by K C Kahler
“Elizabeth?”
“You remember the lively discussions they have had together here?”
“Lizzy is always going on about books. But as I recall, you were also a part of those discussions, following all your effort at reading. And your father was as well.” Mrs Bennet motioned towards Mr Bennet, who no longer held his book but rather peered at Lydia over his coffee.
She ignored him, hoping to get back to her object. “I did participate a little. You know, Lizzy told me that she and Mr Darcy have very similar taste in books. When she stayed at Netherfield, he loaned her several from his personal collection because Mr Bingley’s library is so meagre.”
“That was very kind of him.”
It was clear Mrs Bennet was already tiring of the subject and remained entirely oblivious to what Lydia meant to imply. “I imagine they had several lively discussions over the course of her stay there and became much better acquainted with each other while Jane and Mr Bingley were falling in love.”
That did it. “Better acquainted,” Mrs Bennet murmured to herself. “But he does not think her handsome.”
“Remember what John used to say of Lizzy’s beauty? One does not see it just by looking at her, but by speaking with her. Mr Darcy has spoken with her many times now.”
Mrs Bennet gulped. “Yes, many times.”
“Perhaps he has reconsidered his first impression. She was the only one he asked to dance at Lucas Lodge, was she not?” Lydia knew perfectly well that she was.
“Yes, now that I think of it. I was so focused on Lizzy and Mr Lucas that… Mr Lucas! What about him?” Mrs Bennet looked between Lydia and Mr Bennet.
“Perhaps, Mrs Bennet, you should set aside your matchmaking schemes. Our daughters have the matter well in hand, it seems.”
“Lydia, you really do not wish to catch Mr Darcy any longer?”
“No, Mama. I do not wish to catch anyone. I would rather someone care for me the way Mr Bingley cares for Jane.”
Mr Bennet gave one slow nod. Mrs Bennet was kept from replying by the appearance of Mary in the breakfast room, who greeted them all, giving Lydia an appraising glance before sitting across from her. Mrs Bennet, with much on which to ruminate, ate in silence for some time. Jane and Kitty joined them soon, and the typical breakfast conversation resumed.
Just as Lydia was about to take her leave, Elizabeth returned, ebullient. She greeted them all in turn and took her seat.
“How was your walk, Lizzy?” Mary asked, and Lydia nearly laughed aloud at her blank expression. Lydia would not be fooled by Mary’s feigned disinterest any longer.
“Splendid,” Elizabeth said before recalling herself. “That is, most of the mud has dried. The road is much improved.”
“Thank goodness. I must visit Mrs Philips today,” said Mrs Bennet.
“Oh, Mama, that would be ill advised. I…chanced upon Mr Darcy on his morning ride. He said—”
“Mr Darcy?!” Now Elizabeth had her mother’s full attention.
“Y-yes, Mr Darcy. He said he planned to call on you today with his aunt and cousin to thank you for the use of our carriage and to inquire after theirs.”
Mrs Bennet pushed back from the table. “Then I certainly shall not go out! There is much to be done. I must speak with Cook. And Hill. And, oh dear, what did Thomas say about the de Bourgh carriage?” Her voice faded away down the hallway.
“Well, Lizzy, I hope you are satisfied. Your mother will be occupied with nothing but getting fish on the unlikely chance that Lady Catherine accepts an invitation to stay for dinner,” Mr Bennet said. “Lydia, have you finished your meal?”
“Yes, Papa.”
She rose, wondering what he might wish to say.
“Let us go to the library.”
When they reached their destination, he closed the door and indicated that she should sit. He leaned against the front of the desk. “I get the distinct impression that ‘walks’ taken by my daughters involve a bit more than walking. Should I know anything in particular about yesterday?”
Lydia shrugged. “You may wish to speak to Lizzy as she is the one who takes all the walks.”
“Indeed I shall ask Lizzy, if you send her in when you go. But first, I have a few more questions for you to evade.”
Lydia leaned forward, taking a quill off Mr Bennet’s desk. She needed something to occupy her hands while under his scrutiny.
“I trust you meant what you said to your mother. You have relinquished any aspirations of marriage involving Mr Darcy?”
“Yes.” She ran the quill between her fingers over and over, hoping he would lose interest.
“You do not wish to elaborate? That is rather unlike you. Perhaps you were scared off by his gruesome aunt?”
She dared to meet his eye. “Papa! You are teasing me!”
He chuckled. “I am. But in all seriousness, it is heartening to see you give more deliberation to such a weighty matter as marriage. There is no need to rush, Lydia. You are young and growing less and less silly every day, it seems.”
“Am I no longer one of the silliest girls in England?”
“No. Kitty is the sole boaster of that title now.”
She tried not to laugh. “Papa, it hurts a girl’s feelings to hear her father say such things.”
“I suppose the only remedy is to find some way of making Kitty less silly. Do you think we might persuade her to read and discuss books with us too?”
“She will likely only agree to read gothic novels, which means you would have to read them too, if they are to be discussed.”
He grimaced. “Perhaps Kitty and I can work out a bargain. For every horrid gothic novel I read, she will read two books of worth.”
“You may propose it, but she will hold fast to a more equitable exchange.”
“Each of my daughters is obstinate in her way.” He sounded rather proud of it. “Well, if you will procure Kitty’s favourite novel for me, I shall read it and astonish her one night by singing the praises of the dashing hero.”
Lydia laughed, “What a fine joke! I shan’t spoil it.”
He took the quill from her, saying quietly, “You are a good girl, Lydia.”
She rose hastily to leave, swallowing the lump in her throat. Then, on an impulse, she embraced him. He returned the gesture rather awkwardly but not reluctantly. Lydia could not remember the last time he had hugged her. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered before exiting the library.
* * *
Kitty was the first to spy the Bingley carriage coming up the lane that afternoon. Upon this discovery, frantic orders to straighten skirts and pinch cheeks were given to all present.
Kitty kept them informed on the view from the window. “They are getting out of the carriage now. It is Mr Darcy! And Mr Bingley! Now they are helping Lady Catherine out of the carriage. And now Miss de Bourgh.”
“Come away from the window,” Mrs Bennet cried. “Now, girls, make yourselves look respectably occupied. Kitty, my dear, try not to say too much. Mary, for goodness sake, child, must you constantly have fingers stained with ink? There’s no time to clean them now; you must hide them. Jane, you sit here, yes. Now Lizzy…”
Mrs Bennet arranged them to her liking until Hill finally announced, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Miss de Bourgh, Mr Darcy, and Mr Bingley.”
“What a splendid surprise! You are very welcome, Lady Catherine…”
As Mrs Bennet fawned over her distinguished guests, Lydia wondered that Lizzy did not melt under Mr Darcy’s fervent gaze. Soon though, Mrs Bennet had gushed long enough over Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. “Mr Darcy, we are so very pleased to see you well! And we cannot apologise enough for alarming your dear relations yesterday. We were quite misinformed.”
“It was an innocent misunderstanding. Your man, Thomas, explained that he was most likely the source of the confusion. But enough of that, I believe I have some introductions to make.” Mr Darcy proceeded to introduce Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh to each of them by name. T
here were curtseys and smiles exchanged, though not by Lady Catherine. She merely inclined her head.
“And this young lady is Miss Lydia Bennet,” Mr Darcy concluded.
“Mother and I had the pleasure of speaking briefly with Miss Lydia yesterday. Is that not so, Mother?” Miss de Bourgh said as she curtseyed.
Lady Catherine paused and inclined her head again before Mrs Bennet insisted everyone sit.
“How is Mr Hurst?” Jane asked of Mr Bingley, who of course had taken a seat next to his betrothed.
“He seems to be recuperating. Today he begged me to pour some brandy into what he called ‘Lucas’s revolting swill.’ Luckily, Mr Lucas was not offended.”
The Bennets laughed. “No, he would not be,” said Elizabeth. She turned to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. “Thomas took your carriage into Meryton this morning. The wheelwright promises that it will be ready for your use within two days.”
“That is much sooner than we had expected. Is it not, Mother?”
Lady Catherine nodded once. Her ladyship’s attention, more often than not, was squarely on Lydia, who was amused rather than intimidated by it.
Miss de Bourgh continued, “You must thank Thomas for acting so quickly. He took prodigiously good care of us. Did he not, Mother?” Miss de Bourgh’s inquiry was met with yet another inclination of the head.
Thus progressed the conversation for a number of minutes. Eventually, the combined efforts of Jane, Lizzy, Mr Bingley, Miss de Bourgh, and Mrs Bennet coaxed Lady Catherine into participating more. Lydia suspected this was by design, for Mr Darcy soon stood and exited as discreetly as possible. She was overset with panic that he might feel duty bound to tell Mr Bennet of her ordeal with Mr Wickham. She followed, somewhat less discreetly if Lady Catherine’s gaze was any indication, and caught up to Mr Darcy just as he was about to knock on the library door.
“Mr Darcy!” she whispered.
He startled, then whispered, “Yes?”
“You will not tell my father everything that happened yesterday, will you?”
“I gave my word that I would not.”
She exhaled in relief. “Yes, of course. I am sorry to bother you.” She smiled. “Carry on.”
“Wait, Miss Lydia, are you well?”
She knew his concern was genuine. “Yes. I am simply ashamed of my behaviour.”
“Ashamed? But it was not your fault.”
“I am not blameless.” He began to protest, but she held up her hand. “Please let us never discuss it again. Besides, you have important business with my father.”
He looked towards the door. “Have you any advice?”
“Do not let him fool you. Your visit is not wholly unexpected.”
The door in question suddenly opened. “I thought I heard voices, though I had little notion of their belonging to the two people who now stand before me.”
“Papa, Mr Darcy wishes a word with you. I showed him the way to the library.”
Mr Bennet had a telling twinkle in his eye. “But Mr Darcy has been in my library before—on the day of the picnic, if I recall. What was it we discussed then?”
Lydia made her escape, returning to her seat in the drawing room. Lady Catherine certainly took notice but said nothing. In fact, for the next quarter of an hour, Lady Catherine had no part in the conversation at all. She spent this time with her eyes fixed either on Lydia or on the door, the very one that so often drew Elizabeth’s gaze. At the conclusion of this interval, two came through it: Mr Bennet and Mr Darcy.
“Mr Bennet, allow me to introduce Lady Catherine de Bourgh, my aunt, and Miss de Bourgh, my cousin.”
In the ensuing conversation, Mr Darcy was all nervous energy except when he and Elizabeth locked gazes from across the room, then he was all dazed grin. Finally, Mr Bennet came to the announcement all save two in the room were expecting.
“As distinguished as our illustrious guests are, today is auspicious for another reason. With five lovely daughters, perhaps one day such announcements will feel commonplace. But I must admit, I remain rather stunned with the novelty of it all.” He held out his hand. “Elizabeth, my dear, please join me.”
A flushed Elizabeth crossed the room and took Mr Bennet’s hand. He patted hers as he began again, “Today, Mr Darcy has requested, and been given, my consent and my blessing to marry our Lizzy.”
Reaction was immediate and varied: cheers, laughter, squeals, tearful embraces, hearty handshakes. But the aforementioned two in the room were rather more subdued. Mrs Bennet sat and blinked, looking around the room from person to person. Lady Catherine sat and stared, unblinking and unseeing.
Mrs Bennet recovered first. “My dear Lizzy! I had not the slightest inkling until this morning! And then I feared giving any encouragement because you are always so contrary whenever I set to matching you!”
Elizabeth laughed. “Not this time, Mama. This time I am most compliant.”
“Oh, but you will have a grand life! And Mr Darcy—so tall and so handsome! What a fine pair you make!”
“Mother, it seems you have two weddings to attend in the near future. Will you not join me now in wishing Fitzwilliam joy?” Miss de Bourgh asked the last with much uncertainty in her voice.
The room quieted.
“Nephew, as you said last night, you are your own master. I wish you joy—for myself and for my dear sister, your mother, whose dearest wish was for her children’s happiness.”
After a short silence, Mrs Bennet proclaimed, “You must all stay for dinner!”
Fitzwilliam Darcy was a man distracted. To most observers, this was not unusual; he often seemed distracted when in company—staring out a window, appearing deep in thought. But before, he merely wanted to avoid the attentions of the fortune hunters, social climbers, or other unsavoury characters who often sought to ingratiate themselves to him.
This time, as he stood in Netherfield’s drawing room on Christmas Eve, a fortnight after his joyous engagement, his mind was more agreeably engaged by the woman he was to wed in three months’ time. She sat on the floor with a group that ranged in age from six to seventy. It consisted of the four Gardiner children, along with Lydia Bennet and the three Lucas brothers. But the eldest person taking part in the merry games on the floor was Mrs Fenton, Hurst’s grandmother. Nearby, Mary Bennet played Christmas tunes from memory on the pianoforte. Bingley, Jane, Miss Bingley and Miss Lucas were conversing near the fireplace. Opposite them, Mrs Bennet, Mr and Mrs Philips, and Sir William and Lady Lucas were gossiping and boasting to Mrs Gardiner, who had arrived with her family from London several days ago.
Darcy stood with Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner at the edge of the room, but he only caught parts of their conversation, distracted as he was by a certain young lady. Mr Bennet directed amused glances at him. Though Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflowed in mirth, he had come to accept that he must constantly appear the besotted fool, at least to Mr Bennet. He could not help it, nor would he wish to return to those days of hiding his regard for Elizabeth and being aloof and detached from the happiness around him. How could one maintain grave silence in company such as this? These people might not be fashionable or boast of great connexions; some of them were even vulgar. But they were genuine, they cared for one another, and a number of them would soon be his family.
His family. It would grow to include not just two lonely siblings, but all these sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Darcy heard Georgiana laughing as she sat with a group gathered around a fashion magazine. Mrs Regina Hurst and Mrs Piper pointed out their preferences to Kitty, Maria Lucas, and Georgiana.
Georgiana appeared happy and was surprisingly chatty. Elizabeth had been correct—his sister needed female companions and confidantes nearer her age. How fortunate that his betrothed had a bevy of sisters and friends to offer! In securing his own happiness, Darcy had secured Georgiana’s as well. Her joy at his impending marriage could not be contained. When he had finally introduced her to his betrothed, Elizabeth had
overcome Georgiana’s initial timidity and, as usual, set her at ease with the same kindness and liveliness that charmed everyone.
Seeing and hearing the good cheer all around him, Darcy could imagine his Christmases to come, gathered in another drawing room at Pemberley. Many of those present today would be there, but so would others: his own cousins, aunts, and uncles, and, hopefully, his own children. Pemberley would be filled with the laughter of family again, and he owed it all to Elizabeth. He could never express, never repay, all she had given him, though he would make his best attempt at it.
Bingley was the first to notice Mrs Hurst enter the drawing room. “Ah, Louisa. We are so glad you have joined us.” Everyone else added their welcome.
“Thank you all. Reginald is fatigued and requires some rest. He bade me to partake in the festivities for a while and to bring him an eggnog when I return.” Hurst was sounding more and more like himself.
Mrs Hurst made her way over to watch the Gardiner children in their game, where Mrs Fenton vociferously invited her to join them. Elizabeth took advantage of the resulting repositioning to excuse herself. She went to one of the windows, catching Darcy’s eye on her way. Eager to join her, Darcy turned towards Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner. “If you will ex—”
“We shall certainly grieve for the loss of your contribution to the conversation, Mr Darcy.” Mr Bennet waved him away with a chuckle. Darcy could only smirk apologetically before striding to the window.
A certain young lady awaited. “You are taciturn tonight, Mr Darcy.”
“I am simply beguiled by my betrothed.”
“Then you will not mind answering some rather forward questions for her?”
“Not at all.”
“When did you learn my middle name?”
He had not expected such a question. “When did I— Well, it was when you stranded yourself on the staircase after your sprained ankle. Jane called you by your full name when she scolded you.”
She nodded. “And when did you fall in love with me? How could you begin? I can comprehend your going on charmingly when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”
