So Long, Sentiment

by Amber Allen-King

  "Well there was no cause for you to come to London, Mr. Bennet, I am quite capable--." Mrs. Bennet was saying, but Mr. Bennet cut her off.

  "No cause! You concocted the flimsiest excuse to leave Longbourn to rush to your daughter's side and when I simply express the desire to see my own child you say I have no reason?" Elizabeth covered her mouth in horror. She had rarely heard her father raise his voice, but he was clearly livid, although Elizabeth knew not about what. She held her breath, attempting to hear more. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but the situation was too extraordinary to resist. How had her father come to be in town? She had written to him only yesterday to beg his assistance in dealing with her mother, but it was impossible that he had received her letter in so short a time, or that he could have traveled from Longbourn even if he had. No, something dreadful must have happened in Hertfordshire to make her father come to town so unexpectedly. Elizabeth suddenly began to fear for her sisters' health and well-being. These past two weeks she had been so consumed in dealing with her own problems to even write to Mary, Kitty, or Lydia. Now one of them might be seriously ill or worse....

  "Mr. Bennet! If you would just leave this all to me, I will manage everything. There was no need to come to town and involve yourself in this, this...sordid business."

  "What 'sordid business' are you speaking of, Mrs. Bennet?" The sound of a chair being dragged out muffled Mrs. Bennet's words momentarily.

  "Why did you come to town, then?" Mr. Bennet said in a calmer tone.

  "Very well, Mr. Bennet, if you must know the truth. I came to town because I was worried about Lizzy." Even from outside of the room, Elizabeth could hear Mr. Bennet's gasp.

  "Why should you be concerned for Lizzy?" he asked.

  "She ran away from home, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet cried as though speaking to an idiot. "Surely you could understand a mother's concern."

  "Lizzy did not 'run away,' Mrs. Bennet. She merely left home on a planned trip a day early," her father said wearily.

  "But why, Mr. Bennet, why? I am afraid your dear girl has gotten herself into some trouble," Mrs. Bennet exclaimed dramatically. Elizabeth sighed.

  "Errant nonsense! I would sooner believe that of Lydia or Kitty, even Mary before I would believe such an accusation of my Lizzy!" Mr. Bennet declared.

  "Of course, you would defend your favorite. But you do not know what I do, Mr. Bennet. I know it all. I had hoped to spare you the truth about your Lizzy, but--."

  "Oh, where is that girl!" Mr. Bennet shouted in exasperation. He was tired from his journey and had no interest in his wife's blatherings. He had come to town to see his daughter and if there were any truths to be learned, he would hear them from her. Before Elizabeth could react, the door flew open, and Elizabeth found herself face to face with Mr. Bennet. He opened his arms and she rushed into his embrace.

  Ten

  —

  "Mr. Bennet!" Mr. Darcy called out in surprise.

  "Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet replied evenly, with a tip of his hat.

  "I did not know that you were...forgive my manners, sir. Pray walk into the house with me." Moments later, the two men settled into large comfortable chairs in Mr. Darcy's study. Mr. Harris poured out two cups of tea and departed.

  "When did you arrive in town, Mr. Bennet? Mr. Darcy began.

  "Last evening, sir. I was so fortunate as to be able to ride into town with a friend who was coming here on business, else I would have had to ride the post this morning. I am afraid my own equipage is currently being repaired. Had I waited for it to be mended, I might not have arrived for another week."

  "I did not know that you intended to come to London, Mr. Bennet," Mr. Darcy said a bit nervously.

  "Nor did I, but I realized that I could be of little use to my daughter from Longbourn," Mr. Bennet intoned. Mr. Darcy hesitated a moment, but Mr. Bennet volunteered no more.

  "You did receive my letter," Mr. Darcy assayed.

  "Letter!" Mr. Bennet cried, rising and carrying his cup as he began to perambulate around the room. "Letter? That thing read like some ladies' novel, and it was not much shorter." Mr. Darcy smiled, and absently ran a hand through his hair.

  "I wanted you to know everything--."

  "That much was obvious," Mr. Bennet countered, laying his cup and saucer aside. "What I want to know is what you want me to do about it!"

  • • •

  "Look at these, Lizzy. If you put a few of those little flowers in your hair you will look exquisite," Olivia said. She and Lizzy were at the notions counter at Harley's examining the goods on display.

  "Not if they exceed my budget. Poverty has a way of draining the color from my cheeks," Elizabeth laughed. Olivia had the salesman show them a sprig of lavender flowers that perfectly complemented the gown Elizabeth planned to wear on Saturday night. Olivia insisted on making a gift of them, and after she made her purchase they left the shop headed back towards Gracechurch Street. Olivia's servant walked a few paces behind, carrying a large box containing the gown in which she would be presented to her future relations.

  "So what reason did your father give for arriving in town so unexpectedly?" Olivia asked as she eyed the display of nonpareils in the window of a confectioner's shop.

  "He said he wanted to see his two eldest daughters, but he was being evasive. I think that there is something afoot." The two ladies walked on in silence for the length of one street.

  "So when will you see Mr. Darcy again?" Olivia asked.

  "Not until your engagement dinner," Elizabeth said as she dug into her reticule in search of her handkerchief. She found it and dabbed the corner of her eye to remove a speck of dust that had made it water.

  "Are you certain of that, Lizzy?" Olivia asked. Elizabeth was intent on putting away her handkerchief, and merely answered, "Hmm?" as she turned to her friend. She looked up then and saw an open carriage bearing the Darcy crest roll by. Its occupants could be plainly seen, although they did not appear to notice either of the ladies observing them. Elizabeth was shocked, to put it mildly. Olivia was merely curious.

  "Where do you suppose they are going?" she asked.

  "They are headed in the direction of Gracechurch Street, but I think the far more interesting question is where have they been!" Elizabeth said as she picked up her pace to keep the carriage in sight. As she expected, the carriage came to a stop outside the Gardiner's home. When Olivia and Elizabeth caught up with it some minutes later, its occupants had disappeared, apparently into the house. Olivia and Elizabeth entered the parlor just in time to catch the tail end of Mr. Darcy's explanation.

  "...And much to my surprise, I encountered Mr. Bennet this morning while I was returning home after my morning constitutional," Mr. Darcy was saying.

  "So I invited Mr. Darcy to join me for lunch at my club, and he was kind enough to offer me a ride back to Gracechurch Street," Mr. Bennet said as he and Mr. Darcy stood side by side before the mantelpiece, looking as innocent as a pair of newborn babes, but both Olivia and Elizabeth were suspicious. The two ladies exchanged a glance; how is it likely that these two men should meet out on a morning walk? Mr. Darcy's home was some distance from Gracechurch Street. No, the coincidence was too neat. The ladies stepped further into the parlor, where they saw that the two men were addressing Mrs. Bennet, who looked none too pleased with the prospect of another visit with Mr. Darcy. Olivia feigned a cough to get Mr. Darcy's attention. Elizabeth blushed slightly as she came forward to greet him.

  "Good morning, Mr. Darcy. This is a most unexpected pleasure. I had not thought to see you again until Saturday." Mr. Darcy's flustered repetition of the story he and Mr. Bennet had just recently told convinced the ladies that the gentlemen had completely fabricated the story. Mr. Darcy's expression delighted Olivia, and she recalled that day when she first saw him smile. It was that day in the park when she had first learned of his attachment. She greeted Mr. Darcy with a sly twinkle in her eye.

  "I understood that Mr. Bingley was coming by today," Mr. Bennet
said. "Has he absconded with my eldest?" Mrs. Bennet, in sour spirits reported that Jane and Mr. Bingley were in the conservatory. "Good, good. Why don't you young people go and join them? I have some business to attend to, and your rattling about here will just try poor Mrs. Bennet's nerves," he said with a wink. The three all looked at Mr. Bennet, then Elizabeth led the group to the conservatory. She could not observe Mr. Darcy as she went, since she was in the lead, but Olivia surreptitiously observed Mr. Darcy from the corner of her eye and was amused at the rapt attention he paid to the lazy curl that bounced about haphazardly at the nape of Elizabeth's neck. Mr. Bennet meanwhile sought out Mr. Gardiner in his study. He entered the room and made directly to the window that overlooked the small conservatory that opened onto a tiny garden at the rear of the house.

  "Ah, Thomas," said Mr. Gardiner, looking up from his paperwork, as Mr. Bennet shifted the curtain just enough to peek out and see Olivia, Elizabeth, and Mr. Darcy disrupt an intimate scene between Jane and Mr. Bingley. Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Did you speak with Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Gardiner asked from his position at the desk.

  "Yes, yes," Mr. Bennet said absently as he observed Jane's blush and Mr. Bingley's guilty expression. "You were right; the man is quite besotted with my Lizzy." Mr. Bennet sighed and went to the desk, where he claimed a nearby chair.

  "And did the young man acquit himself to your satisfaction? Did he explain his letter?"

  "Letter!" Mr. Bennet chuckled again. "Mrs. Radcliffe would give her right arm to be able to concoct such a plot! Five sheets back and front, brother! Between your letter and Mr. Darcy's, I do not know when I was last so well entertained. I am only sorry that I did not have the chance to read Lizzy's letter as well."

  "You do not believe that she wrote of Mr. Darcy, do you?" Mr. Gardiner asked, laying aside his reading glasses.

  "Perhaps not, but I wish she had all the same. I would like to know her mind on all this."

  Mr. Gardiner rose and fetched a pot of tea from a nearby table. "Did you and Mr. Darcy reach an understanding, then?" he asked as he poured out a cup for himself and his brother.

  "It is not me he needs to come to an understanding with," Mr. Bennet retorted. At Mr. Gardiner's frown, he added. "The poor boy put on quite a show, scraping and apologizing, and declaring his intent to make my Lizzy the happiest woman alive. Quite amusing," Mr. Bennet concluded as he sipped his tea. Mr. Gardiner gave him a reproachful look. "Oh, I gave the wretched creature my blessing, so long as Lizzy agrees to have him, Mr. Bennet admitted.

  "And will she?"

  "Mr. Darcy doe not seem to know. That is why I brought him here," he said, returning to the window. Mr. Gardiner followed. "I want to see them together."

  • • •

  Their kiss was hardly scandalous, but Jane and Mr. Bingley still blushed furiously when Elizabeth led Olivia and Mr. Darcy into the conservatory. The three could not suppress their smiles as the couple darted to opposite sides of the greenhouse.

  "Miss Bennet!" Mr. Darcy cried with an impish grin. "I see your ankle is well recovered." Elizabeth immediately took pity on her sister and changed the subject, asking Mr. Darcy if he had an interest in gardening. Mr. Darcy responded by speaking of the extensive grounds at his home in Derbyshire. Elizabeth drew him slightly away from the others and suggested that they go out to the garden and sit under the shade of the large elm. Leaving the others to their discussion of their forthcoming nuptials, Elizabeth led Mr. Darcy down the steps and across the tiny yard to a wooden bench that sheltered the couple from the hot July sun. It was barely wide enough to seat two. Elizabeth turned with a smile and sat upon the bench, while Mr. Darcy chose to remain standing. Unaware that his every action was being observed by Elizabeth's father and uncle, Mr. Darcy was nonetheless conscious of the other pairs of eyes at his back. Olivia, Jane, and Mr. Bingley were sitting in the conservatory apparently absorbed in conversation. However, Mr. Darcy did not have to turn around to know that the trio was actually engrossed in what was taking place in the garden.

  "Well, now that I have you all alone, Mr. Darcy, pray tell me what you and my father are about?" she smiled. Mr. Darcy started at her question, and then quickly repeated his earlier explanation, that the two had met by accident.

  "Come, come, Mr. Darcy. You may deceive my poor dear mother, but you do not really expect me to believe such a tale," Elizabeth challenged.

  "Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy asked, wide-eyed.

  "Do not dissemble, sir. Do you really expect me to believe that you and my father--residing miles apart--just happened to find each other while out on a morning stroll, and that my father, who has the merest acquaintance with you, should invite you to dine at his club?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows accusingly. Mr. Darcy swallowed hard.

  "Yes," he managed. Elizabeth rose and paced before Mr. Darcy, who instinctively leapt to his feet.

  "'Disguise of any sort is my abhorrence,' you once said as I recall," Elizabeth said. She stopped pacing and took a step toward Mr. Darcy, who instinctively stepped backward, much to Elizabeth's amusement and to the amusement of the men above. Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner exchanged a glance. They could not quite hear what was being said, but Elizabeth clearly had her suitor on the defensive. Below, Elizabeth crossed her arms. She was beginning to become frustrated by Mr. Darcy's stonewalling. She abruptly turned and started to head back toward the house, but she stopped when she heard Mr. Darcy's voice.

  "I met your father outside my own house in ______ Street as I returned home from my morning walk." Elizabeth whirled. Mr. Darcy stepped back once more. "Perhaps he has a friend in the neighborhood," Mr. Darcy offered with a shrug.

  "My father has no acquaintance in ______ Street!" Elizabeth said heatedly.

  "Perhaps you would do better to question your father, then," Mr. Darcy said softly. Elizabeth saw the truth in his words and chastened, returned to her seat on the bench. Mr. Darcy joined her.

  "Why did my father go to see you?" Elizabeth asked when she had fully regained her composure.

  "I do not know," Mr. Darcy said, "But we spoke mainly of you." Elizabeth shot him a glance. "You must realize that we have few other interests in common, although we did discuss our mutual love of Shakespeare and Mozart, and the occasional pleasure to be found in a glass of fine Amontillado sherry." The dimple in his cheek told Elizabeth that she was being toyed with, and as she fought to suppress the smile that sprang to her lips. She found herself reluctant to press Mr. Darcy for further details. She could hardly expect an interview between her father and Mr. Darcy to go very well, given the difference in their personalities and Elizabeth's former propensity for speaking extremely ill of the man she was now so desperately in love with. Her heart began to pound in her chest. "I told him everything, Miss Bennet. Actually," Mr. Darcy confessed through a veil of long dark eyelashes, "I sent him an express a few days ago describing our entire history," Mr. Darcy said with flushed cheeks. Elizabeth was astounded.

  "Whatever for?" Mr. Darcy grew redder.

  "I thought that he should know the truth about me. I thought it only fair that he know something of the man who loves and values his daughter above all else in the world..." Elizabeth felt herself begin to swoon, but was saved by Mr. Darcy's untimely ironic laugh. She frowned at him, wishing he had not been distracted by whatever led him to abort his proposal. "I guess I had thought to win another ally in my cause. When Miss Crenshaw told me of how the two of you tried to fix things between Mr. Bingley and your sister, I vowed to follow your example." Elizabeth stared at him, uncomprehending.

  "I do not have the pleasure of understanding you at all, Mr. Darcy," she said as Mr. Darcy plucked a flower from a nearby bush and proceeded to rend it to shreds. Both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stared at his hands as he attempted an explanation.

  "Miss Bennet had you and Miss Crenshaw to act as intermediaries. I chose to rely upon Mr. Gardiner."

  "My uncle!" Elizabeth cried.

  "Yes. I ran into him in _____ Park the morning after we met at the theatre. I
found myself confessing my feelings for you--and I hope you will forgive him--he told me of yours." It was Elizabeth's turn to blush.

  "Seeing that we were of similar minds...and hearts," Mr. Darcy said, laying his hand over Elizabeth's, "I needed only the opportunity to make my addresses. Of course, you had forbidden me to come here that day, and I did not know when I would see you again. After I spoke with Fitzwilliam and Miss Crenshaw, and she told me of your adventures in the park that day, I decided to enlist Mr. Gardiner's aid. I went right home and wrote him a note. As an afterthought, I also decided to write to your father. After all, I would need his blessing, and I wanted to stake my claim, so to speak, before Mr. Fowler made his advances." Elizabeth smirked at him.

  "You were jealous of Mr. Fowler?" she said, as if such a thing were ridiculous. As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Darcy concurred.

  "I know it sounds ridiculous, but Fowler and I have a history. He has always competed with me, coveting anything and everything I possessed. I did not mind losing a rare volume, or a magnificent horse, but I was not about to let him steal you away, Elizabeth."

  Elizabeth lost herself in the deep, earnest gaze in his eyes, and might have kissed him then, had she not glimpsed her smiling relations in the window at the edge of her line of sight. She lowered her eyes then, but squeezed Mr. Darcy's hand. "We seem to have a choice before us. We could acknowledge the mistakes I made, and learn from them, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me," she heard Mr. Darcy say. "Or we could choose to put the past behind us and begin again, remembering only from this day forward." Elizabeth met his eyes, only to avert them again.

  "We have both said and done things that we cannot be proud of, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said as she rose and walked to a place where she could see the window to her uncle's study without being seen herself. "Perhaps it would be best if we were to remember the past only as it gives us pleasure," she smiled, with another glance at the window as Mr. Darcy approached her. Elizabeth turned away from him, much to his consternation.