Chapter 8
A Longbourn Kind of Day
Entering through the service entrance, Elizabeth rushed to her room, relieved to have avoided everyone.
She placed the camellia in a small glass that she filled with water.
Later, when it began to wilt, Elizabeth would press it between the pages of a book.
Staring at it, she wondered if Jane would notice the bud.
Elizabeth did not know how she might answer any questions that might then arise.
Unable to resist any longer, she pulled the note from her pocket…
Thank you for another perfect memory, Princess Elizabeth
Was he presumptuous or just hopeful? Elizabeth wondered, her thoughts circling about their encounters. She had turned into quite the flirt and would be horrified if any of her sisters did the same. Still, she found regret to be impossible.
Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face to cool her blush. She knew she would give herself away if she did not think of something else, anything other than him. Her thoughts were interrupted in quite an unexpected manner.
“I require you all in the breakfast room. Now,” Mrs. Bennet called out from beyond the door. Elizabeth’s shoulders fell. She made every attempt to cling to the wondrous feelings the morning had brought her, but they faded with the first sound of her mother’s voice filled with anger.
Walking to the breakfast room, Elizabeth saw her sisters coming from all directions.
When Mrs. Bennet stared at Mr. Bennet in expectation, he bid them break their fast. He only spoke when all at his table had filled a plate.
“I have reason to expect an addition to our party, one who will stay with us a month complete.”
“A month complete? Who is coming?” Mrs. Bennet asked. By her vexation, Elizabeth surmised it was not the first time their mother had posed the question.
“I want you all to make every effort in welcoming our guest,” Mr. Bennet said, his eyes sweeping all seated around the table.
“I resent your implication that a guest has come whom I have not welcomed. Tell us, Mr. Bennet, who you expect to visit. Do not keep us in suspense,” Mrs. Bennet said again.
“My heir. He comes to heal the breach in our family,” Mr. Bennet said, looking at each daughter in turn with deliberation. “He declares a hope to make amends for inheriting my estate. I believe he means to choose a wife from among your daughters, Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth is the perfect choice.”
Chaos erupted. Elizabeth stuttered over her words in an attempt to deny the assertion. Her sisters protested on her behalf. Mrs. Bennet announced the plan “perfection.”
“If you pursue this, Father, be assured I will throw Mother into the hedgerows so our suffering twenty years of her caterwauling will not be without cause,” Elizabeth said, her anger so sudden and hot within her she felt it coursing through her veins.
When Mrs. Bennet slapped Elizabeth across her cheek, silence became absolute. All of her sisters stared at their mother in shock.
“Now, Miss Lizzy, say you will have me here, and I will be the mistress of this house so long as I am alive,” Mrs. Bennet said, making out of the ask a command.
“I will not. You shall be mistress of this house for only so long as Father is alive. If you think this high-handedness will force such of me, Mother”—Elizabeth then made certain her gaze did not waver from that of her mother’s—“know now, even before I can claim one, you are unwelcome in any house of which I am mistress.”
As Elizabeth said the last, she stilled, expecting another blow. She nearly wilted in her relief when it did not come. She then turned to her father, only to find that his expression was a mix of remorse and anger, but he did not speak.
“Tell her she must take care of me if it is in your will,” Mrs. Bennet cried out, glaring at her husband.
Across the table, Kitty pleaded. “Is there no other way?”
Elizabeth did not ask to be excused. She left the breakfast room without looking back. When Mr. Bennet ordered her return, she ignored him. Elizabeth then heard her father command one of her sisters to sit again at the table.
“Do you intend to allow Mother to abuse me as well, sir?” Jane’s sweet voice was a balm to Elizabeth’s soul, in greater turmoil than she had ever known. Moments after Elizabeth sat on her bed, all her sisters encircled her in their arms.
At two o’clock that afternoon, the Bingley carriage slowed to a stop in front of Longbourn. The Darcys and Mr. Bingley were announced.
“Welcome,” Mrs. Bennet said, scowling when Elizabeth became the immediate focus of their guests.
“Oh, Heaven above. Are you well?” Miss Darcy rushed to Elizabeth’s side.
“A disagreement of opinion was had this morning,” Elizabeth said, taking advantage of the peacefulness she found in Mr. Darcy’s presence. She turned her head so Miss Darcy would not be able to focus on the swollen cheek.
“Defiance is not a trait any daughter should claim,” Mrs. Bennet said, her satisfaction made greater when Elizabeth remained silent.
Elizabeth shifted so that she could no longer see her mother, focusing instead on their new friend.
“Oh, it is you again, Mr. Darcy,” Bennet said when he joined the company in his wife’s drawing room.
“My sister wished to return the visit given that your daughters were so good as to keep her company the night through when they last came to Netherfield Park,” Mr. Darcy said.
Elizabeth felt a rush of gratitude when she saw him return a cold stare to her father. She felt yet greater appreciation for Mr. Darcy, not having to wait long before her father turned away to hide from the challenge issued within it.
Elizabeth fought the urge to reach out to Mr. Darcy when her prince of thoughtfulness did not hide his vehemence, his jaw twitching in his anger.
She also understood his need to depart for both their benefit.
His reactions would seem disproportionate for such a slight acquaintance, which all believed they had.
She watched Mr. Darcy bow, his gaze fixed on her alone. Then the most extraordinary gentleman she had ever met took his sister by the arm and walked out of Longbourn. Mr. Bingley shook his head the whole way to the carriage.
The Return to Netherfield
“You must remove the Miss Bennets,” Georgiana implored.
“We do not have the right, Ana.”
Darcy appreciated that Bingley did not ask if he wanted to, should opportunity arise.
He did not have to consider the matter overmuch, for the answer was found in the eyes of Miss Elizabeth.
Without hesitation, he would bring her into his home.
And he would ensure she experienced happiness every day.
That she would know to him she was beautiful, and that she knew happiness.
“Then marry her. You like her more than you like any other lady, and she will then never have to see them again.”
“Even if I wished such an outcome, and I do not say I do, I would both need to be able to speak privately with her, and obtain her father’s permission. I do not see how I might accomplish the first. I cannot think she will be allowed to return to Netherfield any time soon.”
“I intend to write the Gardiners,” Bingley said, his tone now business-like in its calculating decisiveness.
This was the Bingley whom Darcy knew best, and precisely why Darcy so respected him. He could propose answers that others saw as obvious and correct, but which they had not thought of.
“An excellent idea.” Darcy’s relief was profound because he was sure Gardiner could and would aid his nieces.
“And she is certain to attend if we hold a ball. When Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were at Netherfield, they looked in the ballroom. Mrs. Nicholls said it has not been used in years,” Georgiana said, looking between himself and Bingley with such hope it would break a man’s heart to deny her.
“Brilliant, Ana. We could have a ball in two weeks, three at most. I will speak with Caroline the moment we are returned.” With Darcy’s mind reeling, the strength and serenity of Bingley’s voice grounded him.
Darcy spared a long look at his friend, appreciating his approach to this with such a firm and decisive manner.
“Thank you, both of you. I do not understand it, but I feel like I have known Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth longer than a few days. Both have shown me every consideration.” Georgiana sniffled.
Darcy patted his sister’s hand. “They value your company in equal measure.”
Darcy looked out the carriage window, willing the Gardiners to arrive by that very afternoon, though the missive had yet to be written.
He prayed that whatever had caused such upheaval was not so dire as it seemed.
But after searching through Elizabeth’s eyes, in the single moment they had allowed themselves the reprieve, he knew otherwise.
He feared the cause of her sadness might tear his heart asunder.