Mr. Darcy & Elizabeth

by Alyssa Jefferson

  Tea was called for at once, for Mrs. Gardiner would not hear of her guests going up to their own chambers before she had ensured they were well-fed and rested. The journey from the school had not been long, but all journeys are taxing to some degree, and her detailed attention to the girls’ comfort made them feel even more at home than they often felt at Longbourn.

  “I believe it is unusual,” Mrs. Gardiner said when the girls were settled with their tea in her drawing room, “to begin a visit in this fashion. I would suggest we spend a morning making calls, but you have lived in London for months, and therefore it cannot be expected of you to behave as though you are newly arrived. However, you must have friends who are unaware of your living arrangements. I would never forgive myself if your residence with me served as a means of isolating you from those you care about most! While I hope we shall all become very good friends, I am well aware that at present, I am little more than a stranger to you.”

  “Nonsense!” Elizabeth cried. “We have corresponded for months, Aunt. I feel as much acquainted with you as any of my friends here—or at least, enough to be very eager to know you better.”

  The warmth with which this was spoken, coupled with the lively expression in Elizabeth’s eye, made her aunt smile and say, “My feelings are just the same as yours. I told Edward how delighted I was to have the opportunity to invite you both to stay with me at last. I wish we had become acquainted much sooner! Yet I will not be selfish; I will not keep you entirely to myself. Come, there must be some friends you wish to call upon. You cannot always be at home.”

  Jane, whose delicacy of mind and manner made her reluctant to accept any offer that might cause her aunt the smallest inconvenience, thanked her for her kindness and assured her that such measures were unnecessary.

  “But,” Elizabeth added with a sideways glance at Jane, “we would be grateful for the opportunity to call on a few of our friends, if it is not too inconvenient.”

  “Not at all!” Mrs. Gardiner cried. “On the contrary, I should be delighted to become acquainted with any friends of yours.”

  For her part, Elizabeth had no intention of giving up the society she had always had while staying with her aunt and uncle. She saw no reason for such ceremony. Having a generous spirit, she instantly wished to make her aunt acquainted with all her friends, and their friends, and all the best of everybody and everything that she could provide. Her enthusiasm could only be tempered by a word of warning from Jane, only spoken that morning, that she should allow her aunt’s preferences to be their principle guide while she was their hostess.

  “Do not forget, Lizzy,” Jane gently admonished, “that there are places in town where our acceptance is largely contingent upon our address.”

  Mr. Gardiner, when he had returned from a bit of morning business, had news that made an agreeable morning even more pleasant to the girls. “I have found,” he said as he seated himself beside his wife, “that a very good concert is to be held at Vauxhall this afternoon. Ought we to attend?”

  Elizabeth’s love of music far exceeded Jane’s, being herself a very accomplished pianist, but it was the elder sister who answered first. “Is there indeed? It has been ages since we have been to Vauxhall.”

  Vauxhall Park, replete with every kind of enjoyment, was one place where those in trade and those in more affluent circumstances could engage equally. The girls and their sisters had gone repeatedly with their stepmother and father when they were in town, but there was no reason why their aunt and uncle would not be appropriate chaperones there, as well.

  Enthusiastically, Elizabeth said to her uncle, “You must be like me—you must be a fan of music. I suppose you do not know that I play piano and harp, and I like to listen to music even better. Indeed, there is nothing I like better than a concert! Pray tell me, do you like music very much?” And they spoke on in this manner until it was time to depart, each eager to love the other and satisfied that the other was just as eager.

  Mr. Gardiner’s carriage brought the party with their own picnic fare, and as they crossed Westminster Bridge, Elizabeth began to appreciate the sounds of the city fading from her ears. Having spent the first decade of her life living in the country, she had never quite become as fond of the populous London landscapes as she was of the open, clean air of Longbourn. As a girl, she had run about the grounds of their estate and spent the better part of every day in her father’s garden. Now, their approach to the gardens at Vauxhall made images of the happiest years of her life dance before her eyes. She longed to be out of the carriage and into the warm light of the sun at last.

  The park certainly answered. It was a light, temperate day, and the girls—now dressed in muslin gowns and wide-brimmed bonnets—could see and be seen by all. The concert music was soon to begin, and Mrs. Gardiner was engaged in supervising the servants with the party’s refreshments when Jane turned suddenly toward Elizabeth, the smile that had been on her face rapidly fading away.

  “Lizzy,” she whispered, “who is that man under the tree?”

  Elizabeth frowned and looked where Jane had just been directing her gaze, curious but too happy to be particularly anxious. “Where?”

  “Just behind us,” Jane said, with eyes fixed on the ground below. She wrung her hands. “Do not let him see you looking at him. But I believe it may be Mr. Pembroke.”

  So it was. Elizabeth now saw exactly the man Jane had espied, standing rather far away but unmistakably the man whose proposal her sister had rejected only a week before.

  “It is him,” Elizabeth confirmed, “but he does not see us. He is with his friends.”

  Watching him longer, Elizabeth saw that he had two men with him—one a short, rather stout gentleman with beady eyes, and the other a taller gentleman whom Elizabeth saw, when he turned his head, was extremely handsome, though his face was rather more serious than one might expect from a visitor to the pleasure grounds.

  “He does not see you,” Elizabeth repeated after a moment. “Do not worry about him; he will not come this way, I am sure.”

  “How can you be sure?” Jane whispered. “He could come wherever he chooses. Oh, I wish we had settled nearer the concert stage!”

  The party, guided by Mrs. Gardiner’s preferences, had made their picnic on a hill near enough to hear the music, but not close enough that the orchestra should overpower their conversations. It was, at the time, a very agreeable idea to both girls. Jane in particular had noted all that was commendable in her aunt’s wish to continue getting to know her nieces better. However, it now seemed that the positioning of their party would make them vulnerable to seeing the one person whom Jane most wished to avoid. She hated having disappointed Mr. Pembroke; it would have been better to her sense of delicacy never to see him again.

  “Perhaps I ought to greet him,” she said softly.

  “What?” Elizabeth cried. “But why? He cannot wish to speak to you, Jane, I am sure. Let it be; there is no sense in confusing the matter by distinguishing him with your notice now.”

  “Distinguishing him with my notice?” Jane repeated. “He is the one who has distinguished me. Though our stepmother is of noble blood, we are not at all of equal status with him—a fact I am sure he never forgot. He always mentioned to me how delighted he would be to elevate me by—” She paused, and Elizabeth scoffed.

  “Yes, that is something he would say,” Elizabeth said. “He would say he wanted to do you a favor. I am more and more convinced that you did right by refusing him, Jane. He is not the kind of man who is capable of loving—really loving—a sensible and deserving woman. He thinks only about himself.”

  “Never mind that,” Jane said. “There can be no changing it now, anyhow.” With increasing urgency, she said, “But what is to be done now? Should I approach him or not?”

  “Not!” Elizabeth cried. “I have already told you what I think. I believe what is more important is what you think. You would not have asked again if you were satisfied with my first answer. Jane, why do you wa
nt to speak to him?”

  Her elder sister looked over her shoulder at the man who had wanted to marry her, surreptitiously raising her gaze to his face for only a moment before turning back, a crimson blush on her cheeks. “He was so angry,” she whispered, “after receiving my letter. I should never have written to him; he thought it was a confirmation of our engagement until he opened the letter. Miss Watson told me that his servant said he was furious.”

  “All the more reason not to go to him now,” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “No, no,” Jane said, “that is just the opposite of my feelings! I am conscious of having pained him; I do not believe I have done wrong, but I am sure he thinks I have done wrong. Would not it be wiser to go to him now and make amends, rather than allowing bad feelings to fester?”

  “Bad feelings in cases such as these are the norm, I am afraid,” Elizabeth said. By now, the girls’ conversation had drawn the attention of their uncle, who was watching from a short distance away. Not wanting to be observed, Elizabeth lowered her voice and said to Jane, “You have made your choice, Jane, and he will never be happy with it. You will both do better to let it be.”

  But the advice of a sister two years her junior who had never, in fact, had any serious suitors—had never been in love in her life—could not satisfy the delicacy of the elder sister’s mind. “As his friend, then,” Jane said, “should I not speak to him? Is it not my duty to—”

  “Duty!” Elizabeth cried, almost forgetting her resolution to be discreet. “I do not see how duty—”

  “Not duty, then, but decency!” Jane replied. “Is not it decent, at the very least, to greet him as a person who has always been my friend—at least, since I have known him?”

  Elizabeth knew enough of her sister’s disposition to know that Mr. Pembroke’s friendship was not quite what Jane was after; rather, she longed for his good opinion. She could not bear to be on bad terms with anybody, and her stepmother’s feelings, too, had altered her own.

  “You do not know,” Elizabeth said, “whether he would be open to an interview. Our aunt and uncle do not know him; it cannot be proper to approach him now, in any case. What ought to be done is of little consequence when one considers what can be done.”

  “You are right; I will not approach him,” Jane said, eyes brightening with relief to have the decision removed from her hands. “I will merely let him see me. He can determine what he will do.”

  Elizabeth, well aware that Jane knew this was by no means her intention when she had made her point, said nothing. If her sister had less tender a heart, she might have been able to bear an indifferent passing near a man who had once professed his love for her. If she wanted to restore a good footing with Mr. Pembroke, then there was nothing Elizabeth could do but hope that nothing would be made worse by it.

  Though the park had its usual large mid-day crowd, the two parties were near enough to each other that it was only minutes before Mr. Pembroke observed Jane among the neighboring parties. She had tilted back her bonnet, making her face visible in the sparkling daylight, and she came nearer to where Mrs. Gardiner was still directing the servants—directly in Mr. Pembroke’s line of sight. Her efforts had their effect; he looked up, and when his eyes fell on her, he frowned. Elizabeth looked at Jane, whose smile never faltered, though Elizabeth thought she saw fear in her eyes.

  Pity overtaking awkwardness, Elizabeth joined Jane where she stood. “There, now,” she whispered, “he has seen you. Now let us go back to our uncle.”

  Mr. Pembroke looked up again, however, and both Elizabeth and Jane fell silent as he bowed to his friends, then turned and walked toward the ladies.

  “Oh!” Jane cried. “He is coming!” The color faded from her cheeks, and Elizabeth truly felt for her. If only Jane could resist the impulse to be on good terms with everybody! Nothing good could come from speaking to Mr. Pembroke now, Elizabeth was absolutely certain. Yet, a meeting now seemed inevitable.

  “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Pembroke said, bowing as he came nearer to them. “How do you do?”

  “Very well, I thank you,” Jane said, smiling earnestly. “That is, I mean to say—quite well. We are, or I am. I do not presume to speak for my sister.”

  Elizabeth managed to interject a calmer, “How do you do, sir?” to Mr. Pembroke following Jane’s speech, and was pleased when her sister’s former suitor had a civil, though not particularly cheerful, answer.

  “I am very well, though the weather today is far too hot! I would not have come to a concert in this weather, but my friends have invited me, that we might discuss a matter of business. It is all a very dull business, however; nothing that would interest you.”

  “Certainly,” Jane said, still smiling in a manner that convinced Elizabeth she had heard nothing Mr. Pembroke had said.

  Elizabeth said, “We do not wish to take you from your friends, particularly when important matters are at hand.”

  “I shall return in a moment,” he replied casually. “I have told them I will return. I offered to introduce them, but they did not wish—” he paused. “In any case, you need not be uneasy, Miss.”

  The insulting insinuation, barely concealed, made Elizabeth’s face redden, and Mr. Pembroke seemed to relish the opportunity to see how Jane had borne it—but it seemed again that Jane had not heard it, or if she had, that the offense had not registered. She said, “I am glad we are able to meet as friends, sir. I hope we shall—”

  “I ought to get back to my party,” Mr. Pembroke said abruptly, and though he reached out to shake both ladies’ hands, he did not look either of them in the eye, and the modicum of civility he had shown before seemed to have worn off. “Good day to you both.”

  He turned and was gone in such a rush that Jane could hardly collect her thoughts enough to speak before Elizabeth overheard him say to his party, who had moved closer upon seeing him bid the ladies adieu, “There, that’s done with.”

  “I suppose she is pretty, Pembroke. Are her aunt and uncle truly in trade?” his companion could be heard saying. “And no other connections?”

  “None, except her stepmother—but that is not an inconsiderable connection.”

  The other gentleman shook his head. “Take it from me, Pembroke. An earl has no interest in his in-laws, and no such connection can do you any good. What do those young ladies have, except the appearance of good fashion without any actual consequence or breeding? From what you have told me, they are but country maidens with country connections—or worse. Are not they now chaperoned by a family in trade? What business have you to make love to a girl with such low connections? I was shocked when you offered to introduce us! But you are certainly better off without her.”

  The gentlemen walked too far away to be overheard any longer, and the last thing Elizabeth heard the before they disappeared to a hill beyond was Mr. Pembroke’s reply of, “Perhaps you are right, Darcy. Now, as to the business we had been discussing.”

  Elizabeth turned to Jane, whose face was now white, eyes shining.

  “Odious man!” Elizabeth said, “and odious friends! Do not think of them, Jane. Mr. Pembroke has not forgiven you for rejecting him; that is all. He wants to make you feel inferior. He is not the kind of man you ought to regret.”

  Jane silently agreed, but it was clear to her sister that she was unable to enjoy the concert after such a mortifying exchange. Elizabeth, however, was angrier at his friends than she was with Mr. Pembroke. The latter had every right to be upset, having endured a most mortifying rejection. But what did this other gentleman have against her and her sister? What right had he to disparage their connections and relations? Never had she been treated so shamefully by anybody. It was humiliating, if she took it to heart—but she resolved not to. There were always plenty of men interested in being introduced to her and her sister; it was of no consequence at all that this gentleman’s friends thought the introduction beneath them. It was significant only in proving how unworthy Mr. Pembroke and his friends were of a
ny further notice from the Bennet sisters. Certainly, Elizabeth would never notice them again. She resolved very seriously to be merry and enjoy herself the rest of the afternoon.

  CHAPTER 5

  __________

  Two months prior

  “Shall you tell Miss Whipple, or shall I,” Elizabeth asked her sister, “that we have very little hope of Lord Norwich attending this party?”

  Jane shook her head, smiling. “There is nothing to tell, Lizzy. She knows that we are only a little acquainted with our cousins. She does not seriously expect our going to be an enticement to him.”

  Elizabeth responded by lifting the letter, written in Miss Whipple’s own elegant hand, and reading aloud the words, “I am sure your coming will be an enticement to all your connections in town also to attend.”

  Jane laughed. “She is exaggerating, however.”

  “I am not unhappy to be invited,” Elizabeth added, turning back to her own wardrobe and looking, one by one, at her gowns. “It has been ages since we have gone to a party.”

  “We attended a private concert just last month,” Jane replied. “And we have been asked to two dinners with the Campbells since then, as well.”

  “I meant a party with dancing.” She touched a long-sleeved, gray dress with white lace trim. “I do not know why I ever bought this ugly thing.”

  “You did not buy it,” Miss Watson said, rising from the table where she had been composing a letter and joining Elizabeth at her wardrobe. “I bought it for you, and I am sure it will set off your eyes beautifully.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I would much rather wear something like this.” She reached for a royal blue gown that she had worn to two of the engagements Jane had just mentioned. “I love this gown.”