by E Bradshaw
In all honesty, he only actually tolerated their company because they were family to one of his closest friends; if he could have avoided them altogether then he would have gladly done so. Darcy had always found Mrs Hurst’s and Miss Bingley’s conversation to be excessively tedious – but he had found their company even more difficult to bear in the months since they had all departed from Netherfield Hall last November. The sisters had clearly been relishing in their triumph in separating their brother from Jane Bennet, though Darcy had found their glee to be really quite off-putting in the face of their brother’s continued misery.
What was even more tiresome for Darcy, however, was Miss Bingley’s unremitting and seemingly tireless efforts to flatter him and to gain his attention. And unfortunately, she seemed to have interpreted their hasty departure from Netherfield Hall as a sign that her relentless efforts were proving successful. She even seemed to believe that they shared a mutual outlook on the world in general, but Darcy had become heartily sick of hearing her sneering comments at the expense of anyone whom she believed to be inferior to herself. Caroline Bingley had always been pushy in her overtures towards him, but since they had left Hertfordshire (and more significantly, had left behind the two Bennet women whom she clearly deemed as a threat), she had seemingly made it her mission in life to charm him into thinking of her as his potential future wife. However, despite all her efforts (or more likely, because of them), Darcy’s aversion towards Miss Bingley had only grown as her attentions had become steadily more persistent.
Ever considerate of other people’s feelings (and always a little too naive to their actual intentions), Charles had asked his sisters if they wished to accompany him and Darcy on the journey to Hertfordshire in order to attend Mrs Bennet’s wake. Though they could not, of course, attend the funeral service itself,[1] Charles, in his absolute goodness, had genuinely believed that his sisters might wish to offer consolation to the ladies of the Bennet household whilst the men were at church. Charles had imagined that his sisters would wish to pay their respects to a lady whom had once been their neighbour, albeit for only a few short months, believing that they must be as saddened by the news of her passing as he had been himself. It was so typical of Charles to always see the best in other people and to believe that their intentions were as pure as his own – but in comparison, Darcy had not been in the least bit surprised when his friend’s sisters had scornfully declined to attend.
For his own part, Darcy could only be relieved that his friend’s sisters had rejected their brother’s offer, for it meant that he would not be obliged to endure their prattling small talk on the journey to Hertfordshire. Moreover, he knew all too well that there were no great feelings of affection between Charles’ sisters and the ladies of the Bennet household, and thus he felt it would be far kinder to those ladies if they were not obliged to face any additional strain that day. He knew that both Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth would have greeted Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst with all due civility, but he could not imagine it would be easy for either of them to have to be polite towards two women whom they surely knew bore them no good will.
Dwelling on the day ahead, Darcy absentmindedly touched his fingers to his black armband as he watched the London scenery passing by his carriage window. He had dressed with particular care that day, wishing to demonstrate in every way he possibly could the sincerity of his sympathy for the Bennet family. Yet again, he found himself mulling over his previous interactions with Elizabeth – and he fervently hoped that he would not be unwelcome. He knew that Elizabeth would likely be surprised to see him there, but he hoped that she would perceive his presence at Longbourn in the spirit that he intended it to be taken; as an offer of solidarity to her family and as a mark of respect to her mother.
Indeed, ever since Charles had first brought the news of Mrs Bennet’s death, he had endlessly berated himself for his unkind words in regard to Elizabeth’s family, and in particular, about her mother. He knew he had sometimes been downright disrespectful in the way that he had spoken about Mrs Bennet, and he knew that Elizabeth was far too astute to have missed his censure. He remembered the cruel words that he had spat at her on the day when she had refused him; he had been lashing out as a wounded animal would lash out, but his wounded feelings were still no excuse for how he had spoken to her that day. “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? – to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
He closed his eyes against the memory of those awful words and fervently hoped that the day might one day come when Elizabeth could forgive him. He hoped that she would not rebuff his efforts to restore some measure of peace between them – though he secretly feared how she might react when she saw him again. Indeed, he wondered for the umpteenth time how she had taken his letter and whether she had accepted his truths about Wickham. His letter had been sincere, but he also acknowledged to himself that he had written it in a state of great agitation, and he knew that some of his comments had been far from charitable – and especially those made about her family.
He and Charles planned to remain in Hertfordshire for a week, but Darcy did not really know what he could – or should – hope to achieve during that time. It would certainly not be an appropriate time to try and court Elizabeth, and nor was he sure that she would even welcome his presence in Hertfordshire in the first place. Instead, his thoughts were wholly concerned with her welfare and of that of her family. He felt he must be content to simply see her again and to assure himself that she was well. If he could offer her some comfort in whatever way he could – and in whatever way she was willing to accept – then he knew he would have to be satisfied with that. If he could leave her with a better impression of himself than she currently held, he brooded to himself, then at least he could leave the way open for them to meet again in the future on friendlier terms.
*****
The funeral was a sombre affair, and the skies mirrored the bleakness of the occasion by sending forth a steady downpour that persisted throughout the entire duration of the service. Consequently, the ground was completely sodden by the time the collected mourners proceeded outside to the graveyard to lay Mrs Bennet to rest. Indeed, the vicar barely hid his eagerness to return indoors out of the gusting wind and rain, and thus he hurried through the words of the sermon as speedily as he could. Even so, despite the dismal weather, Darcy was surprised to see so many people gathered around the graveside, and he began to comprehend then from their numbers just how well-regarded Mrs Bennet had been by her neighbours and friends.
Inevitably, Darcy found himself glancing quite frequently at Mr Bennet whilst they were stood around the graveside, for he presented a truly wretched sight. Mr Bennet had never been a robust-looking man, being of a naturally lean stature, but he looked really quite ill that day, to Darcy’s thinking. In truth, it looked as if the older gentleman had stopped eating entirely, for he appeared really quite gaunt as he stood staring down into his wife’s grave. Indeed, he looked so frail that it almost seemed as though he could be blown over by a strong gust of wind. Gone were the little smiles and the wry humour that had always illuminated Mr Bennet’s face in the past; instead, he looked as though he had aged a decade in the space of a week.
Indeed, Darcy could not help but feel a great deal of compassion for the older gentleman, along with a sincere wish to offer him some measure of consolation and protection, and thus after the graveside sermon had been concluded, he stepped towards Mr Bennet in order to shield him from the weather. “Here, Mr Bennet,” he said kindly, as he held his umbrella over the older gentleman’s head; “I do not think you should get any wetter than you already are.”
Mr Bennet glanced up at him with pain-dulled eyes. “Oh, it is you, is it, Mr Darcy?” he murmured absently, as he belatedly recognised who it was who had spoken to him.
Another gentleman stepped towards them then, with an evident wish to lead Mr Bennet back to Longbourn Ho
use. Darcy had noticed the other man standing by Mr Bennet’s side throughout the funeral service and he therefore guessed that the gentleman must be a close relation or friend, though Darcy could not recollect encountering the other gentleman whilst he had previously resided in the area.
“Edward, this is Mr Darcy,” Mr Bennet murmured to his companion. “Mr Darcy, this is my brother-in-law, Mr Gardiner.”
Darcy gave a small bow in greeting, though the older man only gave him a keen look and a quick nod in return. “Yes, I have heard of you, Mr Darcy,” Mr Gardiner acknowledged him in a grim tone. Then, with no further ado, he turned to his brother-by-marriage and urged him to return to Longbourn at once so they could escape from the downpour.
Darcy watched the older gentlemen as they retreated and wondered to himself about Mr Gardiner’s terse greeting. He knew he should not read too much into Mr Gardiner’s manners, just as he reminded himself that the older gentleman might simply have been concerned for Mr Bennet’s welfare and eager to get him back indoors out of the driving rain. Then there was the fact that Mr Gardiner had just buried his sister and would therefore not likely be in a particularly forthcoming mood. Nevertheless, Darcy could not help but wonder if Mr Gardiner had heard unfavourable reports of him which had made the older man view him in a negative light.
He re-joined his friend, and together he and Charles followed the rest of the crowd back towards Longbourn House. Darcy remained silent as they walked, privately mulling over his brief encounter with Mr Gardiner. He could see the resemblance between Mr Gardiner and his deceased sister now that he had been made aware of their connection, for the gentleman shared the same look of pink-cheeked, vigorous health that Mrs Bennet had always appeared to enjoy in the past. However, Darcy thought that their appearance was perhaps where the similarities ended between the siblings. Although their meeting had been very brief, Darcy had detected a gleam of intelligence in Mr Gardiner’s eyes which had made him believe that the older gentleman likely did not share his late sister’s silly nature. Indeed, Mr Gardiner had looked quite prosperous in his appearance, and thus Darcy could only assume that the gentleman must be rather successful in his business dealings.
Closer observation and further conversations with Mr Gardiner would no doubt confirm whether or not his instincts were correct, but Darcy was ashamed now as he thought back to the disparaging comments that he had made in the past about Elizabeth’s relations in trade. In truth, he began to comprehend all over again what an arrogant fool he had been – and he found himself wondering just how much Mr Gardiner knew of his past dealings with Elizabeth. He knew that Jane had been residing with her Gardiner relations in the winter months, just as he likewise knew that Elizabeth had travelled onto London to stay with those same relations after her stay in Kent. His own mood following his failed proposal had been extremely bleak, and he wondered (and not for the first time) how Elizabeth had been in the days and weeks following their last meeting. It seemed likely that Elizabeth’s relations would have noticed if her mood had been low or her thoughts were distracted, and thus he could not help but wonder to himself how much of the truth she might have shared with her relations – and whether his name had come up in conversations between them as a consequence.
*****
As soon as Darcy entered the sitting room at Longbourn, his eyes immediately scanned the room in the hope of seeing Elizabeth. He soon found her at the refreshments table, pouring tea for her father’s guests. His heart inevitably missed a beat as he gazed at her, and he had to forcibly remind himself not to stare too much. Instead, in his effort to appear composed, he endeavoured to re-focus his attention on the conversation of his immediate companions. Nevertheless, he could not prevent his eyes from repeatedly straying in her direction, and he drank in every detail of her appearance. She looked so pale and fragile in her severe black mourning dress that he wanted nothing more than to go to her and wrap her up within the protection of his arms. It was quite obvious to him that she was doing her best to be strong and courageous for the sake of her family, but he could easily see by the strained expression around her eyes just how close to tears she really was.
She glanced up just then, as if instinctively aware that his gaze was resting upon her. Their eyes met and held, and Darcy suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breathe. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though all else in the room had faded out of existence, leaving only him and Elizabeth staring at one another. Then she swiftly looked away again with an expression of obvious unease and the contact was broken between them. Darcy was left standing in a state of complete disorientation, wondering to himself how she had felt to see him there, and wondering whether his presence in her home brought her more pain than pleasure.
Finally, he plucked up the courage to approach her on the pretence of asking for a drink. He watched her carefully as he approached and did not miss her wide-eyed look of apprehension when she saw him drawing closer. Quickly she schooled her features into a more composed expression, though there was no mistaking the embarrassment in her tone as she spoke to him.
“Oh – Mr Darcy, I did not expect to see you here.”
“I came to ask for a cup of tea,” he explained somewhat awkwardly. He mentally kicked himself in the very next moment, realising too late that that was not what she had meant.
“No, I didn’t mean –” she began.
However, he inadvertently interrupted her as he likewise hastened to explain himself more coherently. “That is, I meant, umm –”
They both abruptly stopped speaking and self-consciously avoided looking at one another.
“Please, Mr Darcy, do go on,” Elizabeth urged hastily.
“I meant to say that Mr Bingley and I have come to pay our respects to your mother,” he explained. “That’s why we are here.” He hesitated as he wondered whether or not to add what was most present in his mind, and then decided to risk it. “I hope my presence here does not cause you discomfort,” he added quietly.
“No, sir...” Elizabeth replied with obvious embarrassment, “that is, it is kind of you to come – especially after... what has passed...”
Darcy could see from her flushed cheeks just how acutely uncomfortable Elizabeth was, and he wished above all else to make her feel less anxious and to bring her whatever comfort he could. “Please, Miss Bennet, do not make yourself uneasy on my account,” he murmured in a low tone.
He would have liked to have said more, except that they were joined just then by another guest who had evidently come to speak to Elizabeth. They both flushed as if they had been caught doing something improper, and whilst Darcy stiffened in an attempt to cover his unease, Elizabeth swiftly lowered her eyes and busied herself in preparing him a drink. He could see that it would be quite impossible to speak to her there, and so he politely bowed his head and hastily took the offered teacup and saucer that she held out to him. “Thank you,” he muttered, before he quickly strode away.
It was only when he reached the relative safety of the opposite side of the room that he felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow down a little. He realised then how tightly he was gripping the dainty china saucer in his hand, and he consciously forced himself to relax his grip and loosen his stiff posture. He glanced back at Elizabeth, but it seemed to him that she was studiously avoiding looking in his direction and was instead engaged in a conversation with one of her neighbours. He saw Elizabeth struggling to maintain her composure as her neighbour spoke to her, and Darcy could only imagine that she had had to suppress her emotions time and time again that day in an effort to appear strong. It was only as such a thought occurred to him that he realised with a jolt of consternation that he hadn’t offered her his condolences whilst they had spoken. He felt utterly stupid as he realised that he had once again managed to mess up his conversation with Elizabeth, and he inwardly berated himself for yet again appearing like an uncaring, ill-mannered snob.
In desperation, he looked around the room in an effort to find an escape from his own se
nse of shame. He spotted his friend Charles unsuccessfully trying to make conversation with Mr Bennet, but instead he was becoming increasingly tongue-tied, and thus Darcy thought it best to go to his friend’s rescue. Charles was always at ease in light-hearted sitting room conversations, or at lively ballroom gatherings, but he was always completely out of his depth in solemn situations such as this. It was clear to Darcy that his friend was becoming increasingly ill-at-ease as he struggled to find the right things to say to Mr Bennet. The truth was that there were no right things to say in such a tragic situation as this, and Darcy guessed that Mr Bennet would probably prefer not to have to deal with his neighbour’s attempts at conversation at all. At least, that was how he remembered feeling when his own dear father had passed away – and so he thought it best that he went over to rescue the both of them.
Chapter 3
Darcy didn’t encounter Elizabeth again for some time that afternoon, for it seemed that they were both deliberately avoiding one another. Nevertheless, Darcy was sorely tempted to intervene a while later when he happened to overhear Mr Collins spouting his usual nonsense at the two elder Bennet sisters. Nothing he had ever heard from his aunt’s parson throughout the whole of their acquaintance had ever led Darcy to believe that he was actually capable of uttering anything even remotely sensible, though the pompous little man clearly thought that he was providing the two women with some invaluable gems of consolation and advice. However, Darcy was aghast when he heard what it was that Mr Collins was saying to them, and thus he instantly drew closer, wishing to provide the Bennet ladies with whatever aid he could.
He stood to one side of the room behind the sisters and so they did not see him, though Mr Collins, in comparison, clearly noticed his presence, for he stood up a little straighter and seemed to be taking the opportunity to demonstrate his preaching skills, knowing full well that he was within the hearing of one of his noble patroness’ closest relations.
