Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

by J P Christy

  “Yes.”

  “Imagine such responsibility multiplied by five,” Mr. Bennet said, giving the younger man an arch look. At the pained expression that overtook Darcy’s face, he laughed.

  Ordinarily, a morning visit would have lasted no more than half an hour; however, the Netherfield party stayed for twice that. Still, except for Lydia (who was sulking about being in the presence of dear Wickham’s tormentors) and Mr. Bennet (who tired easily and wished to retreat to his study), the Bennets were quite happy to spend time with their guests. Bingley and Fitzwilliam were embraced as old friends, and Georgiana was welcomed as a delightful new friend. As for Darcy, the Bennets’ reactions ranged from curious to disapproving, for he said very little, and his serious mien did not give him an air of congeniality.

  Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness beyond anything her family suspected: the disastrous proposal, her fierce rejection, and her shame at believing Wickham’s lies. Glancing at Darcy now, she felt a twinge of annoyance, for his demeanor seemed as aloof as ever. No, I must not make judgments about him. I was in error once before; in fact, more than once.

  With a conscious effort, she shifted her attention to Miss Darcy, who was answering a question from Jane. Clearly, the young lady was shy, but there was no improper pride in her. Oh, Wickham, you rogue—your description of Miss Darcy was yet another of your calumnies!

  Georgiana said, “Miss Elizabeth, my cousin Anne sent me such interesting accounts of the time she spent with you.”

  Oh dear, did Anne repeat anything I said about Mr. Darcy? Cautiously, Elizabeth said, “Your cousin was all kindness to me.”

  “Interesting accounts of Lizzy?” Jane asked. “I am aware that whatever you report is hearsay, Miss Darcy, but I am most curious to know how Lizzy conducts herself away from her family.”

  “Jane!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “Anne called you witty and a lively conversationalist.”

  “Was the word ‘impertinent’ not mentioned?” Jane teased. “Some say it is her defining characteristic.”

  Elizabeth shrugged in mock despair. “Alas, I must own who I am.”

  Is this what it is like to have sisters? How envious I am! Georgiana thought. Aloud, she said, “Anne is the female cousin who is closest to me in age, yet she is some ten years my senior. As I have only one brother and no sisters, being with your family is a new experience.”

  “How do you fill your days if you are not quarreling with sisters as to which of you is to have a particular ribbon or a bit of lace?” Elizabeth asked.

  While Georgiana conversed with Elizabeth, Jane glanced around the room and noticed five things in short order: Mr. Bingley kept looking at her while her mother chatted at him; Kitty, with rare confidence, was speaking to the colonel; Mary wanted to speak with Miss Darcy; Lydia did not want to speak with anyone; and Mr. Darcy seemed to be equal parts wary and disapproving.

  Jane returned her attention to Georgiana, who was explaining, “Mrs. Annesley, my companion, teaches me French and guides me in the social graces and household management. Yet, I confess my greatest pleasures are reading novels and playing the pianoforte.”

  “Allow me introduce our sister Mary.” Jane rose and gestured to the middle Bennet daughter. Mary approached diffidently and was ushered into the seat Jane had just relinquished. “Miss Darcy says one of her greatest joys is playing the pianoforte.”

  Georgiana recognized her cue. “Do you play, too, Miss Mary?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of all the Bennets, Mary is the most accomplished musically,” Elizabeth said.

  “Who are your favorite composers?” Georgiana asked.

  Mary said, “I am happy to tell you, but I worry I will bore you with my talk of music.”

  “Oh, Miss Mary, it is entirely possible that you and I are kindred souls,” Georgiana said. Smiling at this comment, Jane left them to their conversation and joined Bingley and Mrs. Bennet.

  Darcy, feeling overwhelmed by a roomful of Bennets, drew into himself. Casting a protective eye on his sister, he was relieved to see Georgiana’s enjoyment of the friendliness of Elizabeth and Mary. Then, as surreptitiously as he could, he examined Jane’s countenance as she conversed with Bingley. While telling himself he could not be certain Jane’s heart was engaged, he could not deny that Bingley looked happier than he had in months.

  Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, noting his stern expression. Does he see we are not all savages? When his gaze suddenly met hers, he gave her a cautious smile. Surprised, she smiled reflexively, searching his face for any trace of resentment. Finding none, she felt her mood lighten. She did not expect him to renew his addresses, but if Jane and Mr. Bingley married, then she and Mr. Darcy would surely be in company on occasion. Would it not be better for everyone if we could meet as friends? Might this be a new beginning for us? Then, fearing her thoughts could be read on her face, she looked away.

  Watching Elizabeth speak with the others, Darcy saw the liveliness that had bewitched him, but when her eyes met his, he detected a wariness, as if she expected some unpleasantness. When she looked away, he was disappointed. Are you afraid I have come to expose your secret—your letter? I never would. I want to show you I have attended to your words. I must smile; I must show you that I think well of you!

  For the rest of the visit, Darcy strove to maintain a pleasant expression; however, because Elizabeth avoided looking at him, she did not notice. Instead, a righteous indignation began to flame within her. If Mr. Darcy only came to be grave and silent, why did he come at all? To protect his sister from the boisterous Bennets, I suppose.

  When the Netherfield party took its leave, Fitzwilliam handed Georgiana into the carriage and climbed in after her. Bingley caught Darcy’s eye and gestured for him to enter the vehicle, hoping to prolong—if just for a few moments—his time with Jane.

  A frustrated Darcy refused to take the hint. This will not do! I have not had a private moment with Elizabeth. To everyone’s surprise, he said, “Go on without me, Bingley. I prefer to walk. Miss Elizabeth, would you be so kind as to point me toward the best way to Netherfield? You are an expert, I believe.”

  Elizabeth stared at him, eyes wide. What is he up to? He scarcely said a word to me or anyone during his visit, and now he wants my advice?

  Bingley climbed reluctantly into the carriage and departed. Mrs. Bennet gave Darcy a speculative look before turning to the house, shepherding her youngest daughters ahead of her. Only Jane remained in the driveway, watching warily.

  Darcy gave Jane a respectful nod before turning to her sister. “Well, Miss Elizabeth?”

  I am not afraid of you! she thought, squaring her shoulders. Gesturing at the stone wall separating the rock drive from the adjacent property, she led him to it. “As you know, Meryton is between Longbourn and Netherfield. But you may skirt the town and cross the fields for a shorter walk. At a spot to the right of the tree, you will find the first stile to cross. Now, note the old barn there—Bishop’s barn it is called.”

  “The grayish building of weathered wood?”

  “The only building in view from this direction,” she said dryly. To her consternation, he was smiling.

  “Yes, I see it.”

  “If you keep the barn on your left, you should reach your destination within an hour.”

  “Thank you. And I thank you for the friendliness with which you welcomed my sister.”

  When she gave Darcy a shallow curtsy, he bowed. “It is my turn, madam, to acknowledge my regret for the tenor of our last conversation. I wish you good day, and I look forward to seeing you again.” Following her directions, he headed across the field.

  A moment later, Jane was at her elbow. “That farewell looked very mysterious.”

  “He is an unexpected fellow.” Elizabeth’s confusion gave way to a feeling of relief that Darcy addressed her with such civility.

  “It seems Mr. Darcy had no idea the colonel had been our house guest. What do you make of that?” Jane asked, taking
her sister’s arm and steering her toward the house.

  “I do not know.” Elizabeth would have preferred to watch Darcy’s retreating form but could not say so.

  ≈≈≈

  On the walk from Longbourn to Netherfield, Darcy tried to make sense of his feelings. For nearly a month, Elizabeth had been his constant companion in his thoughts. Both in her letter and in his imaginings of her, she had mocked his notions about what it meant to be a gentleman. Now, after coming face to face with her again, he felt relieved they could meet without rancor, but he was frustrated that he could not discern her feelings.

  I don’t know what to think! Was she pleased to see me? She made no effort to converse with me, but showed no reticence when I asked her about walking to Netherfield.

  When Darcy reached the second stile, he paused at the top to sit. Glancing behind him, he saw Longbourn; ahead of him, a stand of trees blocked his view of Netherfield. Elizabeth was kind to my sister … no, more than kind, she was welcoming. No doubt Wickham said slanderous things about Georgiana, yet Elizabeth embraced her with friendliness.

  Recalling his sister’s look of happiness as she chatted with the Bennets, Darcy smiled, adding a prayer of thanks that Lydia had kept herself apart from the others. Upon resuming his walk, he congratulated himself on his efforts to address Elizabeth’s reproofs. I have apologized to Bingley, and he is reunited with Miss Bennet. I have revealed Wickham to his commander. What more is there for me to do here?

  At once, his thoughts were filled with Elizabeth’s image: the lively intelligence in her fine eyes, and her arch expression, which demanded he reconsider his presumptions. Sighing, he murmured, “I am in great danger of the lady making me in love with her—truly in love with her. But this time I will not declare my intentions until I am certain she will welcome them.”

  ≈≈≈

  That afternoon, Bingley led Georgiana, Fitzwilliam, and Darcy a tour of Netherfield on horseback, but he was so distracted by thoughts of Jane that Darcy, who knew the estate as well as his host, found himself providing many of the details.

  During dinner, Georgiana talked excitedly about her conversations with the Bennet daughters, and Bingley spoke of various topics but invariably managed to end with a praise of Jane. Fitzwilliam was his usual jovial self, yet he seemed to prefer observing to speaking. As for Darcy, he responded when questions were directed at him but he, too, seemed to prefer observing.

  Mrs. Annesley studied the others but kept her impressions to herself. She looked forward to meeting the Bennets, as it had been arranged for them to visit on the morrow. Of one thing she was certain: their company had been very good for Georgiana.

  When everyone else had retired, Darcy and Fitzwilliam savored glasses of brandy in the sitting room between their bedrooms. Darcy remarked, “I hoped Bingley would be calmer after Miss Bennet welcomed his renewed attentions. Yet, if anything, he is even more high-spirited.”

  “Do you disapprove?”

  “Fitz, your family and mine share a certain disinclination for displays of emotion.”

  “Well, for any emotion not associated with hunting or horse racing. We are reflections of our culture and class.”

  “Agreed. However, if Bingley hopes to be embraced by the gentry, he needs to … to .…”

  “To feel less?”

  “To show less.”

  “Ah.”

  After several silent moments, Darcy asked, “I am still unclear as to why you were a house guest of the Bennets last week.”

  “I was here on army business.”

  “And?”

  “And afterward, I rode through Meryton, where I happened to see Miss Elizabeth and her sisters. They were conversing with two militiamen, one of whom had served with me on the Continent. Then Miss Lydia invited me to dinner.”

  “Presumably before she knew your connection to Wickham.”

  “And my connection to you, yes. During dinner, there was a fierce rainstorm. I did not wish to return to London in such foul weather, so I inquired about a cot in the militia camp. Then Mrs. Bennet insisted I stay in the guest room. Say what you will about her, she sets a good table, and she kindly offered the comforts of home to a man who was a stranger.”

  “And the son of an earl.”

  “The second son,” he reminded. “What is it like for you to be back in Hertfordshire?”

  Darcy considered the question carefully. “Well, as I made a cake of myself last year, I suppose I feel a bit embarrassed.”

  “Are you happy you came?”

  Darcy did not have to consider that. “Indeed I am.”

  “I shall take your word for it, though at Longbourn you did not seem happy.”

  “How did I seem?”

  “Reluctant to be there. Disapproving. Disengaged.”

  “Oh. Oh damn,” Darcy muttered.

  “Georgiana was quite delighted to be with ladies her own age.”

  “Fitz, do you ever worry that bachelors such as ourselves should not be raising a young lady?”

  “Of course. Fortunately, Mrs. Annesley is here. Still, Cousin, I think at least one of us ought to get married—and rather soon. Shall we roll dice to see which of us will make the sacrifice?”

  “Very amusing, cousin; I shall laugh myself to sleep,” Darcy replied sarcastically. Much later, when sleep seemed an impossibility, he wondered, Does Elizabeth see I have changed?

  17

  “He must show her his better self.”

  May 22, 1811

  As had been agreed, the Bennets called at Netherfield Park on the following day. Their number, however, was diminished by the absence of Mr. Bennet (who said he had met his obligation when he called at the estate the previous September), Lydia (who insisted she had a headache), and Mrs. Bennet (whom Lydia had convinced to remain and keep her company). Thus, dressed in their finest clothes for social calls, four Bennet daughters emerged from the family carriage with much good cheer, and Norris led them to the drawing room where Georgiana waited with Bingley, Fitzwilliam, Darcy, and Mrs. Annesley.

  Darcy made certain his chair was next to Elizabeth’s. Although he could not have said what he expected from her, he needed to be near her. Maybe she will banter with me as she did when she was here last year to care for Jane during her illness. A sudden, unwelcome thought offered this correction: Yes, in the days when I thought Elizabeth was flirting but, in fact, she was mocking me.

  For several moments, Darcy and Elizabeth sat in awkward silence, but just as he was about to make an inane observation regarding the weather, she said, “Miss Darcy is charming and lovely. Her air of confidence is unusual for one so young.”

  “On Georgiana’s behalf, I thank you.” Darcy gave his first real smile since the Bennets’ arrival.

  During the half-hour visit, there were more lengthy silences between them interspersed with uninspired remarks about the weather (it was good), the road from Meryton to Netherfield (it was fair), and the excessive spending of the Prince Regent (bad). Also, Elizabeth and Darcy suspected themselves to be the object of scrutiny, as often occurs when one has a guilty secret and believes that others know of it. Yet, today’s visit was more comfortable than their meeting of yesterday, and both were grateful to have had some conversation.

  When the Bennets said their farewells, Elizabeth was pleased she had not felt goaded into a display of temper. However, Darcy was disappointed by the lack of charming banter. Still, he felt encouraged by her smile when they parted, into which he read shyness, relief, and hopefulness—emotions exactly matching his own. He told himself, We have so misunderstood each other that we fear making such mistakes again. We are building trust; after all, Rome was not built in a day.

  ≈≈≈

  “Well, Mrs. Annesley?” Georgiana asked at nuncheon, “What did you think of the Bennets?”

  “I found them to be lovely young ladies,” she replied. “There is an openness about them which some in the ton would deride, but this minor deficiency—if, indeed, the word app
lies—could easily be remedied by a bit of gentle instruction.”

  “You like them!” Georgiana exclaimed.

  “I do.”

  Darcy listened to the exchange with interest. Of course, a bit of gentle instruction! As I received from my father and uncle; as Georgiana has received from Mrs. Annesley and Aunt Amanda. I must not mistake style for substance; style can be learned.

  ≈≈≈

  That afternoon, an urgent letter arrived for Mrs. Annesley from her son-in-law requesting her to visit as soon as possible, for her daughter believed her baby might be born sooner than expected. Having had at least a little time to observe Georgiana in her role at Netherfield—and because of her relationship with the Darcys—Mrs. Annesley felt comfortable requesting leave, which the Darcys were happy to grant her. Darcy arranged for his carriage to convey her to Salisbury on the following day, and Bingley provided a maid to accompany her.

  ≈≈≈

  May 23, 1811

  On Thursday morning, Bingley, Fitzwilliam, and Darcy arrived at Longbourn on horseback. After bows and curtsies and Mrs. Bennet’s effusions, it was agreed the gentlemen would go walking with Jane, Kitty, and Elizabeth. As Darcy watched Jane greet Bingley, he knew he could no longer deny that she felt no special regard for his friend; her heart was sincerely engaged—as was Bingley’s. Darcy felt happy for them … and just a bit jealous.

  Very soon into their walk, the others lagged behind Jane and Bingley, wishing to give the couple a bit of privacy. Fitzwilliam said, “I did not see Miss Mary this morning. I hope she is well.”

  “She is visiting one of our tenant families,” Elizabeth said, happy that no one asked after Lydia, who was continuing her boycott of the Netherfield party.

  Kitty asked, “Where are Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley?”

  Darcy replied, “Mrs. Annesley will be leaving Netherfield today to visit her daughter in Salisbury, so Georgiana is assisting her, as a good hostess would. Thus, my visit with you is a brief one, for I wish to farewell the lady and ensure she has all she needs for a comfortable journey.” After a pause, he added, “She is shortly to be a grandmother again, courtesy of her daughter, who is already the mother of two sons.” Upon noticing the surprised stares of Kitty, Elizabeth, and Fitzwilliam, he said, “I do not believe Mrs. Annesley would mind my sharing those details. She is proud of her family—justifiably so.”