Elizabeth Bennet's Impertinent Letter

by J P Christy

  ≈≈≈

  June 14, 1811

  On Friday morning, the day before the Meryton assembly, Lydia breakfasted quickly and returned to her bedroom, saying she had work to do. After Lydia exited the dining room, Mrs. Bennet quizzed her other daughters as to what they might wear for the dance. Although the sisters were eager to know whether Lydia would attend with them, none dared to ask for fear of putting their mother in an unhappy mood.

  Afterward, as the sisters climbed the stairs to their rooms, Jane whispered, “Let us carry on as if Lydia will not be joining us.”

  “Grabbing the best ribbons for herself,” Kitty muttered.

  “Demanding everyone’s assistance,” Mary added.

  “I shall pretend Lydia is on holiday,” Elizabeth said. “Goodness, I feel calmer already!”

  ≈≈≈

  When Mr. Bingley called at Longbourn on Friday afternoon, Jane told him she and Mary would be visiting their tenants, and she invited him to join them. “It would be my pleasure—excellent training for a fellow aspiring to the landed gentry,” he replied.

  Walking arm in arm, Jane and Bingley strolled along the path leading to the homes of Longbourn’s two tenant families. Hanging from Bingley’s other arm was a basket of herbs from Jane’s garden. Mary, as inattentive a chaperone as any young couple could wish, was some distance ahead, eager to reach the Laidlaws’ farm.

  “When you are the lady of a manor, will you have an herb garden?” Bingley asked.

  “Yes, ideally a larger one than what I have now and positioned so as to have one area for plants preferring the sun and another for plants preferring the shade.” Glancing at him, she said, “I suspect you are a man who has not given much thought to herbs.”

  “The scent of lavender reminds me of you. It is my favorite.”

  “What was your favorite scent before you met me?”

  “I did not bother to learn the names of the scents worn by other ladies,” Bingley said with a shrug. “Speak to me about the future you hope for. How many children—no, forgive me, that is an inappropriately intimate topic. Ah, dogs and cats … do you see dogs or cats in your future?”

  “I think every stable should have at least one good mouser.”

  “We agree on that.”

  “And I should like a dog.”

  “We agree on that.”

  “Not a small dog. If one has children about,” Jane blushed but continued, “one ought to have a dog who can defend itself from their sometimes-rough care. And at the risk of shocking you with this intimate topic, I do hope to have children.”

  “Have you a preference for boys or girls?”

  “I have a preference for blondes.”

  Like you, Bingley smiled; then his smile widened as he realized, And like me. He placed a light kiss on the back of Jane’s gloved hand. “We agree on that, as well.”

  ≈≈≈

  June 24, 1811

  With a sure hand, Fitzwilliam guided Bingley’s new curricle to a smooth stop in front of Longbourn. Scarcely a moment later, Georgiana arrived on Samson and Darcy arrived on Pegasus just as Johnny was bringing Molly from the stables. Dismounting, Darcy accepted the little mare’s reins from the Bennets’ manservant and walked her to where Elizabeth stood with Kitty.

  “Hello, Molly,” Elizabeth said, offering her a carrot. “Those Darcys have conspired to pair us. So, once more, unto the breach, dear friend.”

  “We appreciate your quoting Shakespeare to the mare. We have been remiss in that regard,” Darcy said. “May I assist you?”

  “You may, sir, as I do not have a mounting block.” Placing his hands carefully on Elizabeth’s waist, he lifted her easily onto the sidesaddle. “Thank you,” she said, hoping her enjoyment of his touch was not obvious to all and sundry.

  “Miss Kitty, will you join me?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” Kitty happily let Darcy assist her into the sporty curricle. These days, with Jane distracted by Bingley, Elizabeth distracted by Darcy, Mary distracted by Ainsworth, and Lydia in a pout, Kitty was thrilled by the opportunity to ride in a sleek carriage drawn by a matched pair of bays.

  “Kitty, I leave it to you to direct the colonel, and the rest of us will follow,” Elizabeth said. “Molly and I will bring up the rear, but for us, this is no shame.” Darcy and Georgiana exchanged amused glances before falling in beside her. “No, no, I insist,” she said, waving them ahead. “Molly and I have private matters to discuss.”

  Although Darcy had ridden through the neighborhood on numerous occasions, he had paid little attention to the farms and estates he passed, beyond judging their likely value. Today, as he held Pegasus to a walk or a gentle canter so he could remain near Elizabeth, he was pleasantly surprised to find himself the recipient of friendly waves. Self-consciously at first, he waved back, but soon the gesture felt quite natural.

  The last stop in the neighborhood was a grim-looking manor house. “This is Purvis Lodge,” Kitty said. “Mr. Purvis’s mother was French. She told him wonderful fairy tales, so he added the gargoyles for her.”

  Elizabeth said, “The Purvises were kindly folk with a fondness for whimsy. There’s a griffin in the fountain in the back.”

  Georgiana asked, “Does the place have a ghost, too? Is that why no one lives here?”

  “We’ve not heard tell of a ghost, but the manor has secret passages,” Kitty said.

  “Did the Purvises have no heirs?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Their son died in a battle on the Continent,” Elizabeth said.

  “The property now belongs to a nephew who is quite happy in his own home in Ipswich, according to my Uncle Phillips,” Kitty said. “Uncle is in charge of leasing the place, but it has not had a tenant in nearly two years. Mama says the attics are very small.”

  “There is a plum tree behind the house. Shall we see if it has fruit?” Elizabeth suggested.

  Darcy dismounted. “I will secure Molly and Pegasus, and you can lead us to the plum tree.” He lifted Elizabeth down from her saddle, although she did not need his assistance, given Molly’s short stature. When their eyes met briefly, he wondered, When I touch her, does she feel the same sweet frisson I feel? Or does she think of me merely as a friend?

  Georgiana, not wishing to take her brother’s attention away from Elizabeth, guided Samson to the curricle so Fitzwilliam could help her dismount. “This outing was a good idea of mine,” she murmured in her cousin’s ear.

  While the others, joking and talking, gathered plums, Elizabeth made her way through the overgrown garden to the terrace. Pausing at the now-dry fountain encircling the human-sized statue of a snarling griffin, she indulged in memories of long ago when life seemed simpler and her parents seemed happier with each other and their daughters.

  “Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy’s voice claimed her from her reverie.

  She gestured at the statue. “When I was a child, I viewed this griffin with such fearful excitement. I thought it was a living creature turned to stone. On the terrace, and Mrs. Purvis would give her son, Jane, and me shortbread and tea with lots of milk; it was delightful. Is there a place like this in your memories?”

  “Sadly no.” After a pause, he asked, “May I have a word with you?”

  “Two, if they are small words.”

  “What? Oh. Right. Well .…”

  She laughed. “Forgive my manners. What do you wish to say?”

  “Are you comfortable on Molly?”

  “Yes, as comfortable as I am on any horse.” When Darcy smiled, she thought, Let’s have more of those, please. Suddenly, she found herself studying his lips. I have never kissed a man beyond a platonic gesture to a family member; what is it like? Novels make kissing sound so—

  “Good, that’s good,” he said in a distracted manner.

  “Perhaps if you said what was on your mind, our conversation might proceed more spontaneously.”

  “Yes, I believe so,” Darcy said, as much to himself as to her. “I assume your family
will attend the assembly tomorrow?”

  “Not Lydia, of course, and not my father. But, yes, the rest of us will be there.”

  “I am certain Fitzwilliam and Bingley will attend.”

  Something in his manner made Elizabeth wary. “What of you and Georgiana?”

  “As you know, my sister is not out yet in London society.”

  “Yes.”

  “I am conflicted as to whether she should be out in Meryton, although I told her she could consider herself so.”

  “Meryton is a small town to which no one in London gives any thought; indeed, I am certain few have heard of its existence. Rest assured our assemblies are not dens of iniquity—and Georgiana loves to dance.”

  “Yet, I have concerns.”

  “Wickham and the militia are gone.”

  “My sister is not yet seventeen. She seems very young to me.”

  Is your sister so young, or do you simply wish her to be? Elizabeth wanted to ask. “She is the hostess at your friend’s estate; she is as mature, if not more so, than the younger Bennets.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Is it possible that you are not ready for Georgiana to be regarded as an adult?”

  “Nonsense! What would I have to gain?”

  “That is a question only you can answer.”

  “I fear you do not understand me,” he said stiffly.

  He is angry! Why? “I confess I do not, Mr. Darcy, nor am I certain you understand yourself. Have you now decided not to allow your sister to attend the assembly?”

  “I told her she may, but I am having second thoughts. Georgiana is trusting, perhaps too trusting. I do not want the young men hereabout to be encouraged by her friendly demeanor. I cannot explain it. It is simply something I feel!”

  “But is she expecting to attend the assembly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I assure you this is not a topic that is best addressed at the last minute. Your sister has likely selected her dress and contemplated how she will wear her hair. If you are going to disappoint her, it is no kindness to wait until tomorrow evening.”

  “I was hoping to delay her disappointment.”

  “For your own comfort, sir, not for hers!”

  Stung, Darcy exclaimed, “I hope Meryton appreciates the service my presence provides, madam. For if you were not busy judging me, which of your neighbors would you be judging?”

  “Talk to your sister, not to me!” Elizabeth strode away briskly. He thinks the denizens of Meryton are savages, unworthy of keeping company with Darcys. He has not changed as much as I thought. He is as arrogant as he ever was!

  Although Georgiana had kept apart from Elizabeth and her brother, hoping privacy would facilitate their relationship, she continued to glance at them surreptitiously. Thus, she was quick to notice when their conversation took a combative turn, inspiring Elizabeth to stride away and stand beside what had once been a bed of roses. In mere moments, Georgiana was at her friend’s side.

  “Will you sit with me?” Placing a light hand on Elizabeth’s elbow, she guided her to the bench that faced the weed-choked rose beds.

  Still standing by the fountain Darcy felt achingly near but still too far away as he watched the ladies. What does Elizabeth have in her hand—a handkerchief? Is she crying? This is impossible! Why is it so difficult for us to understand each other? Georgiana needs her. I need her!

  Elizabeth pressed her handkerchief to her cheeks, now damp with tears of frustration. “Your brother and I have misunderstood each other again. I cannot tell if he wants to castigate me or kiss me.” Upon realizing what she had said, she added, “I don’t mean he wants to kiss—it was an alliteration of opposites.”

  Georgiana took her friend’s hand. “What do you know of me?”

  With her free hand, Elizabeth smoothed her handkerchief on her lap. “All that I know to be true of the Darcys I could write on this fabric, and my intelligence would not cover even one side.”

  “Did Brother tell you what happened … what almost happened with Mr. Wickham?”

  “No.”

  “It was nearly a year ago. My companion then, a Mrs. Younge, convinced my brother to permit me to spend the summer in Ramsgate. Do you know the place?”

  “It is on the coast, is it not?”

  “Yes, a seaside town. While there, I encountered Mr. Wickham. He is nearly fifteen years my senior, and I had known him at Pemberley when I was a child. As you know, he is handsome and quite charming when he chooses. I did not realize he had orchestrated the meeting with Mrs. Younge’s help. She saw to it that he and I were much in company, and after awhile—a rather short while—George said he loved me. I fancied myself in love with him, too, and we made plans to elope.” Without realizing she did so, Georgiana tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s hand.

  “But you did not elope.”

  “No, Providence saved me—Providence and my brother, who arrived on the day before the elopement. I told him of our plans because I was happy and wanted him to share my happiness. When George was confronted by Brother, I heard him admit he wanted me only for my dowry. I was angry and hurt, and I felt I could not trust myself to make good choices. I was such a fool!”

  Elizabeth patted Georgiana’s hand. “Had you asked me to put a description of you on my handkerchief here, I would not have written ‘such a fool.’”

  “It was a terrible choice I made, a terrible thing I did.”

  “No, an evil man did a terrible thing to a much younger lady. But you did not elope; you and your brother put an end to a heartless rogue’s scheme. Oh, Georgiana, we all make errors! And while it is important to acknowledge our errors, it is equally important to recognize when we do something right. If you are like me, you will have many opportunities to doubt yourself, so I urge you to celebrate the moments when you are wise.”

  “You doubt yourself? But you always have such a confident manner!”

  “A little self-doubt can be useful. After all, we are always making decisions with incomplete knowledge; this is how the world works.”

  “At tea with you and your sisters, I was terrified Wickham had told everyone in Meryton about our near-elopement.”

  “He never mentioned it to any of us Bennets, nor have I heard my neighbors speak of it. I suspect Wickham considers it one of his failures.”

  “I am ashamed; I do not want you to think badly of me!”

  Elizabeth put an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Although I have known you only a short while, I take great delight in the time we spend together. What an unworthy friend I would be if I were to condemn you for a mistake that most any lady of my acquaintance could have made. Clearly, you are not the idealistic miss whom Wickham sought to misuse. Take pride in the lady you have become!”

  “Still, I suspect my misjudgment of Wickham makes Brother overcautious. But this is a matter he and I must resolve. He has agreed that I can attend the assembly tomorrow!”

  Oh dear! No, I must not say anything; as Georgiana knows, this is a matter for her and Mr. Darcy to resolve. Still, Elizabeth heard herself cautioning, “You may find the assembly disappointing. Our little dances are not grand affairs.”

  “Well, I shall tell you my thoughts on Sunday,” Georgiana said, smiling. Her expression became serious. “Forgive my boldness, but what is this misunderstanding between you and my brother?”

  “I am uncertain as to what Mr. Darcy expects from us here in Hertfordshire. I know Mr. Bingley brought you to be his hostess in the absence of his sisters.”

  “In the absence of his dreadful sisters,” Georgiana said, and they laughed.

  “Thus, I must assume your brother is here for your sake.”

  “Well, that is the reason he says aloud.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You fascinate him, Elizabeth, surely you know it. Brother is drawn to you as he has never been drawn to any lady. I think it unsettles him, and he does not know how to behave.” She would not speak of Darcy’s love; no, su
ch a declaration was her brother’s to make. Giving Elizabeth a long look, she added, “I believe you are unsettled, too.”

  Elizabeth stared unseeing at the rose bed. “What do you know of your brother and me?”

  “Very little. I know he admires you greatly, and I confess I would be very happy if you and I were sisters.”

  Oh goodness, what do I say to that? Elizabeth wondered.

  Kitty called. “We have all the plums we can manage.”

  Releasing Georgiana’s hand, she stood. “While I struggle to understand your brother, I feel I have known you for an age. Is this because we are females, faced with the same expectations and limitations?”

  Rising, Georgiana linked her arm with Elizabeth’s, and they began walking to the front of the lodge. “I, too, feel our friendship is older than its chronological age. You are accustomed to female friendships through your sisters and my cousin Anne. Yet, as your father is the only male in your household, my brother may be a somewhat unfamiliar creature for you. There are times when I find him quite a puzzle, particularly when he wears what I call his ‘stone face.’” Glancing at Darcy, she saw him watching; with the merest of nods, she signaled to him, and a moment later he was walking beside her. Abruptly, she said, “Excuse me, Elizabeth, but Kitty needs me,” and she hurried away to join the plum-gatherers.

  Elizabeth took a fortifying breath before saying, “Mr. Darcy, please pardon me for speaking to you—once again—rather rudely. You did not confide your concerns with the expectation that I would respond in such a severe tone.”

  “That is true. I value your viewpoint on the care of younger sisters, but I do not know how to express myself in manner which does not offend you.”

  “Offend me? Oh, sir, how do I explain? You have so much control over your sister’s life, and she adores you. But when you were speaking of your dilemma, I imagined how I would feel if the person entrusted with my happiness suddenly changed his mind about my going to a minor social event—letting me believe until the last minute that I could attend. From what I know of your sweet sister, I suspect she would blame herself. And were I your not-so-sweet sister, I would blame you.” Then, to his surprise, Elizabeth slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Still, I regret my tone.”