by Beth Poppet
Mr Darcy took the opportunity to address Miss Bennet, asking her directly if he might introduce her to his sister at some future date while they still remained at Netherfield. Mrs Bennet took this as a great sign of his singling her Lizzy out and was about to make an answer for her, but to her credit Lizzy spoke prettily enough in accepting such an honour—if not as eagerly as Mrs Bennet would have liked.
Elizabeth wondered if this was to be the order of things at every societal interaction with Mr Darcy thereafter; Mrs Bennet forcing him and Elizabeth together, Mr Darcy bearing it with amazing civility in a way that not only astounded Elizabeth but stirred something within her that was more than mere gratitude. She wondered what Caroline Bingley would say to such proceedings, and how she and her mother might find themselves at odds in the meantime.
This thought caused her to smile a little to herself; or rather, she imagined it was to herself, but Mr Darcy caught the subtle expression of mirth and was beside himself with wondering what it could possibly be regarding. The desire to say something—anything—that might get them alone without undermining virtue caused him increasing discomfort. The harder he thought, the more silent he became, the graver he appeared, and unbeknownst to him this spiral of severity put him in great danger of losing Mrs Bennet’s newly formed good opinion of him.
Astonishingly, it was she who saved him by suggesting rather impertinently that she was only sorry he had not come a little later as her daughters were just going for a walk when he arrived. It was a great pity indeed that they would have to forgo such pleasant ambles until later in the day.
To this, Mr Darcy only frowned, understanding there was opportunity here, but finding himself incapable of understanding the nuances of vague politeness that would bring his desires in alignment with Mrs Bennet’s hinting.
“Perhaps, Mr Darcy…” Mrs Bennet prompted, “You have some business in Meryton that you would not like to put off until a later day?”
“Mother!” Elizabeth hissed under her breath.
Mr Darcy was utterly confounded. Was Mrs Bennet trying to extract him from her house? She did not seem the type to chase gentlemen away by subtle insults. If she truly wished him gone, she might make some exaggerated display of disinterest and insult him indirectly but with obvious malcontent.
“No, I have no urgent business to attend to in Meryton,” he replied in perfect honesty.
Elizabeth grew fearful that if this went on much longer her mother might soon renew her dislike of Mr Darcy and insult him terribly, or—and she could not tell which would be the worse of the two—ask him outright if he had any intention of marrying soon, for if so he could not do better than aligning himself with one of her daughters.
“Mr Darcy,” she tried, hoping desperately that he would not think her too forward, “Do you still enjoy surveying the beauties of our countryside on foot?”
Relieved to be addressed by the sole person he cared to be in conversation with, he replied, “I do, when the weather suits.”
“Do you consider this to be suitable weather for such pursuits?” she questioned with some measure of expectation.
It dawned on him that the object was to have him escort the young ladies on a walk. He reproached himself soundly for not seeing it at the start and wondered why he could see immediately through Caroline’s schemes but was utterly at a loss amongst these Bennet women.
“I do,” he answered decidedly. “In fact, I consider this to be the perfect weather for a stroll… eh, perhaps towards Meryton, after all. If Miss Bennet and Miss Catherine would care to accompany me,” he nodded to each in turn, “I should be delighted to take some of the country air while the clear skies hold.”
This sent Mrs Bennet into raptures and she was so delighted over Mr Darcy’s suggestion as to sound unintentionally condescending. Her manner was so like Mr Collins that Elizabeth could scarcely don her bonnet and spencer fast enough for her satisfaction. Kitty tarried a moment in fiddling with the ribbon on her own bonnet, and Elizabeth yanked it free to retie it again with such violent force that Kitty thought her to be angry.
“What is wrong, Lizzy? What have I done? Do you not like this bonnet on me? Lydia always said it was a frightful colour for my complexion, but I always thought that was because she wanted it for herself.”
“Oh, there is nothing amiss with your bonnet, Kitty. I am merely anxious to be out of doors,” her eyes flickered to her mother who still insisted on regaling Mr Darcy with stories of her youth and walks of yesteryears.
Kitty lowered her voice and said conspiratorially, “Is it Mama?”
Elizabeth made the final touches in adjusting Kitty’s bonnet and offered her a sly smile of confirmation. “It is certainly not you that I wish to escape.”
“Nor Mr Darcy, either, I suspect,” Kitty giggled, and though Lizzy shushed her while her face betrayed her with another reddening of the cheeks, there was not the usual glint of disapproval in her expression.
Kitty was feeling rather bonded to her sister at present and did not leave Lizzy’s side, preventing her from walking alone with Mr Darcy and limiting her ability to touch on the subjects she truly wished to. As they set off down the gravel drive, she assured Mr Darcy that he was not obligated to escort them to the village.
“We need not go as far as Meryton,” she said. “My mother can be… overwhelming in her fervour. I hope you will not take offense at her, or my forwardness in prompting our walk.”
“It is perfectly natural for a mother to desire the best for her children,” he said with mischief in his smirk, “Though her methods are not wholly… satisfactory, I believe she acts with pure motives.”
“You give her more credit that I, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth sighed despairingly. “I confess, I find my mother to be entirely mercenary, and I do not think she is at all sensible in her machinations.”
“Then you disapprove of her object?” he asked, raising a single brow.
Elizabeth did not have a ready answer for such a question and diverted it with a playful laugh. “You ask as if you’ve determined what her object is! I… can only hazard to guess at it myself, but I am certain she will make it all known upon our return when she interrogates me over our conversation and picks apart every word and retaliation. She was very eager this morning for us to make our way to Netherfield as soon as propriety allowed, but at the time I assumed it was due to Mr Bingley’s recent status of bachelorhood being known.” She tested Mr Darcy with this revelation, hoping to gain a better understanding of his own designs. His repentance of his previous regard for her may have been in light of a secret wish that she would become the wife of his closest friend, and his desire to introduce her to Miss Darcy based on the hope that they would still be much in the same company.
Mr Darcy’s expression betrayed little besides a curious thoughtfulness. She could not know that it was Mr Bingley’s words that rang in his ears at present and the charge not to let the foolishness of previous objections prevent him from gaining Miss Bennet as his bride. In light of his friend’s admonition, Darcy had done his utmost to view the absurdities of Mrs Bennet as fleeting discomforts, endured in brief intervals between catching the fine eyes of her spirited daughter. Mrs Bennet, however was surprisingly warm in her reception of him, and now that he was aware of her desire in regard to Mr Bingley and Miss Elizabeth Bennet he supposed a pretence of civility towards him on account of Mr Bingley was better than none at all. Knowing too that Miss Bennet was in no danger of receiving an offer from his friend, he felt little risk in her mother’s matchmaking schemes.
He dearly wished to know of Miss Bennet’s state of mind on the subject and whether she felt obligated to pursue such a match on her mother’s insistence; whether too she might be persuaded to accept him by familial obligation instead, or if her feelings about him were unchanged from their heated discourse at Hunsford. But rather than supply her with a spoken renewal of his deepening affections while Miss Catherine followed merely a step behind them, Mr Darcy was forced to reply
in wholly unromantic terms.
“Shall we walk towards Netherfield rather than to Meryton then? I know Mr Bingley would be glad to see you both and I could make the introductions between you and my sister.” Finding Miss Elizabeth’s sarcastic wit to be infectious, he added, “Unless you believe your mother might object.”
“Mr Darcy, I believe such a visit will bring my mother into a state of good humour that she is not likely to recover from in at least the next three days. However, if she discovers that it was you who suggested it you may be subjected to a vast number of dinner invitations that you are not likely to recover from.”
“Then I best ensure my horse grows used to the route to Longbourn,” he replied without irony.
Elizabeth could do little more than blink in her astonishment. This was not the behaviour of a man who looked down upon her family and considered them a degradation to be associated with. Her longing to know once and for all if he was the benefactor who made Lydia’s marriage possible was renewed.
They fell into a strained silence and would have remained so if not for Kitty’s occasional declaration or question directed to Lizzy. Elizabeth did her best to behave naturally and be at ease, but she could not help feeling Mr Darcy’s presence as a reason to be on her guard.
“I have never walked so far in this direction,” Kitty remarked. “Except when Mr Bingley first arrived here last year, and Lydia and I would race to that hill yonder and see who could catch a glimpse of him first to tell Mama.” Such a harmless confession usually caused Lizzy to laugh and poke fun at either her sisters or their neighbours, but Kitty could not fathom why she was so silent now.
“Are you disapproving of me, Lizzy?” she frowned. “You know you used to come this way yourself for the exact same purpose. Wasn’t it you who first met Mr Bingley and told Mama that he was the most agreeable man you had ever met?”
A mixture of jealousy and amusement roiled up within Mr Darcy, yet he could not regret the way Miss Catherine’s unrestrained honesty caused Miss Elizabeth to blush crimson. He decided to put her to the test and see if she coloured only for mention of Mr Bingley, or if she was chagrined by her sister’s comments in general.
“That was also the occasion I first made your acquaintance, Miss Bennet,” he interjected, voice devoid of emotion. “You must have been thoroughly unimpressed by me.”
“But that is not true!” Kitty cried, while to Mr Darcy’s great pleasure, Elizabeth did indeed maintain the flush upon her cheeks. “Lizzy said you were by far the handsomer of the two, and the more learned, though a little difficult to speak to at the first.”
“Kitty,” she exclaimed, “what is spoken in the privacy of sisterly confidence should not be repeated at the slightest provocation!”
Kitty sulked, murmuring a quiet, “It is not a lie, nor is it offensive, so I don’t see why you should object to my telling of it.” She looked a little fearfully up at their walking companion. “Shall you be cross with me too, Mr Darcy?”
“Your sister is right to be concerned for the preservation of her privacy.” Kitty studied her feet, on the verge of tears. “However,” he said with the beginnings of what might be considered a smile, “In this instance I fear I must play the hypocrite and thank you for enlightening me on the nature of your sister’s first impressions, for I might not have discovered it otherwise.”
Kitty’s tears were blessedly kept back at this singular confession, Elizabeth threw herself into merry conversation to deflect from the subject of her private musings, and the entire party was received at Netherfield dry-eyed and mostly recovered from the embarrassment of an over-eager mother.
Mr Bingley was, as ever, most gratified to see the Miss Bennets again, gaining additional favour with Kitty for remembering her favourite colour was canary yellow and noticing the ribbon on her bonnet was in such a bright and cheerful hue.
“No one ever seems to remember my preferences, except for Jane,” she said with a slight pout.
“Well, all credit goes to your sister after all, as it was she who told me once that she worked on a present for you in that very colour. I daresay,” he went on in his usual self-abasement, “an absentminded fellow such as myself isn’t usually apt to remember these things. But she made the needlework sound so fascinating… you know, I never knew there were so many different kinds of stiches before!”
“Oh, dear, sweet Jane!” Kitty lamented. “She never gave up on my stitching and sat with me for hours until I got my spacing just so. I’ll never be as good as her, but I hope I do her credit in the lessons she gave me at least.”
“I am sure you do, Miss Kitty! Much more credit than I gave my riding master, certainly.” Mr Bingley made a joke about his current condition speaking louder than words and brought to mind another conversation between him and the eldest Miss Bennet as she was at the time.
While Mr Bingley and Kitty were speaking in roundabout ways of Jane’s admirable qualities, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy had entered the room. Mr Darcy wasted no time in bringing two of his favourite persons into each other’s acquaintance.
“Miss Bennet,” he said hastily, before the colonel could make the introduction, “may I present to you my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam suppressed a chuckle at his cousin’s eagerness, but received only a glower for his efforts, as he was unable to keep the mischievous smirk from spreading across his face.
Elizabeth was glad to finally be in fellowship with a lady she had imagined many times over, yet never seen in person. “I am so glad we are finally meeting,” she said, smiling warmly at the young Miss Darcy, “I have heard so much about you, and nothing but praise and commendation.”
“No, indeed, it is you who I have heard praised almost constantly by my brother who is not a person known to exaggerate. I feel as if I know you already, and…” she grew hesitant and stumbled over the next, “If I do not presume too much, I believe we shall be very good friends.”
“I have no doubt that we shall,” she replied with no little joy, the exchange encouraging Mr Darcy immensely who smiled throughout its entirety. “Though I cannot imagine what your brother finds to praise in me,” she went on with a provoking glance towards him, “as I am not particularly gifted at either music, embroidery, or drawing. Especially the latter. All my sketches were given up on at a very early stage. One in particular was meant to be a garden scene, though it looked as if the groundskeeper had been a clumsy giant that didn’t know a bud from a bulb.” She laughed at her own self-deprecation, putting Georgiana immediately at ease.
Mr Darcy was grateful for the pleasant and easy way Miss Elizabeth carried on, drawing out Georgiana’s thoughts and preferences with very little difficulty. He heard his sister expressing opinions he had never known her to possess as she said so little to him on any of the matters the two ladies discussed in light conversation. None of this was any surprise to Colonel Fitzwilliam, of course. He was well aware of his young charge and her opinions, and no less aware of Miss Bennet’s natural ease in conversing. The two gentlemen were much gratified when Miss Bennet suggested Georgiana play for them all, and even more so when she offered to turn the pages for her. This allowed both gentlemen to sit within proper viewing distance of the player and the assistant, and gaze upon the objects of their affection without suspicion.
Caroline Bingley was also present, and particularly unhappy with the way both the colonel and Mr Darcy appeared to be looking so intently at Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She wished to draw them out of such a ridiculous stupor and remind them of the various marks against Miss Bennet as a possible match. With so many examples to draw from it took her several measures before she was quite decided on the method of attack, but once settled on her designs she found it quite easy to slip her remarks into polite conversation.
“Miss Catherine,” she began, not missing the way the younger sister’s eyes widened with fear to be directly addressed by her, “You must be feeling quite bereft not to have your youngest sister with y
ou any longer. I hear she is newly married and gone already to Newcastle.”
“Yes, Madam. I miss her a great deal. Of all my sisters, she was the closest to me, and she left for Brighton just after the regiment, making it harder to bear.”
“Of course. The removal of the regiment was such a loss for all five-and-twenty families in Hertfordshire to bear,” she said with a snide tone. “But we were all so astonished to hear of who her husband is. We had always imagined your elder sister, Miss Elizabeth would have been the one for George Wickham.”
At the mention of his name, Georgiana stumbled in her playing, making a sour note quite evident in an otherwise perfect execution. Mr Darcy started from his seat as if to rescue his sister and the Colonel glared menacingly at Miss Bingley, though if she noticed she pretended not to.
“I am so sorry,” Elizabeth remarked loudly at Georgiana’s side. “I have failed to turn the page properly for you! How clumsy! You see, this is why I am a hopeless musician. I cannot even read the notes while another plays!”
Georgiana’s mouth had gone dry, and she was unable to speak her response aloud, but her look of chagrin was soothed by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s mime of a pistol pointed in Miss Bingley’s direction. No one saw it but her, and it bolstered her spirits, allowing her to complete the piece with no more mistakes despite Caroline’s continued baiting of Miss Catherine Bennet from across the room.
Another look was exchanged in the moment of urgency; one of unspeakable gratitude and relief from Mr Darcy, offered to the knowing eyes of Elizabeth whose charming nature and evident compassion were making the inconveniences of her relations seem less insurmountable by the second.
Chapter Twenty
It was several weeks before the beginning of October, and Lizzy had the singular pleasure—if pleasure it could be considered—of receiving a letter from Mr Collins. He had fallen ill after visiting one of his suffering parishioners and was advised not to tend his wife in the last month leading up to her travails lest he bring his affliction upon her and the infant. His desire was that his dear sister Elizabeth return to Hunsford and help care for Jane up through the birth of their child.
