by Meg Osborne
“Oh, you need not stand on ceremony with us, Miss Elizabeth. If you desire solitude, you may have it,” Richard said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Come along, Darcy, we must leave the lady to her walk.”
“No, I was only teasing.” Elizabeth shivered. “I was considering turning back soon anyway. It is not as warm as it looks!”
“Ah, the curse of the autumn,” Richard agreed. He glanced at his cousin, then back towards the servant who trailed after them. “Excuse me a moment, I just wish to pose a question about the grounds. Do, please, go on ahead. I will be but a moment.”
Elizabeth nodded, but Darcy visibly hesitated, before at last sighing and gesturing to her that they might continue their walk.
“How do you find the environs of Rosings, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, after they had walked a few steps in silence. “Might I inquire as to where you walked?”
Elizabeth sketched out her rough route to him, pointing out the direction she had begun, and describing how she had ended up in that particular spot.
“Why, you have missed the walled garden!” he cried, aghast. “It is the pride of the garden, Miss Elizabeth, and should still be quite beautiful even so late in the season, for the walls shelter it from the elements.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow.
“It was my mother's favourite place to sit when she visited Rosings,” he confided. “Perhaps...you might permit me to show you?”
Lizzy glanced over her shoulder, but Richard was thoroughly engaged in conversation with his servant.
“Now?”
“If you wish,” Darcy said. “Or...we might go later, if you are tired.” Anxiety crossed his features and he looked momentarily far younger than his years.
“If your cousin will not object to the diversion,” Elizabeth said. The matter was put to Richard, who was quite content to take the circuitous route back towards the house, and he recounted a particularly amusing anecdote of his and Darcy's childhood attempts to scale the walls, which had once resulted in a broken collarbone for the poor Richard Fitzwilliam.
“It's true, Miss Elizabeth, you need not look so shocked. I was not always the fine, athletic figure you see before you now. As a child, I was dreadfully uncoordinated. Darcy, here, has always had the grace and poise of a true gentleman.”
Darcy shook his head at his cousin’s good-natured teasing, but Lizzy was touched to see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, belying his usual stern expression.
“Is that a chestnut tree? We must scavenge some to take back with us,” Richard said, striding forwards. “Do not you think the ladies will delight in roasting chestnuts around the fire this afternoon?”
He did not wait for an answer, but hurried towards a large tree, bowing heavy with the tiny fruits.
“I see your cousin does not tire easily,” Lizzy remarked.
“He is all energy,” Darcy agreed. “A state which I subscribe to his excitement at the forthcoming nuptials.” They reached a small, wrought-iron bench, and he gestured towards it, whereupon they both sat. Elizabeth looked around the walled garden, enjoying the beauty of the country-style planting, and marvelling at how many plants still bloomed late in the season.
“You are quite right to speak of this garden’s beauty, Mr Darcy,” she remarked, after a happy moment of reflection. “I am grateful to you for showing it to me.”
“I thought you would appreciate it.” He was evidently pleased to have been proved correct in his assumptions. Lizzy opened her mouth to speak, and at the same moment, Mr Darcy addressed her.
“I wonder -”
“Miss Bennet, I hope -”
They both broke off, smiling ruefully at one another. Mr Darcy dropped his gaze, allowing her to continue uninterrupted.
“I must confess I never thought we should be cursed with the problem of speaking over one another, Mr Darcy,” she observed, with a laugh. “How often have we suffered the opposite, of neither of us saying a word?”
“I would humbly suggest that has rarely been your problem, Miss Bennet.” This was uttered in a dry murmur, but even Elizabeth could not miss the humour in his voice. There, again, you surprise me, Mr Darcy! she marvelled inwardly. How is it that I did not appreciate your sense of humour before now?
“I very much enjoyed showing you around Rosings yesterday,” Mr Darcy remarked. “I hope you did not find the hour too tedious.”
“No indeed!” Elizabeth said, with a smile. “It is such a beautiful house, and filled with such lovely things. I appreciated hearing a little of their history.” Her eyes dropped. “Again, you appear to know me well, for I found everything you selected to be of interest.” Her heart hammered against her chest. She ought not to speak so freely, but for some reason she could not quite explain, she felt safe to do so, even though it was to Mr Darcy she spoke.
“Perhaps you will permit me to introduce you to the library this afternoon, then,” he said, standing as Richard returned to join them. “I shall, of course, give you free reign to read whatever you wish.”
Chapter Nine
When Richard reached the parlour, he was surprised to see Mary sitting alone with Lady Catherine. He felt a tiny flash of anxiety before he determined the happy air that rested between the two.
“Richard! At long last!” Lady Catherine sighed. “We half took you for lost, did not we, Mary?”
Mary smiled, shyly, at him, and he crossed the room to greet her, taking a seat near the two women.
“Is not Anne with you?” he asked, concerned that Mary had been bored, or lonely, in their absence. “When I left this morning you were both so engrossed in playing music I thought I would have to prise your fingers from the keys.”
“We had a very lovely time,” Mary said, with a laugh. “Anne is so patient with me! But I fear I might have worn her out. She retired to her room to rest.” She glanced, nervously, at Lady Catherine, whose lips drew together in a line.
“She will soon recover, I am sure,” his aunt said. “And in her absence, I have been afforded little time to get to know your bride better. Mary has been telling me all about her sisters. There are five of you in all, is that not right?”
Mary nodded.
“And you are the middle.” Lady Catherine looked at Richard significantly. “Five daughters, and Mary the first to become engaged.”
“Yes,” Mary said. “Although -”
“Ah, yes, the eldest appears to have won Charles Bingley’s heart.” Lady Catherine spoke dismissively of Darcy’s friend, as if such a trophy were scarcely worth trying for. Richard would have found her attitude amusing, had he not been somewhat fond of Charles himself, for his friendship to Darcy and general good nature.
“Anyway,” Lady Catherine continued. “I am not surprised that my dear nephew chose you of all of them, Mary, for your disposition will make you a very capable wife, I am sure. Richard,” she turned her attention to him. “I wondered if I might speak to you about a property near her that would make an excellent home for you, once you are married. I assume you intend to settle near here rather than near Philip?” Her expression faltered a fraction. “Or do you intend to settle closer to Hertfordshire?”
“Actually, Aunt, we shall go north first. I must visit my brother, of course, and I have a wish to show Mary Pemberley, as Darcy is eager to return there.”
“Pemberley?” Lady Catherine’s eyebrows lifted. “Then you shall not stay in Kent so long?”
“I do not intend to!” Richard laughed. “I hardly think Darcy’s plans have changed: he was always for Pemberley before year’s end. But let us ask him, when he returns.”
“Yes, where is he, pray? I thought you had spent the morning together?”
“We did.” Richard leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Our path crossed with Miss Elizabeth's, who was out walking.”
“Oh?” Lady Catherine's voice was dangerously low.
“Darcy wished to show her the walled garden, so we took a turn about there. Whi
ch reminds me!” He bent, lifting his pouch to his knee and drawing one of its collected treasures forwards. “I brought us some chestnuts, Mary, I thought we might toast them in the fire this afternoon. Perhaps the scent will rouse Anne to join us. I trust you will not care to partake, Aunt?”
Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose as if she certainly not care to partake nor even to consider the prospect of roasted chestnuts.
“You have failed to illuminate us as to the whereabouts of Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth now, Richard, or did you abandon them to the elements?” She cast a hand towards the window, to illustrate the sky, which had darkened to a cloudy grey, threatening an imminent downpour.
“Not in the least! They paused only to visit the library.” Richard smiled, amused at his aunt’s discomfort. Evidently she, too, noticed the danger of permitting Darcy and Elizabeth the chance to speak together, unhindered by friends and family eavesdropping, but unlike Richard, feared it.
“The library! Here? Alone?”
“Does one not usually visit a library alone, Aunt?” Richard feigned ignorance. “You need not fear anything improper, unless you wish to besmirch Darcy’s good character. He is a gentleman, I assure you.”
“It is not Fitzwilliam’s character I am concerned about!” Lady Catherine hauled herself to her feet, and began calling out. “Fitzwilliam! I wish to speak to you! Fitzwilliam!”
There was a rustle by the door, and it opened, admitting Darcy, a little concerned at his aunt’s raised voice.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Catherine. What is the matter?”
“Oh!” Lady Catherine reached for his arm, hanging onto him wither rather more weight than was necessary. “Good. You are returned. Come, sit by me a while. I have scarcely seen you since your arrival here...”
Richard caught Darcy’s eye and smirked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief at his aunt’s behaviour.
“What was that about?” Mary asked, leaning close enough that she might whisper and still be heard by Richard, and nobody else.
“I believe my cousin was but moments away from asking a certain question of your sister,” Richard whispered back, his eyes on Darcy, who looked rather like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights, as Lady Catherine sallied forth a barrage of commentary on her current concerns.
“Truly?” Mary’s face broke into a smile. “Do not tease me, Richard. You cannot mean it?”
“Why, I cannot be certain, but I wager it is on his mind to ask it.” He searched Mary’s face. “You do not mind it?”
“It is the very thing Jane and I hope for.” Mary confided. “And Mr Darcy will be eminently better for Elizabeth than Mr Collins ever could.”
AT MR DARCY’S DEPARTURE, Elizabeth watched the empty space where he had been standing just half a moment before, before walking a step towards a chair, and sinking down into its smooth frame.
I wonder if you might permit me to consult you on a matter of some importance, Mr Darcy had said. Elizabeth had been inclined to laugh, to ask what he could possibly find so important as to require her opinion on, at two o'clock on a quiet afternoon, but when she noticed his serious expression and the way he kept his hands fixed to his side, her amusement vanished. Instantly, she anticipated the worst.
There is no problem, I hope? she had asked, her voice shaking slightly in a way that she could not control.
Problem? He had seemed surprised, and his eyebrows lifted, before drawing into one another in an expression of concern. There is no problem, in fact, I speak to you of solutions - a way of resolving certain problems we are both facing...
That had been the moment that Lady Catherine's imperious voice had broken through the quiet library, and interrupted their conversation. Mr Darcy had straightened, glanced towards the door, and evidently considered ignoring the summons, before it came again, with increasing insistence. One bow towards Elizabeth, an apologetic half-smile, and he had gone.
Elizabeth reached for a book at random from the shelf and opened it, but could not settle to reading. She scanned one page and then another, before groaning and closing the book, returning it to its home, and leaning back in her chair.
I speak to you of solutions... What solution could Mr Darcy offer to her current situation? She was at an impasse: her mother would not relent on the subject of her marrying Mr Collins, and she certainly was not about to acquiesce and surrender any chance she had at future happiness simply to please her family. Her lips quirked. No doubt that does make me selfish, as Charlotte asserts, but alas, if that is true then I must embrace my besetting sin and live with the consequences. No doubt Jane or Mary or even Kitty would happily do as Mama compels them. She thought of the eye-rolling and giggling that had taken place between her two youngest sisters whenever Mr Collins opened his mouth at the dining table and sighed. Well, perhaps none of them would quite comply happily, but I do not doubt they would obey eventually. Am I so very different to my sisters? For one startling moment, she recognised that of the four, it was Lydia who was most like her in this instance. Lydia, who never did anything other than precisely what she pleased.
This sobering thought brought her up sharp, and she straightened in her seat. I am no Lydia. But I must do as I think right, make the best decision I can for the future, and that certainly does not involve marrying Mr Collins. She felt that even more strongly than she had at Longbourn. For, here, she could see the people that she would be pressed into common society with. Lady Catherine already did not like her, that much was plain. She giggled, recalling the look of abject horror their hostess had shot her when she had confessed no skills at music, or drawing, or even needlepoint. I am utterly unaccomplished, I am afraid! she had remarked, with a self-effacing shrug of her shoulders. It did not bother her, until she lifted her eyes to Mr Darcy’s. Thinking she read disappointment in their depths made her assertion rather less amusing, and she felt a little regretful that she had not applied herself with more commitment to the learning of music, or art, or any skill that might be called “accomplished” in such a circle. “I read,” she had offered, but by comparison to Anne de Bourgh and even Mary, this did not seem an altogether endearing talent.
Hauling herself to her feet, Lizzy prowled once more around the large library, scanning the shelves in hopes she might learn something of the library's owner from its contents. After passing two shelves with fading interest, Lizzy was forced to acknowledge that these volumes were no doubt selected for their beauty and ornamentation rather than their contents. She lifted her eyes, scanning the titles for one she might recognise, and at last found the title she had pressed into Mary's hands only a few days previously. Easing it off the shelf, she dislodged a piece of paper which had been shoved in between it and its neighbour. The letter - for when she bent to retrieve it she noticed the seal was broken - bore no name, but the letter A. Instinctively, Elizabeth opened it, wondering if she ought to return it to its owner. She had not intended to read it, yet her eyes scanned the contents, and she lifted her fingers to her lips. A must be Anne, although the letter’s contents addressed a nameless “dearest love” and spoke with such bitterness of their separation that Elizabeth felt her heart sink. Poor Anne de Bourgh was nursing a broken heart, a love that could not be. Elizabeth’s eyes dropped, without meaning to, to the signature, which was also a single letter. G. Her mind raced. If only they might be reunited! She felt certain that it was Lady Catherine who had posed the unsurmountable obstacle. Her mother's disapproval would not be enough to commit Elizabeth to a lifetime of unhappiness, but she could well understand how deeply such a circumstance would confound a young woman of Anne's temperament. This letter indicated her paramour thought very well of her, and longed to be with her. He bid her slip away, and marry him, trusting that Lady Catherine would come to appreciate the wisdom of the match in time. Lizzy folded the letter and replaced it back upon the shelf. It would be foolish of Anne to take this gentleman’s advice, bringing such scandal upon herself and her family. Yet, if she was truly trapped, was there any other option?
I must try to win her confidence, she thought. Perhaps I can offer her some assistance. At the very least, it will suit me well to distract myself from my own problems by finding solutions to other people’s!
Her use of the word “solution” brought to mind Mr Darcy’s words once more. He clearly cared for his cousin's well-being, although she did not imagine the sending of letters between his cousin and the mysterious “G” would be so easily understood by him. He would see only the impropriety. But then, he does not have a romantic bone in his body, Lizzy reasoned. Everything must be logical and sensible for Mr Darcy, and appearance is all. It would help her to have him on her side, though. Perhaps there might be a way for her to gain his insight into the situation without betraying what little she suspected of Anne's predicament.
She left the library, turning towards the parlour where she could detect the rise and fall of voices. She was a little disappointed to see Anne de Bourgh not among them, but then reckoned upon it being for the best, for she certainly did not wish to speak to her new friend of her suspicions yet, and definitely not when they were in the company of those who would demand an explanation. With a deferential smile at Lady Catherine, who was commanding Mr Darcy's whole attention, Lizzy slipped wordlessly into a seat near Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary, and joined in their happy conversation, her ears pricking up as Mary mentioned her morning's music with Anne.
“She is very kind, a very amiable sort of person, only -” Mary hesitated, until Colonel Fitzwilliam prompted her to speak further and not mind any misunderstanding. “I wonder that she is a little lonely,” Mary conceded.
“Then it is good that you are both here,” Richard said, smiling first at Mary and then Elizabeth in turn. “I do not doubt she will find the confidences of two such pleasant young ladies as yourself to be of far more value than either Darcy or I.”
Elizabeth nodded, feeling a little reassured at this assertion. She would pursue a friendship with Anne, if she could, and hope that her friend trusted her enough to confide in her, before their visit drew to its close.
