Darcy and Elizabeth- Answered Prayers

by Mary Lydon Simonsen

  “Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to a chair near the fire. “I can see that you are uncomfortable being in this room alone with me. All those rules they have for young ladies—quite an endless list, is it not? Among them: a young lady should never be alone with a man without a chaperone. My mother and her friends would have laughed at such restraints. In her time, mazes and arbors and garden paths were for that very purpose—a little time alone before the couple walked down the aisle. My father once bragged that he stole a kiss from Mama in Pemberley’s maze, and when he told that story, Mama smiled. After my mother died, I recalled the scene with great fondness. But that was another time. We now have infinitely more rules.

  “Only recently, I learned of one of these nonsensical dicta from my sister as she prepares for her debut. If a man asks Georgiana to dance, let us say Mr. Collins, and she refuses him, Georgie would not be able to dance with any other gentleman! And while Mr. Collins is free to ask another, my sister becomes a wallflower. Does that make sense?”

  Darcy did not wait for an answer. “And who issues these decrees? Lady Jersey, Lady Sefton, Lady Cowper, and Lady Castlereagh—ladies with too much time on their hands. And the hypocrisy of it all. While they are telling everyone what to do and how to behave, they are signaling with their fans that they are up for a bit of fun. If such conventions were imposed on men, I would find them suffocating,” he said before finishing the last of his port. “Women should not have to endure such repression. My goodness! Look at what it has done to my poor cousin.”

  “Are you referring to Miss de Bourgh?”

  “Yes, my sweet cousin Anne de Bourgh, the only child of an overbearing mother and a philandering father. Did you like my cousin, Elizabeth?”

  “I had little opportunity to get to know her,” Lizzy said, avoiding the question. In truth, she did not know what to make of a woman who gave every appearance of being a frightened bird, one without so much as a tweet inside her.

  “You must understand that when you live in fear that you will be publicly humiliated by your mother, you have a tendency not to speak. As a result, there are many who think she is above her company when, actually, she is a warm-hearted and caring person.”

  Darcy refilled his glass. “I apologize. I am rambling. I know your preference is for spruce beer, but without awakening the servants—which we definitely do not want to do—I can offer you only sherry.”

  “Thank you, yes. I would enjoy a sherry.”

  When Darcy handed her the glass, he said, “It helps.”

  “Helps what?”

  “Dull the pain.”

  With the firelight flickering across his face, Lizzy saw a deep and abiding hurt and knew that she was the one responsible for it.

  “If I caused you any pain—”

  “Yes, I know. It was unconsciously done, and you hoped that it would be of short duration. Unfortunately for me, you were wrong.”

  “Mr. Darcy, I—”

  “I was never so surprised in my life. Whenever I saw you at Rosings, I felt ridiculous because my feelings for you were so obvious: my visits to the Parsonage, our encounters in the park, how I could not take my eyes off of you during church services, supper, while you played, and on and on.” Shaking his head, he added, “A moonstruck calf had more dignity than I did.”

  “I honestly did not know of your—”

  “Of my what? Interest, regard, affection, love. That was the progression. When you came to Netherfield, you piqued my interest. During all those interminable card parties, you merited my regard. At the Netherfield ball, you earned my affection, and by the time I saw you in Kent, I was in love. Well done, Elizabeth,” Darcy said, raising his glass, “and you did not even notice.”

  “I thought you did not like me.”

  Darcy looked confused. “If I did not like you, I would not have asked you to dance at the Netherfield ball. If I did not like you, I would not have complimented you at Rosings. If I did not like you, then what on God’s green earth was I doing sitting in that tiny parlor at Hunsford Parsonage day after day listening to Mr. Collins’s orations?” Darcy shook his head. “You do not have to answer that.

  “Now, with regard to the matter of your sister, I do have a defense,” Darcy said, leaning towards Elizabeth. “You see, Bingley was always falling in love. Shortly before we left for Hertfordshire, he was head over heels for Miss Atkins, a woman whom he had just met in the country. Prior to Miss Atkins, there was Miss Temple, Miss Colgan, and Miss Barnes. I could go on—the list is long—but I assume you take my point.

  “After spending most of the summer in Ireland pretending to buy a horse, when I returned to London, I called on Bingley. I found him in low spirits—a direct result of his separation from your sister. I confess I was surprised at finding him so…so adrift. Because there had been so many Rosamunds in his life, I had failed to realize that Bingley had found his Juliet. You will be happy to know that it is my intention to make amends. That is the reason I have invited Bingley to come to Pemberley. At the earliest possible moment, I shall tell him that I was in error. That I have it on excellent authority that Miss Jane Bennet is in love with him and that he should make haste to Hertfordshire.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “I have no doubt of it. If lethargic behavior is an example of a man being in love, then Bingley is over the moon for your sister.”

  Darcy offered Lizzy another sherry, but she declined. Unlike the diluted wines served at Longbourn, the sherry was intoxicating, and she wanted a clear mind. This whole conversation was unsettling.

  “Well, I am going to have another glass of port.” After returning to his chair, Darcy again leaned forward. “There was another matter contained in the letter.” He then closed his eyes. “The letter… I can hardly think of it without embarrassment. In it, my arrogance was on full display. When I wrote it, I cared nothing about your feelings. You had injured me, and now it was my turn to injure you.”

  “You need not explain, sir. I understand that you were very angry when you wrote it.”

  “You have no idea,” Darcy said with a false laugh. “Even so, anger did not give me the right to pen such a caustic missive. I showed no restraint, no discipline—definitely an exhibition of ungentlemanlike behavior.”

  Lizzy winced at the sound of her own words being thrown back at her.

  “Well, it cannot be undone. But as to the matter of George Wickham—”

  Lizzy held up her hand to stop him. Even before she had learned of Wickham’s debts and excessive drinking from the chattering tongues of Meryton, she had come to believe every word written in Mr. Darcy’s letter. In her mind, it was impossible that such a devoted brother would make up such a story about his sister. He would never have risked exposing her to ridicule.

  “As far as the matter of Mr. Wickham is concerned, it is I who owe you an apology.”

  Darcy arched his eyebrows.

  “My prejudices blinded me to how inappropriate it was for a man, whom I had only just met, to share his personal history with me. On the occasion of our first meeting, he told me that you had, against the wishes of your father, taken away the means by which he was to make his living. But that is not the worst of it. He had the audacity to tell me that he had provided endless hours of entertainment for your sister when the truth was that he had used those entertainments to gain her trust and had abused that trust abominably.”

  Darcy sat back in his chair. “So, you do believe me?”

  “Without question.”

  “That is good to know.” But Elizabeth’s absolution was insufficient to change what had happened in Kent. “Even if you knew about Wickham’s abominable behavior, and even if I had been innocent of any interference in your sister’s affairs, you still would have refused me. You simply do not like me.”

  “Sir, it is not a matter of like or dislike. How could I possibly accept an offer of marriage from a man who had gone to such lengths not to love me?” And then she looked directly into his e
yes. “But my refusal would have been kinder, more thoughtful. I really was honored by your attention.”

  “I am very happy to hear that I would have been shown the door rather than being thrown out of it.”

  “Sir—”

  Darcy held up his hand. “Elizabeth, I have no one to blame for what happened in Kent but myself. I was overdue for a setdown, and when it came, it made me think about the man I had become. I have no idea when I became so supremely obnoxious, but I suspect it was years in the making.”

  “But we would all fail under such close examination. I am afraid that your pride and my prejudice set us at cross purposes from the very beginning, which is unfortunate.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, of course. I have no wish to think ill of anyone.”

  “Do you dream of me, Elizabeth? Probably not,” Darcy said, shaking his head. “But I dream of you. You haunt my nights, but then that is to be expected. After all, I wanted you to be with me in the night. I confessed as much when I told you that my feelings would not be repressed. Did I shock you with my declaration that I was unable to keep myself under regulation?”

  Feeling a wave of heat coursing through her body, Lizzy indicated that she needed to retire, and with that declaration, she stood up. “I really must go to my bedchamber. I do not want word to reach Lady Jersey that Miss Elizabeth Bennet of the Bennets of Hertfordshire visited alone with a man in the middle of the night who was neither father nor brother.”

  “No, we cannot have that, can we?” Darcy rose and walked with Elizabeth to the door of the study. Together they stood within the door’s confines. “As we are to be friends, shall we shake hands?”

  Lizzy placed her hand in Mr. Darcy’s, but he did not shake it. Instead, he held it and ran his thumb across it, and then he leaned in towards her. The magic of the moment was broken by a roar of thunder.

  “I do not think it will ever stop raining,” Lizzy said, gently pulling her hand away.

  “I hope that it does not.”

  Lizzy’s furrow brow spoke of confusion. “Why is that?”

  “If it continues to rain, it will be impossible for you to return to Lambton, and I shall have the pleasure of your company for another day.”

  Lizzy smiled. “When I return to my room, I shall say my evening prayers and pray for rain.”

  “I have not prayed since my mother died.”

  “Then I shall pray for you.”

  * * *

  In the morning, as Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and Lizzy joined Mr. Darcy in the breakfast room, the rain played a gentle tattoo on the window panes. Despite the weather, Aunt Gardiner noted that her niece, as well as Mr. Darcy, seemed to be in excellent spirits.

  “Mr. Darcy, it appears that we must impose on your hospitality awhile longer,” Aunt Gardiner said.

  “It is not an imposition, Mrs. Gardiner. It is an honor. Besides, I have yet to show you the conservatory. With the exception of Chatsworth, Pemberley has one of the finest collections of plants and flowers in the county.”

  Mrs. Gardiner looked out the window. Although the rain had eased, it was no day to be out of doors.

  “Have no concern for the rain, ma’am. Most of the walk will be under a pergola, and umbrellas will be provided for all.”

  “I look forward to it, sir, as I am an avid gardener, but with such a name, I would have to be, now wouldn’t I? Elizabeth, are you up for a tour of the conservatory?”

  “Indeed, I am,” she said, smiling, but her smile was for their host.

  “And if it ever does stop raining,” Darcy continued, “may I suggest a stroll through the maze? My mother was quite fond of it.”

  Lizzy blushed. The maze was where Mr. Darcy’s parents had gone to get away from the prying eyes of their chaperones during their courtship and where the couple had shared their first kiss.

  “For the moment, I would be content with the conservatory,” Lizzy finally answered.

  Darcy looked disappointed.

  “But that might change—depending upon developments.”

  As they walked arm in arm to the conservatory, Aunt Gardiner remarked on the change in Elizabeth’s disposition. “It is obvious that you slept well.”

  “I did, Aunt. I was late to bed, but after saying my prayers, I quickly fell asleep.” Looking out the windows at the falling rain, she added: “And it seems my prayers were answered.”

  Darcy, who had been walking ahead of them, turned and looked at Elizabeth. “And mine as well.”

  THE END

  Thank you for reading my short story. If you enjoyed Darcy and Elizabeth – Answered Prayers, please consider writing a review on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Goodreads. A good review is like gold to an author. They are savored and shared. Thank you.

  Other books by Mary Lydon Simonsen

  From Sourcebooks:

  Searching for Pemberley

  The Perfect Bride for Mr. Darcy

  A Wife for Mr. Darcy

  Mr. Darcy’s Bite

  From Quail Creek Crossing:

  Novels:

  Another Place in Time

  When They Fall in Love

  Darcy Goes to War

  Darcy on the Hudson

  Becoming Elizabeth Darcy

  Novellas:

  For All the Wrong Reasons

  Mr. Darcy’s Angel of Mercy

  A Walk in the Meadows at Rosings Park

  Mr. Darcy Bites Back

  Captain Wentworth Home from the Sea

  Short Story:

  Darcy and Elizabeth - Lost in Love

  Darcy and Elizabeth – Behind Pemberley’s Walls

  Modern Novel:

  The Second Date: Love Italian-American Style

  Patrick Shea Mysteries:

  Three’s A Crowd

  A Killing in Kensington

  A Death in Hampden

  Dying to Write

  Murder by Moonlighting (September 2015)