Her Indomitable Resolve

by Jann Rowland

  Mr. Darcy and his sister shared a look and then burst into laughter, their guests looking on in bemusement. After a moment of this, Mr. Darcy shook his head, a rueful gesture, Elizabeth thought, and responded.

  “Georgiana and I both thank you, Miss Bennet, for we are fond of our home. Would it surprise you to know that our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not approve of Pemberley?”

  Confused, Elizabeth regarded her host. “What, do her ladyship’s preferences tend toward the palatial? I suppose Chatsworth itself is not good enough for her, that she would prefer to evict Queen Charlotte from Queen’s House and take it for her own?”

  “Large residences are her ladyship’s preference,” acknowledged Mr. Darcy, “but that is not all. If you ever visited her estate in Kent, Rosings Park, you would understand the moment you walked in the door, for the décor there is ostentatious and obviously expensive.”

  At once Elizabeth understood, and the memory of something Mr. Collins had said several years before returned to her. “My sister’s husband once spoke of a grand fireplace at Rosings.”

  The shaking of Mr. Darcy’s head spoke to his feelings on the subject. “Yes, I know the one. It was an altogether costly and useless project, for the previous mantle was of superior quality. But her ladyship wished for a larger mantle to impress her neighbors and would not be dissuaded.

  “As for her ladyship’s feelings for Pemberley, it is too plain in her opinion. Not long after my mother’s passing, she came to Pemberley and began making plans to refresh some of the rooms she felt were in dire need of more formality. When my father refused to hear anything of any changes, Lady Catherine left Pemberley and has not returned since. It was one such event that led to an implacable enmity between them.”

  “That is confusing, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “Lady Catherine is not deficient in understanding, is she? That is improper in the extreme for her to insinuate herself as mistress of a man’s estate.”

  “Aunt Catherine is not deficient,” said Georgiana. “It is that she thinks what is proper does not apply to her.”

  “I could not have put it any better, Georgiana,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “Then I hope you will not think ill of me if I suggest your aunt is devoid of taste,” said Elizabeth. “Though you may abuse me, I shall defend my opinion and hear no other.”

  “No, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, “for we agree with you.”

  The very day after their arrival, Elizabeth woke, finding herself eager to explore. The woods through which the carriage had traveled had seemed delightful, as had the brief glimpse of the grounds she had managed before the light failed the previous day. Those vistas promised pleasures aplenty

  “Did I not tell you?” said Jane at the breakfast table when they all gathered together. “My sister can find contentment wherever there are trees and rocks and streams to explore.”

  The company all laughed at Elizabeth’s expense, but she said nothing in her defense, contenting herself by saying: “Then you should be relieved that I can see to my own entertainment.”

  “Perhaps today there is enough nearby to hold your attention,” said Mr. Darcy, nodding to his sister. “Bingley and I are to ride out on the estate this morning, for my steward has informed me of several matters I must see to, but I am certain Georgiana will show you the formal gardens and those paths nearer the house.”

  “Oh, yes, let me show you the gardens, Elizabeth. My mother’s rose garden is so beautiful—I am certain you would like it very well.”

  “What is this talk of formal gardens?” demanded Elizabeth, fixing both Darcys with a mock glare. “Do you not know that formal gardens are far too tame for me? I much prefer the wildness of nature, the sprawl of trees left to nature’s direction, the thrill of walking amid the calls of birds and buzzing of insects.”

  Then Elizabeth allowed a grin and added: “That sounds lovely, Georgiana. Show me your mother’s rose garden and the rest of what Pemberley has to offer. I shall begin exploring later this week.”

  Georgiana grinned and agreed, and Mr. Darcy spoke up and said: “In this, I agree with you, Miss Bennet, and my forebears did too. The formal gardens are extensive but smaller than many houses of this size, and much of the park is left to nature’s edict. I will warn you, however, that the park is ten miles around, which I must think is beyond even your prodigious abilities!”

  “Perhaps we shall discover the limits of my abilities, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “For the moment, I shall be content with your excellent sister and those paths close at hand.”

  And content she was, at least for the moment. The formal gardens were a delight, for all that well-manicured paths had always seemed sterile to Elizabeth, nothing more than man’s authority stamped on his surroundings. In some way Elizabeth could not quite fathom, even in the gardens nature still had sway, for there was only a topiary or two, and the hedge maze was not extensive, a place where one might find tranquility rather than a challenge to find the correct path. The little nook to where Georgiana directed them, in which Lady Anne’s rose garden—preserved by the gardeners, and, when she grew old enough, her daughter—was perhaps the most beautiful sight Elizabeth had ever seen in such a location.

  “It is my favorite part of the gardens,” acknowledged Georgiana with a shy smile. “Everything is still the way my mother preferred it, or so I am told. It is in this part of the garden that I somehow feel . . . close to my mother, as if she were watching over me, whispering her love for me in the wind.”

  “Methinks someone is a poet,” observed Elizabeth, recognizing the girl’s words as a longing for a mother she never knew. “I am sure your mother does keep watch over you in this, and other places. She would have been proud of you.”

  Georgiana sighed and gave Elizabeth a slight smile. “Perhaps she would be, though I will own I have made mistakes the same as the next girl.”

  “Who among us has not?” replied Jane.

  “Who, indeed? Though I know your mother can be difficult, you are fortunate to have her in your lives. I would give much to spend only a single minute with my mother, to learn the sound of her voice or the curves of her face. Life without her has been hard.”

  Georgiana’s wistful wish for her mother’s presence entered Elizabeth’s heart, forcing her to remember her own mother, thoughts which stayed with her for some time. As her friend had said, Mrs. Bennet could be tiresome, but Elizabeth could not imagine being without her, of growing to adulthood without ever having met her. It was a bit of perspective, something she had not considered before, rendering her mother’s eccentricities less troubling, easier to bear. Elizabeth knew her mother would vex her when they were in each other’s company again; at that moment, however, Elizabeth missed her and wished to be with her.

  After that initial day in the gardens, Elizabeth became impatient for the wider surroundings and determined to walk out to discover what delights were hidden beyond sight of the house. When she made her announcement, however, Georgiana spoke up yet again.

  “If you mean to walk far, Elizabeth, you should take my brother with you. He knows more about Pemberley than anyone else and can guide you to the best and most interesting places.”

  For the first time it entered Elizabeth’s mind that her friend might harbor some aspirations concerning Mr. Darcy and herself. Now was not the time to consider such matters, however, so Elizabeth pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind for later contemplation.

  “I should be happy to accompany you on your adventures,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “I would not wish to inconvenience you,” said Elizabeth. “There must be many tasks for you to accomplish after such a lengthy absence.”

  “My steward is a capable man who has been managing Pemberley while I was in London,” said Mr. Darcy. “There are certain things I must do, but I am not at work from sunup until sundown. The morning will suffice for what I must accomplish; I should think I will be at my leisure in the afternoon.”

  Elizabeth absorbed thi
s and replied: “Then perhaps I might explore a little closer to the house in the morning, and the afternoons you may show me what lies further away?”

  “Perhaps we might all walk out,” interrupted Jane. “I should like to see some of it myself.”

  “Then it is settled,” said Mr. Darcy.

  Thus, Elizabeth found herself walking in Mr. Darcy’s company almost daily, or at least when it did not rain. In the mornings, Mr. Darcy pointed her to paths he thought were easy and would take her amongst the woods, yet not tax her. In the afternoons, they walked as a company, the Darcys showing them some of the wonders of their home, showing them delights hidden among the foliage, which might have taken Elizabeth days of exploring to discover.

  That did not mean the entire company walked every day, for her companions often had other interests to distract them. Elizabeth calculated that the company walked together on perhaps half the days, and even then, Jane and Mr. Bingley did not always walk as far as Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Georgiana, for her part, seemed content to stay with them when the company was together, but when Jane and Mr. Bingley turned back, she would often follow them away, furthering Elizabeth’s suspicions of her friend’s hopes.

  On the other occasions, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy ranged far, though the estate was extensive enough that Elizabeth did not think she covered even a fraction of the awesome size of Mr. Darcy’s lands. And during these times, they spoke of many matters, though Mr. Darcy learned early on that Elizabeth was not one to dawdle as she walked.

  “I walk for exercise, Mr. Darcy,” said she on one occasion when she strode away from him, Mr. Darcy following her, matching her pace with his long legs. “If I meander along, I might not return to the house by the time I must retire, to say nothing of dinner!”

  “Yes, I can see your energy is indefatigable, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy. “Walking quickly, however, leaves little time for conversation. Perhaps we may slow our pace on occasions, so we may converse.”

  Feeling unaccountably shy, Elizabeth nodded and said: “That is acceptable.”

  Their topics of conversation ranged over many things, from family to life experience, to various subjects of interest. They spoke of current events in England and beyond, spoke of the war on the continent, the upstart Americans in the New World, and places to which they would like to travel. The subjects were so varied that they never became wearied with each other’s company; in fact, they drew closer as they spoke, each coming to a clearer understanding of the other over time. It was during one of these conversations that the topic of Elizabeth’s mother once again came up.

  It was a day when Elizabeth felt grateful for her companions’ indulgence of her eccentricities, for her desire to learn of Pemberley, and thereby understand Mr. Darcy, was ever in the front of her mind. That she had learned much already was a blessing, but the amount of time she had spent out of doors of late prompted her to recall her mother and loosened her tongue.

  “Thank you for your forbearance, Mr. Darcy. Had I spent this much time out of doors at Longbourn, I would have received the scolding of my life!”

  Mr. Darcy looked on her with interest. “Might I assume you are speaking of Mr. Collins?”

  That gentleman had not crossed Elizabeth’s mind for several days. “No, I was thinking of my mother. Mr. Collins disapproved of my walking, but he confined his comments to quoting your aunt and assumed I would do as he wished and stay indoors at all times. My mother, however, would often complain about my penchant for traipsing all over the county. I am afraid she considered me quite wild.”

  “Not wild, I am certain. It is possible she worried for your safety and could not express herself properly?”

  Looking away before Mr. Darcy could see her grimace, Elizabeth considered the gentleman’s words. “Perhaps, you are correct, Mr. Darcy. I have been . . . reminded that I am fortunate to have a mother.”

  “Georgiana spoke of it when you visited Mother’s rose garden.”

  Elizabeth turned back to him, letting him know of her appreciation with her pleased smile. “It seems you know your sister well, sir. Difficult though it is to be reminded of such things, I should strive to remember how fortunate I have been.”

  “How so, Miss Bennet?” asked Mr. Darcy.

  “You have met my mother, sir,” said Elizabeth, introspection stealing over her. “She was not born a gentlewoman, and she can be difficult to bear, for she possesses an indifferent grasp of propriety and she fancies herself nervous and ill-used.

  “However, she is also my mother, and she was an excellent mistress of Longbourn for many years. She birthed five daughters, all of whom knew her love, no matter how she did not always understand us. Your sister’s words have taught me that I should appreciate what I have in her and forgive her faults while looking to see her strengths.”

  An odd look fell over Mr. Darcy’s countenance, and he considered Elizabeth’s words for a moment. What he was thinking, Elizabeth could not be certain, for he did not explain, but they walked on in silence for some moments, Elizabeth enjoying the path and the singing birds overheard, while Mr. Darcy pondered.

  “What of you, sir?” asked Elizabeth when the quiet had persisted for some moments. “You were old enough to remember your mother, were you not?”

  “Yes, I was,” replied Mr. Darcy, his gaze focused on her again, “for I was ten years of age when my mother passed away. Mother was a loving woman, warm and caring, one who could make anyone feel valued with nothing more than her smile.” Mr. Darcy paused, and a slight frown came over his face. “It was Mother’s blessing, but in some ways, it was also a curse.”

  “Oh?” asked Elizabeth, confused. “In what way?”

  “My father was not the same,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Though I may sound like I am criticizing my father, it is the furthest from the truth, for I esteemed him greatly. But Father was not a warm man. He was a man of duty, for whom humor was an unknown concept. My father was an excellent master and manager of my family’s legacy; but he experienced little joy in life.”

  “Thus, for your mother, her loving nature was wasted on a man who did not respond.”

  “Did not know how to respond, I suspect,” replied Mr. Darcy, nodding to acknowledge her point. “Father took a great deal of care for his wife, but I believe it was because that was how his father taught him to behave. His feelings for her, however, were colder, perhaps akin to what a man feels for a business partner.”

  “So your mother did not have much fulfillment in her marriage,” said Elizabeth with a sigh, thinking of how marriages of love and devotion appeared rare.

  Mr. Darcy nodded. “My memories of my mother are the memories of a child, but even then, I could see that Mother longed for a more heartfelt response from my father. In many ways, I believe I was the gratification she could not get from her husband.

  “It is ironic that Mother’s death affected Father far more than she had in her life.” At Elizabeth’s questioning look, Mr. Darcy clarified: “Something was missing in my father after my mother passed, though I suspect he did not even know what it was. It was like he . . . wasted away after her death, though I do not know that is the correct way to put it. He seemed . . . grimmer somehow, even colder than he had been before.”

  This was comparable to her parents’ relationship, though they were not similar people to Mr. Darcy’s parents. Seeing the gentleman watching her, Elizabeth spoke up, saying:

  “I am struck by the parallels between your parents and mine, Mr. Darcy, though the situations were different. Though my parents did not get on well and were not suited in temperament, I believe Mama has missed my father, though in life she always said he delighted in vexing her.”

  “Vexing her?” echoed Mr. Darcy.

  “Papa was a complex man, and one not suited to being a gentleman. I often heard others refer to my father as possessing a strange mix of quickness, sarcasm, and a jaded view of the world. By contrast, my mother is a flighty, nervous woman of little information or interest in obta
ining more. Papa might have been better as a university professor than a gentleman.

  “Though it does not speak well to his character, Papa married my mother in a moment of infatuation, learned she was not an adequate companion for an intelligent man, and sunk into indifference, taking to teasing her and provoking her nerves. After a fashion, they were fond of each other, but neither had much respect for the other, and it showed in their dealings with each other.”

  Mr. Darcy was silent for some moments, considering what Elizabeth said. While she waited for him to gather his thoughts, Elizabeth remembered the disharmony that had often reigned in her home—of a dissimilar kind from the tension Mr. Collins introduced, but at times, as stifling.

  “It is the one thing I always regretted in my father,” whispered Elizabeth a short time later, “though I was his favorite daughter and I loved my father very much. If he had taken her in hand and taught her what she needed to know, he might have found more contentment in life. Instead, he chose another route, and it led to difficulty and strife.”

  “These are sad tales, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy with no hint of a smile.

  “It is, I believe, altogether too common,” replied Elizabeth. “Though I do have some excellent examples of matrimony—my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and Jane and Mr. Bingley, come to mind—there seem to be many more of the other kind. It is for this reason that Jane and I always determined that we would not marry unless we found husbands we could love and respect.”

  The look with which Mr. Darcy regarded her was of such affection that Elizabeth felt it was another sun warming her face. “Then I commend you, Miss Bennet, for I believe that satisfaction in the marriage state cannot be any greater than when entered for the right reasons. Significant wealth and connections are important to most of our society, but these pale in comparison with love, companionship, and trust.”

  The fruits of that day stayed with Elizabeth for many days later, for several things became clear about her host. These matters she pondered in her heart, keeping them hidden while she watched and waited and came to know the enigmatic man through their shared interactions.