asked her aunt.

“Mr Bingley belongs to Jane,” scoffed Elizabeth. “I would never contest with her.”

“If Jane had already been married, would you have been interested?”

“Our interactions are pleasant, but not deep.” Elizabeth thought quietly on it. After a few moments she continued. “He is a people pleaser. He is confident with pleasing manners but he lacks Mr Darcy’s self-assurance. Mr Bingley enjoys company, probably more than I care for it.”

“You certainly tend towards introversion, though probably not as much a Mr Darcy,” agreed her aunt.

“I think Mr Darcy and I would both be perfectly happy entrenched in his library forever. My father certainly would be.”

“Are there any other men you could compare Mr Darcy to?” asked her aunt.

Elizabeth was about to shake her head for no when a thought occurred. “There was his cousin, the Colonel.”

“What was he like?”

“Very pleasant. Of a similar age to Mr Darcy, hence their closeness. He is not as attractive as his cousin, but his manners are easy and I got along very well with him. We have a great deal of fun together. He’s certainly well read though not as well read as Mr Darcy.”

Elizabeth thought back to her interactions with the Colonel. “He made it clear that he needed a dowry, so I suspect that he ensured that no real depth of feeling could start to grow between us. I suppose the difference there is that Mr Darcy has made it clear that he will do what it takes to pursue me. I like that determination. I like that he has listened to my criticisms, judged their value fairly despite the pain I've inflicted on him, and sought to address the concerns.”

They sat silently and Mrs Gardiner reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand. “If you want to know whether you love him or not, here are the questions to ponder and think on. Imagine the scenarios and examine how you feel and then you will know. Try and imagine him as the father of your children. Picture yourself growing old and frail with him. And then think of how you would feel if you left here and you never saw him again. Imagine your feelings if tomorrow you were told that he had died in the night.”

She felt her throat constrict at the mere mention of this and tears involuntarily came to her eyes. “Do not even joke about that.”

Mrs Gardiner stood. “I think you know what your answer is. It's late and I'm going back to bed.”

Elizabeth arose and gave her Aunt a hug. “Thank you for that advice. Yes, I understand my feelings so much better after this talk.”

“Do not stay up too long. We have a picnic we need to go to.”

“I'll return to bed shortly,” yawned Elizabeth. She looked out the window for a couple more minutes, enough to see an owl fly past the window. She imagined William cradling their child and looking at her with happiness. She could imagine him teaching their children to ride or reading a book to them in their nursery. Elizabeth knew what her response would be the next time he asked her. She got up and padded softly back to bed, falling asleep nearly instantly, her mind settled.