I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  "What an excellent idea!" said the colonel, standing up. "Have you seen it, Miss Bennet?" he asked, offering her his arm.

  Jane dutifully took the proffered arm, and the Gardiners stood up to follow.

  Upon entering the grand room, Mr Darcy expressed a wish to show Elizabeth some new volumes of poetry he had recently obtained and walked quickly to the far end of the library.

  Poetry? What use do I have for poetry? thought Elizabeth. She preferred useful books, books of facts; although she had to admit to being entertained by the occasional novel, which the sisters read aloud to one another as they worked. The one which Mary had recently read, written by an author who deigned only to identify herself as "A Lady", had been particularly entertaining.

  For his part, Colonel Fitzwilliam insisted on showing Miss Bennet a very creditable bust of Cicero in the vestibule and proceeded to catalogue its attributes, from the quality of the marble to the execution of the reproduction.

  Pulling a volume at random from the shelves, Darcy interposed himself between Elizabeth and the Gardiners, turning his back to them.

  "Miss Elizabeth," he said in a low voice, "did you read my letter?"

  She nodded her affirmation warily.

  "Then you know I sincerely regret what occurred at Hunsford."

  What occurred? thought Lizzy. It sounded like an act of God, something beyond his control. He was denying responsibility.

  "I appreciate the sentiment, Mr Darcy, though I doubt your sincerity."

  "What must I do to convince you of that?" he replied rather bitterly.

  "You have admitted your fault. But what have you done to repent?"

  "Many things, Miss Elizabeth. Your set-down has changed my perspective on life. I strive to be a better person."

  "Actions speak louder than words, Mr Darcy. In your letter, you admitted interfering between Mr Bingley and Jane; acting to keep them apart. Have you made Mr Bingley aware of your subterfuge?"

  He was silent.

  "Mr Darcy, you have exposed one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involved them both in misery of the acutest kind. Repentance is not enough. Atonement is necessary."

  "Then Miss Elizabeth, the perfect opportunity for atonement is upon us. Mr Bingley arrives tomorrow."

  Darcy then looked at the volume of poetry in his hands, which happened to be one of Wordsworth's. Knowing that Elizabeth liked taking long walks, he thought the coincidence a happy one.

  Stepping out of the Gardiners' line of sight, he offered it to her. "Would you do me the honour of reading it?"

  "I couldn't possibly borrow it, Mr Darcy. It is too valuable."

  "Please," he urged, "just until you leave Derbyshire."

  Receiving the volume reluctantly, Elizabeth moved back towards the group. Following in her wake, Mr Darcy enquired of Mr Gardiner how much longer they intended to stay in Lambton.

  "Not much longer, I'm afraid, Mr Darcy. I'm expecting a shipment within the week. I will need to leave once they send word the ship has docked."

  "Do you like fishing, Mr Gardiner?" asked Darcy.

  Mr Gardiner replied he was very fond of fishing, though he was seldom able to indulge the taste. Elizabeth heard Mr Darcy invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish at Pemberley as often as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle.

  "I was just saying to Miss Elizabeth," continued Darcy, "that a great friend of mine, who was also acquainted with the Bennets in Hertfordshire, arrives tomorrow."

  Georgiana, who at that moment had wandered into the library having packed away her sheet music, heard the tail end of the conversation.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly more animated. "Is Mr Bingley arriving tomorrow? He is such a nice person!"

  Jane blushed, and Elizabeth wondered if Caroline's assertion of an attachment between Mr Darcy's sister and Mr Bingley was true after all.

  "You must come for a picnic!" declared Georgiana.

  Mr Darcy stared at his little sister in amazement. When had she become so sociable?

  At length, it was decided that the morrow was as good a day as any. Mr Gardiner undertook to arrive early on a job horse so that he might fish, while the Darcy carriage would be sent for the ladies at eleven.

  Chapter 37: The picnic

  After the carriage departed, Darcy finally had a chance to collar Richard as they walked back through the house.

  "What sad news did your brother receive?"

  "The sad news," replied Richard, "is that my father wishes to draw and quarter him."

  "What has he done now?"

  "I believe my father caught him in the townhouse of his new paramour."

  "So he fled to Derbyshire?" asked Darcy, rolling his eyes.

  "My father rusticated him. He was escorted to Matlock by two footmen."

  "So what is he doing here at Pemberley, and why did you not prevent his coming?"

  "Sorry, Darce. I arrived from Newcastle to find the house in an uproar. Took me half an hour to establish that my brother had taken his horse. Seems he's been on the sauce for several days now. Apparently Miranda and Mother hid and locked up anything drinkable, including the rubbing alcohol. Henry went on a rampage when he found out. I set off after him straight away, knew that he was likely heading here, but his horse is better than mine–cost him a mint at Tattersalls, though I'll be damned if I know how he stays on it when he's legless."

  "For Pete's sake, Richard; Georgie has only just come home from Matlock. Do you mean to tell me he's been behaving like this while Georgiana was there?"

  "Well, I won't tell you then. I'm sure Mother would have kept Georgie safe in another part of the house."

  Darcy grimaced. It was not just that Georgie might have been harmed; the thought that she had to witness a man in such a state discomposed her brother.

  "So uncle rusticated him. How thoughtful of him to let his wife and daughter-in-law deal with the problem!"

  "He's got lots of important things to do in London," replied Richard, "like mounting his mistress when Henry's not doing it for him."

  "So, what now?" sighed Darcy.

  "For the moment, I've tied him to the bed and left a footman with him, so he doesn't drown in his own vomit."

  "How repulsive!"

  "I'd better go check him before I turn in. Wouldn't do for him to croak on my watch–there'd be a hell of a scandal."

  "Which footman is with him?" asked Darcy.

  "Povey said he'd take the midnight to dawn watch."

  "Good, he's reliable. I guess we'll work out what to do with him in the morning. Pity I don't have any dungeons."

  "Well, we still have one at Matlock," replied Richard, "though we use it as a cellar these days, so probably not the best place to store him."

  Having reached the top of the stairs, Richard slapped Darcy on the back and headed off to the guest wing to check on his brother, muttering goodnight as he went.

  Darcy turned into the family wing and almost ran into Georgiana.

  "Georgie!" he blurted in surprise. Darcy was embarrassed his little sister might have caught him using less then decorous language. "How long have you been standing there?"

  "Stop trying to wrap everything up in clean linen, brother," said Georgiana. "I'm not the least bit interested in whatever sordid thing Henry is doing now."

  Darcy wondered who this lady was and what she had done with his sister.

  "Is Miss Elizabeth the one?" Georgie asked.

  Darcy was speechless. He briefly considered denying it, but he knew it was useless.

  "Yes."

  "She's very nice."

  "Yes."

  "So why did she refuse you?" asked Georgiana.

  "Georgiana, please…" pleaded Darcy. "It's too embarrassing."

  "I can't help you, if you don't tell me."

  "Please, Georgiana, I need to tell Mrs Reynolds of the picnic."


  "It is already done, Brother."

  Georgiana waited, but Darcy was not forthcoming.

  "I wish you would stop treating me like I am five years old," sniffed Georgiana, retreating to her room. "George Wickham was one mistake."

  And with that she slammed her bedchamber door.

  Darcy wondered when his little sister had grown up.

  He had difficulty going to sleep–mortified by the viscount's interruption of dinner. The scene played over and over again in his head.

  Darcy remembered how he had got drunk after Christmas dinner at the Hursts’ and spent so much time at the brothel before going to Kent. He wondered if that was how Miss Elizabeth viewed him: as a drunken, profligate member of the Ton. He had always viewed himself as a world away from his disreputable cousin, the viscount; but really the sins were the same; it was just a question of degree…

  He suddenly felt intensely disgusted with himself.

  Mr Gardiner presented himself at Pemberley after breakfast for the projected fishing expedition. Darcy spent some time showing him the best spots in the stream and then left him to the care of an under-groom who was also a keen fisherman. Darcy was in no mood for fishing himself. He returned to the house, contemplating just what he would say to Bingley when he turned up.

  Bingley had sent word to Darcy the previous day that he had arrived in Sheffield and would likely proceed to Pemberley on the morrow. Knowing his friend's tendency to get distracted, Darcy sent a footman off at cockcrow to either intercept Bingley or roust him from the inn. The message he carried instructed Bingley to get himself to Pemberley by noon, even if he needed to ride ventre à terre to do so.

  Bingley had, as advised, set out from Sheffield that morning after a leisurely breakfast and was proceeding at his usual pace by alternately walking and cantering his horse. He had never been much of a horseman–he didn't have Darcy's seat and couldn't stand trotting. Still, he preferred getting the exercise to sitting in a carriage.

  When he was intercepted by the footman, Bingley scanned Darcy's missive, wondering if there was some family emergency–there was no explanation, just the instruction to come. Nonetheless, he implicitly trusted his friend and set the horse into a full canter. He would change horses at the next posting house if necessary.

  He arrived at Pemberley around half-eleven and was greeted at the front door by Mrs Reynolds, who took his hat and showed him into Darcy's study.

  "Bingley!" said Darcy, striding towards his friend. "You are here in the nick of time!"

  "What is going forward, Darcy?" asked Bingley, seeing his friend uncharacteristically agitated.

  "I have a confession to make Bingley. You had better sit down."

  Bingley frowned. "I think I'll stand."

  "Bingley, do you remember when you left Netherfield last year and I helped convince you that you were mistaken in Miss Jane Bennet's feelings for you?

  "Yes…" said Bingley uncertainly, wondering why this topic had come up now.

  "I was wrong," said Darcy.

  "But how do you know this?" exclaimed Bingley.

  "She is here," said Darcy.

  "At Pemberley?" said Bingley, looking confused.

  "In Derbyshire," said Darcy. "She's coming to Pemberley for lunch."

  "Well, that's wonderful!" said Bingley, all eagerness. "But how did you discover your error?"

  Now this was the tricky part, thought Darcy. He needed to prepare Bingley for a potentially bad reaction on Miss Bennet's part. "Miss Elizabeth told me. Apparently her sister was quite upset after you left."

  "What?" said Bingley, paling and collapsing back into the nearest chair. "I thought she liked me, but Caroline convinced me I was being vain! Do you mean she's been pining away in Hertfordshire all this time? Lord! She probably thinks I'm a cad!"

  "Bingley, it's a little worse than that," said Darcy and then instantly regretted his choice of words.

  "How can it possibly be worse?" sputtered Bingley.

  "She tried to visit you in London," confessed Darcy.

  "What!" exclaimed Bingley. "How is it that I know nothing of this?"

  "She believes you went to Vienna."

  "Vienna?" asked Bingley. "What on earth would I be doing in Vienna?"

  "There seems to have been some miscommunication," said Darcy lamely.

  Bingley looked very confused, then he brightened.

  "So she likes me after all?" he asked tentatively.

  "Apparently, yes. I was talking to Miss Elizabeth…"

  "And they're coming to lunch?"

  "We're having a picnic."

  "Well, I must make myself presentable!"

  "Mrs Reynolds has the green room ready for you," said Darcy, relieved that he had got off so easy.

  Half an hour later, when the ladies entered the saloon, Bingley was ready. There were effusions from himself, blushes from Jane Bennet, and nine months of heartache on her part suddenly evaporated.

  Mrs Gardiner watched in some amazement, wondering at the gentleman's sincerity.

  After Mrs Reynolds entered and announced the picnic was ready on the lawn, Darcy offered Mrs Gardiner and Miss Elizabeth his arms. They descended to a picturesque site near the lake where they found the colonel and Mr Gardiner discussing Wellington's campaign in the Peninsula while Georgiana ordered footmen about.

  The repast that had been set out on some rugs was truly magnificent and had been augmented by two trout caught by Mr Gardiner. While the number of fish was small, their freshness could not be denied. Mr Gardiner complained that Derbyshire fish were far too cunning.

  "That," said Richard, "is why Mr Walton had to write a book!"

  Following lunch, Mr Darcy suggested they make a circuit of the lake. The Gardiners demurred, citing a wish to relax. After the others went off, Mr Gardiner fell asleep with his head in his wife's lap. She was content to watch the young people in the distance, wondering about the two gentlemen who seemed very interested in her nieces.

  Elizabeth set off at her usual jaunty pace with Mr Darcy following close behind. Georgiana, who had dawdled with the colonel to feed the ducks, offered some bread to Jane and Mr Bingley.

  As the gap between Elizabeth and the rest of the party widened, Darcy saw his chance.

  "Miss Elizabeth, please accept my humblest apologies for my outrageous behaviour at Rosings. There is nothing in my life I regret more. I have the deepest admiration and respect for you, but I let my ardour get the better of me. You let me kiss you at Hunsford. Tell me there is hope."

  "Perhaps we both let our ardour get the better of us, Mr Darcy," she replied.

  Darcy fought back a wave of desire as he remembered the way she had melted in his arms.

  "But," Elizabeth continued, "I think your actions constituted something more than being carried away by the moment. The offer you made was based on the belief of my inferiority to yourself. Now that I have visited your home, I understand the basis of your arrogance. But I cannot accept it. Should I ever choose to marry, I could not accept a partner who thought me beneath him. I am a gentleman's daughter. Your riches mean nothing to me. I have no need of them. I merely wish to be comfortable."

  Darcy searched her face. "I accept your reproof and realise now that my own position has been one of hypocrisy, particularly in the light of the behaviour of some of my own relatives. Your younger sisters may lack decorum, but you and your sister Jane are above reproach."

  Lizzy bristled at this new accusation. Who was he to poke a stick at her relatives?

  "Oh, really? Lack decorum? That is mild. I believe the term 'hoyden' was employed."

  Darcy's mind flashed back to his unfortunate encounter with Lydia and Wickham at the Netherfield Ball.

  Certainly he had thought it, but he had not said it…

  "I do not believe I have ever described your sister in those terms to anyone, Miss Elizabeth, on my honour!"

  "I was not talking of my sister, Mr Darcy, but of myself. I came to Netherfield to nurse my sister; …walke
d three miles over muddy ground to do so, and you slandered me to the Bingley sisters as the veriest hoyden."

  Darcy staggered; his memory was too good to have forgotten the incident. But it seemed such a world away, another lifetime… How could he have ever had such thoughts of her? And to think she had overheard! He was filled with shame.

  "I…," he said, wanting to apologise, but unable to frame the words. A million apologies rushed into his head; all clamouring for his attention.

  "Do not bother, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth said, turning her head away and trying to get her anger under control. "It matters not."

  They walked on in uncomfortable silence, each of them deep in thought.

  "Mr Darcy, for reasons I do not understand, I find myself strangely attracted to you."

  A small flicker of hope stirred in Darcy's breast.

  "If you had offered marriage to me at Hunsford," continued Elizabeth, "I might have accepted, merely because I had not thought about it carefully. But plenty of time has passed to allow me to know my own mind. I am not interested in fashion or glittering balls in London. We would not suit."

  Darcy could now see he had gone about fixing his interest with Miss Elizabeth in entirely the wrong way from start to finish. He didn't care for fashion or glittering balls either, but she didn't know that. Although his thoughts had now taken a more proper direction, instead of courting her, he had rushed the fence, and come a cropper on the other side. He dared not try to remind her of the precarious situation of her family. He had played that card at Hunsford. He knew not what to say. There seemed to be an embargo on every subject.

  Lizzy had taken her bonnet off and was now swinging it by the ribbons in much the same way an angry cat flicks its tail. A dragonfly buzzed past.

  "I had hoped to do something useful with my life," she said plaintively.

  Darcy felt a lump form in his throat. The implication was that he was a useless fop. He knew the direction of her thoughts.

  "With Dr Gregory?" he asked.

  "Indeed, I enjoyed my time working in the infirmary with him. However, my hopes are quite cut up there. It was considered inappropriate for me to continue to assist him: he was pressured into letting me go. I have been helping Mr Jones prepare medicines since my return from Kent. At least it is useful work, but I much preferred working directly with people. Oh, if only I were a man and could go to the medical school in Edinburgh myself!"