Her fingernails bit into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists. How could he be so careless of Lydia and Kitty, yet so intolerant of her engagement? But it was not a matter of rationality, she knew, so much as an inability to admit he might have been mistaken. No matter how angry she was, she could not afford to give him reason to become more entrenched in his position, so she said nothing more. Her appetite had completely fled, though. Conscious of her aunt’s concerned gaze, she choked down a few bites to keep up appearances, but the food seemed to sit like a brick in her stomach.
After dinner, she told Jane and her aunt that she wished to be alone, which they agreed to, though not without a number of worried glances. Elizabeth took the opportunity to sit down in her room with pen and paper, and spent over an hour painstakingly drafting a letter. It took three attempts before she was satisfied. She put the letter away in a drawer without sealing it.
At breakfast the next day, she calmly but distantly told her father that she was prepared to accept his conditions. He raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner, but she made no response either in word or expression. Finally he announced that they would depart for Longbourn the following day, then finished his coffee and left the room.
***
Mr. Gardiner looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand, then up at the imposing edifice before him. Lifting his cane, he rapped on the door with it.
The door was opened by an elderly butler whose face appeared to be carved from stone. Mr. Gardiner proffered his card. “I wish to speak to Mr. Darcy.”
“One moment.” The butler creaked away, then returned a few minutes later. “Mr. Darcy is not at home.”
Mr. Gardiner had expected this. “Kindly inform Mr. Darcy that I have a letter for him from Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Gardiner swung his cane under his arm. Darcy House reeked of money and good breeding. He wondered if his brother-in-law had been correct in his assessment of Darcy. Lizzy was very young, after all.
Instead of the aged butler, a tall young man hurried toward him, dressed in clothes that would have been elegant if they did not look as if he had been sleeping in them.
“Mr. Darcy, I presume?” Mr. Gardiner held out his hand. “Edward Gardiner, at your service. I believe you know my niece, Elizabeth.”
Darcy looked at him searchingly, but shook his hand without hesitation. “Please come in, Mr. Gardiner. I apologize for keeping you waiting. Will you join me in the sitting room?” He seemed not to know what to do with his hands. No doubt he was accustomed to a servant showing guests in. The butler stood a good six feet behind him, looking discreetly appalled.
“Thank you.” The sitting room confirmed his expectations with expensive furnishings, but at least they were elegant, rather than simply showy.
As soon as they were both seated, Darcy said, “You have word for me from Miss Bennet?”
Mr. Gardiner wondered if Darcy was being deliberately rude or just desperately worried. “I have a letter she wrote to you, but it is not quite what you might expect.”
Darcy stiffened, suddenly looking ten years older. “I see.”
“She wrote it under unusual circumstances. Her father has forbidden her to contact you, but she knows I have some sympathy for her position. She left the letter to you on my desk, unsealed, with a note asking me to read it and determine for myself whether I thought it appropriate to send it to you. She gave as a reason that it seemed cruel to leave you in suspense as to her intentions. While I was reluctant to go against her father’s expressed wish, it seemed a reasonable point.” He removed the letter from his pocket, noting how hungrily Darcy watched his every move. “She clearly went to some effort to make her letter as innocuous as possible in order to give me no grounds to object to it, so you will find it quite stilted, not at all in Lizzy’s usual style.” He leaned forward and held out the letter.
Darcy took it, then held it in his hands for a moment as if fearing what might be inside. When he finally opened it, he scanned quickly through the brief missive. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, then rose abruptly and strode to the window where he read it again, then stood with his head bowed. After a long pause, he said, still looking away, “I must apologize for my rudeness. I had thought this might tell me of an end to my hopes.”
Mr. Gardiner blinked. “You thought she might have changed her mind?”
“I feared it.” Darcy’s voice was low.
“Because of her father’s opposition? I cannot think of anyone less likely to give way under pressure than Lizzy. Do you not know how very stubborn she can be?”
At that, Darcy looked up, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. “It has come to my attention once or twice.”
Mr. Gardiner decided to venture a test. “I don’t suppose you would care to explain to me the meaning of that little sketch at the bottom of the page. The one where she is standing by a river with a large pile of… something.”
“That?” Darcy looked down at the letter, and for a moment looked almost happy. “I think it is her way of saying she is upset about the situation. Once, when I was angered about something, she found me throwing rocks into the river.”
“And that would explain why there are enough rocks by that river to rebuild Hadrian’s Wall, I suppose.”
There it was, that hint of a smile again. “She seems to think she will require quite a few.” He returned from the window and sat down once more, looking calmer than before. “I may need a small mountain of them myself.”
“I am not surprised.”
Darcy appeared to be wrestling with something. “Elizabeth says in the letter that I can trust you implicitly, as she does.”
Mr. Gardiner raised an amused eyebrow. “I know. I did read it, after all.”
“Can you advise me as to what I should do?” The words came out in a rush. “I am not well enough acquainted with Mr. Bennet to know how best to plead my case. Should I write to him and explain myself, or try to meet with him, or should I just stay away? I do not even know what his objection to me is.” He shrugged helplessly.
“I think his objection is less to you than to his assumption that you must be similar in character to certain of your relatives. He has an intense dislike for Lord Matlock.”
“He is in good company in that. I would be hard put to name half a dozen people who do not have an intense dislike of my uncle.”
Mr. Gardiner chuckled. “I see you have no illusions about him.”
“Have you ever met my uncle, sir?”
“Yes, I have. Many years ago.”
“Then you know how hard it would be to retain any illusions about him. But what have I ever done to make Mr. Bennet think that I am anything like him? Has he so little faith in Elizabeth’s judgment?”
“I doubt it is that reasoned an opinion. But to return to your question, I do not think you would harm your case by writing to him, but I would not expect it to lead to a change of heart on his part. He seems determined to think the worst of you.”
Darcy’s lips formed a thin line. “Then I must learn to be patient. If you ever have the opportunity, please tell Elizabeth that I will find her on December 26, with a special license in my hand.”
“Well, do keep me informed of your plans. My wife and I are very fond of Lizzy, and we would be sorry to miss her wedding day.”
“You may depend upon it, sir. And in the meantime, would you be willing to let me know from time to time whether all is well with her… or do I ask too much?”
“I would be happy to do so. We must invite you to dine with us soon. My wife will be anxious to meet you.”
“Thank you, sir. I cannot thank you enough – you do not know how greatly you have relieved my mind.”
Mr. Gardiner thought he actually had a fairly good idea.
***
Longbourn House usually teemed with activity and noise, but it was oddly silent when the three Bennets returned. To their surprise, they were greeted by Mary.
&nb
sp; Mr. Bennet looked over his glasses at her. “I thought you were to be in Brighton.”
“I preferred to stay here where I can read and practice my music in peace. I find no enjoyment in such frivolous pursuits as balls and parties, and I think that flirting with soldiers shows a disregard for reputation unsuitable to a young lady, so Brighton has no appeal for me.”
Shocked, Elizabeth said, “Did our mother agree to leaving you here alone?”
Mary shrugged, her lips tight. “It was her idea. She said that if I planned to moralize on their pleasures the entire time, she would rather that I did not come. It has only been a few days, and I have enjoyed the quiet.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Jane. “We will be glad your company, Mary.”
Mr. Bennet immediately disappeared into his library, while Jane and Elizabeth chose to refresh themselves first. Although Elizabeth’s bedroom had not changed since her departure, she discovered that it seemed smaller, as though she no longer fit in it.
Her trunk, sent from Hunsford, had been placed at the foot of her bed. She opened the lid to discover that it had not yet been unpacked. On top of the neatly folded clothes was a note from Charlotte.
Dearest Lizzy,
I hope I have managed to locate everything of yours, but if I have missed anything, I will bring it when I next come to visit. I have included a cloak which Mr. Darcy insists is yours, although I do not recognize it. I saw him for only a few minutes before he and Colonel Fitzwilliam departed for London, not long after you left. I cannot blame them for taking flight; Lady Catherine was beside herself with rage, and Lord Matlock as well. Mr. Darcy seemed in very poor spirits, and I was glad the colonel was with him. It seems so quiet here now that our parties only consist of Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh and my sister. Maria will remain here longer than we expected; Lady Catherine has decreed that she shall stay through the summer. We dare not mention your name for fear of Lady Catherine’s wrath falling on Mr. Collins for the crime of being your cousin.
The coach is waiting for your luggage, so I will write more later.
Charlotte Collins
Elizabeth read this missive twice, lingering over the part about Mr. Darcy’s poor spirits, wishing she had been there to comfort him.
She put the letter aside, then hurriedly moved the top layer of dresses and laid them on her bed with little care for the meticulous folding Charlotte had done. She burrowed through the trunk until the heavy wool of the cloak was revealed. She gathered it to her, and with a sound that was almost a sob, sat in the rocker and hugged it tightly, burying her face in it. It still bore the scent of leather and horses, taking her back again to that hour in his arms when she had felt safe.
***
Longbourn was indeed a different place in the absence of Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty. Its usual noisy chaos was replaced by civilized conversation. The only thing that remained unchanged was that Mr. Bennet continued to seek refuge in his library every day, seeing his daughters only at dinner. From the outside, it might seem as if nothing had changed between him and his favorite daughter, but the teasing and warmth that had once characterized their relationship was a thing of the past. Mr. Bennet still made jests, but Elizabeth no longer shared the joke with him.
To Elizabeth’s great relief, it did not take Mary long to realize that something was being kept from her. When she raised this question, Elizabeth readily agreed that it was true, and that she herself was unhappy about it and would like to tell Mary the full story, but that their father had forbidden her to discuss it. As she expected, Mr. Bennet was sufficiently displeased to be lectured at repeatedly by his middle daughter that he eventually lifted the ban where Mary was concerned, and Mary was treated to two very different versions of the same story, one from her father and one from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth anticipated a dramatic increase in morality lectures from Mary as a result of her new knowledge, but to her surprise, the converse occurred. When Mary, accustomed to being the least considered and valued of the sisters, discovered that Elizabeth and to some extent Jane were in parental disfavor while she herself was not, she responded by becoming protective of them. Elizabeth, who did not question her own actions to the degree Mary seemed to believe, found Mary a more pleasant companion and one whom she could confide.
Elizabeth’s other happiness was in the absence of the militia in general and Wickham in particular. She could no longer imagine finding any pleasure in flirting with handsome young men. She avoided even the usual parties in the neighborhood, not out of any distaste for the company, but because she was sure to be asked about the announcement, and she did not care to lie to her friends about the state of affairs. She found sufficient to interest her in the vicinity of Longbourn, and often went out walking for hours in the silence that allowed her to rest her thoughts on those days in Hunsford with Mr. Darcy.
She was relieved to receive a letter from her aunt a few days after their arrival which mentioned in passing that Mr. Gardiner had found time to deal with all the correspondence that had piled up on his desk during their visit. It was little enough to know that Darcy had received her note, for she could barely call it a letter, but she took consolation in the fact that Mrs. Gardiner did not mention anything amiss in the delivery of the letter, and that her aunt did not seem distressed with her for having made the request. If she was surprised by the degree of subterfuge in her aunt’s reply, it did not last through the next day when her father summoned her to his library.
He held a letter in his hand. “Mrs. Collins wishes you to know that the pigs found their way into the garden, causing severe depredations, to the despair of Mr. Collins. She also mentions that Jenny, whomever that might be, is now able to hobble about on crutches and is to live with her aunt at Rosings. The village is apparently being rebuilt slowly.” He dropped the letter onto his desk. “The remainder of her letter consists of messages from Darcy. Kindly inform Mrs. Collins in your reply that I will be reading any correspondence you receive, and that if she wishes you to see it, she will refrain from such discussion. Is that clear?”
“You read a letter sent to me?” Elizabeth struggled to keep her voice level.
“I was apparently correct to do so. That will be all, my dear.”
If only she could snatch the letter from his desk and run off with it! Perhaps she could lure him away and return for it later. “Jane wishes to know if you would like to join us for some tea.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he picked up the letter and tore it across, then into quarters, then once again. For good measure, he tossed the fragments into the fire.
Helpless fury burned inside her. “I will tell her that you have no interest in tea,” she said icily. Or anything else to do with me, she thought.
Chapter 12
On Elizabeth’s return from one of her walks, she spotted a figure in uniform approaching Longbourn on horseback. At first she thought it was one of the officers who had returned for some reason, but as he drew closer, she realized his uniform did not match that of the militia. The face under the black bicorne hat seemed simultaneously familiar and strange, and it was not until he dismounted in front of the house that she recognized Colonel Fitzwilliam.
She had never before seen him in regimentals, and it made him appear quite a stranger to her eyes, but she approached him with pleasure. Her discomfort in refusing his proposal was quite forgot in the happiness of seeing someone who knew the truth of her engagement.
She hailed him by name, and he swept her a bow so extravagant as to make her laugh. “Colonel, this is a delightful surprise. I had not thought to see you at Longbourn.”
“Although I will never complain of your charming company, I confess the object of my visit is to speak to your father. I left him with quite the wrong impression that morning at Hunsford – I had no notion at the time that he was your father – and I felt it was my duty to attempt to mend the damage I had done.”
“That is very good of you, but most likely he will refuse to see you
. He is not precisely reasonable on the subject of that day.”
“That is what Darcy said as well, but as it happens, he cannot refuse to see me. I am, after all, an officer in His Majesty’s service, and I come bearing a letter to him from no less a personage than the Secretary at War himself.” He leaned closer and said in a confiding tone, “It is, in fact, merely a letter of introduction to serve as a character reference for me, but Lord Palmerston did direct me to deliver it to Mr. Bennet, and I must do my duty to King and country.”
She laughed, as he had no doubt intended. “I cannot stand in the way of a soldier performing his duty, but I would expect a very cold welcome indeed if I were you.”
“Your father holds no terrors for me. You have met my father; can yours do anything worse?”
“I suppose not! But since I will not be allowed to speak to you once he is aware of your presence, may I inquire as to whether you have any news of Mr. Darcy?”
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