Sorrow and Second Chances

by E Bradshaw

  He contemplated Mr Gardiner as he approached Longbourn and realised once again how wrong he had been in his assessment of Elizabeth’s family. He had always assumed that her relations in trade must be rather unrefined people; he had even contemplated trying to limit Elizabeth’s contact with those particular relations when he had imagined (completely foolishly, he now knew) that she would agree to become his wife. He scoffed aloud to think of his arrogance then. Having met Mr and Mrs Gardiner at the funeral three days before, he had realised just what well-bred and genteel people they really were – and once again, he had been forced to recognise just how completely wrong he had been to disparage them. In truth, he found himself wondering for the umpteenth time how he could have been so utterly idiotic. But what had plagued his mind most of all was his speculation as to how Elizabeth had felt to see him – and moreover, how she might feel to have him calling at her house once again.

  *****

  For a while they sat in awkward silence, drinking the tea that Mr Bennet’s servant had brought into the study for them. Darcy had seen no sign of the older two Bennet sisters, though he had briefly encountered Lydia and Catherine in the hallway outside. In fact, they had grimaced at the very sight of him and had made no secret of the fact that he was an unwelcome hindrance to them. Darcy rather suspected that he was an unwelcome hindrance to their father, too, though he could not bring himself to blame any of them for their feelings. He realised that he had done very little to create a good impression upon anyone in the neighbourhood during his last stay in Hertfordshire, just as he knew how desperately unhappy the whole family must be feeling through their current grief. He doubted that they were disposed to have visitors of any sort at the current time, though he imagined that the two young ladies would rather have had visits from some of the officers of the regiment, rather than from him.

  In truth, Mr Bennet seemed too drained to make any effort with visitors, and Darcy rather felt that he was imposing. Indeed, all his efforts at making polite conversation had fallen flat so far; Mr Bennet had either responded with small, disinterested shrugs, or else he had seemed too distracted to realise that Darcy had spoken to him at all. In some desperation, Darcy had wondered if he should directly broach the subject of Mrs Bennet’s death with the older gentleman and ask him how he was coping, but he felt that such questions might seem too tactless. Finally, out of all ideas as to what he should say, Darcy had begun to think of ways in which he could politely extricate himself. Indeed, it seemed that Mr Bennet’s tolerance had likewise reached its limit, for he seemed impatient to be left alone again.

  “You have been instructed to come and watch over me, I suspect? Is that it?” Mr Bennet asked in a distinctly irritable tone. “Well, thank you for the effort, Mr Darcy, but I don’t need looking after as if I am an infant!” he muttered grumpily.

  Darcy was aware that he should probably take the unmistakably curt prompt that Mr Bennet had given him and leave the poor man in peace, but despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to escape from such an uncomfortable obligation, his sense of duty and his feelings about what was right prevented him from abandoning the older man when he knew that he was suffering.

  He recollected in that moment just how angry and bewildered he had felt when his mother had died when he was still just a boy, and he remembered, too, his extreme suffering and grief when his father had died only five years ago. He could not be offended at Mr Bennet’s brusque words, for he knew all too well from his own experience just how relentless and exhausting the feelings of grief were. He recollected how irritated he had been at the time of his father’s death when people had tried to say comforting things to him, for most of the time their well-intentioned words had just seemed like trite nonsense. In fact, he rather suspected that this was how Mr Bennet felt now. Thus, Darcy felt that if he really wanted to support Mr Bennet, the best way he could start would be by dropping the polite but meaningless conversation which most people seemed to believe was suitable in situations such as this.

  “I don’t blame you for your anger, Mr Bennet,” he therefore answered in a forthright tone; “for I remember feeling just the same way when my father died. I remember feeling that if I had to listen to one more person offering me their condolences and giving me what they imagined was comforting advice, then I would go mad. I remember wishing that they would all just leave me alone and stop bothering me with their good intentions.”

  Pausing for a moment, Darcy fixed Mr Bennet with a straightforward look before continuing. “And if you’d like me to go and leave you in peace now, then I will. But if you want me to stay and keep you company, then I’m happy to do that. I promise that you can say anything you want to me and I will not be shocked; you can rant and rave and swear, and I will not think any less of you for it.”

  An expression of surprise briefly flittered across Mr Bennet’s face in response to Darcy’s frankness, and Darcy noticed that some of the rigidity seemed to drop from the older man’s posture as well. It was clear that Mr Bennet wasn’t at all offended by his bluntness, and in fact he laughed softly and shook his head to himself as if to suggest that Darcy’s words had taken him by surprise.

  “Well then, by all means, stay if you want to,” retorted Mr Bennet with a somewhat grim smile; “though I’m afraid you might find me rather difficult company just now.” He put his tea cup and saucer down with an impatient gesture, adding, “but let us have no more of this tea! I am heartily sick of drinking tea and making polite conversation!”

  Darcy returned Mr Bennet’s grim smile with a sardonic look of his own. “Then you will get no polite conversation from me, sir. Indeed, from what I have heard people say of me, I’m not sure that I’m even capable of it,” he added dryly.

  Mr Bennet uttered a bark of laughter at this and heaved himself up from his chair. “Then would you join me in having something a little stronger, young man?” he asked, as he walked towards a sideboard and nodded his head at the brandy decanter there.

  “Yes, by all means,” agreed Darcy.

  Mr Bennet proceeded to pour two servings of brandy, though Darcy didn’t comment on the generous measure of the portions. He rather suspected that the older man had had his fill of being fussed over by other people and he wasn’t about to add to their number. Instead, he quietly thanked Mr Bennet for the drink and took a thoughtful sip.

  “Well now, what do you propose we do?” asked Mr Bennet. “I assure you, I am not in the mood for making conversation.”

  “No more am I,” agreed Darcy. As he spoke, he spotted a chess board and pieces laid out on a table by the window. “How about a game of chess?” he suggested, with a gesture towards the table. “I’d be interested to find out if you could beat me.”

  “I reckon I could; I’m not that senile just yet,” retorted Mr Bennet dryly.

  *****

  The two of them passed a companionable hour in this fashion, and Darcy hoped that he had been of some use in helping Mr Bennet to forget his grief, if only for a little while. However, though he thought that the older man’s attitude had softened towards him somewhat during his visit, he did not necessarily expect Mr Bennet to encourage him to visit again. Thus, Darcy was quite pleasantly surprised when Mr Bennet saw him out to the front door himself and urged him to return.

  “I’ve enjoyed our game, Mr Darcy,” he said. “And I think I even taught you not to be so cocky on the second round,” he joked with a glimmer of a smile. “You will come again, won’t you?” he added hopefully.

  Darcy smiled in response and was about to make a droll reply of his own, but a movement in the hallway behind Mr Bennet suddenly caught his attention. He realised immediately that it was Elizabeth in the hallway – and she had evidently heard her father’s words, for she stopped in her tracks and looked over at the two of them in surprise. Clearly, she had not been aware until that moment that he had been calling upon her father, and once again, Darcy found himself wondering how she felt about seeing him there. He wondered anxiously
if his presence was as unwelcome to her as he had been earlier to her younger sisters.

  He couldn’t help it, but his easy attitude died away as quickly as his smile did in response to her scrutiny, and he felt himself becoming stiff and ill-at-ease once again. He therefore made a quick bow to Mr Bennet, feeling suddenly desperate to escape. “Of course I will come, sir,” he answered quickly. “I will call tomorrow afternoon after luncheon, if that is convenient, and see if I can best you again. After all, I would not want you to think that I give in that easily,” he added with a wry expression.

  *****

  True to his word, the following afternoon Darcy returned to Longbourn to call on Mr Bennet again. To his surprise, he had actually found himself greatly anticipating the call, for though he knew he ran the risk of encountering Elizabeth again (with all the agony and confusion that such moments created for him), he had found that he truly enjoyed Mr Bennet’s company. He had discovered that the older gentleman had a dry sense of humour that easily matched his own, as well as many similar interests. It was rare for Darcy to meet someone who had such razor-sharp intelligence as Mr Bennet clearly had, and he had enjoyed exchanging opinions with him.

  Charles had decided to accompany him on his visit that day, though Darcy suspected that his friend’s interest in paying a call at Longbourn had rather more to do with the eldest Miss Bennet than from any wish to pay a call upon her father. Of course, Darcy wished above all else to see Elizabeth again, but their interactions were always so fraught with underlying tension that he never really knew how she felt to see him. He only knew that the two of them were always very uncomfortable whenever they were obliged to be near one another, and thus he judged it best to avoid her as much as possible until he could learn how to control his responses to her. However, upon their arrival, he and Charles discovered that Mr Bennet was already engaged with visitors in his study, and so to his dismay, they were instead shown into the sitting room where they found the Bennet ladies sitting quietly together.

  Darcy felt his heart begin to thump with alarming rapidity, as it always did whenever he saw Elizabeth, and thus he could not help but resort to the relative safety of his usual reserve whilst he attempted to maintain his outward appearance of calm. Thus, after bowing formally to the collected group of young ladies, he strode over towards the far window, ostensibly in order to gaze out at the view. Charles, in comparison, was never short of charming things to say, and despite the sombre mood at Longbourn that day, he soon had the ladies looking much brighter than they had when they had first arrived. Consequently, Darcy was forced to listen in tongue-tied silence whilst Charles made effortless small talk – and he could not help but envy his friend’s easy manners and wish that he could likewise make women smile as Charles could.

  When he felt suitably composed at last, Darcy risked a glance over his shoulder in Elizabeth’s direction, but he saw to his disappointment that she was determinedly avoiding his gaze and instead focussing her attention upon her embroidery. He wondered if he should attempt to broach any sort of conversation with her or her sisters, but he found it completely impossible to know how to begin. He had never possessed the same lightness of sprit as his friend had, and he could not easily pick up the thread of other people’s conversations and join in, as he had often seen others do. He remembered his cousin’s lecture as he stood alone by the window and grimaced to himself at his own ineptitude. “Try smiling at her for once,” Richard had admonished him in his teasing way; “and perhaps even making some polite conversation.” Darcy truly wished that it was that easy, but it was a skill that he had simply never possessed.

  Consequently, he was most relieved when they suddenly heard a noise in the hallway outside, followed by the abrupt arrival of Mr Bennet himself. He strode into the sitting room, looking more than a little aggravated, and he muttered angrily to himself as if incensed over something. “With friends like that, who needs enemies?” he muttered aloud in an agitated tone. He stopped in mid-stride when he noticed that his daughters had company, however, and his expression changed to one of genuine pleasure when he spotted Darcy. “Oh, thank goodness for some rational company at last!” Mr Bennet greeted the two of them with a wry huff of exasperation.

  In this situation, at least, Darcy felt completely at ease, though he noticed that his friend, in comparison, looked utterly lost. Clearly, whomever it was who had just been visiting Mr Bennet had entirely eroded his goodwill and patience. “I’m not sure that my friend and I could always be considered as rational,” Darcy greeted the older man with a wry smile and a bow, “though I’m glad to see that our company does not leave you feeling completely exasperated, at least.”

  Mr Bennet gave a short, bitter bark of laughter in response. “Lord save me from any more visits such as that one!” he exclaimed. “No, Mr Darcy, I might have heard some people say that you are too reserved, but I would rather have your silence and common sense any day than all the chatter and nonsense I’ve just had to endure for the last forty minutes!”

  Darcy found himself wondering if it had actually been Elizabeth who had spoken about him in such critical terms, and the thought upset him so much that for a moment he was completely incapable of making any sort of reply. He hated to think that she might still hold such negative views of him as she had expressed so forthrightly before; indeed, the feeling of hurt that washed over him in that moment was so great that he almost felt as if he had been physically winded. To his surprise, however, he was saved from having to make any sort of reply by Elizabeth herself, for she hastily spoke up just then in response to her father’s grumbling. Indeed, it was quite clear from her tone that she felt very uncomfortable at her father’s comment – and at the revelation that he had inadvertently made.

  “Some of our neighbours do not possess the sense to know when it is best to remain silent, as Mr Darcy does,” she commented uneasily. “Come, Papa, put their comments out of mind! Don’t let them upset you so much.”

  “I think it was very kind of Sir William and Mr Collins to come and offer their condolences to us,” interjected Mary somewhat primly. “After all, a friend in need is a friend indeed,” she added solemnly.

  “Well, I feel sorry for Papa,” exclaimed Lydia forcefully, before anyone else could respond. “I would have been so bored having to endure their company! Sir William and Mr Collins together in one visit; it’s enough to drive a person out of the house entirely! To be sure, I would have escaped if I had not been forced to remain here,” she added, with a distinctly mutinous glare towards her two eldest sisters.

  Although Lydia’s words had been extremely impolite, neither Mr Bennet nor his two eldest daughters reprimanded her. Jane shook her head at her youngest sister as if to convey her disapproval, though she could not prevent her lips from twitching with a little smile at the same time. She exchanged a look of amusement with Elizabeth; clearly, Lydia had only said what they had all been thinking, though only Lydia had been blunt enough to say it out loud. And although Darcy knew that strictly speaking Mr Bennet should have reprimanded his youngest daughter for her impolite words, he nevertheless could not help but think how nice it was to see the Bennet family enjoying a moment of mirth together – and especially considering the terribly sad time that they were going through.

  He exchanged a wry look of amusement with Mr Bennet and the older man rolled his eyes upwards, as if to privately convey his dual feelings of exasperation and amusement at his youngest daughter’s bluntness. Nevertheless, Darcy could easily sense just how agitated Mr Bennet still felt following his conversation with his two most recent visitors, and thus he thought it best to come up with a scheme to distract him. “I think perhaps a ride out in the fresh air might do you a lot of good, Mr Bennet,” he proposed decisively. “At least, I have found that a brisk ride outside has usually helped to clear my head whenever I have been upset over something.”

  He did not mean to, but his eyes strayed in Elizabeth’s direction as he spoke, remembering as he did all the time
s when he had been driven outside on brooding, solitary rides whilst he had been attempting to deal with his heartbreak. Indeed, he thought that Elizabeth must have sensed his gaze upon her and understood something of what was passing through his mind in that moment, for she glanced up with an expression of grave concern on her face and briefly met his troubled look. She blushed and looked away shortly afterwards, looking as if she were extremely uncomfortable – and the moment of candour between them passed as quickly as it had arisen. Nevertheless, Darcy felt certain that Elizabeth had understood in that fleeting look something of the abject pain which he had suffered ever since she had rejected him.

  “That sounds like a very good idea,” responded Mr Bennet vehemently.

  His words abruptly broke into Darcy’s private contemplation, and with a jolt, he quickly looked away from Elizabeth and tried to appear composed once again.

  “I know I won’t be able to face any more visitors today with even passable courtesy,” continued Mr Bennet with a grimace, “and after my last visitors, I certainly feel a great need to expel some anger.”

  “Well then,” responded Darcy in a brisk tone as he endeavoured to refocus his thoughts, “let us go out immediately.”

  Chapter 5

  Inevitably the Bennet family were troubled by a great deal of visitors in the days following Mrs Bennet’s funeral, for although the family were in a state of deep mourning, their neighbours all considered it their duty to make regular visits in order to offer their condolences and to check up on the family’s welfare. Such intentions were undeniably well-meant, but only a select few of the visitors who called at Longbourn were actually genuinely welcome. Darcy and Charles were of this small number, though neither of them wished to impose upon the family and so they did not call again until two days later. However, to their surprise, they found the sitting room at Longbourn to be full of people when they arrived, and Darcy could not help but grimace and wish they had not come at all when he realised that their visit had coincided with a visit by several of the officers from the regiment.