by J P Christy
“I would not be distressed, sir.”
“Those in my circle discourage me from mentioning my late wife, but I … I need to speak of her.” Stafford talked of the pain of losing his adored Belinda, and he asked about Mr. Jenkinson. While Mrs. Jenkinson would not claim to have felt the same depth of affection for her husband, she provided the gentle sympathy Stafford had not found elsewhere. Thus, although they spent more time together than was strictly proper, it was a comforting experience for both.
≈≈≈
May 27, 1811
On Monday, the Netherfield party called at Lucas Lodge. Sir William, true to form, made several references to being presented at St. James Court. He also spoke of his trip in March to escort his daughter Maria and Elizabeth Bennet to Hunsford Parsonage. “Your esteemed aunt Lady Catherine is an elegant gentlewoman and a gracious hostess,” he declared with great sincerity. Georgiana, Darcy, and Fitzwilliam avoided each other’s gaze for fear they would lose their composure.
The only unusual moment occurred near the end of the visit when Fitzwilliam asked to see the Lucas stables. Sir William was happy to escort the Netherfield party there, and as he spoke proudly with Darcy, Georgiana, and Bingley about his recent purchase of a thoroughbred stallion, the colonel had a private word with the stableman. Yes, Mr. Collins had given a bottle of Dr. Nicoll’s tonic to the Lucases after he married Charlotte and, no, the tonic was not in use. The contents of the bottle had been discarded after Lady Lucas’s mare reacted badly to it. Fitzwilliam shook his head, thinking, Collins again—the trail keeps leading back to that fool.
18
“Do you not trust me to behave as a gentleman?”
May 28, 1811
When Mrs. Bennet and Lydia visited Mrs. Phillips on Tuesday, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Time had not softened her youngest sister’s sullen attitude, so the less often Lydia was in company with the Darcys, the better. As for Lydia’s insistence that Wickham had been mightily abused by the children of his godfather, Elizabeth was now convinced there was not a bit of truth to the tale; indeed, at the very thought of Wickham, she felt a flash of anger for having been deceived.
On this sunny Tuesday afternoon, however, her thoughts were consumed with the berry-picking party, as she and Kitty waited in the garden for the Netherfield party to arrive. Elizabeth quizzed her sister nervously, “You saw the bushes yesterday, and the berries are ripe?”
“This is the second time you have asked me, Lizzy! Yes!”
“I confess, I want Miss Darcy to think well of us. I do not want us to be seen as fools who cannot tell ripe fruit from unripe fruit.”
“I promise all is well.”
“You have grown in confidence lately, Kitty; it suits you.”
“Thank you. Oh, look, here come Miss Darcy, the colonel, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy.” Kitty pointed to the small group on horseback cantering up the road.
Jane joined her sisters and said worriedly, “Goodness, look how the Darcys are dressed! You did tell them we would be picking blackberries, did you not?”
“Perhaps they have come to say they will not be joining us,” Elizabeth said, disappointed at the thought of losing Darcy’s company. “At least the colonel and Mr. Bingley seem suitably attired. Well, we shall have our little party in any event. Come, let us find out what is the matter.”
The sisters walked to the drive to greet their guests. “Good morning,” Elizabeth called. “Mr. Darcy, will not you and Miss Darcy be joining us?”
While Georgiana and Fitzwilliam exchanged glances, Darcy looked surprised. “Yes, of course, we will. Why do you ask?”
Elizabeth gave him an arch look. “Because, sir, were I to guess, I would have said you were going to address Parliament.”
“In these old clothes?”
“Apparently, ‘old’ is a relative term.”
“Perhaps it is.” Darcy dismounted, feeling insulted at her tease. But I dressed for you!
Fitzwilliam also dismounted and helped Georgiana down from her horse. He murmured, “I heard your brother changed his ensemble four times.”
Georgiana murmured back, “He made me change twice.”
A short distance away, Jane whispered to Kitty, “I am concerned for Miss Darcy’s dress.”
“I will find her an apron,” Kitty replied quietly. She took Georgiana aside and whispered in her ear. When Georgiana nodded, Kitty hurried to the house.
Upon dismounting, Bingley gave a friendly nod to Elizabeth but walked directly to Jane, and they stood together speaking in intimate tones. After allowing herself a small smile at his deliberate demonstration of preference, Elizabeth turned to welcome the other guests. “We have baskets for all, and the best of the bushes is but a short walk. I am curious as to what berries grow in Derbyshire?”
Georgiana said, “Strawberries, blackberries, and elderberries. We make our own elderberry wine.”
“There are also juniper berries at Pemberley,” Fitzwilliam said.
“Have you made your own gin, sir?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” said Darcy, only to be contradicted by his cousin.
“Once,” Fitzwilliam said, “when Darcy and the son of Pemberley’s late steward were home from university.”
“And how would you rate the effort, sir?” Elizabeth asked. So, the Darcys did give George Wickham a gentleman’s education.
“Potent.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I cannot promise anything to match that, but I predict a delightful day. My sister Mary will meet us with Mr. Ainsworth and the children of one of our tenants.”
Returning with an apron for Georgiana, Kitty asked in low tones, “Miss Darcy, should we offer something to your brother? Blackberry stains are notoriously difficult to remove.”
“I thank you on his behalf, but he made his foolish choice, and I shall respect it.” After covering her dress with the apron, Georgiana took two baskets, crossed to Darcy, and pushed a basket into his stomach. As he grabbed it reflexively, she said, “They think we are silly town folk who do not know what to wear when picking berries. We have not made a good impression.”
“You can’t scold me!” he exclaimed in an annoyed whisper.
“I believe I just did.” Georgiana turned on her heel and walked briskly to join Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth told Kitty, “I am glad Lydia is not here to see how the Darcys are attired. She would not be kind.”
“She rarely is.” Kitty took baskets and gave one to Fitzwilliam.
In pairs and threesomes, the parties from Longbourn and Netherfield walked along the path to where plump blackberries dangled from a natural wall of tall bushes growing wild on the banks of a shallow stream. Mary and Ainsworth were already there, helping the Laidlaw children fill their baskets. Soon Bingley and Jane drifted down the path, Darcy and Elizabeth wandered beyond a bend in the stream, shifting to the side of the bushes closest to the water, which afforded them some privacy.
Still piqued that Elizabeth did not appreciate his sartorial efforts, Darcy did not speak, although his thoughts were filled with ideas of what he might say if only he understood her better. Abruptly, Elizabeth’s voice interrupted his mental conversation. “There is such contradiction in you!”
“How so?” he asked, startled by her vehemence.
“It is as if you are with us—for you are beside me now—yet you are apart from us, dressed in a manner that no one who has ever picked blackberries would choose.”
“Perhaps I am a bit overdressed, but my intention was to show respect for you,” he said in unapologetic tones as he leaned against a tree at the edge of the stream.
“Simply joining us was sufficient evidence of respect, sir. Your attire—while undeniably fine—seems condescending. The masculine version of what Lady Catherine would wear to pick berries.”
What an unappreciative creature you are! You show the country version of snobbishness against those of town. Resting his hand on the branch near his head, Darcy said, “I will have you know, Miss El
iza—” But the rest of his words were lost in the loud “crack” made by the aged branch as it gave way under his weight.
Fortunately, the point of the stream into which he stumbled was less than knee-deep for a man of his height. Unfortunately, one of his flailing arms knocked Elizabeth into the stream, too, and although she managed to remain upright, the water reached above her knees. She watched helplessly as their berry basket was washed downstream.
Horrified, Darcy reached for her. “I am sorry! I did not—”
Although the cold water had shocked the breath out of her, Elizabeth quickly saw the humor in the situation. Accepting his hand, she remarked, “How refreshing … after a fashion.”
“Are you all right, Miss Bennet?” he asked anxiously, helping her to the bank. Imagine how Caroline Bingley would react!
“Sir, if a few inches of water were injurious to my health, I would not have survived my first bath.”
Do not picture her taking a bath, he told himself sternly, but to no avail. Aloud he said, “Indeed … well, in this warm weather, I believe our clothing will dry rather quickly.”
“But not our boots.” Although Darcy agreed, he could think of no socially acceptable option. Fixing him with a resolute look, Elizabeth asked, “Do you consider yourself a man of the world?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“You are also a country gentleman—a farmer.”
“I am.”
“Well, I propose we remove our boots and set them in the sun for as long as we may.”
“Do you?” He was clearly amused.
“On occasion, sir, I meditate on the fact that society requires me to engage in fictions bearing no relation to common sense. I do not enjoy having to choose between making a practical decision in a situation such as this or preserving my privileged status as a gentleman’s respectable daughter.” Without further ado, she sat on a log so she could unlace her boots in comfort.
“Of what fictions do you speak, madam?”
“For example, the notion that if a gentleman glimpsed my feet or my ankles, he would be overcome with—dare I speak the word? —lust. When, in fact, any farmer who has planted or a harvested a field with his workers has undoubtedly seen the bare ankle of a female and likely survived such a viewing with his dignity intact.”
“As a compromise to modesty, let us retain our stockings.” Darcy sat beside her and removed his boots. “I can assure you that were the mere sight of a female ankle so overwhelming to my sex, museums would have far fewer works of art … only a few landscapes and the odd bowl of fruit, perhaps a hunting scene. As for statues, I expect the subjects would be limited to statesmen wearing an excessive amount of clothing.”
Now bootless, Elizabeth stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes in her wet stockings. “Nothing from classical Greece or Rome, I take it.”
“No.” After a pause, he asked, “Might you do me a favor?”
“I might.”
“Would you be so kind as to raise the hem of your dress to just above your ankles? No more than half an inch, if you please.”
“Sir?”
“Do you not trust me to behave as a gentleman?”
Blushing slightly but amused, Elizabeth tugged at her dress and exposed her ankles.
With as serious an expression as he could muster, Darcy stared. After a moment, he sat back. “You will be pleased to know I am not overcome with any salacious feelings toward you.”
When Elizabeth burst into raucous laughter, Darcy knew he had never felt so bewitched by anyone. He had heard her giggle, her teasing laugh, and her delighted laugh, but this was the first time he had heard such a deep-throated expression of amusement. Someday, I hope to be familiar with all the ways you laugh and all the ways you smile.
Once Elizabeth could speak calmly again, she said solemnly, “I thank you for your reassurance.” Then she put one elbow on one knee and rested her chin in her palm. It was several seconds before Darcy realized she was staring at his ankles. When she met his gaze a moment later, she declared, “Happy news, sir. I am not overcome with inappropriate feelings toward you either.” And he laughed as loudly as she had.
They sat in comfortable silence for several moments, but then Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “Since your return, we seem to have discussed a variety of inconsequential topics, but we have not discussed what I suspect is uppermost in our minds.”
“What is that, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I want to know if my letter offended you.”
“Yes, it did.”
“Oh,” she said, embarrassed. “Well, I—”
“I felt offended and then angry and then puzzled. But when I reflected on my behavior, I felt ashamed. What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were formed on mistaken premises, my behavior to you at the time merited the severest reproof. You gave me a gift, Miss Elizabeth. You showed me myself as no one ever had. For that, I thank you.”
“I, um, you are welcome,” she stammered. “We will not quarrel for the greater share of the blame, but I hope we have both improved in civility. I must also confess that upon my return to Longbourn, I asked the tailor’s wife about Mr. Wickham’s bills. Upon discovering he is the rogue you said he was, I shared this with Colonel Forster’s wife, who mentioned it to her husband. At any rate, I regret taking his word against you, and I apologize.”
“For my part, I sent a letter to Colonel Forster within a few days of my return to London.”
Elizabeth was pleased to hear this. “Then Colonel Forster received three reports in just a few weeks, for Lydia has complained that when your cousin visited Meryton, he, too, warned the officer about Wickham.”
“I should not have waited so long to expose the rogue.”
After several silent moments, Elizabeth asked, “Why did you return with Mr. Bingley?”
“It was a condition of continuing our friendship.”
She hoped her disappointment did not show. “You did not wish to return?”
“If I may speak frankly, I did wish to see you again; however, had I been able to set my own schedule, I would have waited until after I had reflected more upon your letter, which I kept.”
“I was sure you had burned it and forgotten every syllable!”
“Indeed not! If not for you, I would not have known I needed to apologize to Bingley.”
“I have wondered whether Mr. Bingley came back to Netherfield because you suggested it. I am thankful for whatever role you played in his return. Even if the feelings Jane had for him are not rekindled, at least she has an opportunity to understand his actions of last year.”
“To give credit where it is due, my role was simply to confess my interference and admit I was in error in my estimation of your sister’s regard, which I did at dinner some two weeks ago. Afterward, Bingley left in a temper, understandably so, but he returned the next morning to invite Georgiana to act as his hostess while he endeavored to regain your sister’s good opinion. Fitz walked in during the discussion, and here we are. However, it was Bingley’s decision to return; he has a sincere regard for Miss Bennet.”
“Well, we are happy to see you and very pleased that you brought Miss Darcy.”
Upon hearing Elizabeth’s words and seeing her smile, Darcy felt more content than he had since before the event at Ramsgate last summer. Cautiously, he introduced a delicate topic. “Anne told me Mr. Collins offered for Miss Lucas only after you had declined his proposal.”
“Yes, though perhaps you think my rejection was foolish, given the entail on Longbourn.”
“You have four sisters. Why should it fall to you to secure your family’s future?” Thank you, Georgiana, for that bit of wisdom.
Elizabeth appreciated his words, but before she could reply, Kitty’s shout interrupted. “Lizzy! Where are you?”
With a slight shrug to Darcy, Elizabeth called to her sister, “We are coming.”
As they put on their boots, he said, “It was a pleasure to talk with
you.”
“For me as well.”
Darcy stood and offered her his hand. Grinning, she allowed him to help her to her feet, enjoying their brief touch. Darcy’s mind, however, was elsewhere. When they rejoined the rest of the berry-picking party, he glanced at Fitzwilliam, and a nagging notion began to grow, pricking at his happier thoughts as the berry vines had pricked at his skin.
≈≈≈
In the drawing room at Netherfield that evening, while the gentlemen sipped their glasses of brandy, Georgiana savored her port. Although her drink was still diluted (Darcy continued to prepare it), it contained more port than the first drink he had given her at Darcy House. Feeling relaxed, she said, “What a lovely day! Beautiful weather, amiable company, and blackberries. Mr. Bingley, I am most grateful you invited us here. Yesterday, I reviewed the menus for the week with Mrs. Pimset. She was so kind and helpful, I was not intimidated at all! I feel most fortunate to have this opportunity to act as your hostess.”
“You are doing splendidly, and I am most grateful you are overseeing my household.” Bingley raised his glass in toast to her.
“How are things progressing with Miss Bennet?”
“Georgiana, that is not our concern.” Darcy’s rebukes regarding his sister’s impertinence were less frequent, but he was still uncomfortable with her outspokenness. Also, his nagging notion from earlier had inspired a foul mood; he strongly suspected Fitzwilliam had read the letter Elizabeth gave him at Rosings.
Bingley said, “Darcy, my pursuit of Miss Bennet is the reason I dragged us to Hertfordshire. While I do not expect anyone to care as much about the topic as I do, I welcome your sister’s interest.” To Georgiana, he said, “There will be an assembly in Meryton soon. If all goes well, I shall ask her for a formal courtship at the dance, but I do not wish to rush her.”
“An excellent plan,” Georgiana said. “By the bye, Miss Mary is visiting tomorrow, so we shall have a musical afternoon.”
Darcy thought sourly, You will find that Miss Mary plays the pianoforte with such force you would think she was pounding a tiny nail with each key she touches!
