4. Insecurities Arise
CHAPTER 4
Insecurities Arise
E lizabeth had left her uncle’s warehouse not long after Darcy’s departure. The two spent some time selecting fabrics, with her aunt claiming they would be Christmas gifts for her sisters. Though Elizabeth found it odd to consider Christmas presents in February, she chose not to comment. However, she was too distracted to realise that her aunt’s inquiries focused far more on her preferences than those of her sisters.
After leaving the warehouse, they visited the dressmaker they had consulted shortly after the ball, where Elizabeth was to try on the gown for the event. To her surprise, the fitting was brief, with far less attention given to adjustments than expected. Instead, the dressmaker seemed more interested in discussing Elizabeth’s tastes and style preferences, much to her confusion.
As the dressmaker draped different fabrics over Elizabeth’s arm and held up lace and ribbons in various shades, her aunt watched with a smile. Elizabeth, however, remained oblivious to the true purpose of their visit. She answered each question distractedly, her thoughts still lingering on Mr. Darcy.
When the dressmaker inquired whether Elizabeth preferred a richer jewel-toned fabric or something softer, she hesitated before murmuring something about preferring practicality. Mrs. Gardiner chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with the seamstress.
“My dear, a well-chosen gown is not an extravagance but a necessity,” her aunt said gently. “And I should like to see you in something that brings out the colour in your cheeks.”
Elizabeth glanced down at the fabric in her hands—a deep emerald green that was far more striking than anything she would have chosen for herself. She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again when she caught her aunt’s expression. There was something in Mrs. Gardiner’s eyes—perhaps anticipation or a quiet kind of determination.
“Aunt, I cannot help but notice that you seem to have taken an unusual interest in my wardrobe today,” Elizabeth remarked, arching an eyebrow. “What are you about?”
Mrs. Gardiner merely smiled. “I wish for you to look your best, Lizzy. After all, you never know what opportunities might arise where you will need a new gown.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly at the comment but chose to continue as she had. The rest of the visit passed quickly, and before too much longer, they had returned home.
That afternoon, she joined the children on their daily walk to the park. It was unseasonably warm, so they spent a little over an hour playing games and enjoying the fresh air. Elizabeth delighted in watching her young cousins chase one another through the grass, their laughter ringing out frequently. She joined them in a game of hide-and-seek, much to their amusement, and finally in a game of hoops. Tired and slightly red-faced, all four of them, together with the nursemaid and governess, trooped back to the Gardiner home, having enjoyed the afternoon.
“You seem in good spirits today, Lizzy,” her aunt remarked when she entered the house, her voice tinged with amusement.
Elizabeth turned to her aunt with an easy smile. “It is difficult not to be in good spirits, Aunt. The weather is fine, the children are happy, and I have little reason for complaint.”
After indicating that Elizabeth should sit, Mrs Gardiner poured her niece a cup of tea and quietly fixed it, giving her time to recover after such an active afternoon with her cousins. Once Elizabeth was settled again, Mrs. Gardiner arched a brow, her expression knowing. “And seeing Mr. Darcy this morning has nothing to do with your pleasant mood?”
A flush crept up Elizabeth’s neck as she struggled to frame a response. “I very much enjoyed my time with the children,” she replied, focusing intently on her teacup.
Mrs. Gardiner merely hummed in amusement but said no more. Instead, she reached for a folded note resting beside her on the table. “Edward sent this earlier,” she said, holding it up for Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy has accepted the dinner invitation for tomorrow night and reiterated his offer for us to call on Darcy House at our convenience. We need only decide on a suitable day.”
Attempting to appear indifferent, Elizabeth took a measured sip of her tea, but the warmth lingering in her cheeks betrayed her. “That is very kind of him. I suppose we should determine which day is best.”
Mrs. Gardiner hid a smile behind her cup. “Indeed. I would like to see his home, and I would like to meet Miss Darcy. I wonder if she takes after her mother. I saw Lady Anne once or twice when I was in Lambton—she knew my mother—but our paths did not cross often.”
Tracing the rim of her saucer with one finger, Elizabeth hesitated. “I do not wish to impose upon him. We only met yesterday, though he must be serious about introducing me to his sister. He extends the invitation so frequently that I can only assume she desperately needs a friend.”
Setting her cup down, Mrs. Gardiner regarded her niece with amusement and knowing affection. “Elizabeth, my dear, I suspect the invitation is as much about him seeing you in his home as it is about you meeting his sister. While Miss Darcy may very well need a friend, I do not doubt that he wishes for your presence there just as much—if not more.”
“Aunt,” Elizabeth protested once more.
“I know, Lizzy, and I do not mean to meddle,” she said. “However, the man has shown a particular interest in you, and you have only seen him twice. How many times has he suggested you visit? He is coming here for dinner tomorrow night.”
“If he were as anxious as you think, why is he waiting until tomorrow to come? Why is he not coming tonight?” Elizabeth asked, thinking she would make this point against her aunt.
“Because he has a prior commitment this evening,” Mrs. Gardiner retorted. “Even still, he is gracious in allowing us time to prepare for his company. He is not waiting for his other family but is coming alone because he wishes to see you.”
Elizabeth conceded that her aunt may have a point, but she still attempted to keep her hopes in check. She did not want to be disappointed and was still not entirely convinced that the gentleman could genuinely be interested in her.
Elizabeth sat in her room the next morning, reflecting on why she was in London. As the second of five daughters, she had always been closest to her elder sister, Jane. Lately, however, that bond had frayed, prompting Elizabeth to seek a closer friendship with Mary instead.
When a young gentleman leased Netherfield last autumn, he initially showed great interest in Jane. Over time, however, his attention shifted towards Elizabeth. She had thought little of it at first, as she had primarily accompanied Jane as a chaperone rather than an equal participant. Always reserved in unfamiliar company, Jane spoke little beyond the expected pleasantries, leaving Elizabeth to sustain the conversation.
It was only when the gentleman—if one could call him that—prepared to leave that his true nature became evident. With self-important arrogance, he informed them that, between them, they made the perfect woman—one possessing beauty, the other intelligence.
The remark had offended them both. Elizabeth, quick-witted as ever, had given him a scathing reply, but the damage was done. Instead of condemning the man’s rudeness, Jane turned her disappointment on Elizabeth, convinced that her impertinence had driven him away. From that moment, a rift grew between them—one Elizabeth, despite her best efforts, had been unable to mend.
This fracture in their relationship was why Elizabeth accompanied her aunt and uncle to London after Christmas and remained there still. Their mother, siding with Jane’s account, had been furious, blaming Elizabeth entirely for chasing off a potential suitor. In a fit of temper, she even wished to send Elizabeth away permanently. Disinclined to refuse his wife in most matters, Mr. Bennet would not allow the banishment, but he did agree to an extended visit with the Gardiners, reasoning that time apart might ease tensions.
Though he was displeased by his favourite daughter’s prolonged absence, he had, as ever, chosen the path of least resistance. With few pressing matters of business during the winter months, he left matters to his steward and sought the peace that eluded Longbourn when household squabbles arose.
All of this left Elizabeth uncertain about her place in the world. Her father and Jane’s suitor had valued her intelligence, yet it had not been enough—her father did not seek her company, nor had Jane’s suitor fallen in love with her. Her mother, meanwhile, openly favoured Jane for her beauty and Lydia for her liveliness, finding little in Elizabeth to praise. She considered Elizabeth’s love of books and learning unnatural and frequently criticised her appearance.
Where Jane was blonde, blue-eyed, and took after their mother, Elizabeth had dark hair and green eyes and bore a stronger resemblance to the Bennet family. Jane was tall and slender, while Elizabeth’s figure was more voluptuous. Though Elizabeth frequently walked out—another habit her mother disapproved of—it did nothing to change her looks. Though many in Meryton called her the second most beautiful Bennet daughter, such compliments were never echoed at Longbourn.
It was little wonder, then, that Elizabeth struggled to believe Mr. Darcy could truly be interested in her. As she anxiously awaited his visit for dinner that evening, doubt gnawed at her.
“What is the matter, Lizzy?” Mrs. Gardiner asked when Elizabeth came downstairs, her eyes dull from lack of sleep.
“I have merely been thinking, Aunt,” Elizabeth began, her voice faltering slightly. She sighed deeply before sitting beside Mrs. Gardiner, whose counsel she had always held in high regard.
Mrs. Gardiner looked at her with gentle encouragement. “What about, my dear?” she prompted softly, her eyes warm and understanding. Having known Elizabeth for over a decade and having spent enough time at Longbourn to witness the dysfunction of that household, Mrs. Gardiner knew her niece was troubled but preferred to let Elizabeth voice her concerns in her own time. Mrs. Gardiner suspected it had something to do with Mr. Darcy’s attention, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth would open up.
After a pause, Elizabeth hesitated, clearly struggling with her thoughts. At last, she spoke, her voice quiet but earnest. “I have been thinking about Mr. Darcy,” she admitted, gazing downward. “You said that his asking me to dance is a mark of his interest, and while I was pleased when he first asked, I now feel I should decline.”
“Why do you believe so?” Mrs. Gardiner asked, trying to understand her niece’s reasoning.
Elizabeth paused, staring into the small fire burning in the grate for several moments before answering, her voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. “There seems little point in encouraging any expectations or in allowing others to speculate about our connection. I know that nothing will come of it. A man like Mr. Darcy cannot truly be interested in someone like me—a country girl with nothing to offer. He would much rather be seen with a beauty like Jane, someone who possesses the grace and charm of the accomplished young ladies he is accustomed to. A dance with someone like me, Aunt... well, it seems absurd.” Her voice wavered, and frustration and sadness shimmered in her eyes, betraying the emotions she struggled to contain.
Mrs. Gardiner sat silently, taking in her niece’s words. She had always seen Elizabeth as a young woman of sharp intelligence and lively spirit, qualities that made her stand out far more than her niece was willing to admit. But she knew Elizabeth’s heart was tender and that she carried the weight of her own doubts more heavily than most, in large part due to an indolent father and an overly critical mother.
“Elizabeth,” she began softly, “you are a woman of rare worth and must not undervalue yourself. Mr. Darcy may be a man of high station, but it is possible he is truly interested in you. Do not be so quick to dismiss the attention he has paid to you. He has been out in society for many years and has likely encountered many women like Jane, who society claims are beautiful. But neither of your parents has ever complimented you, and you likely do not realise how beautiful you are in your own right. You are intelligent and witty, and it seems likely that Mr. Darcy would admire you for those qualities.”
Elizabeth shook her head, her expression tight with uncertainty. “I want to believe that, Aunt. I do. But I cannot ignore what I know. Men like Mr. Darcy—wealthy, accomplished, and used to the finest of society—surely would not look for affection from someone like me. And while I would never claim that my sisters are without merit, I cannot help but see how little I measure up to them in his eyes. Jane is everything a man like him could desire. I... I am not.”
Mrs. Gardiner reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand, her touch gentle but firm. “You have more strength and grace than you give yourself credit for. And I believe Mr. Darcy sees that, even if you do not yet see it yourself. Do not reject his overtures simply because you think you cannot compare. He has asked you to dance the supper set, meaning he wants to spend more than half an hour in your company.”
Elizabeth looked up at her aunt, her face clouded with doubt, but her heart felt slightly lighter. She longed to believe her aunt’s words, but the fear of disappointment held her back. While she wanted others to see her for who she truly was and desired a marriage of equals for genuine affection, she wondered if that was what Mr. Darcy would wish. The thought of him paying her any real attention seemed impossible. And yet... there was a small, vulnerable part of her that dared to hope.
“I shall think on your words, Aunt,” Elizabeth whispered. “But for now, I cannot help but feel I am not meant for such attentions. What if he sees Jane and changes his mind, or another woman whom he prefers.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled gently. “Perhaps, my dear, the greatest mistake is to assume we are not worthy of what we deserve. Mr. Darcy’s actions may surprise you yet. Do not be too quick to judge what you do not fully understand.”
Elizabeth nodded, but the uncertainty remained in her heart. Still, her aunt’s words lingered in her mind, planting a small seed of doubt in her own resolve. Perhaps there was more to Mr. Darcy’s regard than she had allowed herself to believe.