Tea Room
Chatsworth
A Novel Idea
About DWG
| ||||||
The Way It Ought to Be, Chapter 15
Happy Friday, everyone! I have just realized that I did not make replies to any comments from last chapter, so I apologize for that. I had replied to them all in my head. 
To those of you who are still angry at Darcy for hanging out with Miss Cornish, what can I say? He was an idiot. And it's also possible that gossip made more of it than it ever actually was. To those of you who compared the last chapter to Adventures at Morecastle, again, what can I say? I wrote them both. And to the reader who was afraid that there would be a Wickham and Lydia twist, I am happy to announce that there is a Wickham/Lydia twist! But it's not what you're expecting, because it's a twist! I hope to astonish you all. 
You won't find it in this chapter, though. Enjoy some lightheartedness after all the melancholy, dear readers.
Chapter 15: A Little Disreputable
They remained at their current occupation for some time. Indeed, it seemed to Elizabeth that Darcy would have been content to remain as they were in the grass for hours. He no longer looked much like the formal gentleman she had spoken with in Netherfield’s refined parlours those months ago—he was rumpled, and grass-stained and (she knew) in some pain, but also so much happier.
She was quite entirely pleased herself, but the day was getting on, and one of them had to be sensible. She sat up. “Can you walk at all?”
“With your assistance, perhaps.” With a reluctant sigh, he sat up as well. “Swimming may present something of a challenge.”
“That is not to be thought of. We shall have to wait until a search party finds us. Surely my father has sent some by now.”
“Bingley set out to look for you the same time I did, though I think it was mainly to humor me. If the attitude of your family is anything to go by, my love, your affinity for long walks has become legendary.”
“That is true.” There would be time enough another day to tell him why she had wandered so far and long recently. “I must admit that I am not very sorry for it today, although I could wish that now—” Her sentence was cut off by the sound of Darcy’s laugh. It was a very pleasant sound; when she saw the reason he was laughing, she laughed too.
There by the edge of their island bobbed their little errant boat, blown back to them by the changing winds.
“Come, let me secure it.” Elizabeth ran down to the water, and waded in a foot or two until she could grasp its side, and pull it more firmly up onto the bank. “I think we will still be able to push it off from there,” she said as she returned, “if only we can get you to it.”
“As obstacles go, that seems a very minor one,” was his reply. “I have overcome some much more significant impediments lately.”
“I put too many before you,” said Elizabeth, sitting next to him. “It was not fair.”
Darcy took the opportunity to kiss her again, and smiled good-humouredly. “It was entirely fair. You are a woman worthy of being pleased.”
“I fear we will get into a quarrel if we continue this line of discussion: you will hardly admit I was wrong, and I will hardly admit to having ever been right. Our time will be better spent getting you back to Netherfield.”
“As you wish.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and together they got him to his feet. He leaned more heavily on her this time, and she could tell that even the slight weight he put on his foot caused him pain, but he uttered no complaint as they slowly hobbled back towards the boat. Getting him in was an awkward business, though he rowed them across with the same firm, graceful strokes as before. At the other bank there was more wading and staggering, and they nearly both ended in the water, but at last, with a sigh of relief, the reached his horse, still waiting peacefully by the shed.
Leaning on the saddle for support, Darcy again pulled grass from Elizabeth’s hair. “You’ve achieved a very disreputable appearance,” he told her.
Elizabeth laughed, and reach up to return the favour. “You are a little disreputable yourself, you know. I fear I have corrupted you.”
“You have only made me a better man! Elizabeth…” He had a light in his eyes that told her he was about to launch into a lover-like speech, but Elizabeth curtailed it by standing on her toes to kiss him. Afterward, she took her shoes and went down to the water to wash her feet and legs. She dared not turn her head to see how much of this he watched. When she finally returned he was fidgeting with the straps.
Elizabeth untied the reins, and Darcy was able to heave himself into the saddle without too much difficulty. He gave her his hand, she climbed up in front of him, and just as they were setting off, his one arm securely around her waist, Mr. Bingley and two of Mr. Bennet’s hired hands rode out of the trees.
Elizabeth heard Darcy chuckle behind her. He was pleased to have rescued her on his own, she thought.
“Darcy!” cried Bingley, then, “Lizzy! Good heavens, what happened?”
“I got myself stranded on that island over there,” she said, when they had gotten a little closer. “Mr. Darcy was kind enough to rescue me.”
“Stranded? Great Jove! However did you manage that? Lizzy, are you hurt? You must have been out there for hours.”
“Yes, but I am perfectly well.” She smiled brilliantly at him.
“Darcy, well done.” Bingley seemed to be gradually assessing the looks of the people in front of him, not to mention the possessive way Darcy gripped Elizabeth’s waist. A slow smile began to spread across his face. “You are the hero of the day, it seems.”
“Yes he is.” Elizabeth smirked a bit, too happy to be embarrassed. “But he injured himself in the process. His ankle is sprained, if not worse.”
“It is nothing of consequence. We ought to get Miss Bennet home.”
“By all means!” Bingley led the way with a smirk of his own. “We are only glad to find you unharmed, Lizzy.”
They made their way back at an undemanding pace. By the time they arrived it was dark, and Elizabeth’s family at last really alarmed. Her father had set out some time ago with other men. Mr. Bennet’s old hunting horn was brought out and sounded to signal her safety, while her mother, Jane, the four children, Mrs. Hill and her friend Charlotte all came rushing out of the house.
“Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, where have you been?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I made sure you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”
Bingley helped her down, and she was borne away, able only to glance over her shoulder at the man who still sat on his horse, watching her. He was turning his mount’s head as they went in the door.
Over the next hour, as Elizabeth was fed, washed and changed, she heard the story of that afternoon first from young Meg Gardiner, and then from Charlotte, who had been visiting with her mother at the time. “Aunt Bennet let me stay in the drawing room when everyone came,” said Meg. “First Lady Lucas and Miss Lucas and Miss Maria, and then Jane and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy came. Everyone else was talking, but Mr. Darcy kept looking at the door, and I think he must have been looking for you, Lizzy, because then Jane asked how long you had been gone, and nobody knew of course, and he sat up and looked so fierce, Lizzy!”
“He was very concerned,” said Jane, who had stayed behind to assure herself of her sister’s well being.
“He broke right into the middle of Aunt Bennet’s speech, and demanded to know when was the last time anyone had seen you! And Aunt Bennet said she had not seen you since breakfast, and you were supposed to bring her a receipt from Aunt Phillips’s cook and had not, then Uncle Bennet said you were always gadding-about these days and would come home like Little Bo Peep’s sheep when you were ready, and—” she paused to take a breath. “And then Mr. Darcy just walked out of the room!”
“He did talk to Jane first,” explained Charlotte later, after Meg had been sent away. “To find out where your favourite haunts were. But his exit was rather abrupt—one moment he was there, the next we heard him calling for his coat in the hall. Mr. Bingley decided to go with him, and that was it. Mr. Darcy must be in love with you, Eliza; I am sure there was no reason for him to be so worried otherwise.”
“We are all grateful to Mr. Darcy,” put in Jane.
“Even Jane thought you were perfectly safe.”
Jane blushed. “It is true. It is only because you have come to spend so many hours outside lately, dearest.”
“Yes, I have.” Her sister’s embarrassment amused Lizzy. “I believe I have always come home before dinner, though. Tell me, if I had been lying injured in a ditch, how many days would it take for my family to come looking for me on their own? Two? Three? Do you suppose my absence from church on Sunday would be remarked?”
“Lizzy!” Jane laughed and blushed some more. “Of course, by the time dinner drew near and you had not returned—nor Mr. Darcy either—we all became very concerned then.”
“So you are saying that even without Mr. Darcy, there was a fair chance that you would not have simply discovered my skeleton on that island one day? Because I can quite see it—your children, or grandchildren, perhaps! on a boating trip, never imagining the grisly discovery awaiting them.”
Suddenly reverting to their childhood, Jane hit her sister with a pillow. Elizabeth laughed, defended herself, returned the gesture. Charlotte rolled her eyes in an older-sister-like way, and resumed her narrative. “Mr. Bingley returned eventually and said he had not seen you, but Mr. Darcy we never saw again. My mother wondered if he had fallen down some hole with you.”
“He had, in a sense.”
“I think that your father had really become worried before then, but he did not like to admit it, or perhaps he thought the men would find you. But when Mrs. Bennet grew distressed too, he declared that he would join the search; so he called his men, and they set off in one direction, while Mr. Bingley went back out in another direction with two others, and since my mother did not like to leave yours, and I wished to remain too, we all sat and waited until Mr. Darcy brought you back.”
“And we are so thankful you are unharmed,” said Jane.
“It is a bit mortifying not to be injured, after such fuss. I feel I ought to have at least a good limp, but that, alas, has fallen to Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth could not help the smile that crossed her face whenever she said his name. She felt Jane’s eyes on her, and tried to appear unaffected, but only blushed instead.
“However did he come to injure himself after all?” Her sister pried delicately.
“Jumping out of the boat, when he first reached me. There was an unevenness in the ground that was covered by the grass.”
“How long were the two of you on the island together?” asked Charlotte slyly. Lizzy blushed harder.
“It was not more than an hour, I am sure. Not much more, anyway.”
“Oh, no, not much more at all.” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled.
“Charlotte! Really, we were not there so very long.”
“Of course not.” Her friend was laughing now, and even Jane could not suppress her smiles. Elizabeth began to laugh too.
“It is not as if we remained by choice!”
“Yes, because your boat floated away, I remember. ”
“Well, it did!”
“And then conveniently floated back,” contributed Jane.
“Very conveniently,” agreed Charlotte.
She laughed, shook her head, and refused to rise to their baits further. Although she intended to tell Jane everything as soon as possible, Charlotte would have to wait until after Mr. Bennet’s official approval. Soon enough, Charlotte took her leave, and Jane talked of doing the same, but lingered long enough to hug her sister again.
“I am so happy you are safe, Lizzy. If you had been hurt! I would never have forgiven myself.”
“As if you had anything to do with it!” Lizzy hugged her back fondly, and looked down at her swollen belly. “How is baby today?”
Jane placed her hand where her child was. “Oh, well! Very well! Moving a lot. But, Lizzy…” She hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Forgive me if I am intruding, but you seem so very happy this evening. Did anything… did Mr. Darcy…?”
“Mr. Darcy and I reached an understanding,” said Elizabeth. Jane looked hopeful, but uncertain, and she laughed. “Yes, Jane, that kind of understanding.”
“Oh! I am so very glad.” Jane hugged her again. “I knew you loved him.”
“I do! I love him more than I can even explain. He is far too good for me.”
“Or perhaps the only man who is good enough. My dearest wish is for you to be happy.”
“You would not say that if you knew everything. Oh, Jane, I have been...” The maid knocked on her door, to say that Mr. Bingley was wanting his wife, so there was no time to speak more. “It is a happiness I do not deserve.”
“That is how I felt too, when Charles proposed. You will come tomorrow?”
“Of course!” They shared one last, radiant look, and Jane went downstairs.
~*~
Later that evening, as Elizabeth was preparing for bed, a note arrived for her from Netherfield. Mrs. Hill brought it up the stairs herself, and paused to tell the young miss how glad she was of her safety.
Elizabeth opened it, and when she saw the signature, blushed and smiled.
Elizabeth traced the signature tenderly. She had never seen his Christian name written in his hand. How very ardently I love you. She felt she could remain awake all night rereading what he had written, but first she would send him the reply he desired.
Pulling a new sheet of paper towards her, she dipped her pen, thought a moment, and began to write.
She scrutinised this note, sealed it, and took it downstairs herself to see it was sent off. Not long after she was in bed, but even as tired as her day in the sun had made her, it was some time before she dropped into sleep, Darcy’s letter lying by her pillow.
To those of you who are still angry at Darcy for hanging out with Miss Cornish, what can I say? He was an idiot. And it's also possible that gossip made more of it than it ever actually was. To those of you who compared the last chapter to Adventures at Morecastle, again, what can I say? I wrote them both. And to the reader who was afraid that there would be a Wickham and Lydia twist, I am happy to announce that there is a Wickham/Lydia twist! But it's not what you're expecting, because it's a twist! I hope to astonish you all. You won't find it in this chapter, though. Enjoy some lightheartedness after all the melancholy, dear readers.
Chapter 15: A Little Disreputable
They remained at their current occupation for some time. Indeed, it seemed to Elizabeth that Darcy would have been content to remain as they were in the grass for hours. He no longer looked much like the formal gentleman she had spoken with in Netherfield’s refined parlours those months ago—he was rumpled, and grass-stained and (she knew) in some pain, but also so much happier.
She was quite entirely pleased herself, but the day was getting on, and one of them had to be sensible. She sat up. “Can you walk at all?”
“With your assistance, perhaps.” With a reluctant sigh, he sat up as well. “Swimming may present something of a challenge.”
“That is not to be thought of. We shall have to wait until a search party finds us. Surely my father has sent some by now.”
“Bingley set out to look for you the same time I did, though I think it was mainly to humor me. If the attitude of your family is anything to go by, my love, your affinity for long walks has become legendary.”
“That is true.” There would be time enough another day to tell him why she had wandered so far and long recently. “I must admit that I am not very sorry for it today, although I could wish that now—” Her sentence was cut off by the sound of Darcy’s laugh. It was a very pleasant sound; when she saw the reason he was laughing, she laughed too.
There by the edge of their island bobbed their little errant boat, blown back to them by the changing winds.
“Come, let me secure it.” Elizabeth ran down to the water, and waded in a foot or two until she could grasp its side, and pull it more firmly up onto the bank. “I think we will still be able to push it off from there,” she said as she returned, “if only we can get you to it.”
“As obstacles go, that seems a very minor one,” was his reply. “I have overcome some much more significant impediments lately.”
“I put too many before you,” said Elizabeth, sitting next to him. “It was not fair.”
Darcy took the opportunity to kiss her again, and smiled good-humouredly. “It was entirely fair. You are a woman worthy of being pleased.”
“I fear we will get into a quarrel if we continue this line of discussion: you will hardly admit I was wrong, and I will hardly admit to having ever been right. Our time will be better spent getting you back to Netherfield.”
“As you wish.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and together they got him to his feet. He leaned more heavily on her this time, and she could tell that even the slight weight he put on his foot caused him pain, but he uttered no complaint as they slowly hobbled back towards the boat. Getting him in was an awkward business, though he rowed them across with the same firm, graceful strokes as before. At the other bank there was more wading and staggering, and they nearly both ended in the water, but at last, with a sigh of relief, the reached his horse, still waiting peacefully by the shed.
Leaning on the saddle for support, Darcy again pulled grass from Elizabeth’s hair. “You’ve achieved a very disreputable appearance,” he told her.
Elizabeth laughed, and reach up to return the favour. “You are a little disreputable yourself, you know. I fear I have corrupted you.”
“You have only made me a better man! Elizabeth…” He had a light in his eyes that told her he was about to launch into a lover-like speech, but Elizabeth curtailed it by standing on her toes to kiss him. Afterward, she took her shoes and went down to the water to wash her feet and legs. She dared not turn her head to see how much of this he watched. When she finally returned he was fidgeting with the straps.
Elizabeth untied the reins, and Darcy was able to heave himself into the saddle without too much difficulty. He gave her his hand, she climbed up in front of him, and just as they were setting off, his one arm securely around her waist, Mr. Bingley and two of Mr. Bennet’s hired hands rode out of the trees.
Elizabeth heard Darcy chuckle behind her. He was pleased to have rescued her on his own, she thought.
“Darcy!” cried Bingley, then, “Lizzy! Good heavens, what happened?”
“I got myself stranded on that island over there,” she said, when they had gotten a little closer. “Mr. Darcy was kind enough to rescue me.”
“Stranded? Great Jove! However did you manage that? Lizzy, are you hurt? You must have been out there for hours.”
“Yes, but I am perfectly well.” She smiled brilliantly at him.
“Darcy, well done.” Bingley seemed to be gradually assessing the looks of the people in front of him, not to mention the possessive way Darcy gripped Elizabeth’s waist. A slow smile began to spread across his face. “You are the hero of the day, it seems.”
“Yes he is.” Elizabeth smirked a bit, too happy to be embarrassed. “But he injured himself in the process. His ankle is sprained, if not worse.”
“It is nothing of consequence. We ought to get Miss Bennet home.”
“By all means!” Bingley led the way with a smirk of his own. “We are only glad to find you unharmed, Lizzy.”
They made their way back at an undemanding pace. By the time they arrived it was dark, and Elizabeth’s family at last really alarmed. Her father had set out some time ago with other men. Mr. Bennet’s old hunting horn was brought out and sounded to signal her safety, while her mother, Jane, the four children, Mrs. Hill and her friend Charlotte all came rushing out of the house.
“Oh Lizzy, Lizzy, where have you been?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “I made sure you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”
Bingley helped her down, and she was borne away, able only to glance over her shoulder at the man who still sat on his horse, watching her. He was turning his mount’s head as they went in the door.
Over the next hour, as Elizabeth was fed, washed and changed, she heard the story of that afternoon first from young Meg Gardiner, and then from Charlotte, who had been visiting with her mother at the time. “Aunt Bennet let me stay in the drawing room when everyone came,” said Meg. “First Lady Lucas and Miss Lucas and Miss Maria, and then Jane and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy came. Everyone else was talking, but Mr. Darcy kept looking at the door, and I think he must have been looking for you, Lizzy, because then Jane asked how long you had been gone, and nobody knew of course, and he sat up and looked so fierce, Lizzy!”
“He was very concerned,” said Jane, who had stayed behind to assure herself of her sister’s well being.
“He broke right into the middle of Aunt Bennet’s speech, and demanded to know when was the last time anyone had seen you! And Aunt Bennet said she had not seen you since breakfast, and you were supposed to bring her a receipt from Aunt Phillips’s cook and had not, then Uncle Bennet said you were always gadding-about these days and would come home like Little Bo Peep’s sheep when you were ready, and—” she paused to take a breath. “And then Mr. Darcy just walked out of the room!”
“He did talk to Jane first,” explained Charlotte later, after Meg had been sent away. “To find out where your favourite haunts were. But his exit was rather abrupt—one moment he was there, the next we heard him calling for his coat in the hall. Mr. Bingley decided to go with him, and that was it. Mr. Darcy must be in love with you, Eliza; I am sure there was no reason for him to be so worried otherwise.”
“We are all grateful to Mr. Darcy,” put in Jane.
“Even Jane thought you were perfectly safe.”
Jane blushed. “It is true. It is only because you have come to spend so many hours outside lately, dearest.”
“Yes, I have.” Her sister’s embarrassment amused Lizzy. “I believe I have always come home before dinner, though. Tell me, if I had been lying injured in a ditch, how many days would it take for my family to come looking for me on their own? Two? Three? Do you suppose my absence from church on Sunday would be remarked?”
“Lizzy!” Jane laughed and blushed some more. “Of course, by the time dinner drew near and you had not returned—nor Mr. Darcy either—we all became very concerned then.”
“So you are saying that even without Mr. Darcy, there was a fair chance that you would not have simply discovered my skeleton on that island one day? Because I can quite see it—your children, or grandchildren, perhaps! on a boating trip, never imagining the grisly discovery awaiting them.”
Suddenly reverting to their childhood, Jane hit her sister with a pillow. Elizabeth laughed, defended herself, returned the gesture. Charlotte rolled her eyes in an older-sister-like way, and resumed her narrative. “Mr. Bingley returned eventually and said he had not seen you, but Mr. Darcy we never saw again. My mother wondered if he had fallen down some hole with you.”
“He had, in a sense.”
“I think that your father had really become worried before then, but he did not like to admit it, or perhaps he thought the men would find you. But when Mrs. Bennet grew distressed too, he declared that he would join the search; so he called his men, and they set off in one direction, while Mr. Bingley went back out in another direction with two others, and since my mother did not like to leave yours, and I wished to remain too, we all sat and waited until Mr. Darcy brought you back.”
“And we are so thankful you are unharmed,” said Jane.
“It is a bit mortifying not to be injured, after such fuss. I feel I ought to have at least a good limp, but that, alas, has fallen to Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth could not help the smile that crossed her face whenever she said his name. She felt Jane’s eyes on her, and tried to appear unaffected, but only blushed instead.
“However did he come to injure himself after all?” Her sister pried delicately.
“Jumping out of the boat, when he first reached me. There was an unevenness in the ground that was covered by the grass.”
“How long were the two of you on the island together?” asked Charlotte slyly. Lizzy blushed harder.
“It was not more than an hour, I am sure. Not much more, anyway.”
“Oh, no, not much more at all.” Charlotte’s eyes twinkled.
“Charlotte! Really, we were not there so very long.”
“Of course not.” Her friend was laughing now, and even Jane could not suppress her smiles. Elizabeth began to laugh too.
“It is not as if we remained by choice!”
“Yes, because your boat floated away, I remember. ”
“Well, it did!”
“And then conveniently floated back,” contributed Jane.
“Very conveniently,” agreed Charlotte.
She laughed, shook her head, and refused to rise to their baits further. Although she intended to tell Jane everything as soon as possible, Charlotte would have to wait until after Mr. Bennet’s official approval. Soon enough, Charlotte took her leave, and Jane talked of doing the same, but lingered long enough to hug her sister again.
“I am so happy you are safe, Lizzy. If you had been hurt! I would never have forgiven myself.”
“As if you had anything to do with it!” Lizzy hugged her back fondly, and looked down at her swollen belly. “How is baby today?”
Jane placed her hand where her child was. “Oh, well! Very well! Moving a lot. But, Lizzy…” She hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Forgive me if I am intruding, but you seem so very happy this evening. Did anything… did Mr. Darcy…?”
“Mr. Darcy and I reached an understanding,” said Elizabeth. Jane looked hopeful, but uncertain, and she laughed. “Yes, Jane, that kind of understanding.”
“Oh! I am so very glad.” Jane hugged her again. “I knew you loved him.”
“I do! I love him more than I can even explain. He is far too good for me.”
“Or perhaps the only man who is good enough. My dearest wish is for you to be happy.”
“You would not say that if you knew everything. Oh, Jane, I have been...” The maid knocked on her door, to say that Mr. Bingley was wanting his wife, so there was no time to speak more. “It is a happiness I do not deserve.”
“That is how I felt too, when Charles proposed. You will come tomorrow?”
“Of course!” They shared one last, radiant look, and Jane went downstairs.
Later that evening, as Elizabeth was preparing for bed, a note arrived for her from Netherfield. Mrs. Hill brought it up the stairs herself, and paused to tell the young miss how glad she was of her safety.
Elizabeth opened it, and when she saw the signature, blushed and smiled.
My dearest Elizabeth — I could not go to my rest tonight without sending you some word. The surgeon has been here, and confirmed the lack of serious injury to my ankle. As I suspected, it is only a sprain. I should be as well as ever in a few weeks, nor can I regret the necessity to remain at Netherfield for the present.
My happiness, I hope you know, is more than I can express at this time. It is my intention to write to your father tomorrow and ask him to call, as I cannot go to him; the sooner we may have everything settled and open, the more satisfied I will be. I hope you will please come yourself as soon as may be, as I long to see you. I have been too long without your company to be satisfied with one afternoon, however much happiness it brought me.
If you will, send me some word before you retire so that I may know whether you have suffered any ill effects from your day. Again I find I must tell you how very ardently I love you. Your very devoted,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth traced the signature tenderly. She had never seen his Christian name written in his hand. How very ardently I love you. She felt she could remain awake all night rereading what he had written, but first she would send him the reply he desired.
Pulling a new sheet of paper towards her, she dipped her pen, thought a moment, and began to write.
My love [she felt very bold for addressing him so, but thought it would please him, which she meant to do] — Surely you know me too well by now to suspect me of having a frail constitution. Whatever effects I may have from my day, they are not ill. I may, perhaps, admit to being sunburnt, but only if you agree not to mention it when you see me, which will certainly be tomorrow. I will make what excuses I can as soon as I can, and may even arrive at Netherfield earlier and muddier than I did on one previous occasion. My father, I think, will wish to visit you tomorrow anyway, to thank you for his daughter’s rescue, but I will speak to him about it before I leave.
Please believe your affection returned in the fullest measure. Your own,
Elizabeth
She scrutinised this note, sealed it, and took it downstairs herself to see it was sent off. Not long after she was in bed, but even as tired as her day in the sun had made her, it was some time before she dropped into sleep, Darcy’s letter lying by her pillow.
