Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Chapter 7
Posted on Tuesday, 3 June 2008
Saturday morning dawned clear and still, the silence broken only by the rhythmic beating of hooves upon the earth, which was suddenly interrupted by the rustle of upset leaves. Startled by the contact of passing branches, Mr. Darcy straightened his upset hat, cursing himself for allowing his thoughts to be entrapped in reminiscence of the previous evening. Forcing Elizabeth’s enchanting image from his mind, he ruefully thanked his horse for staying to the familiar path, despite the lack of guidance from so inattentive a rider. He reminded himself of his purpose for riding into town, and thought of the note he anticipated in response to his opinion of Sense and Sensibility. Elizabeth had refused to discuss books in a ballroom, and most likely had yet to read– stop thinking of her! With a flick of his heel, he urged his mount into a gallop and with a determined expression, focused on the route ahead.
The bookshop appeared to be empty upon his arrival, muffled voices and occasional shuffling sounds indicating that Mr. Awdry and his nephew were working in the back room. Pleased with the opportunity to avoid their notice, Mr. Darcy quickly removed the expected missive and escaped undetected.
Now that his more pleasurable errand had been completed, Mr. Darcy rode determinedly to speak with Colonel Forster. He loathed the necessity of revealing his history with Mr. Wickham, experiencing it had been sufficient exposure to the scoundrel, much less reliving it through discussion with a stranger. However he could not shake the conviction that irreparable damage would come if he did not expose Mr. Wickham in at least some way. If his duty to the common good of the people of Meryton was not motivation enough, his closest friend was now tied to the neighborhood’s most prominent family.
Mr. Darcy entered the house taken by Colonel Forster and his wife, and was led to meet with the Colonel in his study.
“I must say, Mr. Darcy, I am surprised that you would desire to speak with me.”
Mr. Darcy resisted the urge to groan at this statement. He had heard this opinion voiced all too frequently as of late. He had always thought his silence and reserve left him open to far less ridicule than men with looser tongues, but perhaps the opposite was true.
“My honor as a gentleman requires that I reveal to you my history with one of your lieutenants. It is incumbent that I advise you of the inherent liabilities his connection brings to your regiment…”
Mr. Darcy rode hard across the countryside; he could not forget the details of his conversation with Colonel Forster faster enough. Nothing had been said of his most personal dealings with Mr. Wickham, yet simply listing the dissolute habits of his father’s godson was never a pleasant experience. Mr. Wickham was a thorn in his side; and no less so at present than in his boyhood days. After the wretched affair in Ramsgate, he had thought himself finally rid of the man’s plaguing existence, but now wished he had followed Colonel Fitzwilliam’s advice and shipped the miscreant to the West Indies on the first available boat. Eventually his anger cooled, and with a sigh he reigned in his mount, allowing the horse to move leisurely towards a stream along the border of Netherfield Park. Jumping down from the saddle, he led his horse to the water and sat along the bank, reaching to his pocket for the pleasant distraction he surely needed.
Though I cannot agree with your statements, and might offer many sound rebuttals to your cynical view, I shall instead address a much more pressing concern. I must say that without some credible explanation, I will be forced to completely rethink my concept of your character, given that you are far too familiar with silly romance novels typically read to fulfill the romantic daydreams of young ladies. What say you sir, has heartbreak led you to heal your wounds and renew your hope in such a fashion?
Mr. Darcy laughed softly as he folded up the teasing note he should have seen coming. While he had expected a heated rebuttal to his opinion, as he had received from his sister, he was not disappointed. She had clearly indicated herself to be capable of such, yet the witty repartee she had chosen in its stead was quite enjoyable. The few sentences she committed to paper had lightened his mood, and he was compelled to attempt an equally playful response.
Saturday also brought the scheduled departure of Mr. Collins, an event which could not come soon enough for all members of the Bennet family, save one. From the very day of his arrival, Mrs. Bennet had considered Elizabeth destined to wed her cousin, and she was rather vexed to see him leave before the event took place. Mrs. Bennet had pressed her husband daily to assure Mr. Collins of their good will towards the match, but to no avail. Mr. Bennet was not desirous of a confrontation regarding that gentleman’s intentions towards his favorite daughter, and as an invitation to return to Longbourn would not be issued, Mr. Bennet assumed the matter would settle itself. The length of time that would be necessary for his cousin’s aspirations to dissipate he knew not, but as Mr. Collins would be passing the required time in Kent, he did not overly concern himself. So it was that Mr. Collins prepared to leave Hertfordshire, still under the delusion that he was engaged to Elizabeth Bennet.
Mrs. Bennet contrived a moment alone between Mr. Collins and his presumed fiancée, requesting that Elizabeth provide her company while he oversaw the loading of his trunks. The two went into the hall for their wraps, and as Mr. Collins handed Elizabeth her coat, he also slipped a small letter into her hands. For a moment, her skin crawled, and she was horrified that he may be the nameless man with whom she had been exchanging notes. She dismissed the idea as ridiculous, but paled as she realized the dilemma brought upon her by the letter in her hand. Mr. Collins was now exiting the house, and she immediately followed him, forcefully holding out the letter in his direction.
“Mr. Collins, you know very well I cannot accept a letter from you.” she said through tight lips.
Mr. Collins smiled at her affectionately, causing her to pale even further, “Of course, my dear cousin, you are concerned that we have yet to formalize our engagement, and I am certain her Ladyship will admire your sense of propriety. No one has observed our exchange, and given the long separation we are about to endure, I am sure your amiable parents would be understanding if you chose to show them my missive. I am glad you have accepted my token of affection and will say no more on the subject if such a course would be pleasing to your delicate sensibilities.”
Before Elizabeth was given any further chance to object and insist he take back the letter, the rest of her family emerged from the house to bid their cousin farewell. Fearful of her mother seeing the letter, she reluctantly placed the distasteful paper in her pocket.
Finally Mr. Collins’ equipage disappeared down the drive, and the family returned to the house, Elizabeth lingering outside. She was disgusted to have something from Mr. Collins so close to her person. She felt it would be most suitable to feed his note to the pigs, but out of morbid curiosity, walked to a private section of the garden to open it. After reading the first few lines, she found many of his phrases to be the same ridiculous flattery he had spouted during his stay. Not wishing to devote another moment to his misplaced affections, she balled the letter in her hand before entering the house and threw it into the nearest fire without any further examination.
With the absence of Mr. Collins, life at Longbourn took a joyful turn. The Christmas season was approaching with all of its festivities, and Mrs. Bennet engrossed herself in Jane’s wedding plans and engagement celebrations. The family attended church, and Mrs. Bennet smiled proudly as the first of the banns were read. Certainly all of Meryton had already been supplied with her good information, but she reveled in the opportunity to lord her good fortune over her neighbors. At the close of the service, Mr. Bingley was soon to be found at Miss Bennet’s side, and the two gracefully accepted the well wishes of their friends and neighbors. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst received acknowledgement of the brother’s good fortune as insincerely as would be expected, while Mr. Darcy stood off to the side responding with no more than a curt nod when directly addressed. Miss Elizabeth could not but look upon the glowering party with contempt, and would have continued to do so, if not for her desire to avoid Mr. Darcy’s stare. She instead cast her eyes upon her serenely happy sister and a cheerful Mr. Bingley. A long string of invitations for parties in honor of Jane’s engagement could be overheard, promising a very festive Christmas season indeed.
The next morning, Mr. Darcy deposited another note into its hiding place with an amused smile struggling to break free from his lips. After having spent the better part of Sunday afternoon mulling over his choice of words, the phrases he eventually committed to paper were playful, and reflected a side of him rarely seen since his boyhood days. Many of his closer acquaintance and relations would describe him in a more amiable light than he was viewed in Hertfordshire, but few would describe him as lively or exuberant. He had always endeavored to show strength of character through his seriousness, but the anonymity of this correspondence gave him a welcome opportunity to lower his guard. Mr. Darcy mounted his horse after leaving the bookshop, and was assaulted by the boisterous voices emanating from a carriage driving through the village. With no great amount of surprise, he recognized the Bennet carriage and immediately deduced the occupants to be Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters. Though he was unable to distinguish the exact words being spoken, he cared not, and rode in the opposite direction before he might be recognized and called into a frightfully taxing conversation.
“Mr. Bennet! You will not believe the news we have heard from my sister Philips. Why it is all that is being discussed in Meryton!”
Mr. Bennet sighed as he resignedly folded his newspaper and looked at his wife. “I assume you would like to share with me this riveting bit of gossip that has overshadowed even the importance of Jane’s engagement in the eyes of the good people of Meryton.”
“More important than Jane’s engagement? What nonsense!” Mrs. Bennet paused and stared at her husband dramatically before sharing her news. “It seems Mr. Wickham has left the regiment, and so suddenly that he had not even the opportunity to bid a proper farewell to his general acquaintance. No one seems to know why he left, but we have heard it from Mrs. Forster herself that he is definitely not expected to return.”
Mr. Bennet presumed his reason for leaving would no longer be a mystery once the sordid details of his time spent in the area were revealed. He wondered if perhaps Mr. Darcy had troubled himself to speak with the commanding officer of the regiment, which pleased him greatly, as it would save him the trouble of barring the man from his home.
“I think it dreadfully inconvenient that he left before Christmas. Oh how I wished to dance with him at the all the balls and parties! It is wickedly unfair that he has been sent away!” cried Lydia.
“There, there, Lydia.” Mrs. Bennet patted her daughter’s arm consolingly, “I am sure there shall be plenty of other officers for you to dance with, and besides, with Jane’s connection to Mr. Bingley, surely you can do much better for yourself. I daresay the only officer who might have been worthy of you was Colonel Forster, if he had not found that wife of his. Yes, he would have been much better off with you!”
“Oh mama, as if I could care for so droll a man as Colonel Forster! I had such hopes that I might catch Mr. Wickham. He would make such a fine and dashing husband, and to think we might have even married before Jane! I am sure he shall miss me dreadfully, wherever he has gone.”
“And I!” cried Kitty, “I am sure he shall miss me just as much as you!”
“Oh Kitty, what do you care of Mr. Wickham?” cried Mrs. Bennet. “You would do better to apply yourself to Mr. Darcy! Why if only you would show more interest in him to Mr. Bingley, he would surely bring Mr. Darcy along when he visits Jane. You must be certain to ask after him directly when Mr. Bingley calls this afternoon. Now that I think on it, he may even bring Mr. Darcy along with him as he did last week, and we cannot allow the opportunity to go to waste. Now go upstairs and put on your green muslin.”
“Oh Mr. Bennet, what a fine thing for our girls! First Jane shall marry Mr. Bingley, and if Kitty would only exert herself, she may have a chance at Mr. Darcy. He is a cold, silent sort of gentleman, and there is Miss Bingley to consider, but even if she should not catch him, think of all the other young men that she will meet at the wedding!”
“Yes Mrs. Bennet, I am sure there are plenty of young gentlemen of great fortune and little sense among Mr. Bingley’s acquaintance who would like nothing better than a silly young wife of little means or importance, and who better than our girls. Yes I daresay they will be lurking in the hedgerows, hoping for an introduction.”
The first winter storm began in the early afternoon and continued through the night, bringing with it a bitter wind and a light snow. After enjoying another morning free of Mr. Collins’ attentions, Elizabeth donned her winter coat, informing her father that she would spend her afternoon enjoying the beauties provided by the snow that had fallen overnight. He smiled knowingly and gave her an errand in the village. Elizabeth left the house and dutifully selected a path that wandered through the woods towards Meryton.
In the bookshop, Elizabeth purchased the newspapers her father had requested and waited until Mr. Awdry was distracted by another patron before opening a certain novel and tucking its unbound contents into her package. After delivering the requested items to her father, Elizabeth went up to her room and anxiously read the following.
December 9, 18__You wound me madam! By this description you would have me as a simpering dandy with said novel preciously tucked into the pocket at my breast. I assure you that such is not the man behind this pen. Is it too much to imagine that I may know a young lady who professed her enjoyment of this work such so energetically that I read it to appease her?
Elizabeth laughed aloud, imagining a peculiar little man with a plume in his cap, expounding his distress over Marianne’s illness. She was startled from her merriment by a sharp knock at her door, and before she could compose herself or hide the note, her father appeared in the doorway.
“I had come to assure myself that my errand was not too taxing on you, as you retired to your room immediately upon your return, but I am glad to see the exercise has not kept you from your usual good spirits.”
Spotting the note in her hands, Mr. Bennet’s tone took on a bit of seriousness. “Now Lizzy, I have never been one to press your confidence, but you have always given it freely, and my curiosity has grown such that it is now getting the better of me. Would you care to share with me the truth behind your frequent visits to Mr. Awdry’s establishment?”
“Oh Papa, I fear you will be very angry with me. Please do not imagine what I relate to be indicative of anything untoward, it has really been a simple form of amusement, through rather unconventional means.”
“Your explanation thus far seems to create more questions than it answers. I suggest you answer me a bit more directly. I would prefer not to drag you down to Mr. Awdry for an explanation as I did when you were ten years of age and arrived home with your new coat used as a satchel, full of cookies pilfered from the village bakery.”
Elizabeth sighed, and seeing no means of escape, proceeded to explain the events that led her so frequently to the bookshop. It was rather fortunate that her impulsiveness and sense of humor were reminiscent of her father’s, as he was much more amenable to such actions simply for amusement than her mother would be. Mr. Bennet laughed and advised Elizabeth that while he prided himself in having a daughter able to best any gentleman in the neighborhood with her wit, she ought proceed with caution, as any note that fell into the hands of her mother would definitely lead to a forced marriage to Mrs. Long’s widowed brother, or whoever else the poor man might be. However the young lady may turn out to be the gentleman’s wife, in which case she would subject to her mother’s ire, as surely having such actions revealed would drive away Mr. Collins and leave them all ruined. Considering his daughter thoroughly teased on the subject, Mr. Bennet gave Elizabeth a smile to assure her of his good humor, and left the room.
Elizabeth was relieved to have once again benefited from her father’s lenient parenting, and acknowledged the truth of his warning that she be cautious. She could not help but wonder about the identity of the young lady her writing companion had mentioned. For a moment she felt something akin to jealousy before chiding herself that she had no idea of the man’s identity. Just as her father had teased, he could very well be a stuffy old man of fifty years, and the young lady could then easily be his wife or daughter. A small part of her insisted that he must be an eligible young man, considering the tone and manner of address in his letters. While she might like to believe he was a handsome young man, her rationale insisted that this was only wishful thinking.
Mr. Bennet returned to his library. Only his Lizzy would dig up a scrap of paper amongst the dusty old books of Mr. Awdry’s back shelves and use it as a channel for merciless teasing. He wondered if perhaps he should not allow such a breach of propriety to continue, yet considering the storms of complaint and rebellion that accompanied such attempts to control his wife and daughters, he decided not to raise the ire of his favorite that he may at least have peace with one member of the family when Jane moved to Netherfield.
Chapter 8
The following day brought the official invitation for the much anticipated Yuletide Ball at Lucas Lodge. In previous years, the Yuletide Ball had been the event of the annum, and once discussion of the Netherfield Ball had died down, it had been the central topic of conversation over tea for ladies between twelve and sixty.
“Oh girls! There is so much to do! Thank goodness Mr. Bingley has anticipated us and will kindly bring his carriage to escort us into the village. Now we shall all get new gowns for the Lucas’ ball, after all it is being given for Jane.”
Elizabeth whispered to Jane that the ball was rumored to be in honor of the season, but they best not remind their mother as of so gross a falsehood.
Mr. Bingley arrived as promised, riding alongside his carriage to take the ladies of the house into Meryton. Mrs. Bennet, Kitty and Lydia would not be satisfied until they had scoured through every good in the milliner’s shop, while Jane and Elizabeth spent a few moments making their selections before returning to Mr. Bingley. The gentleman suggested they walk to the bakery, and seeing the eager twinkle in his eye as he expressed his desire for some holiday sweets, the ladies smiled and readily agreed. As they basked in the delightful scent of snickerdoodles and gingerbread cookies, Elizabeth excused herself to make a quick detour into the bookshop while Mr. Bingley made his selections.
The following morning, Mr. Darcy awoke with a smile, and left the house in eager anticipation. He had settled into a routine of knowing when to expect a note, and was astonished by how keenly he looked forward to reading her words. He found it difficult to comprehend the manner in which she had inspired him to expose himself and tease in such a light-hearted fashion. He had never have thought himself capable of finding amusement at his own expense, and was anxious to her response.
You would do well to learn, sir, not to make an open invitation for mockery if you are not thoroughly prepared to receive it. As to your defense, I would prefer the term sentimental ninny to simpering dandy, but I am glad to know that you are neither. I hope this “young lady” under your influence is encouraged towards reading on more serious topics as well.
Mr. Darcy chuckled as read the first portion of the note, impressed by her ability to invent an appellation even worse than he had. He also appreciated her comment towards his sister’s reading habits. Though extensive reading was not generally an esteemable pastime for accomplished young ladies, he had in fact greatly encouraged her to become familiar with as many of the books in his library as possible. He had also never heard a lady express an opinion on his care over Georgiana except to praise him. That this woman would be bold enough to offer constructive criticism was quite refreshing. He released a contented sigh as he urged his horse on towards Netherfield, already plotting the words he would leave in response, knowing the following day’s activities would include another visit to Mr. Awdry’s establishment.
Two days later, the weather proved rather cold, and reluctantly Elizabeth stayed indoors during the morning hours. Mr. Bingley had admitted the previous day that it would behoove him to spend some time going over estate matters with Mr. Darcy, and was not expected until dinner. Jane and Elizabeth had escaped their mother’s constant prattle regarding wedding clothes and were preparing the last bundles of winter foliage and herbs to be dried. Mrs. Hill entered, informing Elizabeth that Mr. Bennet had requested her presence in the library at her earliest convenience. With a smile to Jane, Elizabeth tied off a bundle of rosemary and headed towards the library, assuming her father desired her company to read together or to play a game of chess.
“Lizzy, my dear, you should be glad to know that although you have yet to make her acquaintance, you have been fortunate enough to receive the approval of Lady Catherine deBourgh.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled, and showed a long letter from Mr. Collins to his confused daughter.
“I will spare you the details of his raptures, but I must tell you it was rather comical to read his explanation of how great lady was at first rather put out to hear that you were a witty, lively sort of girl, and was greatly mollified when he explained how your respect for her station would be sure to quiet you, and you would gladly consult her advice on improving your comportment. I can just imagine your response to such condescension would be quite the opposite, and there is a conversation I would like to witness, it if did not require my giving you away to such a ridiculous man.”
Mr. Bennet looked upon his daughters face, and seeing little amusement, but a great deal of unease, he came to the point and held up an additional letter, seal unbroken.
“Mr. Collins has also enclosed a letter which he implores me to pass on to his “fiancée”, but as we both know that such a woman does not reside in this house, I will not trouble you with it.” Mr. Bennet gave Elizabeth a comforting smile and tossed the letter into the fire.
“Now, on to a more pleasant topic. With the Christmas season approaching, I do have some shopping to do, and I am sure this cold weather has kept you from leaving the house this morning.” Mr. Bennet gave his daughter a knowing look, indicating himself to be perfectly aware of why being kept indoors on this particular day was more distressing than would normally be expected. “Let me call the carriage and what say you join me on a ride into Meryton? Perhaps you will find a gift for your dear old father in the bookshop while I brave the shelves of ladies’ frippery for your mother.”
Elizabeth was indeed successful in finding a gift for her father, as well as some sheet music for Mary. Her father teased that she must be exchanging quite extensive letters if she required two packages for their conveyance to Longbourn. Elizabeth sighed and lifted the top parcel, revealing a small white sheet that had been tucked between the packages. Before he was able to inquire further, she teased her father in turn, noting that he had survived the perils of shopping for her mother tolerably well. Mr. Bennet replied that he had indeed found something suitable, and perhaps if he were quite lucky, she would declare it to be a splendid surprise and be cured of her nerves for a fortnight at least.
Upon their return to Longbourn, Elizabeth excused herself to deposit the gifts she had purchased into her room. She removed the small sheet of paper she had hidden and read the following:
December 13, 18__The “young lady” is my sister, and while I would not wish her to adopt reading habits as dull and stuffy as mine, I have encouraged her to read many classics. She has not my penchant for reading, preferring to spend her time painting or practicing at the pianoforte, but her talents in these areas lead me to believe that her time is well spent.
Elizabeth had apparently reached the limit of his ability to reply with a witty rejoinder, which was just as well as she could carry on forever in such a way. She was immediately impressed by the obvious devotion this man had towards his sister. Though she had no brother to whom she could compare, she had never seen such a bond between siblings of the opposite sex amongst her acquaintance. Young boys and girls were raised so differently, and once childhood playmates were taught to become genteel young ladies and dutiful young gentlemen, brothers seemed to become more protective than affectionate. She saw that this man spoke highly of her talents, and hoped the young lady was not stifled under the pursuit of being an accomplished woman. Not one to keep an opinion to herself, Elizabeth resolved to enquire further.
Once again, Elizabeth prepared to depart from Longbourn and tuck a note between the pages of a once inconsequential book. As she passed the open door to the library, she was about to notify her father that she would be out for a walk when he motioned for her to approach him.
“Off with another letter for Mrs. Long’s brother, eh? I had thought you would abandon the idea once you discovered him to be an old widower, but then you may prefer being a stepmother to his girls, as they are far less silly than your sisters.”
“Papa, you should not tease so! I have it on good authority that one of my sisters is a veritable angel! Besides, you know me well enough to suspect that I possess the intellect to discreetly inquire about the lady and question, and you may care to know that she is his sister.”
“Aha! Well then, I humbly retract my previous statement, and wish you all the luck with young John Lucas. I am sure one day the neighborhood will forget that you are more than a twelve-month his senior!”
Elizabeth smiled and rolled her eyes in mock-frustration. Mr. Bennet waved his daughter off, so as not to further delay her from her walk, as she had called it. Retrieving his newspaper, he found difficulty focusing on its printed words as his mind tallied the number of young men in the neighborhood with sisters, and found the spectrum of possible identities rather slim indeed.
The next day was rather pleasant for December. Though still a bit cool in light of the season, it was at least dry. Thus Mr. Darcy found himself perched atop his horse, paused in a grove he had first found weeks before, with a similar note unfolded in his hands.
By your description, she is all that is accomplished. I have once heard it described that in addition to the talents your sister has already developed, a woman must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions to be deemed truly accomplished. For your sake, I hope she is all that is open and artless, allowing her natural talent and pleasant qualities to speak for themselves, a display which is certain to terrify persons of high society.
Mr. Darcy felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he read an exact quotation of Miss Bingley’s haughty turn of phrase. He paled and forced himself to acknowledge what was now painfully clear. It was her – Elizabeth. He had been foolish enough to believe he was corresponding with some mysterious well-bred woman, but deep down he should have known. He had rallied himself so completely against Elizabeth, such that he did not see the obvious fact that of any woman in the neighborhood, it would be her. He had instead used thoughts of this enigmatic woman to support the notion that Miss Elizabeth was not as special as his heart wished her to be. He had been desperate to believe there were witty and intelligent women in his sphere, and he had yet to meet them because he simply had not applied himself to seeking them out. His carefully erected defense had all gone to rot. Elizabeth was unique, and he found himself wanting her even more.
Mr. Darcy forced the letter back into his pocket and galloped towards Netherfield in a foul mood. He chastised himself for his foolishness, questioning how he had let such lovesick delusions lead him to that wretched bookshop nearly every day for the past fortnight. If only he had had the sense to leave immediately after the Netherfield ball, perhaps he would have been able to keep his infatuation in check. Before long, his sagacity finally overcame his ire, and he slowed his horse as he considered the situation before him. As reality continued to wash away the haze the last weeks had created, he realized the alarming degree of danger in which his actions had placed him. They had not seemed problematic at the time, but the notes he had left were concrete evidence of the impropriety he had committed. If the notes were ever revealed to another party, and if she were able to deduce his identity, surely Mr. Bennet would demand that he marry her. As much as he wished to return to Pemberley and leave the events of the last months to be forgotten, he would have to proceed with caution. He would find a way to continue their correspondence into the new year before breaking it. He could not take the risk inherent in timing his departure with the end of their exchanges.
He consoled himself in the knowledge that she may not yet be aware of his identity, and he desperately hoped she was not. He would require an opportunity to speak to her and gauge her reaction to him. Though he detested the activity, he admitted dancing with her at the upcoming ball would be the best way of obtaining a private conversation without attracting attention. After all, propriety required that he also dance with Miss Bennet in light of her recent engagement to his close friend. Perhaps if he timed these dances well, he would be able to avoid obliging Miss Bingley with a set. Most difficult of all, he reminded himself, he would need to leave another note, and without any indication that her words had impacted him so profoundly.
Longbourn was a flurry of activity in preparation for the ball. Her mother did not object when Elizabeth insisted her ensemble was well prepared as Mr. Collins was not expected to return for the event. However this complaisance regarding her own wardrobe simply reflected her mother’s opinion that she should make herself available to aid her sisters. So it was that she had nearly given up hope of reaching the bookshop on the appropriate day, and was relieved to escape and retrieve the following missive.
December 18, 18__Though I would consider my sister to be quite accomplished, she is rather too shy to be open amongst any but her closest acquaintance. I would consider artlessness to be a positive attribute, and though this trait is not common in higher circles, I am no less inclined to appreciate it.
Elizabeth was glad to know he would never esteem the practiced airs of women such as Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. She did not look forward to meeting with them the next evening at the Lucas’ Ball, and hoped they would not be too unkind in their treatment of Jane. However they were Jane’s future sisters, and she could not remain ignorant of their true natures for long.
Elizabeth awoke before dawn on the day of the Yuletide Ball, and left the house just as the first rays of sun glowed behind the distant hills, lest she be kept from her errand by her mother. Mrs. Bennet had insisted the previous evening that all of the girls retire early, that their complexions would be fresh and vibrant for the evening’s festivities, and she would hardly be amenable to Elizabeth exerting herself on this occasion. Fortunately, she arrived home just as Mrs. Bennet’s first calls were heard from above stairs, and was able to sneak into the kitchen for refreshment. She rested easily, knowing that her errand had been accomplished, and could not but wonder if her innominate correspondent might be in attendance at the ball.
Chapter 9
Posted on Sunday, 8 June 2008
The evening of the Yuletide Ball finally arrived, much to the excitement of the people of Meryton. Mr. Bingley had ordered his carriage to be readied early, that he might first travel to Longbourn to convey his fiancée and her family in his own larger equipage. Thus Mr. Darcy was left to escort the Hursts and Miss Bingley is his own carriage, and reunited with his friend at the ball. As Mr. Darcy entered Lucas Lodge, with the unfortunate necessity of offering his arm to Miss Bingley, he observed the scene with distaste equal to that which he felt at each previous gathering. The general company showed the lack of fashion and want of decorum he had come to expect from his social inferiors. He observed Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet joining the first set of the evening, and wondered how his friend could feel at ease in such ill-mannered company. Yet there was nothing to be done for it, and knowing this was the last time he would be subjected to such company, he sighed and set about accomplishing the task at hand. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had been trapped into conversation with some of the local matrons, and Mr. Darcy took the opportunity to excuse himself, approaching Mr. Bingley as he led Miss Bennet from the dance.
“Bingley, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy bowed as he greeted the couple, “As this is the first public event in honor of your engagement, allow me to again offer my congratulations.”
“No need for formalities, old man,” Mr. Bingley laughed, “I know you have long recognized Jane for the angel that she is.”
Mr. Darcy gave a slight nod to Bingley and turned to Miss Bennet as she thanked him politely.
“Miss Bennet, would you allow me to deprive your fiancé of your company by dancing the next with me?”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.”
Upon her positive reply, Mr. Darcy offered his arm to escort Miss Bennet to the floor, leaving a shocked Elizabeth in their wake.
“I see you are surprised by Mr. Darcy’s inviting your sister to dance, Miss Elizabeth, but he is ever conscious of paying respect where it is due, and he is a very loyal friend.” Mr. Bingley smiled and indicated towards the dancing area as he extended his hand. “Would you do me the honor?”
“Why yes, Mr. Bingley. Propriety calls for nothing less, and our dancing now will keep you from the necessity of giving up a later dance with our dear Jane.” Elizabeth returned Mr. Bingley’s smile, belying the sterile nature of her words.
Mr. Bingley was quick to reunite with Jane after her dance with Mr. Darcy, and offered to bring her refreshment. Mr. Darcy joined him without a word, and upon their return, Bingley offered a glass of punch to Jane, as Darcy did the same for Elizabeth.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth struggled to keep a curious expression from her features as she reached to accept the refreshment she had not requested.
Elizabeth took a sip of punch before adding, “I see you have now filled your obligation to your friend.”
Mr. Darcy furrowed his brow at the twinge of bitterness in her tone, but before he could consider a response, his companion turned towards the excited approach of Mrs. Bennet and Miss Catherine.
“There you are Jane! Oh what a wonderful affair this has turned out to be, and all in the honor of yourself and Mr. Bingley.”
“Yes mama, we are all glad to gather together and celebrate the season with our friends and neighbors.”
Ignoring the majority of her daughter’s demure response, Mrs. Bennet turned an eager eye upon the eligible gentleman in the group, who then realized with horror that he was the primary reason for her approach. “Mr. Darcy sir, I noticed you dancing with Jane, how kind of you to compliment her thus.”
“It is expected that I honor the intended bride of so close a friend.”
“Why yes, being such a good friend as you are to Mr. Bingley, we shall all be nearly family once he is married to Jane. And gentlemanly as you are, I am sure you would enjoy giving a dance to one of his future sisters as well.” If Mr. Darcy had not deduced meaning of her words, Mrs. Bennet made all clear with a nod and pointed look towards Miss Catherine, before turning back to him expectantly.
Mr. Darcy cleared his throat, in futile attempt to break the matron’s gaze before replying. ”Indeed Mrs. Bennet, I was just about to ask Miss Elizabeth if she might dance the next with me.”
Turning to Elizabeth, he asked sedately, “Would you do me the honor?”
Not unconscious of the glare being sent her direction by her mother, but oblivious to any means of polite refusal, Elizabeth assented. Mr. Darcy offered his hand to escort her, and without another word, led her to their place in the next set.
Ever skillful at diffusing social tension, Mr. Bingley promptly addressed his future sister, “Miss Catherine, I would be delighted if you might dance the next with me.”
Mr. Bingley then escorted her to the floor as well, leaving Mrs. Bennet and her eldest daughter to each other’s company.
“Well Jane, can you believe the nerve of her!” Mrs. Bennet huffed. “First, Lizzy allows her fiancé to leave for Kent without so much as a formal announcement to the neighborhood, and now she is dancing with Mr. Darcy, who we all know finds her only tolerable. I dare say I cannot blame him, what with the impertinent remarks always flying from her mouth, but how is Kitty to catch his eye if Elizabeth wastes his time so?”
As the dance began, Elizabeth addressed Mr. Darcy.
“It seems I am to apologize for my mother’s behavior Mr. Darcy, as she goaded you into this dance.”
“Do not apologize for conduct that is not your own.”
The emotionless tone of his voice convinced Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy had spoken with more politeness than sincerity, and both continued the dance in silence.
Mr. Darcy was torn. His every sense was overwhelmed by the enchanting lady before him, yet he was determined to exhibit nothing but indifference for fear of revealing himself. His thoughts churned at an alarming rate, and he determined to break silence before he became lost in his musings.
“Do you have any particular plans for the holiday season?”
“Mr. Bingley has been kind enough to invite us to spend Christmas Day at Netherfield.”
“I see.”
Elizabeth huffed as the movement of the dance turned her away from Mr. Darcy, frustrated by his meager attempt at forwarding the conversation.
“And yourself, sir?”
“I shall be leaving shortly to spend the holiday with my sister.”
“Yes, it must be preferable to spend the season with your closest relative as opposed to insignificant strangers. I am sure she will be glad to have you arrive before Christmas.”
Elizabeth made no attempt to disguise the icy tone that flowed so naturally into her voice. Christmas was less than a se’en-night hence, and that his young sister was deprived of his company at such a time riled her. She thought of the devotion another gentleman felt towards his own sister, and was confident that he would never conduct himself in such a manner.
As their dance ended, Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth off the floor and silently walked away. She had little concern for where he might be headed and went to speak with Charlotte Lucas. Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening observing Jane’s glowing happiness, and scrutinizing the young men in attendance. Thankfully most were privy to her impertinent nature, and were not taken aback by her inquiries regarding their current reading habits, or their opinion of their sister’s accomplishments.
Mr. Darcy spent the remainder of the evening in his own company, slowly pacing the rooms. If his first dance with Elizabeth those few weeks ago at Netherfield had enchanted him, this evening’s set had rendered him breathless. Though he had told himself remained in Hertfordshire only for his intriguing correspondence, which he had used in aid to conquer his feelings for Elizabeth, he also had to admit that his heart relished in the pleasure he found in gazing at her, though bittersweet in light of the torment it brought to his mind, knowing he could never have any serious designs on her. To now know his inducement to remain was not two women, but one, overwhelmed him. He watched her laugh and tease, observing her playful manner from across the room, while overhearing the insipid conversation of the women around him, and reminded himself of what a fool he had been to think those precious notes could have been written by anyone else. He had lingered in Hertfordshire, oblivious to the tide rising around him, and was in grave danger of finding himself in over his head. He would have to leave immediately before he lost control and exposed his identity, as he could hardly hold a civil conversation with her, now that he knew. He had already planned to leave shortly to spend the holidays with Georgiana, but in light of the insignificant girl taking an increasing hold of every piece of his heart, he could not leave soon enough.
When Mr. Bingley and his guests finally returned to Netherfield Park, all were soon enveloped in slumber, save one. Within hours of the close of the ball, Mr. Darcy had sent an express rider to London, and written a note to Mr. Bingley, explaining his departure at first light, which was sure to take place before his missive would be received. He only hoped his express would arrive in time, else all would be for naught.
Chapter 10
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a rich man in possession of sufficient funds is wont to spend a portion of his income quite frivolously. As such, Mr. Darcy’s removal from Netherfield Park did not necessitate an end to his notes being placed in wait for a certain lady of the neighborhood. So it was that as the Darcy coach moved through Meryton, a stop was made in the village continuing on towards the high road to London. Mr. Darcy collected the expected letter, leaving in its place a small blue ribbon, taking care to leave the ribbon visible as it hung over the spine of Sterne’s book. He then re-entered his carriage, and after signaling the coachmen to drive on, opened the note.
It pleases me to know that you are not affronted by persons who do not practice the art of putting on airs, for I admit that is one skill in which I may be found severely lacking. I cannot hide my true opinions, and those who wish I might demure politely in favor of popular opinions will find themselves disappointed. But such is the life of us country savages. Perhaps if I had been educated in town, my comportment might be more socially acceptable, yet my partiality for the country forbids me from wishing it had been so.
He smiled wistfully, and began to think of his reply, having already planned to write his response while his horses were changed at the next posting inn. If his express had reached London as planned, Thompson would be waiting there to collect his letter, letting a ribbon of sapphire hue be his guide for its placement.
December 21, 18__Bingley,
As you read this missive, you are likely aware of my departure this morning. I ask that you forgive the impropriety of my quitting your hospitality without a proper farewell. Rest assured all is well, and please accept my fondest wishes for your holiday season.
Yours etc,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Mr. Bingley sat confused, wondering at the odd note as he set it down on the table before him. He had rung for his valet after finally willing himself from his bed and its pleasant dreams of dancing with his beloved Jane. He was surprised to see Hawkins enter his dressing room bearing a note addressed to him in Mr. Darcy’s familiar hand. He had hoped to speak with Mr. Darcy regarding the events of the previous evening. No sooner had he been relieved to see his friend loosen his reserve, dancing with Jane, and then Elizabeth, than he saw Mr. Darcy’s countenance harden as he kept to the perimeter of the room, silent and taciturn as he had been at their first assembly in Meryton. He first concluded that Mr. Darcy must have had business to attend, or been anxious to begin his holiday with Georgiana, yet neither warranted so hasty a departure with so little explanation. Not one to worry excessively, he resolved to speak of the matter with Jane to gain her opinion, as he had promised himself for luncheon at Longbourn.
Over luncheon, Mrs. Bennet enquired after Mr. Darcy’s absence, and expressed her hope that he was not unwell, as she had been unable to locate him the latter half of the ball last evening.
“I believe he was quite well last evening, he simply has never welcomed large gatherings as eagerly as myself.”
“I see. Well he is most welcome to join you more frequently when you come to call, Mr. Bingley, as we are certainly no large party here.”
“Actually ma’am, he left quite early this morning, and is most likely en route to Pemberley to celebrate the season.”
“Indeed! We are so sorry to see him go. I had thought he would remain at Netherfield and celebrate with us. He had not the opportunity to stand up with Kitty at the ball, which I am certain he would have found pleasurable.”
Though none of the other occupants of the room appeared to notice, Jane observed her fiancé’s unease with regard to the discussion of Mr. Darcy. She was not taken by surprise when, after the meal, he requested she accompany him out into the gardens, and readily assented.
As the engaged couple left the room, the rest of the family retired to the drawing room where Mrs. Bennet openly lamented the loss of Mr. Darcy. Reluctant she may have been to abuse his closest friend in Mr. Bingley’s presence; she had no such scruples towards doing so in his absence.
“Oh it vexes me greatly, Mr. Bennet, to think of what we shall be deprived by Mr. Darcy’s absence.”
“Yes, my dear, I am certain we all feel greatly the loss of his company. Perhaps if you had considered my advice in the fall that he may not have been such a villain as the neighborhood assumed, you might be arranging two wedding breakfasts.”
Mr. Bennet spoke sarcastically, reluctant to admit that he did regret the gentleman’s departure, as it left the neighborhood containing one less person of any sense. As the remaining young gentleman had now left the room, Mr. Bennet excused himself to the comfort of his library. He had observed Mr. Darcy’s countenance at the ball, and was not surprised to hear that he had quit the neighborhood. Perhaps his daughter’s correspondence would end without his interference after all.
Mr. Bingley offered Jane his arm upon quitting the house, and the two soon found themselves seated on a garden bench. Mr. Bingley kissed her hand and kept it firmly enclosed in his, turning his head away in evident distraction. Jane rested her hand upon their joined ones, encouraging Mr. Bingley to look upon her face and graced him with an assuring smile.
“I admit, Jane, that I am rather surprised at Darcy’s departure. I did not relate the whole of it in the presence of your family, but he departed before dawn this morning, and my delay in arriving here was actually due to this.” He pulled a folded letter from his pocket and held it in his lap.
Withdrawing his hand from hers to open the letter, he handed it to Jane, and nodded gently for her to read it. She accepted the letter and upon finishing it, looked up at Mr. Bingley with a calm expression, waiting for him to explain his distress over the apparently normal letter.
“Forgive me, Jane. Perhaps I my concern is unwarranted, but I cannot shake the feeling that he is concealing something. At first, I thought he had a pressing matter of business, but Darcy and I have discussed our business dealings with each other since Cambridge, and he had not planned to leave for London until tomorrow.”
“Perhaps the holiday festivities of last evening made him realize the extent to which he misses his sister’s company, and he resolved to be near her as soon as may be. I imagine he must be anxious to see her, and she equally anxious to see him. I am certain a letter inquiring after his journey would be returned with a positive response that all is truly well.”
Mr. Bennet gazed out upon the garden from his library window. He observed with pride Jane’s manner of supporting Mr. Bingley, she truly would make him an excellent wife, and as much as he liked to tease about it, he did could not doubt that Mr. Bingley’s attachment was equally sincere. He very much did doubt, however, that Mr. Darcy was as anxious to see his sister as Jane supposed, as he had a strong suspicion as to the real reason behind the gentleman’s departure. Mr. Bennet sighed. Though he had never allowed thoughts of matchmaking to enter his mind, he could not but think the young man would have made a sensible addition to the family.
The next day brought several ladies of the neighborhood calling on the ladies of Longbourn to discuss the Yuletide Ball. Mrs. Bennet held court in the drawing room, and amid the discussions of gowns and dance partners, and exclamations of how uniformly Jane and Mr. Bingley were admired, Elizabeth was able to leave the house unnoticed.
As she walked a circuitous route towards Meryton, Elizabeth thoughts turned unbidden to Mr. Darcy. Though she had sworn to loathe the man, and quite often found little difficulty in doing so, she could not deny that he was quite intelligent and well-educated, rare traits amongst gentlemen in vicinity. Further detrimental to her loathing was her reluctant admittance that he was rather handsome, and had been the most favorable of her partners at the ball for his skillful movement and fine figure. Knowledge of his departure left her feeling a strange sense of trepidation towards entering the bookshop, and as she reached the back shelves, she could not shake her apprehension that the binding of A Political Romance would contain no more than Sterne’s original text. The anticipated note was present, however, and she chastised herself for her foolishness in suspecting the writer to be Mr. Darcy. What an insensible notion indeed that he would be secretly charming beneath his disdainful exterior. If she could imagine this to be true, she may as well believe him to be Robin Hood and herself Maid Marian.
Exiting the bookshop, Elizabeth refused to feel any disappointment over eliminating the arrogant man from her list of possible correspondents, and paused along the path to Longbourn to read the following.
December 22, 18__I cannot condemn your freedom of expression with regard to your opinions, nor can I deny my similar preference of the country over town. There is a certain tranquility found in nature that cannot be duplicated in the bustle of London. That is not to say, however that London does not have its advantages in refinement. Entertainments such as concerts and art galleries cannot be discredited, though the theatre is a personal favorite.
Elizabeth was pleased to find such continued accord between their views. Though she rarely had the opportunity to attend the theatre, she had greatly enjoyed the performances she had seen, and looked forward to reading accounts of his experiences in further detail.
The afternoon brought the arrival of Gardiner family for the blessed holiday celebration two days hence. The children were eager to reunite with their elder cousins, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner warmly extended their congratulations to Jane. Mrs. Bennet rushed to her brother and his wife, well into expressing her raptures over Mr. Bingley and the grandeur of Netherfield Park before they had entered the house.
The hours before dinner passed quickly. The Gardiner girls relished in Jane’s elegant company as she complimented their dolls and dressed their hair, while the boys begged Elizabeth for tales of pirates, knights, and any other mischief upon which their cousin was the resident expert. Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters probed Mrs. Gardiner for information on the latest fashions in town. The hectic atmosphere seemed all that the Gardiners expected upon their arrival. It was not until dinner that Mrs. Bennet had finally extinguished all subject matter related to fashion and Jane’s wedding that her discourse turned to a subject which caused Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner no little concern.
“We must not forget Lizzy’s good fortune, for though she may not have pin money equal to Jane’s, she is quite fortunate indeed to have secured Mr. Collins.”
Mrs. Gardiner cast a questioning glance in her niece’s direction, as Elizabeth’s letters had reflected a rather disfavorable opinion of Mr. Collins.
“Mama, again I would ask that you not speak so. I have not ‘secured’ him and there is no connection between Mr. Collins and myself, aside from his being our cousin.”
All at the table noted Elizabeth’s discomfort, save her mother, who continued to extol the relief that would be brought her nerves by having a daughter married to Longbourn’s heir. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner looked upon their niece with compassion, and were disappointed to observe more amusement than concern in Mr. Bennet’s countenance.
Elizabeth pled fatigue and excused herself to retire soon after the family joined in the drawing room after dinner. Mrs. Gardiner offered to accompany her niece, as travelling had left her feeling rather weary as well, and excused herself with a knowing look to her husband, who soon suggested to Mr. Bennet that the gentlemen retire to the library.
“Brother Bennet, I must admit I find myself baffled by the scene I witnessed at the dinner table this evening. I have always known my sister to be exuberant with her notions, and I understand your reluctance to correct them, as their sheer volume would leave you little time for anything else, however I am surprised you have not felt the need to intercede in this case.”
Mr. Bennet laughed, “Yes, I do feel for my dear Lizzy being subjected to such nonsense, but she defended herself quite well, and once the topic of Mr. Collins passes from my wife’s favor, the matter will be forgotten.”
“I am not sure I would take Elizabeth’s distress so lightly, but more importantly, what of her reputation? From what I have heard of Mr. Collins, I doubt he is handling the situation with any circumspection, despite his lack of formal arrangement.”
“Do not be so concerned Edward. No man of sense would believe a word Mr. Collins says, and as to her reputation, I doubt my girls will come into contact with any young gentlemen from Kent. Any young man interested in my daughters would have to overcome their mother; if a man is capable of that, and by off chance he had been in that part of the country, hearing Mr. Collins’ unfounded rumor could be of no consequence to them. I am sure this will all blow over soon enough.”
“Let us hope you are correct.”
Christmas at Netherfield enveloped all the merriment the season should entail. The addition of the Gardiner children reminded many in attendance of the holidays of their youth. Even Mr. Bingley sister’s were able to enjoy the occasion tolerably well, as they could not but look fondly upon a scene so similar to that of their own childhoods. That is not to say either Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst mixed with the Bennets and Gardiners any more than necessary, but their brother’s resolve had begun to influence them, and their behavior need not be so guarded in the absence of Mr. Darcy and their desire to impress him.
Christmas in London, though celebrated in the same fashion as years previous, fell rather dull in the eyes of Mr. Darcy. While he greatly enjoyed Georgiana’s Christmas carols, and occasionally joined her in song, every family gathering with the Fitzwilliams felt cold and sterile. Each member of the party was jovial in their own way, yet each exhibited a formality and reserve that he would have once called civility, but now simply seemed detached and empty. It was as though each person knew, rather that felt it was a season to be joyful. He envisioned the Christmas party at Netherfield, loud and boisterous, yet full of the gaiety and laughter associated with the idyllic holiday scene of family gathering together and children opening their packages. The image of Elizabeth seated on the floor surrounded by her own brood of children, laughing and smiling amidst their squeals of glee upon opening each delicately packaged gift, played in his mind. He could not envision any woman of his circle in such a scene, and still mourned the loss of seeing his sister thus with his own mother, as his father said she had done with him.
The month of January passed in a hectic blur for the occupants of Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet would allow her daughter’s wedding to be nothing less than the finest affair the neighborhood had ever seen. Every aspect was discussed and planned to the smallest detail. Fortunately for Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet primarily sought the opinion of Jane and Mr. Bingley when deciding these matters, though the input of others effected her decisions but rarely. Mrs. Bennet much preferred to make the most fashionable selections and report to her acquaintance every new detail scheduled for this most elegant event.
Elizabeth was therefore at liberty to continue a regular exchange of notes with her unknown correspondent. Their discussions turned to literature, and she was pleased to find his tastes similar to hers. Though not always of like mind, she found her equal in wit and logic, and their discussions often reached a level that could have easily been unintelligible to many.