by Jann Rowland
“Bingley, Bingley,” said Lady Catherine in thought. “Is that not the name of that friend of yours from university?”
“The same,” said Darcy. “Miss Bingley is my friend’s younger sister.”
Though Miss Bingley beamed at the attention Lady Catherine was showing her, Darcy knew it would not last, for Lady Catherine had definite ideas about the right sort of people. This became clear as soon as the lady opened her mouth.
“Then it must be a privilege to receive the Darcys’ attention, for those of your background can not expect such favor. You should return to your home, for now is a time for family.”
“Catherine,” said Mr. Darcy in a warning tone, “please do not order about my daughter’s visitor as if Pemberley was your home.”
“It is no trouble, Mr. Darcy,” said Miss Bingley, showing remarkable composure Darcy would not have expected from her. “Of course, you wish to congregate as a family. I shall return to Netherfield and visit Georgiana again another day.”
The woman made her good-byes, with affection to Georgiana, reserved to Lady Catherine and Anne, and friendliness with the rest of the family, and departed. It was clear Mr. Darcy was not happy with his sister by marriage, but she spoke before he could open his mouth.
“It does no good to encourage closeness with the lower classes, Georgiana,” said Lady Catherine, fixing her niece with a gimlet eye. “Remember your lineage.”
“That is enough, Catherine,” said Mr. Darcy. “My daughter may count whomever she chooses as a friend, for it is none of your concern.”
It was clear Lady Catherine would like to dispute the matter, but she receded, albeit with little grace. “Yes, well, Anne and I cannot be happier to be here. Perhaps this will finally be the year we shall have a happy announcement.”
As one the company groaned, though Mr. Darcy was not at all amused. “Let us be clear on one subject, Catherine. There is to be no mention of your desire for William and Anne to marry, for I will not have it. If they were inclined to each other I should support them—as they are not, I will not have you browbeating them into obliging you.”
“Thank heavens!” exclaimed Anne before her mother could muster a response. They all turned to her with surprise, but Anne laughed and reached out to touch Darcy’s arm. “I hope I have not offended you, Cousin, for it was not my intention. We are not suited, for you are far too solemn for me.”
“There is no offense,” said Darcy before Lady Catherine could interject. “My feelings are identical to yours.”
“Then that is the end of the matter,” said Mr. Darcy. “With this behind us, I hope we enjoy an excellent visit together.”
Lady Catherine, they all knew, was not willing to confess defeat just yet, but for the moment she seemed to have been silenced. How long that would last Darcy could not say. Darcy elected to ignore her and enjoy the reprieve.
It was a common occurrence for the Bennet sisters to go into Lambton to assist their aunt in her various charities. Mrs. Gardiner was active in the community, not only as the parson’s wife but also in society, with those of the town who were lacking in necessities. There were several groups active in the neighborhood, and they provided many provisions, such as food and clothing to those in need. Lady Margaret had always thought it beneficial for her girls to become involved themselves, informing them when they protested that it helped build character to assist those less fortunate and see how they lived their lives.
On a particular day, the Bennet sisters made their way to Lambton to join their aunt in sewing clothes for some of the tenant children in need in the neighborhood. While Elizabeth had never enjoyed sewing, as her stitches were not so neat and even as Jane’s, she enjoyed visiting with her. It was during this bit of visiting that Elizabeth let slip an important piece of information, thereafter relieved her sisters were too busy in their own conversations to overhear.
“I have not seen you as much of late in Lambton,” observed Mrs. Gardiner. “Have the attractions of this fair town paled?”
“No, Aunt,” said Elizabeth.
“Then I am delighted to hear it, for you know my opinion of Lambton. Though I have lived nowhere else, I think it the dearest place in the world.”
It was an oft-stated view, and Elizabeth had heard it many times, not that she disagreed. “No, Lambton has not lost its charms. But I cannot always be coming and going to and from Lambton.”
Mrs. Gardiner regarded her with interest. “Have other matters occupied your time?”
With that prompting, Elizabeth turned her attention to the various events of late, Mr. Bingley’s continued efforts in wooing Jane, mixed with some of her doings at home. Elizabeth even spoke of their game of sardines, which provoked Mrs. Gardiner to laughter as she imagined her serious brother-in-law engaging in a child’s game. They also spoke of the confrontation between Mr. Gardiner and the younger Mr. Darcy, a conversation that led to Elizabeth’s error.
“I am glad nothing came of it,” said Mrs. Gardiner, referring to the separation of the combatants that day outside the bookshop. “Though I would see the breach between the families healed, there can be no good for David to confront Mr. Darcy in the middle of the street.”
“That is true,” said Elizabeth. She paused, concentrating on a bit of tricky stitching, her guard down when she observed: “I wish my family would come to see, as I have, the Darcy family is not all bad.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s level look did not capture Elizabeth’s attention at once, so for a moment, she did not realize she had made an error. “How have you ‘come to know’ the Darcy family, Lizzy?”
The belated comprehension of her mistake led Elizabeth to dissemble. “It is only that I now understand we should not be arguing in this way. Georgiana Darcy, whom we met in the bookshop, is a shy and unassuming girl, and the rest of the family do not seem to be as reprehensible as we Bennets have always thought.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s look did not abate. “As you know, I have spoken with Miss Darcy several times, as I have with her brother. I cannot but agree with you. However, your statement speaks to some further knowledge than a short meeting in a shop.”
Though Elizabeth twisted and turned in a metaphoric sense and tried to avoid Mrs. Gardiner’s inquiry, it soon became clear there was no way to evade her questions. Before she spoke, Elizabeth glanced about at her sisters, noting that Kitty and Lydia were chattering amongst themselves, while Jane and Mary were also speaking softly. As the younger sisters were closer to them than the elder, Elizabeth felt confident they would not overhear.
“I . . .” Elizabeth hesitated, uncertain how to explain before deciding there was nothing she could do except say it. “I have met Mr. Darcy several times during my walks and rides.”
“Met Mr. Darcy?” echoed Mrs. Gardiner. “I was not even aware you know Mr. Darcy, Lizzy.” Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes narrowed and she said: “Of which Mr. Darcy are we speaking? Not the younger man.”
“No,” replied Elizabeth, feeling her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “It was Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Please tell me all, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner, though it was more of a demand than a request.
Hesitant though she was, Elizabeth related her initial meeting with Mr. Darcy at Oakham Mount and riding back to the road to Longbourn with him during their next encounter. Then she covered their subsequent meetings, whether while walking the boundaries of Longbourn, the meetings in the meadow, and even a brief conversation in Lambton. As she spoke, Elizabeth’s aunt listened with growing astonishment, and when she had finished relating her tale, Mrs. Gardiner was not slow to voice her opinion.
“Lizzy, have you considered the consequences of your actions?” When Elizabeth looked away, Mrs. Gardiner said: “Your father, at the very least, will not be pleased. I might have expected this disobedience from Lydia, but never from you.”
“Lydia is headstrong,” said Elizabeth, feeling the need to defend her sister, “but she is a good girl.”
“It appears obstina
cy is not only a part of your sister’s character,” said Mrs. Gardiner, her pointed look making Elizabeth feel uncomfortable.
“I know of my father’s displeasure should this become known,” said Elizabeth. “However, I shall also point out I have realized through our meetings I have misjudged Mr. Darcy. The gentleman is not a devil as my family had always taken all Darcys to be.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s mien softened. “Yes, that is a definite benefit of such meetings. If only your family could see the Darcys as they truly are, perhaps this disagreement could be put to rest.”
“It is not only the Bennets,” said Elizabeth. “I have it on good authority that the Darcy family feels the same way about us as we do about them.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded but did not speak, after which Elizabeth added: “You need not worry, Aunt, for I have not met Mr. Darcy for some days now. It is my conjecture that he has realized, as much as I, that there is little reason to continue to dispute between us, but he also understands he cannot disobey his father as I cannot disobey mine.”
Once again Mrs. Gardiner regarded Elizabeth closely, though she did not speak for the moment. Though Elizabeth wondered what her aunt might say, she would not have expected it when it came.
“Elizabeth, have you considered the possibility that this hostility between your families might be resolved by your connection to Mr. Darcy?”
For a moment Elizabeth could not understand her aunt’s meaning. Then the inference became clear and she gasped. It was fortunate her sisters were still engaged in their own conversations, for Elizabeth thought she might have been asked to explain herself.
“Can you mean what I think you mean?” asked Elizabeth, though her words were little more than a squeak. It seemed that outburst did garner her sisters’ attention. Mrs. Gardiner smiled, however, and made some jest—Elizabeth did not even hear it—prompting her sisters to return to their own conversations.
“I am not in love with Mr. Darcy,” hissed Elizabeth, fixing her aunt with a glare.
“There must be something there, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Otherwise, I do not believe you would put your father’s instructions aside with such ease.”
The observation brought Elizabeth up short, bereft of any response. Mrs. Gardiner smiled and clasped Elizabeth’s hand. “I would ask you to take great care, Elizabeth. It is not my contention that you are in love with the gentleman, but I would abjure you to ask yourself why you have chosen to put aside your father’s commands. Further, if you meet with Mr. Darcy again, try to discover the gentleman’s feelings. I do not ask you to throw yourself into his arms; I ask you to understand what you are about, what the gentleman is about.”
Soon after, the Bennet sisters departed. They took some time to peruse the shops in Lambton, separating to visit those locations of interest to each sister. Elizabeth had no thoughts for her sisters and had little attention for any of her activities. Most of her remaining time in Lambton she wandered deep in thought. But there was little resolution she could find in her reminiscences. Confusion reigned, and Elizabeth did not know how to resolve it.
Chapter XV
Life with Lady Catherine at Pemberley was a constant state of vexation, for the woman was not shy about stating her opinion whenever the opportunity presented itself. Though Darcy had always held his aunt in a certain exasperated affection, her continual direction, advice, and comments about how wonderful it would be if he were to do his duty and propose to Anne could not help but grate on his nerves. His father, though it was clear she also annoyed him left well enough alone, as she was not trumpeting the engagement to all and sundry. This left Darcy with little option other than to escape from the house as much as he was able.
On a day not long after his aunt’s arrival, Darcy rode out in the company of his cousin and brother, and the three riders, after following the paths of the estate for a time, decided to make for Lambton. The sounds of the horses’ hooves against the roads, accompanied by the swaying gait of his mount soothed Darcy, helping him forget the stresses of his aunt’s presence. Then a strain of another sort presented itself.
“Bingley!” exclaimed his cousin as they approached the town. Darcy, who had been lost in thought, had not noticed his friend, and he looked up, noting Bingley’s presence and his smile of pleasure for Fitzwilliam. The two men came together and shook hands, both at their irrepressible best.
“Fitzwilliam. I heard you were to return to Pemberley, though not that you had arrived.”
“It is even worse, Bingley,” said Fitzwilliam in a low voice, as if imparting a secret. “Pemberley, you see has been taken by invaders from Kent, pitiless mercenaries intent upon carrying my cousin away captive for their nefarious schemes!”
Bingley laughed, though the look he shot at Darcy betrayed a hint of nervousness.
“Come now, Fitzwilliam,” said Alexander, guiding his horse forward to make his own greetings. “You know only one invader is determined on such despicable actions. Anne has the sense to wish nothing to do with William for a husband!”
The three men laughed while Darcy looked on, uncertain what he should do. Little desire though he had to end his friendship with Bingley, they also had not spoken since Bingley had announced his intentions for the eldest Bennet, outside of his few words in the bookshop. How he should act, Darcy could not decipher.
“It is my understanding you have braved the viper’s den to pay court to the eldest daughter of Baron Arundel.”
Bingley shot Darcy a look at Fitzwilliam’s statement, and Darcy attempted to smile, hoping his friend understood Darcy had said nothing derogatory of the young woman. It was fortunate Fitzwilliam interpreted the look correctly.
“Oh, do not look so at Darcy. Though I heard of it soon after my arrival, Darcy had little to say on the matter and did not attempt to poison me against Miss Bennet. From what I remember, she is a beautiful young woman, the type I would expect you to pursue, given what I know of your preferences.”
“She is,” said Bingley with a soft smile. “There is no woman of my acquaintance who is better than she. I am a lucky man.”
“Or she is a lucky woman,” said Fitzwilliam.
“Perhaps,” replies Bingley. Then he fixed Fitzwilliam with a look and said: “It is a surprise you would speak to me, considering the situation. I might have thought you would shun me.”
“Might I assume you are speaking of this silly dispute between the Darcys and the Bennets?”
When Bingley nodded, Fitzwilliam’s snort informed them all of his opinion on the matter. “As I said, I think it is akin to a spat between children. Regardless, the matter is a Darcy concern, not one to plague anyone bearing the name Fitzwilliam. I have met various Bennets at different times, and I have no disliking for any of them.”
“Furthermore,” added Fitzwilliam, shooting a look at Darcy before his eyes found Bingley again, “the Darcys are my relations, and I support and respect them. But I choose my own friends, and if they have any problem with that, it is their problem. I will not shun you for your feelings for a worthy young woman, of that I can assure you.”
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” said Bingley, his voice laden with feeling.
“For my part,” said Darcy, speaking on instinct and without thinking, “I do not wish to lose your friendship because of such trivial concerns, Bingley.” Pausing, Darcy struggled to say something more when his friend’s eyes found him. When he felt the weight of all their eyes upon him, he shrugged and said: “It has taken me too long to realize this, I know, but losing your friendship is something I would regret the rest of my life.”
“Then you will withstand my Bennet bride?” asked Bingley.
Darcy laughed, feeling free for the first time in weeks. “As my cousin said, she seems like an excellent young woman. I shall try not to hold a grudge against her should she marry such an unworthy sod as you.”
With a wide grin, Bingley urged his horse forward, clasping Darcy’s forearm, Darcy returning the gesture. “I thank you, my f
riend. Though I knew I was risking the loss of your friendship, I am glad that has not happened. I have had no firmer friend than you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” replied Darcy. “Please do not hold my tardy acceptance of your ability to make your own choices against me.”
“Of course not,” replied Bingley with a grin. “Do not think you are free of being reminded of it, though. I shall ensure to do so at every opportunity.”
“With such a cousin as Fitzwilliam, I am accustomed to such teasing.”
“As you should be,” replied Fitzwilliam with a grin. Then he turned back to Bingley. “Where are you bound, Bingley? Shall we ride on to Lambton together?”
“I have just completed some business there,” said Bingley. “At present, I am for Longbourn. I hope you will forgive me if I find Miss Bennet’s company preferable to yours.”
“Methinks someone is entangled in a woman’s web,” said Alexander.
“And content to be so,” replied Bingley with a grin. “But if you are willing, perhaps we could ride together tomorrow.”
They discussed and agreed upon their plans for the morrow, and soon Bingley farewelled them and went on his way. For the past weeks, Darcy had been agonizing over his friendship with Bingley, wishing there was some way to restore it. Now that it was repaired, he was floating on a sea of relief. The words he had spoken were not idle praise—Bingley was as good a friend as Darcy ever had, and to keep his friendship was all Darcy had ever wished.
“I see you have come to your senses,” said Fitzwilliam as they rode on toward the town.
“As you said,” replied Darcy, “the business in question was no reason to lose a friendship.”
“Perhaps there is hope for us yet,” said Alexander. “The question is, will Father allow a Bennet at our table after Bingley marries, even after she resigns her maiden name in favor of his?”
