by P. O. Dixon
Charlotte reached out her hand to her friend. “As for the matter of you and Mr. Darcy, pray tell me anything except that your engagement to the gentleman is called off.”
“In truth, I did release him from our engagement on the heels of learning what my sister had done.”
“Eliza Bennet! How could you?”
“Judge me so severely as you will, but you cannot possibly subject me to greater censure than I have done so toward myself.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“How could I have done otherwise in the wake of Lydia’s scandalous behavior? I dared not subject Mr. Darcy nor his family—his young sister—to the censure of the world. I did what I had to do.”
Charlotte squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Of course, you did what you thought was best for all concerned. How can I fault you for that? I cannot, and I will not. But surely you see by now that none of that mattered to Mr. Darcy. As much as he may respect your family, surely in saving your sister and thereby your family’s reputation, he thought only of you.”
“I must confess that I would like to think so.”
“How can there be even the tiniest shred of doubt?”
“Oh, Charlotte, I hardly know what to think. I have neither seen nor heard from him since the day Jane and I received the devastating news in town, and he summarily sent us back to Longbourn.”
“Do you mean to say he arranged for your safe passage home just as a gentleman in love ought to do? No doubt urgent business prevented him from escorting you personally, and we now know precisely what that business entailed, do we not?
“Dearest Eliza,” Charlotte implored, “Mr. Darcy loves you. Anyone who has seen the way he looks at you knows that—just as you love him. Anyone who has observed the way you look at him would attest to that as well.
“The two of you are designed for each other. Mr. Darcy will come for you—I am willing to stake all that I hold dear on that. My greatest wish for the two of you is that when he does, you will welcome him with an open mind, an open heart, and best of all, with open arms. You both deserve each other’s love.”
Chapter 28
Unparalleled Goodness
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving a reply from Mrs. Gardiner as soon as she possibly could. Owing to the length of her aunt’s letter, Elizabeth was convinced that it was not a denial of Charlotte’s assertions. With no desire to be interrupted, she hurried into the little copse, sat down on one of the benches and prepared to be satisfied by all her aunt had to say.
Charlotte’s account of the Wickham debacle was chiefly based on hearsay, but still, it largely aligned with all Mrs. Gardiner had to say in her letter, which also included irrefutable details.
Much like Charlotte, Mrs. Gardiner also expressed her surprise by Elizabeth’s inquiries for nothing but the belief of her being a party concerned would have allowed her husband, Mr. Gardiner, to act as he had done, especially since they, theretofore, despite having heard a great deal about Mr. Darcy, had never actually made his acquaintance.
Having reflected for more than a moment or two on her aunt’s declaration, Elizabeth continued reading all her aunt had to say:
“On the very day of our coming home from Oxfordshire, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called and was shut up with him several hours. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with them both.”
Mrs. Gardiner had written in some detail about Mr. Darcy’s professed motives for intervening on behalf of the Bennet family. Elizabeth was relieved he had owed it to his perceived duty for having failed to expose Wickham to the people in Meryton and to nothing more.
The secret of my broken engagement is safe.
Her aunt also made some mention of a Mrs. Younge with a vague account of her having been Miss Darcy’s companion who had been subsequently discharged from her duties.
Of course, Mr. Darcy would seek out that woman for information on Wickham’s whereabouts. Once a partner in duplicity, always a partner in duplicity. No one knew that better than Mr. Darcy, having trusted either of them at various time during their unpleasant pasts. How fortunate that Mrs. Younge was so easily persuaded to betray her contemptible cohort.
Elizabeth could only wonder about the means Mr. Darcy might have employed.
The rest of the letter, Elizabeth read in silence, half embarrassed by all Wickham and Lydia had subjected Mr. Darcy to, but mostly affected by the latter’s unparalleled goodness. At length, she came to the end of the letter, and she was so touched by what her aunt had to say, that she quietly reread it.
“Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying how much I like him? Mr. Darcy’s behavior to us was pleasing in every respect. His understanding and opinions all please me, and I am given to believe he wants nothing but a little more liveliness, and that, if he marries prudently, his wife may teach him.
“Having garnered a far better understanding of Mr. Darcy’s character and knowing all I do about you, I should like to say with the utmost conviction that the two of you are designed for each other. And while I thought him very sly for hardly ever mentioning your name, I am given to consider that slyness seems the fashion.
“Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so far as to exclude me from Pemberley. Having admired it from afar for the better part of my past, I shall never be quite happy till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton, with a nice little pair of ponies, would be the very thing.”
The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greater share. Mr. Darcy despised Mr. Wickham. He barely knew Lydia. Yet he had been the means of affording them both a greater outcome than their foolish behavior might otherwise have allowed. And despite her having released him from the obligation of marrying her, Elizabeth’s heart softly whispered that all he had done, he had done for her.
Chapter 29
Forgiveness to Matrimony
No one was more excited upon hearing the news that Netherfield was soon to be occupied again than Mrs. Bennet. In her busy mind, it meant but one thing.
“Mr. Bingley is coming back for my Jane. Oh, I always knew she was not so beautiful for nothing.” Then the memory of how Mr. Bingley and her Jane had squandered not one but two perfectly good opportunities to become man and wife encroached on her felicity.
“I shall not allow the same thing to happen again. I shall do everything in my power to force them to do what everyone expects them to do.”
First, it was absolutely necessary for Mr. Bennet to call on Netherfield. Upon listening to his wife’s ardent application that he do so, the gentleman responded, “I most definitely will not call on the young man. If Mr. Bingley wants our society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend my hours running after my neighbors every time they go away and come back again.”
Mrs. Bennet should have known she could not count on her husband to help her. If she wanted to have anything done at all, she must do it herself. Thus, her planning and scheming began. Mr. Bingley had promised to take a family dinner with the Bennets when he was last in the vicinity. She would make sure he did.
Hunting immediately sprang to mind. What gentleman did not have a preference for the sport?
When Mr. Bingley has killed all his own birds, I shall insist that he comes here to shoot as many birds as he pleases on Mr. Bennet’s manor. I am sure Mr. Bennet will be vastly happy to oblige the young man, for it is the very least he can do, and he will save all the best of the covies for him too.
Everything that she could reasonably do to encourage Mr. Bingley’s affections for Jane, she planned to do. The only thing that was left to be done was to get him to call on Longbourn.
Perhaps if Mrs. Bennet had known that calling on Longbourn was Mr. Bingley’s primary reason for returning to Netherfield, she
might not have nearly fallen from her chair when she and her daughter Kitty espied the gentleman enter the paddock and ride towards the house.
“There is a gentleman with him, Mama,” said Kitty. “Who can it be?”
“Some acquaintance or other I suppose. But what does it matter? Mr. Bingley has come!”
“La!” replied Kitty seconds later. “It looks just like that man that used to be with him before. Mr. what’s-his-name. That tall, proud man.”
“Good gracious! It is Mr. Darcy!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, her voice a mixture of astonishment and disappointment. She scoffed. “Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure. But I must say that I hate the very sight of him.”
Soon the gentlemen were shown into the room, and all the civilities that such an occasion called for were exchanged. Mrs. Bennet was far too anxious to see her favorite wish unfold to allow for the passage of too much time after that.
What is menial conversation compared to matchmaking and matrimony?
Mrs. Bennet had a wedding to start planning for and wedding clothes to order. She could hardly wait for her eldest to be alone with the handsome Mr. Bingley in order to afford the young man a chance to make Jane the much-delayed, long overdue proposal of marriage.
I shall recommend that Jane show Mr. Bingley the view from Oakham Mount. I am sure he has never seen it. At the very least he has not seen that particular view with Jane. But what in heavens am I to do about his friend?
Mrs. Bennet’s ill opinion of Mr. Bingley’s friend was formed almost from the moment she met him. He was far too proud and above his company for her taste. How the charming Mr. Bingley could consider such a haughty man a friend was beyond her comprehension. She pondered the matter for a few moments wondering which of her daughters might be able to tolerate the proud man for so long. The walk back and forth to Oakham Mount was no small feat. And then it dawned on her.
Let Lizzy take Mr. Darcy off Mr. Bingley’s hands. They never liked each other. What better retribution for both of them: him for deriding my daughter as not being handsome enough to tempt him and her for spurning Mr. Collins’s offer of marriage.
No sooner than it was suggested, Mr. Bingley and Jane and Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were on their way.
* * *
Having listened intently to Mr. Bingley’s heartfelt plea and repeated requests for assurance that she had indeed accepted his apology, Jane decided to put an end to his misery.
“I do forgive you, sir,” she said as the two of them walked ahead of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, having outpaced them by far.
Bingley’s delight in hearing this was written all over his face. “Oh! Thank you, Miss Bennet. You cannot possibly know what having your forgiveness means to me. I cannot help but consider it the surest step towards the two of us finally moving on toward the happiness we were always meant to enjoy—together.”
“Sir,” Jane implored, “I am sorry to say I do not share your sentiment in that regard.”
“But how can you say such a thing? You said you forgive me for the manner in which I behaved last year.”
“And I did—I mean to say, I do. But in an instant, your mind seemed to leap from forgiveness to matrimony, just as I feared, unless I have misread your intentions.”
“I believe you read my sentiments perfectly clear. I mean to make you my wife—just as I should have done so many months ago.”
“Then, I fear you have misread my sentiments. When I consider those qualities that I would wish to find in my future husband, I must confess to wanting a man who will, forsaking all others, put no one else above me. A man who will do his best to move heaven and earth if he thought that is what it might take to please me. I believe I deserve no less.”
“I can be that man if you will but let me. Pray, give me another chance to prove how much you mean to me. I promise you that you will never have cause for regret. Marry me and make me the happiest man in all of England. Must I get down on bended knees?”
Jane knew the most sensible thing in the world to do was simply say yes to Mr. Bingley’s ardent proposal. There was no reason at all to suppose she would not be just as happy with him as any other gentleman.
Any other gentleman. How unfair to compare him to another? Mr. Bingley is young—not much older than I am in fact. He has not seen and done so many of the same things as other men. The manner of man who is worldlier and far wiser. More mature.
I am certain he thinks he loves me—just as I am sure I was genuinely in love with him at one time.
She was almost three and twenty and, theretofore, no one had ever asked her to marry. What if no one ever asks me again?
Faced with the most consequential decision in her life, Jane did not know how she should feel or how she should act. Must I not act in accordance with the best interest of my family as I was reared to act?
I am the eldest. I really ought to marry. I can leave my father’s house. I would have a home of my own. I would be married to a respectable man, an amiable man—a man with five thousand pounds a year. A man whom I once loved—whom I might just as easily love again.
I should say yes—I really should say yes. But I cannot bring myself to do so until I am persuaded beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am accepting Mr. Bingley for all the right reasons.
Surely he deserves no less.
She heard herself ask, “May I—will you allow me some time to think about it?”
For the first time in a long time, Jane saw in his face a semblance of the young man she had given her heart to unconditionally. He replied, “I truly believe my being your husband is my destiny. I do not think my life will ever be what it ought to be so long as the two of us are apart.
“You have asked for more time. So be it. But say you will do anything but make me wait in vain, for I have confessed my heart’s most sacred desire to you, along with my promise that I will never do anything to disappoint you again.”
Chapter 30
What Better Way
Walking alone with Elizabeth again, after being parted from her for so long, there was so much Mr. Darcy wanted to say to her. Yet, save the brief discussions of threadbare topics, silence loomed between the two of them as thick as the clouds hovering high above.
He was meant to be the most reserved of the two of them. He was known for his taciturn nature. Not Elizabeth. Elizabeth was lively—so full of life and good spirited and those times when she was neither was cause for concern.
A part of him felt that Elizabeth blamed him for the Wickham and Lydia debacle. I would not fault her if she did blame me. Had I only exposed Wickham’s character to Mr. Bennet, he might have exercised more diligence where his youngest daughter is concerned.
No longer able to abide the silence between them, Darcy told Elizabeth as much.
“I do not blame you,” Elizabeth said after hearing Mr. Darcy’s heartfelt confession and his accompanying apology. “If anything, I blame myself. Had I been less enamored of Mr. Wickham, perhaps my sister would have been more apt to follow my lead—certainly my father might have viewed the gentleman with greater circumspect.”
Darcy placed a finger to her lips. “The irony in all this is your sister supposes herself the happiest woman in all of England. As for Wickham, let me just say he received more than he bargained for and certainly more than he deserved—a new start in New Castle, unencumbered by his past debts, a commission as opposed to time in debtor’s prison.”
“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, neither of them have cause to complain. And with that being the case, why should either of us be discontented?”
“My thoughts exactly. Elizabeth, my love, I have missed you terribly. Say you will marry me and make my greatest wish come true.”
After some pause which was far longer than he might have wished, but sooner than he dared hope, Elizabeth took his hand in hers. “I will. I will marry you, my love. I never wish to be parted from you again.”
Although she had accepted his proposal be
fore, the happiness which this reply produced was such as he had not felt the first time. The first time they were in the company of others, and her reply had not been made without a measure of interference on his cousin’s part.
This reply was more tender and more heartfelt and better than that, there was not a room full of watchful eyes to temper the violence of his affection for her.
Darcy drew her into his arms and kissed her passionately; a kiss meant to make up for all the time they had spent apart from each other.
Having kissed her so many times before, everything he knew about her informed him that something had changed. He expressed his concern with her in so many words.
“If there is something wrong, you must know you can tell me what it is,” he said, concluding his speech.
She shrugged a little. “Sir, I am not certain how I ought to behave with you.”
“How do you want to behave?”
“Like nothing ever happened—that what occurred with Lydia never took place, that I had not released you from our engagement as a result.”
“I am willing to forget all that, my love.”
“Can you? Surely you must think of me as a wanton woman—no different from Lydia…”
“It is forgotten,” Darcy interrupted. “And as for how you ought to behave when we are together, I only ask that you be true to yourself. I do not judge you, and I certainly do not believe you are wanton. You and I are so similar. We are both passionate. We are lovers. And seeing that we are engaged to be married—to spend the rest of our lives together, what better way to start than as lovers?
“Just because the two of us have been exploring our love for each other in a manner that some might frown upon does not place your conduct on par with your sister’s.
