by Kay Bea
Several days later, Caroline was preparing for a distasteful visit to Longbourn. She had previously determined to learn more of the situation between Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza Bennet and, for all her vulgarity, Mrs Bennet was an unrepentant gossip. Caroline had no one else to ask and was growing desperate in her attempts. She was beginning to dread informing Lady Winslow of her failure. Her Ladyship made plain that her continued support depended upon Caroline’s success during this visit. If she could not find the means to end all hope of reconciliation between Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza, Caroline would find herself without a patroness. It was this thought above any other that set her feet to Longbourn.
One longer-than-usual call later, Caroline returned to Netherfield and sent a letter to her friend. Their association had proven profitable to Caroline, and now she had the information they required to see to the ruin of Eliza Bennet. She and Lady Winslow were a well-matched pair, each using the other for their own ends. One lady still harboured hopes of becoming the next mistress of Pemberley, and the other was satisfied to see it come to pass so long as it meant Darcy’s continued unhappiness. Caroline held no special regard for Lady Winslow but had come to depend on her alliance. Caroline had learned that Darcy had destroyed Her Ladyship’s chance of happiness when his refusal to marry her made it all but impossible to be near her beloved, Wickham. The steward’s son, no less! Lady Winslow’s misery would increase ten-fold when she learned Darcy had also sent Wickham far north.
Later that afternoon, Caroline overheard the end of a conversation between her brother and his wife. It appeared they were planning a dinner party.
She heard Charles say, “I shall see to it myself.”
“See to what, Brother? Do you require assistance? I know it has been most difficult for your dear wife to fulfil her duties while she cares for her poor sister.” Caroline glided into the room, barely glancing at Jane and radiating contempt.
“Caroline!” Bingley’s tone was admonishment enough to stop his sister in her tracks. “Have you forgotten our agreement already?”
She put on what she hoped was a contrite expression and said, “Of course not. I only meant to offer my assistance.” She smiled sweetly.
“Actually, Caroline,” said Jane, “you can be of some use. I shall be busy the next several days planning a dinner party for Charles. As you have an elegant hand, I wonder if you might assist with the invitations.” Caroline smiled at her good fortune and decided to send out a single invitation of her own.
The night of the dinner party, Elizabeth sat a little apart from everyone else in Netherfield’s drawing room. This was the first social engagement since Darcy’s return to Hertfordshire. They still had not spoken beyond the usual civilities, but their recent dance had done much to ease the tension between them. Even so, Elizabeth was relieved when the guests began to arrive. The influx of people meant she could engage in mundane conversation while allowing her mind to consider Mr Darcy. Her younger sisters had been invited, but Mary had a headache and Kitty chose to remain at home to care for her. Though her father was greatly altered, he truly did not care for such gatherings and had seized upon Mary’s illness as an excuse to remain behind. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she pictured her dear papa tucked away in his book room with a well-loved tome in one hand and his favourite brandy in the other.
Elizabeth was surprised to hear Lady Winslow announced to the room. She observed the look that passed between her sister and Bingley, but of greater interest was the clear disdain on Darcy’s face. It was evident none of them had issued Her Ladyship’s invitation. Elizabeth suspected she knew who had. Only Miss Bingley would be so brazen.
Her suspicions were quickly confirmed when Lady Winslow spoke to Jane and Bingley in a voice loud enough to be heard by anyone standing nearby. “You were so kind to allow dear Caroline to invite me. I am certain I have never seen a more charming country home.” The couple assured the lady of her welcome, but Elizabeth could see from the look in her sister’s eye that Miss Bingley would be called to account for her actions. From her hosts, Lady Winslow went directly to Darcy. “Fitz, darling, what a pleasure it is to see you again. Why this is twice in a six month. I am honoured.” Elizabeth hid a smile when Darcy turned away from the lady in mid-sentence. It was not, perhaps, as dramatic as cutting her in London might be, but his intentions were made clear. Lady Winslow retreated immediately to Miss Bingley’s side. Elizabeth observed the ladies and saw as each looked constantly in Darcy’s direction, one with undisguised longing and the other with contempt. The two carried on a whispered exchange until dinner.
Elizabeth was relieved to be spared yet another awkward dinner conversation with Mr Darcy. He was seated across from her, allowing her to observe his interaction with others without drawing undue attention to herself. He seemed a little more reserved than usual, and she thought she caught him looking her way more than once. She even imagined his glances might hold some regard. Her thoughts were so consumed by Darcy, that she scarcely remembered to speak to her dinner companions.
When the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner, Elizabeth slipped quietly to the side of the room once she ensured Georgiana was agreeably engaged with Maria Lucas. She sincerely hoped Jane would not call upon her to perform and that she might pass the remainder of the evening undisturbed. Being occupied with her own thoughts, she failed to notice the approach of Lady Winslow and so could not escape before the lady claimed her attention.
“Why Miss Eliza, you are sly hiding over here all alone! But now I have found you out, and you must join the party!” Lady Winslow giggled into her fan.
Elizabeth did not bother to correct the lady’s address and forced a courteous smile to her lips. “I am not hiding, Your Ladyship. I am indulging a taste for quiet observation. But I am happy to sit with any of my sister’s guests.”
“Not all of them, I dare say,” answered Lady Winslow with a pointed look at Darcy. He stood with his back to them and appeared to be in conversation with Charles.
“I do not take your meaning.”
“Oh, do not look so shocked, Miss Bennet. I was speaking with Miss Bingley earlier, and she confirmed what I had long suspected, that you and Fitz were once, shall we say, much better acquainted than you appear to be now?” Lady Winslow gave Elizabeth a knowing glance and a much too familiar pat on the arm as she skilfully guided them nearer the centre of the room. “Of course, I do not believe the bit about your attempting to seduce Mr Bingley.” Lady Winslow’s voice raised in volume as they moved towards her intended audience.
Elizabeth gasped as she considered how many might have heard Lady Winslow’s claims even with all the attention on Maria’s performance at the pianoforte. “I am glad you recognise a lie when you hear one. But surely, Lady Winslow, you realise the harm that could come from your words if they were overheard by the wrong ears? I pray you cease this conversation.” Elizabeth was pleased to see the few people that had overheard Lady Winslow’s remark quickly lose interest and return to their own conversations.
Lady Winslow, however, was not yet finished. “I can imagine how difficult it must be to be so near your former favourite. Only let me assure you of this, Miss Eliza. He is hardly worth pining over. As I once told you, I have known Fitzwilliam Darcy for many years and I can promise that a more proud, disagreeable man you will never meet. I know that you have one fortunate connexion in Mrs Bingley, but truly, according to my good friend, the rest of your family are hardly worth notice. For goodness sake, your youngest sister eloped, and with the son of a mere steward. Not that such things are of any importance to me— I only say this because I know Fitz and I can assure you that even if he had managed to go so far as to make you an offer, his abominable pride would never have allowed your unfortunate relations within ten miles of his precious Pemberley. He puts his pride above all things. First and always, he is a Darcy of Pemberley. I am the daughter of a peer and he would not have me, so it is certain you would always have been reminded that you were not good enough for h
im.”
Elizabeth was incensed at this speech, no less for its impropriety than its implications. “I dare say that you and I have had vastly different experiences with Mr Darcy.”
“Pardon me?”
“There was never an understanding between myself and Mr Darcy, so I have no claim or injury to resent. I wish him nothing but joy in this life. It pains me to speak ill of family, but Miss Bingley is not an accurate source of information on such matters. Mr Darcy has clearly lost your approbation, but it is my understanding that you did not lose his so much as you wilfully cast it aside. As to Mr Darcy, I will say this: I may have lost his good opinion, but he has certainly not lost mine. While I did not always think him so, it has been some time now since I have considered Mr Darcy to be one of the finest gentlemen of my acquaintance. Yes, he is a Darcy of Pemberley. He is a generous friend, a considerate brother, and an attentive landlord. His kindness and thoughtfulness are beyond what you or any other person so wholly unconnected to him could possibly imagine, and I am proud to have called him friend. I will thank you to importune me no further.” With that, Elizabeth exited the room, leaving a speechless Lady Winslow behind.
Darcy, meanwhile, had overheard all. Early in the evening he had resorted to his former habit of standing near Elizabeth to listen to her conversation with others and now he had this speech to Lady Winslow to consider. Elizabeth had spoken in his defence and called him a gentleman! Something about her speech troubled him, however, and he considered her words again. “I may have lost his good opinion…” And then he knew. Anne and Richard were correct. His absence and subsequent silence had been seen as disapprobation. He looked around the room and saw a flash of pink skirts as Elizabeth stepped out to a balcony.
Darcy followed close behind and stopped at the doorway to observe her for a moment. Her skin glowed in the torchlight, and he thought she had never been more beautiful.
Elizabeth was the first to speak. “Why did you come if you were only going to stare at me?”
“I find it impossible to speak in your presence.”
“We are speaking now.” And there was his Elizabeth. There was a sweet archness to her tone, a challenge waiting to be met.
“We are. I have wished to do so all week but have failed abysmally in my every attempt.”
“Not abysmally and not every time. You did manage to ask me to dance.” She looked away from him then, choosing instead to move to the balustrade and stare out at the star-filled night.
“And now?”
“I have not yet decided.” They were silent for a time before Elizabeth began again. “Why are you here?”
Mustering all his courage, Darcy moved closer. “Do you wish I were not?”
“I only wish I knew why.” Elizabeth kept her eyes steadfastly on the sky and Darcy could not say if she did not or chose not to notice that he was standing directly beside her. Their shoulders were touching. She did not move away.
“I came for you.” Into those four words, he poured all his love, all his passion, all his longing.
She released an indelicate little huff. “Me?”
“You, Elizabeth,” and her name was a prayer on his lips.
“Why me?” The pain in her voice broke his resolve, and he placed his hand over hers. The feel of her gloved hand in his was overwhelming.
“Why not you?” He gave her fingers a careful squeeze.
“Brighton, the risk of scandal, the connexion to him. All of it.” There were silent tears sliding down her alabaster cheeks and once again he wanted to kill George Wickham. “I should have known.”
“Known what?”
“I should have known what he and Lydia were about. That Lydia would…”
“Such suspicion is not in your nature.” He moved closer still.
“I thought you must hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“But you left,” she whispered.
“Forgive me, Elizabeth. When I came to the Forsters’ cottage that night, it was to see you, to secure you if I could. I wish now that I had carried out that purpose before chasing after Wickham. I told myself I was thinking only of you, but I can see now if that had been true, if I had truly been thinking of you, I should have stayed when I leapt from my carriage to hold you. I should have bought the licence and married you right then, and you would have known that you held my heart just as surely as you knew I held yours.”
“You are here now, and we are together, Fitzwilliam.”
“Say it again. My name. Please say it again.”
She breathed a soft laugh and said, “Fitzwilliam, Fitzwilliam, Fitzwilliam. How I love you.”
He used the back of his thumb to brush her cheek. “Elizabeth Bennet, I have loved you from the beginning, though I did not know it then. I wish to spend every moment of my life from this breath to my last in your presence. Will you give us forever? Will you consent to be my wife?”
She listened to the rich timbre of his voice and realised none of it mattered. She cared not why he had been so long absent. She only cared that he was here, now, in this moment. Whatever else had passed, he had come for her, and he had kept coming until he found her. “Yes, Fitzwilliam. Forever.”
Darcy swept her into his arms, kissing her cheeks and her eyes before his lips at last found hers.
When they separated, he said, “I will go to Longbourn tomorrow to ask your father’s blessing.”
“Did he not already give it?”
“That was before.”
“He will torment you, but he will not rescind his approval.”
“I should hope not. Will you tell your sister?”
“Naturally, just as I believe you will tell yours.”
“’Tis likely they both already know. We should go inside. You are chilled.”
“I must look a fright.”
“You look nothing of the sort, as I believe you know very well.”
Elizabeth shook her head ruefully then repaired her appearance and turned to him with questioning eyes, “Will that do?”
“You look beautiful as always.” By unspoken accord, they remained silent as they returned to the house hand in hand. The local dinner guests had already departed, and Darcy saw Elizabeth cast her sister a smile as she allowed him to escort her up the stairs. When they reached her chamber door, Darcy lifted her hands one at a time, turned each over and brushed the lightest kiss to her gloved wrists. “Until tomorrow, Elizabeth.”
“Until tomorrow, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth placed her hand on the doorknob behind her, opened the door, and slipped inside without looking away.
Breakfast the following day was a strained affair. Caroline had requested her trunks to be loaded on Lady Winslow’s carriage, but the lady forbade the action. A terrible row ensued with each lady accusing the other of assorted deceptions, manipulations, and other misdeeds. The shouting match continued into the hall. Bingley followed them and heard Lady Winslow say, “If you had done as you were instructed—”
Bingley raised his voice above the noise, “Enough!” he bellowed. When both Caroline and Lady Winslow were shocked into silence, he lowered his voice and continued. “You are disrupting the peace of this house, and I will not have it. Lady Winslow, I believe your carriage is waiting.”
Having dismissed one unwelcome guest, he turned to the other. “Caroline, I am pleased to inform you Hurst has been industriously working to find you an appropriate establishment. As soon as my carriage is ready, it will deliver you to London. But first, you will tell me to what instructions Lady Winslow referred.”
“Charles, really. It is unseemly to discuss this here, in the presence of your servants and guests,” Caroline demurred.
“You had no such reservations when you were carrying on like a common fishwife! My servants know the meaning of discretion, and my guests are, I suspect, your victims in this scheme. Now, out with it!”
Caroline blanched as she realised she would not be able to distract her brother from his intended purpose.<
br />
“I meant no harm, Charles.”
“Do not attempt to defend yourself, not after last night.”
“But, Charles, surely—”
“Now, Caroline.”
Caroline would not relent. “Mrs Bennet was right. You have been entirely taken in! I am your sister, Charles! Me! Not Eliza. You should be taking my part!”
Bingley shook his head and spoke in a voice only she would hear. “Yes, Caroline, you are my sister. And I heartily wish I had seen you for who you are years ago. There might then have been hope of changing your character before it became fixed. But I did nothing, and your disposition as a selfish and cruel manipulator is set. You leave in one hour. Please do not force me to have you escorted from the house.” With that, Bingley returned to the breakfast room.
Elizabeth and the Darcys paused in their conversation when Bingley came in. Jane went to her husband’s side where she briefly grasped his hand in solidarity and comfort, and then the pair joined their friends at the table. “I must apologise for my sister’s unseemly behaviour,” Bingley said.
Elizabeth exchanged a look with Darcy who gave the barest nod of his head. “I had thought to give her my thanks, little though I think she would appreciate the sentiment,” she said.
“Why ever would you thank her?” Jane asked.
“Because her presumptuous interference has been the means of uniting us,” Elizabeth answered with a laugh.
“The means of—Elizabeth! Are you engaged?”
“We are.”
Jane and Georgiana squealed in delight while Bingley offered his congratulations to Darcy.
“I shall ride to Longbourn today to speak to Mr Bennet.”
They spent several minutes discussing the happy news. When the meal ended, Miss Darcy said, “Miss Bennet, I have missed the walks we took at Rosings in the spring. Are there any paths nearby that you might share with me?”
“I would be happy to. Netherfield Park has several we might enjoy, and it is not so cool as to preclude a morning’s walk.”
