Without Vanity or Pride: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Duology

Chapter 3

I find myself on Mr Darcy’s arm.

It was nothing Elizabeth could ever have imagined when they set out that morning. She could not be easy, not with her own mortification and uncertainty to unsettle her, but neither did she wish him away. She considered, briefly, observing that his exalted cousin seemed quite comfortable with her relations, who were decidedly beneath him, but then thought better of it. Why introduce past injuries when at present there appeared to be some degree of amiability? Alas, it seemed Mr Darcy would introduce it himself.

“How did you say you know Mrs Gardiner?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “She is my aunt. Her husband is my mother’s younger brother.”

Mr Darcy did not react visibly, saying only, “She is very generous to allow us to interrupt your outing as we have.”

Elizabeth knew not how to reply and said only very lightly, “Anything to tire the children, or so I have learnt. They live on Gracechurch Street where there are not so many places for children to run and get fresh air.”

Mr Darcy said nothing to this.

They seemed to have exhausted the possibility for discourse, and Elizabeth was just about to suggest they pick up their pace to meet the others when Mr Darcy came to a stop.

“Saye thinks…” He faltered, frowned, and jabbed his walking stick at the path.

“Lord Saye thinks…what?”

He drew a deep breath. “My cousin has brought to my attention that it is a particular failing of mine to insist on having the last word in an argument. I had certainly not thought of that consciously, but in retrospect, I can see where it might have seemed that way.”

“Where what might have seemed what way?”

“Giving you a letter and then immediately removing from Kent as I did,” he explained. “I was, according to Saye, indulging in my propensity to have the last word.”

Elizabeth considered that a moment and began again to move slowly forwards. “It is perhaps a failing but if so, a common one. Do not we all like the final word? We all hope our own opinion or belief is the one that will be proved correct, else we should never undertake to argue for it.”

“It is one thing when a person is unable to rebut because your cleverness or reason has rendered them silent; it is quite another when you have silenced them by merely walking away. One can hardly march away victorious when all one has done is refused to allow the potential for response.”

“I surely did not feel in any way victorious after that night, sir, and I daresay you did not either.” Elizabeth drew a deep breath to quell the emotion which still arose at the thought of their last meeting.

“No, I did not, and I do not still. Nevertheless, we have met again, and I am afforded a second chance to do as I ought to have before and allow you to have your say.”

“I have already said too much and been too unjust already. I assure you, sir, I have neither the need nor the wish to say anything more.”

“Unjust? Not at all. In fact, I have, in the weeks since we last met, seen a great deal of justice in your feelings. Anything further that you wish to say to me, I am eager to hear.” He straightened, as if to gird himself. “You can have nothing to say that I do not deserve, and Saye felt it only right that you be given the opportunity to unburden yourself of whatever bitterness you might harbour towards me.”

Elizabeth could only stare, amazed that Mr Darcy, of all people, wished her to deliver him a set-down in the middle of the park. This proud man wanted that she should humiliate him here, surrounded by what seemed to be every person of fashion in London? What did it mean?

“That seems rather impolitic. To what end?”

Mr Darcy seemed to consider that a moment but at length did not directly answer her. Instead, he said only, “Truly, Miss Elizabeth, I urge you to do your worst.”

Her laughter seemed to startle him. “Now I know you cannot be in earnest. Not you who knows my worst. You cannot want that, not here, not now.”

He nodded, his face set in grim lines. “I do. You would honour me with your candour.”

Why?She wanted to press him for an answer. She had departed Kent with no expectation of ever seeing him again. She had imagined he did the same. Why suffer further injury from a person whose acquaintance with you would end? Unless perhaps he did not wish to see their acquaintance ended?

Does he still have hopes where I am concerned?

She had no idea what to think or feel about that—if it were even true.

Nor did she have any notion of what to say to him. His feelings about her family, while not merciful, were certainly just. His rebuke with regard to George Wickham was well-deserved. As for the matter of Jane and Mr Bingley…

Almost as though he had read her thoughts, he spoke again. “By the bye, I have been unable to see Bingley since my return from Kent, but it is my intention to go to him directly and apprise him of the error I made with regards to your sister. Perhaps I might persuade him to…” His words died. A glance in his direction revealed a furrowed brow and a frown.

“That is to say,” he continued, “I have no intention to persuade him to do anything. But if he should hit upon the idea of returning to Hertfordshire…that is to say, I might observe that it would not be a bad idea to return to Hertfordshire…not that I wish to exert undue influence…Bingley, you must understand, is naturally diffident and relies excessively on my judgment, so while I am loath to…”

Very gently, she touched his arm. “I understand. It is good of you to wish to mend that which has been rent, and if it pleases you, I hope you might reassure him that the neighbourhood will be excessively glad to see him return.”

He smiled, looking relieved. There was another pause between them. Elizabeth had not the least idea what to say. Had not everything been said? What more could there be?

“Miss Elizabeth,” said her companion when the silence had drawn long, “I beg you. Please say whatever you would like to say to me. Say whatever is within your heart. I will bear it cheerfully.”

The difficulty with his request was that at present, Elizabeth was unsure what was in her heart. In the month since his unexpected declaration to her, she had twisted and turned the events of their prior acquaintance. As she did so, she found her understanding of those events had changed.

I am no longer angry. The understanding did not surprise her, as she was not formed for ill-humour, particularly when the object of her anger appeared before her, seeming penitent. Had he come to her with any measure of his prior arrogance, her former bad feelings might have been bestirred. Instead, he seemed to wish to right prior wrongs, at least insofar as his ‘last word’ was concerned.

“What have you to say of my insult of you at the assembly in Meryton?” he prompted her. “That was excessively uncivil of me, was it not?”

She turned to see him regarding her with a pointed look. With a grin designed to vex him, she replied airily, “Oh that! So long ago, can it truly signify?”

He did not appear vexed but pursed his lips contemplatively. “I was not very kind to you at Netherfield. I supposed you might have expectations of me if I paid you too much attention.”

Elizabeth waved her hand, dismissing that. She was amused by his dogged attempts to provoke her. “A very reasonable point of view for a man in your position.”

“I said such dreadful things about your family.”

“And I was rather insolent to yours.”

He permitted himself a small smile. “That you were. Fitzwilliam and I had many good laughs for the expression you left on my aunt’s face on a number of occasions.”

“In any case,” she said, swallowing, “you said nothing that was not true. Painful as it was to hear, it was true.”

He stopped so suddenly that she was several paces ahead before she halted herself and turned round to see him with a terrible, sorrowful look on his face. For a moment they only beheld one another.

He closed the gap between them, then reached for her hand, pulling it to his lips. “I am sorry. It was not my place, and I beg you would forgive me.”

The hand he kissed was at once aglow with a warmth that spread up her arm. Her heart pounded, and she was suddenly quite short of breath. Somehow she managed to utter some syllable or another before again they recovered themselves and walked on.

They had come upon a small knot of parties walking slower than they were, so Elizabeth knew not if it was feeling or necessity that prevented them from speaking for a while. Eventually, they were again relatively alone.

Immediately, Mr Darcy said, “My proposal to you was everything abhorrent.”

“Not everything,” she said with a smile. “You began well.”

“My letter was written in a bitter spirit.”

“But the adieu was charity itself.”

“This set-down is not going as I believed it would,” said Mr Darcy, looking down at her intently. “I should have thought you would be eager to vent your spleen.”

“And I would think you might wish to vent yours.” She did her best to laugh, but the catch in her throat revealed her true feeling. Why, why does this man continue to affect me so! “I am ashamed that I permitted vanity to be my folly. I, who thought myself so wise, such a student of character! I could not see what was before me.”

He continued his intent gaze upon her so she added, “Two men, one with merely the appearance of goodness and the other…” Her breath caught again. “The other with the truth of it. You are a good man, Mr Darcy, and I deeply regret I did not before see it.”

He seemed as affected as she, though in a different way. He again looked forwards, but save for the movement needed to walk, was utterly still, no movement of breath, or chest, or face to betray his agitation. She wondered, briefly, how he managed such control over his emotions.

At last he said, quietly, “Thank you.”

They had, by this time, completely lost sight of Lord Saye, Jane, her aunt—everyone. Elizabeth made some ridiculous comment wondering where they had got to, and Mr Darcy seemed to understand her discomfiture. He made a remark about quickening their pace, and they did, continuing on in companionable silence.

He shot glances in her direction as they moved through the crowd which she perceived from the corner of her eye. In her mind a resolution was forming, but she knew not if she dared speak it. Would he attend Bingley into Hertfordshire again? Did she want to see him, and if she did, how best to say so? Oh, but the muddle in her mind was dreadful!

After a short time, they met again with the others, and a pleasurable half an hour was spent exclaiming over the sights in the gardens. Too soon, Mrs Gardiner was needed back at home and urged her two nieces to bid their friends farewell. With a surprising amount of regret, Elizabeth did as asked.

Lord Saye made a great scene out of bowing to Elspeth and Millie who giggled and blushed, quite plainly in love with him. To Mrs Gardiner he said, “Madam, I compliment you. I generally find children quite abhorrent, but yours are very charming.”

Mr Darcy bowed, looking very serious. Elizabeth had an unanticipated desire to invite him to call on her but did not think it sound to extend the invitation. After all, it was Gracechurch Street. Would he think it beneath his dignity?

In the end, it was Lord Saye who solved her dilemma. “I shall be round with Florizel two days hence, madam, if it should please you.”

Mrs Gardiner, to her credit, was neither excessively deferential nor discouraging. She only smiled as though it were her habit to receive viscounts every day. “We shall be honoured to see you.”

It had now become far easier for Elizabeth to turn to Darcy and say, “It appears your cousin has an appointment with mine, and if you should find yourself with the inclination to?—”

“Georgiana,” he said in reply, and she briefly fell silent, so incongruous was the response.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” she finally enquired.

He coloured rather charmingly. “That is to say my sister, Georgiana, would be—you, or rather your aunt—would do me a great honour if you should permit me to bring my sister to meet you.”

“You want to bring your sister to Gracechurch Street?”

With almost comical nonchalance that was a direct contrast to his cousin’s discomfiture, Lord Saye flung his arm about Darcy’s shoulders and answered on his behalf. “Georgiana is going to be almost wild when she finds out we met you today. She has been very nearly frothing at the bit to know you, Miss Elizabeth.”

Amused, Elizabeth looked at Mr Darcy to see if he appeared embarrassed by this assertion, but it did not seem he was.

He gave a small shrug that might have been designed to dislodge his cousin’s arm. “If it does not displease you, she has been very eager to know you.”

“Then it is settled!” Lord Saye removed his own arm and clapped his hands together. “Until Wednesday, Mrs Gardiner, and allow me to inform you now that I have an unchecked tendency to overstay my welcome.”