by K C Kahler
Mr Collins seems to have a fondness for your L., although I am sure the qualities that attract you are quite lost on him. I occasionally must stifle giggles when he relates some comment of hers without truly understanding it. I should very much like to meet your L.
I hesitate to write this, but have you considered following your heart? I find myself dwelling on the possibility more and more often. You love your L. I know you do not make such a declaration lightly, nor would I. In my case, I spent the first few months determined to ignore and overcome my feelings. I believe this is your current resolution. Let me make a prediction: you will not succeed.
You and I are similar creatures. We have been spoilt by our parents, who allowed, encouraged, almost taught us to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond our own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world. Now, we have each fallen in love with those of whom we would think meanly. Mark my words: we, both of us, love rarely but deeply. Are we to suffer a lifetime of regret and loneliness simply because we value our station over our hearts?
I know I sound quite unlike myself. Perhaps it is the lingering melancholy from my recent encounter with C. But consider. You have been eagerly pursued by all the right sorts of ladies for these five years. They had large fortunes and good breeding. Some even had titles. Has any one of them in all that time inspired just a fraction of the emotion that your L. inspires in you after only a month? Should such a rare spark, such an extraordinary connexion, be thrown over merely for society’s expectations? I begin to think that it should not.
I fear it is too late for me. I have rebuffed C.’s subtle overtures before, and he need hardly guess why when he hears Mother speak. But you, Fitzwilliam, still have a chance to seize your happiness. Think carefully about what it is that you truly desire and what truly matters most. Dear Cousin, I pray you find your happiness. Know that I shall always support you and Georgiana in all your decisions.
Yours in commiseration,
Anne
Just when Darcy most needed reassurance from the one person who perfectly understood his dilemma, Anne sends him this advice. Just when he needed to be reminded about principles, obligation, and duty, she undercuts all his resolve. He threw the letter down in disgust.
There was another knock on the door.
“Enter!” he bit out, turning to see a hesitant Bingley standing in the doorway.
“Good God! What is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than politeness. Then recollecting himself, he asked, “Have you received bad news?”
“No, not bad exactly, just…unexpected. I…”—Darcy looked down at the letter—“I prefer not to discuss it.”
He could feel Bingley staring at him for a long moment. “Forgive me for interrupting. I came to inquire whether you wished to ride into Meryton with me, but obviously, you wish to be alone.” Bingley pivoted and reached to close the door behind him.
“Wait. Thank you, I would like to accompany you if you do not mind. I…it will be good to get outside.” Darcy smiled faintly at his friend. He knew he should not let his frustration get the better of him.
Bingley blinked at him and then the ready smile returned. “In half an hour, then?”
“Yes, I shall be ready.”
They rode towards Meryton in silence. Darcy felt a pang of guilt, knowing his moodiness was the likely reason for Bingley’s uncharacteristic quiet. As they approached the outskirts of the village, he turned to try to make some conversation, only to behold the most ridiculous grin on his friend’s face. He followed Bingley’s gaze to a group of people, five women and two men. The air rushed out of him. Elizabeth was among the group.
“I hoped we might catch them,” Bingley said. “I knew they were to visit their Aunt Philips today. I see Miss Elizabeth was able to walk all the way.”
Darcy snapped, “Why did you not tell me they might be here?”
Bingley looked intently at him. “Because I knew you would not come. The only time that damnable forlorn countenance has lifted from you in the last fortnight was when we dined with the Miss Bennets. I do not know what troubles you, but I feel compelled to cheer you somehow.” He motioned towards the five ladies.
Darcy closed his eyes. “This most certainly will not cheer me. I shall go back to the house.”
“You cannot! They have seen us.”
Just then, Darcy heard the excited exclamation of Miss Lydia, “Mr Darcy!” she cried. Bingley shrugged at him before springing forward.
Darcy cursed under his breath as he urged his mount to follow. When they reached the group, Bingley jumped down from his horse immediately, and Darcy did the same. He congratulated himself for not yet glancing at Elizabeth. He was determined not to stare at her; so he kept his eyes trained directly before him. Bingley had already taken Miss Bennet’s gloved hand in greeting. Miss Lydia stood out in front of the group, waiting for Darcy’s greeting.
“Miss Lydia.” He bowed to her, and then he quickly turned to greet each of the others behind her, from left to right: Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Mr Denny. His eyes at last rested on Elizabeth. It seemed as if time stood still. She smiled at him and murmured her greetings as she curtseyed. He was transfixed. A movement next to her intruded on Darcy’s consciousness. The second man had moved closer to Elizabeth. This annoyed Darcy, and he looked at the man, only to have the wind knocked out of him a second time.
George Wickham was there, standing next to a certain young lady.
* * *
The Bennet sisters left their Aunt Philips’s house and walked along the main thoroughfare of Meryton.
“Let us go to the milliner’s before we return home,” Kitty said.
Lydia readily agreed. A trip into the village would be wasted without a visit to the millinery shop. The pair hurried ahead of their sisters. Before entering the shop, however, Kitty spied Mr Denny and another man walking towards them.
Mary, Elizabeth, and Jane caught up just as Mr Denny addressed them. He then entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town and, he was happy to say, had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be, Lydia thought, for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour. Though not quite as pleasing to Lydia as one Mr Darcy, Mr Wickham had all the best parts of beauty—a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation.d The whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy and Bingley were seen riding down the street.
“Mr Darcy!” cried Lydia. What a delightful surprise!
Mr Bingley rode towards the group, with Mr Darcy close behind. Both gentlemen dismounted, Mr Bingley with a look that was positively gleeful. He took Jane’s hand and bowed over it in greeting. Mr Darcy had not said anything yet, so Lydia stepped forward from the group, hoping for a warm welcome similar to Mr Bingley’s for Jane. Mr Darcy bowed towards her and said in his deep voice, “Miss Lydia.” Then he turned to greet Jane, Mary, Kitty, Denny, and Lizzy. Lydia was disappointed that he had not smiled at her, but now felt a little better about it, for he had not smiled at anyone. If anything, he looked distracted.
Lydia was about to introduce him to Mr Wickham when his eyes shifted and were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger. Lydia, happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr Darcy just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.
Mr Darcy looked absolutely livid as he gathered his reins. He could not leave so soon! Lydia reconsidered her initial favourable opinion of Mr Wickham. She turned her back to him and stepped towards Mr Darcy.
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“Mr Collins is coming to stay with us again.”
He paused, glanced at her, and then glanced behind her. Lydia’s statement had succeeded in drawing another man’s attention as well.
“Mr Collins is coming back?” asked Mr Bingley.
Mr Denny and Mr Wickham bid the group farewell and departed quickly. Lizzy came to stand beside Lydia. Mr Darcy dropped his reins, much to Lydia’s relief.
Lizzy addressed Mr Bingley. “My cousin will be with us again on Monday.”
“Monday? It seems rather sudden.”
Kitty laughed. “He and Mama were scheming to surprise us! Can you imagine? We would still be ignorant of his impending arrival if not for Mary.”
Both gentlemen looked at Mary, who appeared decidedly uncomfortable under their scrutiny. “I simply noticed some peculiar menu requests for meals next week.”
“Don’t be so modest, Mary.” Lydia turned to Mr Darcy to explain. “Mr Collins raved about the boiled potatoes when he was here before, and Mary saw that my mother had ordered boiled potatoes for nearly every meal! Mary informed Lizzy of her suspicions, and Lizzy and Papa confronted Mama, who admitted everything and whined about her good joke being spoilt. She had planned not to tell any of us about it until the very day Mr Collins appeared on our doorstep!”
“And what was the reason for this subterfuge?” Mr Darcy asked her. She felt a flush of success that her story had interested him.
“Mama claims she did not want any of us to get our hopes up that Mr Collins might come to Mr Bingley’s ball before it was confirmed. What a laugh!”
“Mr Bingley,” interjected Lizzy, “I hope you do not mind the addition of one more to our party on the night of the ball.”
“No, of course not. He is family, after all. What is one more guest among so many?” Mr Bingley looked down for a moment before continuing. “In fact, I am happy to have run into you all today, for I have a question regarding the ball. Might I request the honour of the first set with Miss Bennet?”
Jane blushed and nodded her acceptance. Lydia thought the scene a very sweet one.
Mr Bingley beamed as he turned towards the others. “And as I see that your ankle is well enough for walking, I assume it will be well enough for dancing, Miss Elizabeth. May I request the second set?”
Lizzy laughed. “Oh yes. I intend to teach my irksome ankle a lesson over the next week with ample walking and much dancing. I gratefully look forward to our set.”
Mr Bingley proceeded to ask Mary, Kitty, and Lydia each for a dance on the night of the ball. What an agreeable fellow! When he had five dances secure, he turned to Jane again. “Would it be too much to ask you, Miss Bennet, for the supper set as well?”
Jane returned his gaze. “I shall be honoured, Mr Bingley.”
The group fell quiet, and the silence was a bit awkward for all but the two people gazing intently at each other. Mr Darcy seemed to be very interested in the gravel on the road.
Mr Bingley finally roused himself. “Now, if we can only persuade Darcy to dance, my ball will be a complete success!”
Mr Darcy appeared decidedly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the group. “No doubt I shall dance, though I cannot promise that it will be very much.”
Lydia hoped that continuing to talk about dancing would urge Mr Darcy to ask her for the first set. “But you dance so well, Mr Darcy! We all saw you at the assembly. Why should you dislike an activity you perform with such skill?”
Lizzy interjected, “Lydia, you make the neatest stitches of any of us, and yet you despise your needlework.”
“Good lord, you cannot seriously compare needlework to dancing!”
“How can any of us account for our preferences and inclinations? Society expects certain activities from each of us, that we may come to resent those very activities.”
Mr Darcy stared at Lizzy as she finished speaking. Then he gathered his reins and cleared his throat. “If you would excuse me, I must return to Netherfield. Bingley no longer requires my company, and I have much business to occupy me.” He bowed towards each of them as he said his goodbyes. With a parting glance at Mr Bingley, he mounted and rode away.
Mr Bingley sighed and shook his head. “I am not so eager to depart from your company, ladies. Will you allow me to escort you home?”
They agreed promptly, and the sextet made their way out of Meryton. Kitty never did get to the millinery shop.
Lydia kicked a stone on the road as she walked back to Longbourn. She should have been pleased after unexpectedly meeting Mr Darcy. Instead, she was frustrated. He was even more reticent than usual. Lydia would have doubted such a thing possible before today. She kicked another stone. It skipped in front of her and ricocheted off Kitty’s heel.
“Ouch!” Kitty yelled, causing Jane and Mr Bingley to stop and turn. Kitty spun around and glared.
“Lydia is very sorry, Kitty. She did not mean to strike you.” Lizzy elbowed Lydia.
“Yes. Sorry, Kitty.”
Kitty harrumphed. “If you must kick stones, I insist you walk in front.”
“I shan’t kick any more, I promise.”
The group continued on, with Jane and Mr Bingley leading the way towards Longbourn, followed by Mary and Kitty and, finally, Lydia and Elizabeth.
“Lizzy, will you teach me about literature?”
Her sister started to laugh but stopped when Lydia caught her eyes. “Literature? What has brought on this sudden interest?”
“I wish to be able to speak about literature. It seems the only thing that interests Mr Darcy. If I am to catch him, I must learn.” Lydia thought this a brilliant plan. Surely, if she put so much effort into catching a husband, she would be successful.
“I am happy to help you learn literature if your aim is to improve yourself. But you ought not play at being studious simply to catch a husband.”
“But becoming Mr Darcy’s wife would improve me. If I must discuss books with him to do it, then I shall. By the time of the ball, I hope to be able to speak about literature as you do.”
Lizzy stifled more laughter. “The ball? It is but a week away. You could not possibly become well versed in literature by then, even if you spent every hour from now until the first dance set reading.”
“Must I read so very much? Can’t you just tell me about these books?”
Lizzy laughed outright. “A man as clever as Mr Darcy would quickly discover that you were only pretending. You saw at dinner how easily he returned all my best barbs.”
“I suppose such a clever man would want a clever wife,” said Lydia glumly. She sighed and kicked another stone, which skipped past Kitty just barely.
Elizabeth took Lydia’s arm. “Mr Darcy has very high standards for whom he considers an accomplished lady.” She turned her nose up and said in a mock deep voice, “‘The improvement of her mind by extensive reading’ is only the most important of these standards.”
“Did he say that when you stayed at Netherfield?” Lizzy nodded. “What else did he say?” This could be very helpful information indeed.
Elizabeth sighed. “One thing at a time, please. I shall pick out two books for you to read this week—two books I know you will enjoy. We shall make a start there. At the ball, you can ask Mr Darcy if he wishes to discuss them.”
“But may I discuss them with you first? I do not wish to make a fool of myself.”
“Yes, you may, if you will make me a promise. If you enjoy those two books, you will read two more that I recommend after the ball. The improvement of your mind is a worthwhile pursuit, whether or not any man ever knows about it.”
“Very well. Do you think Papa would discuss these books with me too? Perhaps he will not think me so silly anymore.”
“Yes, we three will discuss them together, and Papa will know that you can be witty too, Liddy”
“I should like that.” Lydia looked up at the thinning canopy for a moment. “Lizzy, did you notice the strange interaction between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham?”
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br /> “I most certainly did. How could one not notice? Except for Kitty, of course.”
“Of course. And perhaps Jane and Mr Bingley.” Lydia motioned towards the much-absorbed couple ahead of them. “But what can it mean? They must have been previously acquainted.”
“Yes, but I cannot imagine what would cause such a cold greeting. Mr Darcy appeared positively furious. It is very strange.”
“Very strange,” agreed Lydia.
The group approached Longbourn. They all entered the front door, but Mr Bingley immediately asked to see Mr Bennet and disappeared. The girls went into the sitting room.
“Jane, where has Mr Bingley gone?” asked Lizzy.
Jane turned to embrace her. “I am the happiest creature in the world! Mr Bingley has asked permission to court me formally, and I have given it. He now speaks to Papa. ’Tis too much!, By far too much; I do not deserve it. Oh! I am so happy!”
“Oh Jane, you deserve it more than anyone!” cried Lizzy, before releasing Jane so that all of her excited sisters might embrace her.
“You will have the most wonderful time at the ball now!” added Lydia. “Everyone will know that Mr Bingley is courting you. Everyone will know that he has fallen madly in love with you.”
Jane soon went to find their mother, who would no doubt receive the news with much satisfaction. Despite her disappointment in what had happened in Meryton, Lydia would not give up on Mr Darcy yet. No doubt she would be in company with him more often now that Jane and Mr Bingley were courting. She could not let herself be discouraged, for she had two books to read. At the ball, surely he would reward her efforts.
