by A K Madison
“I think I knew that. But you do express it beautifully.” She leaned over and kissed his lips shyly, delighting in the knowledge that she could draw a response from him and that her kisses pleased him. But bearing in mind their joint promise to take care of each other, she drew back and took him by the hand asking him playfully to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”
“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.” He covered her hand with his own, thinking of how pleasurable it was to have dispensed with gloves. “And what about you?”
“Something changed in my mind after the conversation at Hunsford. I found I could not be angry with you. I became convinced that I could not bear to live in the world and have you thinking ill of me.”
“As if I could ever think ill of you. There was a letter, you know. I wrote you a long letter explaining myself and my reasons. It was full of bitterness and self-justification. I must have walked for hours in the grove next morning hoping to deliver it to you, but I never saw you. Thank God I never saw you.”
Elizabeth blushed and hung her head. “Jane has told me of the letter, but she would not tell me what was in it. She earnestly told me that you were a better man than I could have imagined and that I should give you a fair chance.”
“Your sister is kinder to me than I have a right to expect. On that head, I am happy to have been proven utterly and completely wrong. Did she tell you about Wickham?”
“Not entirely. She said that he was not a good man and that he had done something dreadful but that she would be betraying a confidence if she told me what it was. I believed her. I do know about his profligacy with money and something of his immorality, and that is enough. You need not tell me if you do not wish to.”
“No, no. It will be better if you know, and I have no reason not to confide in you. We will soon be a family, and Georgiana will be your sister.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, solemn, and held his hand tighter. “Georgiana? Then tell me. You may rely on my secrecy.”
At that, the story came tumbling out. Even after almost two years, it was still too raw, too horrifying, for Darcy to relate dispassionately. Wickham’s cold-hearted and mercenary near-seduction of Georgiana, Darcy’s chance arrival at the eleventh hour, and Georgiana’s guilt and sorrow ever afterward: These made for a chilling narrative. Elizabeth was silent, only an occasional gasp, or a widening of the eyes, betraying her shock at what she was hearing.
When he had finished and sat silently staring at the ground, she took his hand in both of hers and laid her cheek upon it. “I do not know how you were able to bear up under such a burden. No, that is wrong. I do know. You have done it for the sake of the sister entrusted to your care.” She drew a shuddering breath. “I scarcely know what to say in the face of such wickedness. How does Georgiana get on?”
“She is improving. She was deeply ashamed of what had happened and regarded it as entirely her fault. She has a wonderful companion now, a Mrs. Annesley, who has brought her back into the real world. I have great hope that she will recover from this eventually.”
“I am looking forward to getting to know her better.”
“You will be a wonderful sister and guide to her once she has gotten over her initial shyness.”
“May I write to her?”
Darcy kissed her fingers and looked into her eyes. “She would love that. She may be a little too bashful to initiate the correspondence, but she will answer your letters.”
“Lizzy! Lizzy, where have you gotten off to?” The air was split by the shrill call of Mrs. Bennet.
“Our quiet time is over,” sighed Elizabeth as she stood.
“Yes, but we covered a great deal of ground.” Darcy offered her his arm and they left the wilderness together.
Darcy took the list she had prepared for Mr. Hobbs and folded it carefully. “I shall deliver it to him on my way back to Netherfield this afternoon, madam.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I shall have all sorts of lists to send to London with you for my brother and sister Gardiner. I have moved but once in my life, and that was to come to Longbourn when I married Mr. Bennet. So, I am quite afraid of forgetting something. However, I should like to go to the house and take measurements of the windows and see where the kitchen is to be. Perhaps I should bring Cook along, but I shall need two steady young men to assist with the measuring. Could this be arranged, Mr. Darcy?”
“Certainly.” Darcy bowed courteously. “If I might suggest, you may also wish to have Mrs. Hill accompany you. As your housekeeper, she will certainly take an interest in the layout of the house and may have valuable insights. I may be leaving for London sooner than I had originally thought. Might I ask Mr. Bingley to escort you? I will ask him to send you a note.”
“Very good suggestion, sir. Are you ready for me to call for your carriage? You may wait for it here with Lizzy.”
“Thank you.”
“Lizzy, when you have said goodbye to Mr. Darcy, come inside. I will want your help with all of these lists.”
Since the couple were standing on the sweep, in full view of everyone in the front of the house, their goodbyes were, of necessity, formal and decorous. Darcy raised his hat, bowed over Elizabeth’s hand, and left her with a smile and a promise to wait on her before his departure the next day.
Chapter 16
Elizabeth Bennet to Fitzwilliam Darcy
February 19, 18__
My dearest Fitzwilliam,
You have only been gone since this morning, but I miss you already. I had intended to give you the enclosed before you left, and in the sadness of parting, it slipped my mind. I remember your saying that the farthing was the only thing of mine you had. I hope you will not think it is too forward of me, but I wish you to have this as we endure this dreary separation. I dare to hope you will think of me when you see this little lock of hair, and it is my fervent wish that you will send me one of your own in return.
I have no news to report, since we kissed goodbye only this morning. But it feels as though many days have passed already. Come back to me soon and let us never be parted again.
With all my love,
your Elizabeth
Fitzwlliam Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet
February 21, 18__
Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,
I have no words to express the tender sentiments evoked by your beautiful letter. The lock of your hair is now my most cherished possession, and I have placed it in the back of my watch case so that it will always be with me. I have kissed it fervently each morning and evening, and if I close my eyes, I can imagine you are nearby.
I send you in return a lock of my own hair. The locket that encloses it is small and plain, and I found it amongst some of the Darcy jewels that are kept here in Town. I realize that it may not be appropriate for you to wear it during your time of mourning, but perhaps it can be concealed by your gown, close to your heart. I do not know to which lady of my family the inscription was dedicated, but it certainly captures my feelings for you, my dearest heart. Never doubt I love.
Knowing your dear mother as I believe I now do, I close this page with as many kisses as you can imagine. How I long to hold you in my arms. This page you may keep for yourself alone; the second page, which I have enclosed, is to be shared with your mother and the rest of your family.
Goodbye for now, my darling. Write soon.
Your most loving,
Fitzwilliam
Mr. And Mrs. Edward Gardiner to Elizabeth Bennet
February 23r, 18__
My dear niece Elizabeth,
I take pen in hand on this beautiful Sabbath afternoon to inform you that I have carefully reviewed the marriage articles with your Mr. Darcy and find them perfect in every respe
ct and more than generous. You will be cared for and generously provided for during your entire lifetime, and the children who will bless your union with Mr. Darcy will likewise never suffer from any want or need. It is a source of great satisfaction to me that I have been able to act in place of your dear father, who loved you deeply and wanted only the best for you. Mr. Darcy is a fine man, admirable in every respect, and he loves you as he should. I will close with my love and yield the rest of this page to your aunt, who wishes to send along her own greetings.
Your loving uncle, Edw. Gardiner
Dear Lizzy,
I am so inexpressibly happy to know that you will marry Mr. Darcy. I am in accord with your uncle that he loves and cares for you, and I am convinced you will have a long and happy life together.
I join with your uncle in sending you all my love. Your marriage will be joyful indeed, my dear girl.
Aunt Madeline
Elizabeth Bennet to Georgiana Darcy
February 23, 18__
Dear Miss Darcy,
Thank you so very much for your kind letter, which has arrived in the packet sent by your brother. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your warm welcome to the family. I agree with you that we share many interests in common. What pleasant hours we shall spend growing together in friendship. I eagerly anticipate asking for your advice on all those difficult musical passages I now slur my way through.
Thank you also for the delightful sketch of Pemberley. I have hung it in my chamber above my little desk, and I shall think of you whenever I look at it. I do not believe I have ever seen a house so happily situated, and your drawing makes me long to see it in person.
Do write soon. I am fascinated to hear of all the things you are doing to prepare for your entrance into Society next year.
With fondest best wishes,
Elizabeth Bennet
Elizabeth Bennet to Fitzwilliam Darcy
February 23, 18__
My Dearest Fitzwilliam,
What a wonderful package you sent with your messenger, and I will save the best part for last. It was wonderful to hear from both Georgiana and Lady Matlock. Their kind expressions of welcome gladdened my heart, and Georgiana’s pen and ink sketch of Pemberley is now in my room, and I will hang it when I move to my new room. I have already written to thank her, but please mention to her that I have told you about it. I think that will please her. I have also written to Lady Matlock.
And now, with that out of the way, I receive your kisses, double them, and send them back to you. But it is still not enough kisses. I want more, more, and more, and my arms have a strange, empty feeling as though they want to be thrown round your neck. I have received the locket with your hair, and it is safely clasped around my neck and concealed beneath my gown where my mother and sisters will never think to look. I will tell you that the lady for whom the locket was made originally must have been considerably taller than I am. Therefore, you will not see the locket, either, until we are wed. There now, I am a wanton on top of all my other sins. Come back to me soon. I love you.
Your Elizabeth
The Reverend William Collins to Elizabeth Bennet
February 24, 18__
My dear Cousin Elizabeth,
I trust this letter finds you well and that your dear mother is proceeding with plans for the removal. Mrs. Collins is much improved in health, and we plan to leave for Longbourn sooner than expected. I shall notify your mother of our arrival date.
After the untimely demise of your honored father, dear cousin, I feel you may be in want of that wise counsel that may only originate from a male member of the family. I am obliged to offer you my humble services in that regard lest you commit a most grievous error. It is rumored that you will soon be following your elder sister into the married state, and that the chosen partner of your fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in the land. I refer of course to no less a personage than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the heart of mortal can most desire: Splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn you, cousin, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.
My motive for cautioning you is as follows: we have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye. After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent that she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I consider it my duty as head of the family to give you, Cousin Elizabeth, the speediest intelligence of this so that you and your noble admirer may be aware of what you are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned. I have prepared and sent a similar communication to Mr. Darcy, but as you are the female, it is your responsibility to control his passions as well as your own. See to it.
I urge you in the strongest possible terms, dear cousin, to abandon this scheme and to take up with patience the humble life which Providence has set before you. Your reward shall be great in Heaven.
Your cousin,
The Rev’d William Collins
✽✽✽
A day or two after Elizabeth had received this extraordinary communication from Mr. Collins, the ladies were astonished to receive a visit from none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She swept into the parlor, refusing to wait to be announced, and demanded that Elizabeth walk outside with her. Elizabeth, baffled, went for her cloak and bonnet. Her mother tried in vain to make small talk and finally suggested to Elizabeth that she show Lady Catherine around the various walks.
The day was chilly, and Lady Catherine began, “Where can we go to talk and be sheltered from this ghastly wind?
“There is a wilderness just over here, Lady Catherine. The trees and shrubbery will break the wind.” Elizabeth did not attempt to forward the conversation. She had found Lady Catherine’s behavior towards her mother and sisters to be uncommonly insolent, and she was determined not to encourage such behavior.
As soon as they had seated themselves in the wilderness, Lady Catherine began. “A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would in all likelihood be soon united in marriage to my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood—though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”
She raked Elizabeth up and down with cold eyes before continuing. “You will never be permitted to unite in marriage with my nephew. My nephew. Do I make myself clear? He is promised to my own daughter, Anne, and that is the only marriage that will take place. Tell me, Miss Bennet. Have you thought about what fate awaits you as the wife of Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
“The wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”
“Miss Bennet, you will never be noticed by his family or friends if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us. Honor, decorum, prudence - nay, interest, forbid this match. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; you will be an outcast.”
Elizabeth was calm. “These are heavy misfortunes indeed,” she replied. “But as I have just said, the wife of Mr. Darcy could have no cause to repine.”
“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score?”
Elizabeth regarded Lady Catherine silently, determined not to gratify her mo
nstrous assertions.
“You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment. However, I can sympathize to some extent with a girl who has only her arts and allurements to create opportunities for herself.” She reached into her reticule and extracted a document, which she held out to Elizabeth. Elizabeth hid her hands within the folds of her cloak and refused to take it or even to touch it.
“Go on, girl. It is the making of your fortune!”
Elizabeth was silent.
“Very well, then, I will do you the favor of relating the contents. I am offering you a choice. If you will sign an agreement never to see my nephew again, I will settle on you the sum of five thousand pounds, to be paid in full at the time you sign the agreement. You and that ridiculous family of yours need never worry about money again. If you invest wisely, it will yield you an adequate income. What say you to that, my girl?”
