“Was it really so bad?” Darcy asked, suddenly anxious. “Do you think I made her uncomfortable?”
“No,” Bingley said reassuringly. “I do not think either object of our affections noticed too much. I would like to believe they had their own worries to focus upon. Their mother, for example.”
“Now that,” Darcy replied, “was a surprise. I did not anticipate Mrs. Bennet being so pleasant. Not toward me, at least.”
“You, at times, underestimate the influence you have upon people,” Bingley observed. “You may maintain your kindness toward Miss Elizabeth in her time of need was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was extraordinary in the eyes of her family.”
“I do maintain that I acted as any good host would,” Darcy mumbled, his ears turning red. It was difficult for him to accept praise or compliments.
“Perhaps that is the truth,” Bingley laughed. “But we cannot really say because, as you have admitted to me, my friend, you are in love. And that love touches every aspect of your interaction with Miss Elizabeth and her family.”
Darcy and Bingley turned their horses up the drive toward Netherfield. The ride had been pleasant enough, but Darcy felt more confused than ever about Elizabeth. Bingley had made him feel anxious that his behaviour might have unsettled Elizabeth, and Darcy was certain Bingley’s behaviour had unsettled everyone.
“Well, Bingley,” Darcy sighed. “Let no one ever accuse either of us of being a Don Juan.” He turned to his friend with a rueful smile. “For neither one of us possess the amount of charm nor comfort necessary to behave in any manner other than a bumbling idiot.”
“‘Bumbling idiot’ seems a bit harsh,” Bingley said in mock offence. “Perhaps, ‘tongue-tied fool’ for me?”
Darcy laughed. “Yes, exactly. And for me…?” He thought for a moment. “‘Staring oaf,’ does that sound about right?”
“Eerily so,” Bingley laughed. Darcy joined him, but anxiety seemed to creep over both men, despite their laughter.
“It will be alright,” Darcy assured Bingley. “No harm was done this day, only great good.” He wished he had the same confidence in his interaction with Elizabeth. Bingley seemed to hear his silent worry.
“Elizabeth was delighted to see you,” his friend said. “Do not doubt that for a moment. For when you were not looking at her, she was looking at you. There is something powerful between the two of you, and when you both figure it out, it will be a sight to behold.”
Darcy hardly knew what to say at this. He hoped Bingley was correct, that he was not allowing his affection for Darcy to interfere with his judgement.
“For all the mistakes we made today, I am glad we are here,” Darcy admitted. “It took only the sight of Elizabeth to confirm my affections. As I’m sure the sight of Jane did for you.”
“Darcy,” Bingley said suddenly. “You have convinced me of the wisdom of postponing my proposal. Am I correct in assuming that you are even more convinced in your love and desire for marriage to Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy remained silent for a few moments. Deep inside, he knew he wanted to marry Elizabeth. However, he was not eager to relive the pain of rejection. He was growing more certain that Elizabeth’s regard was warming towards him, but there was still a great fear within him.
“What you say is true,” Darcy confirmed. “I do wish to marry Elizabeth, but I have no wish to repeat my earlier mistake. I will not propose until I am certain of her assent.”
“A prudent decision,” Bingley said. “But I have another idea that I wonder if you will hear?”
“What is it?” Darcy asked curiously.
“What if, in an attempt to temper my own eagerness and to bolster your own courage, we agreed to propose together?” Bingley asked. “Jane and Elizabeth are as close as sisters can be, what could bring more joy to the one than the engagement of the other? Can you imagine the flood of happiness that would spill over in the Bennet household if both became engaged upon the same day? The same hour?”
Darcy considered this: Bingley was quite right, no matter how happy Elizabeth was, she would always care about Jane’s happiness as much as her own—perhaps more. The same, Darcy was certain, was true for Jane. He smiled slowly.
“Bingley, that is an excellent idea,” he said. “For if Jane were to become engaged at the same time, she might be in a more receptive frame of mind!” He hoped that Elizabeth would not need any persuasion to accept him, but it was not a bad idea to have an extra motivation.
“It is settled then,” Bingley said happily, drawing his horse up in front of Netherfield Hall. “We shall propose together.” He swung down from his horse and handed the reins to a waiting groom. Darcy followed suit. “Although, I beg of you, my dear friend. Hasten your courtship, for as much as I wish to do this with you, I am unsure how long I will be able to wait!”
“You have my word,” Darcy promised. “Tomorrow we will once again seek out the company of our beloved, and we shall begin to win them over.”
“And do a much better job than today,” Bingley added.
Darcy nodded in hearty agreement. Today had not been a disaster, but it could have been better. Tomorrow would be a better day indeed.
Chapter 13
Elizabeth
“Do you really think they are coming back today?” Jane asked Elizabeth at the breakfast table.
Elizabeth buttered a piece of bread while glancing around to ensure that her parents and siblings were adequately occupied with their meals so that their conversation would remain private. She had no doubt the men would return—Mr. Bingley’s affections were obvious even though his abrupt departure was confusing.
“I do not think a war would keep Mr. Bingley from your side,” Elizabeth whispered back.
Jane sighed and stared into her teacup.
“So you say, but how do you explain him running away? How do you know that he does not regret renewing the acquaintance?” Jane asked, looking anxious and drawn.
Elizabeth chewed slowly and thought about how to respond. She was not well pleased with Mr. Bingley’s behaviour the previous day, and was not sure how she would hide her displeasure when he returned.
“I cannot give reason for his odd behaviour,” Elizabeth finally admitted. “Perhaps he truly had an appointment to keep. All I can say for certain is that he cannot regret seeing you again.” She reached out and clasped Jane’s hand. “Please, believe me. I know it to be true.”
“So you say,” Jane whispered back. “So you have said for weeks and months past. But how do you know?”
Elizabeth did not know how to respond and so she said nothing. She only held her sister’s hand and gave her a sympathetic smile.
Though she could not articulate her certainty, she did believe Mr. Bingley to have true feelings for Jane. Elizabeth’s belief, as strange as it seemed even to her, had only been confirmed by Mr. Bingley’s strange behaviour of the previous day. Elizabeth thought she recognised the wonderful fear that often accompanies great happiness in Mr. Bingley. But such observations were not based upon fact and so would not serve to provide Jane with any reassurances.
“Excuse me, Miss Jane, Miss Elizabeth.” Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts with a curtsy. “There are two gentlemen here to call upon you. A Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.”
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged surprised looks—it seemed the men had kept their promise and at a much earlier hour than anyone could have anticipated.
“Thank the Lord,” Mrs. Bennet breathed, staring at her eldest daughters. “You have not chased them away.”
Elizabeth gave her mother a withering glance, but otherwise ignored the comment. She knew Mr. Bingley would come back, but that Mr. Darcy had come as well was a pleasant surprise.
“They could have waited until a decent hour,” Mr. Bennet grumbled from behind his newspaper. “But they are not here to see me. I suppose if Jane and Lizzy can forgive them, it will be alright. And they have an eager mother to speed them on their way to
wards forgiveness, so I anticipate that everything will work out in the end.”
“Oh, hush, Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet said to her husband. “Girls,” she said quickly, turning her attention to Jane and Elizabeth. “You must go to receive them at once! You’re finished eating, and ready, and the rest of us will join you presently.”
Elizabeth still held a nearly uneaten piece of toast in her hand, but Mrs. Bennet seemed to ignore the food. Elizabeth sighed and put the toast down, knowing her breakfast was over. She wiped her lips and pushed her chair back, preparing herself to see Mr. Darcy once more. They had a pleasant conversation during his previous visit, and surely it had fulfilled the social niceties required by his presence in this part of the country. So why then had he returned?
She was so preoccupied by her own apprehensions that she did not notice how pale Jane had become until Jane gripped her hand with an iron-like grasp. With a gasp of pain, Elizabeth turned to her sister and saw how anxious Jane had become. Quickly, Elizabeth pushed her own wonderings aside and focused on supporting her sister.
“It will be alright, Jane,” Elizabeth said in a soothing tone. “No need to be nervous.”
Jane did not reply, just nodded quickly, her lips pressed together. Elizabeth stopped at the sitting room door and paused for a moment to allow Jane a second longer to compose herself.
“Ready?” She asked and Jane nodded her assent.
Elizabeth pushed the door open and immediately both men turned to face the incoming women. Elizabeth purposefully left the door ajar so their mother and sisters could join them at any time.
“Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “Mr. Darcy.” She dropped into a curtsy in greeting to them both. “What a pleasant surprise. We had not thought to see you until later today.”
“Yes,” Mr. Bingley said with a nervous laugh. “It is quite early, isn’t it? I suppose I thought the walk would take us a bit longer… We can go and come back if that would be more convenient?”
“No, no,” Jane said, her nervousness matching Mr. Bingley’s. “That is quite unnecessary. Would you care to sit?” Jane motioned towards a chair, and Mr. Bingley turned and sat down at once.
Mr. Darcy sat as well, but took his time. Elizabeth and Jane sat down across from the men, and Elizabeth saw that Mr. Darcy seemed to be hiding a smile behind his hand. His eyes were fixed on his friend, and it seemed that he found Mr. Bingley’s nervous disposition somewhat amusing. Elizabeth, for her part, thought the exchange between her sister and Mr. Bingley had become a bit humorous as well. However, the humour slackened somewhat as the silence stretched.
Finally, Elizabeth could stand it no longer and asked, “And how was your appointment?”
“Appointment?” Mr. Bingley echoed, somewhat confused. Elizabeth stifled a laugh.
“Yes, Bingley, our unavoidable appointment,” Mr. Darcy helpfully supplied.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Bingley said, turning red. “Quite boring actually. I would have done much better to have remained here.”
“Really?” Jane asked.
Mr. Bingley turned to her and took a deep breath.
“Really,” he said firmly. “It was complete nonsense that drove me away yesterday, and I shan’t allow it to happen again. Tell me, what have you been up to these last months?”
Jane smiled in delight over Mr. Bingley’s vow and his interest in her life. The nervous silence evaporated, and the two began to converse in growing comfort.
“I am glad to see that resolved,” Elizabeth whispered to Mr. Darcy.
“Indeed,” Mr. Darcy whispered back, smiling for his friend. “Though, he was telling the truth. The appointment was terrible indeed. To be avoided at all costs.”
“And what was so terrible?” Elizabeth asked, amused to find out how far Mr. Darcy would take the story. “Mr. Bingley merely said it was boring.”
Mr. Darcy paused and seemed to be thinking quickly.
“I wonder, Miss Elizabeth,” he said finally. “If you are familiar with the milk yield of dairy cows in this region of Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth stifled a laugh.
“No, Mr. Darcy,” she said in mock seriousness. “I cannot say that I am.”
“Well, thanks to our appointment, I am,” Mr. Darcy sighed. “And I would not think to bore you with the details.”
“Quite the contrary, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth objected. “I would be fascinated to learn about the agricultural yield of this part of the country.” She smiled at him, waiting for him to speak.
Mr. Darcy’s face bore the unmistakable look of a man who had been caught. He opened his mouth and closed it several times.
“There was no meeting,” Elizabeth said finally, laughing and shaking her head. “Though I compliment you on your determination to see the excuse through to the end.”
“Bingley just got nervous,” Mr. Darcy admitted. “And then he said there was an appointment, and… well, please forgive me my dishonesty. It was done at the service of a higher cause.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied. “Mr. Bingley, it seems, continues to benefit greatly from your friendship.”
Mr. Darcy turned red at this, and Elizabeth found herself blushing as well. The words were already out of her mouth before she realised that they could be taken as reference to Mr. Darcy’s previous actions. That had certainly not been her intent.
“Mr. Darcy,” she stammered. “I apologise, I had not intended to…”
“No, please,” he interrupted. “I know it was not your intent to censure, but it would be no more than I deserve. If ever I needed proof that I had been wrong, I see it now.”
He looked over at Jane and Mr. Bingley, laughing and talking together. Elizabeth followed his gaze and saw that her sister looked rapturously happy.
“And yet I see your hand in making this moment happen,” Elizabeth said. “And for that, I am most grateful.”
“It was what needed to be done,” Mr. Darcy said, turning his eyes back toward Elizabeth. His look filled her with a sense of contentment.
“And I am glad that your errand has brought you here as well,” Elizabeth said, surprising herself. But she knew her words to be true.
“As am I,” Mr. Darcy replied softly, a smile on his face.
Elizabeth, feeling nervous, laughed, breaking the building tension between them. Mr. Darcy looked startled for a moment, but soon joined her laughter.
After that, they began to converse in a manner as easy and light as Jane and Mr. Bingley. As the morning wore on, Elizabeth became more and more certain that she was glad Mr. Darcy had come to Longbourn.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth
Elizabeth sat by the window, a book in her lap, but she was not reading. Of course, if anyone would ask her what she was doing, she would have held up the book in explanation. However, she could not lie to herself. For her attention was not on the bound pages, but on the view of the road from her seat by the window. She was not eager to admit it, but she was watching out for the arrival of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.
The two men, much to the delight of Mrs. Bennet, had become a common sight in the house. They had visited every day since first arriving in Hertfordshire, and each day had brought more happiness to both Jane and Elizabeth.
All worries that Mr. Bingley did not hold Jane in high regard were long forgotten and the pain of their separation was but a distant memory. Jane and Mr. Bingley were falling into an easy and loving relationship that was marked by kindness and respect. Elizabeth could not be more happy for her sister.
“Are they here yet?” Jane asked quietly, slipping into the space beside Elizabeth on the window seat. “Do not pretend that you are not watching, for I have not seen you turn a page for nearly a quarter of an hour.”
Elizabeth smiled guiltily at her sister: she was caught.
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But do you know what they are planning? They said yesterday they had a surprise for us today, but can you imagine what it is?”
“Can you n
ot?” Jane’s eyes danced with delight. “Surely you can guess what might occur.”
“Well, if it was simply a matter of you and Mr. Bingley, I would say we were about to celebrate your engagement,” Elizabeth replied with a wide smile. “But Mr. Darcy made it seem as if there was a surprise for the both of us, and that I cannot imagine.”
“Is that so?” Jane said in disbelief. “Elizabeth, tell me for true right now, do you not think Mr. Darcy is much beholden with you?” Elizabeth turned scarlet: she knew what she wanted to believe.
Over the past days, she had tried to deny her growing attraction and regard for Mr. Darcy. She had tried to reason away the fluttering of her stomach and the rapid pace of her heart whenever he drew near. She had attempted, in the most violent way, to reject her own reality: She loved Mr. Darcy.
He had proved to be the sort of man she had always hoped she would one day marry. He was strong, intelligent, and kind. He thought of others first, and cared more about her welfare than his own. But most of all, he was not afraid to allow her to be herself. He was not intimidated by her strength of mind or character, instead, that was what he seemed to like most about her.
Elizabeth found herself staring at her sister, tears in her eyes, knowing very much what she wanted to believe was coming.
“Lizzy, whatever is the matter?” Jane said, concerned at the sudden tears in Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Oh, Jane, I know what I want to happen today—for both of us, but I am so afraid that I have ruined it all,” she admitted.
“You love him, don’t you?” Jane asked quietly. For Elizabeth had never admitted, even to her beloved sister, her depth of feeling for Mr. Darcy.
“I do,” Elizabeth whispered. “Desperately. More than I ever thought possible. But it matters not how I feel, for I have ruined any chance at a future with him.”
Jane smiled kindly. “Lizzy, you are smart in so many ways, but in this, you are quite the fool,” she gently chided.
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