Without Vanity or Pride: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Duology

Chapter 9

It took them a great deal of time to traverse the miles from Berkeley Square to Gracechurch Street, yet somehow the time flew by. Elizabeth could scarcely credit how close to the dinner hour it was when at last they arrived on her aunt’s doorstep.

They found the family awaiting them in the saloon, Jane, Mr Bennet and Mr and Mrs Gardiner all together. Mr Bennet was mostly silent while Mrs Gardiner fussed over how tired they must be from walking such a distance and invited Mr Darcy to stay and dine with them.

“Oh, Aunt, um,” Elizabeth exclaimed, feeling herself flush, “no doubt Mr Darcy has many demands?—”

“I would absolutely love nothing more,” said Mr Darcy firmly. “Thank you, madam. You are too kind.”

Mrs Gardiner seemed pleased, then directed her attention to a conversation between Mr Bennet and her husband.

Elizabeth turned towards Mr Darcy on the sofa where they had both taken a seat. “Sir, you are too good. I fear this dinner plan is not pleasing to you, and I assure you, should you wish to make an excuse?—”

“Make an excuse! Not a bit,” he said in such accents that she could not doubt the veracity of his words. “I am very pleased with your aunt’s kindness.”

“I did not think you much enjoyed your last visit here,” she said, still speaking quietly.

“What I did not enjoy was my relations and their outlandish and perhaps offending behaviour. We were like a band of Gypsies. If I was not ashamed of myself before for saying…”

He glanced towards the others across the room. Lowering his voice further, he continued. “For what I said before. I am heartily ashamed of myself now. To speak to the woman I love in such a way! And how absurd to task you for the actions of your relations when surely mine are nothing of which to boast. I never knew I was such a hypocrite.”

”Perhaps we ought to make a vow,” Elizabeth said lightly, “that I shall not hold the behaviour of your relations against you, if you will not hold mine against me.”

“The first of many vows, I hope,” he said with a look that made her feel liquid inside. After a quick glance about him, he brushed the back of her hand with his fingertips. It was all she could do to refrain from shivering.

It was a fine dinner. Even Mr Bennet was in agreeable spirits, with none of his earlier recalcitrance. Elizabeth enjoyed it even as she was distracted by the gentleman on her right side. How greatly her feelings for Mr Darcy had altered and in so short a time!

Yet, one substantial problem remained. His friend no longer had a house in Hertfordshire, and she had forsworn her northern tour with her aunt and uncle. Surely, when her father saw her genuine attachment to Mr Darcy, he would—no. It would not do. If anything, Mr Bennet would likely find satiric delight in tormenting her once he knew she was in earnest.

What future had she with Mr Darcy if she had no hope of future meetings with him?

* * *

In the end, it had been Mr Darcy who handily solved the problem of her travel to Derbyshire.

Having prevailed upon Mr Bingley for the use of Netherfield for the remaining weeks of his lease, Mr Darcy soon became a regular caller at Longbourn. Things did not begin in a promising way. Mrs Bennet’s reaction when she realised Mr Darcy was there for Elizabeth was deeply mortifying. She soon learnt to hurry him into her father’s study when he arrived, and he seemed appreciative of her efforts. He and Mr Bennet had played chess together after dinner at the Gardiners’ home and rapidly discovered in each other a worthy opponent both in chess and in debate.

“What is this, Darcy?” Mr Bennet grumbled after his first loss. “Do you think if you defeat me often enough, I will change my mind about sending Elizabeth with her aunt and uncle?”

“Not at all, sir. I am perfectly content to woo her within her own neighbourhood,” said Mr Darcy smoothly. “After all, you can hardly imagine Miss Elizabeth confused by my wealth or by Pemberley when she is being courted in the surroundings of her own home.”

And woo her he did, with long rambles through the Hertfordshire countryside, family dinners, and even assemblies where the neighbourhood quickly learnt to revise their opinion of him.

“I always thought he had an eye for her,” Mrs Long told Mrs Bennet.

“As did I,” her mother squawked indignantly in reply. “But do you think that girl listens to a thing I say? She would be married by now if she had!”

But the means by which Mr Darcy ensured Elizabeth’s travel to Pemberley was begun perfectly innocently. He was with Elizabeth, Jane, and Mrs Bennet in the cutting garden when Lydia ran up to them all and excitedly announced her plan to go to Brighton to follow the officers. Mrs Bennet, just as excitedly, voiced her support of the scheme.

Mr Darcy just then glanced at Elizabeth and she, in turn, silently implored him to help. Almost immediately he silently set the basket he had been holding for the ladies onto the ground. Then he excused himself and went to—Elizabeth later learnt—Mr Bennet’s study, wherein he explained to him why he must not, under any circumstances, allow his youngest daughter to go off to Brighton. Mr Darcy told Elizabeth’s father in plain terms why certain militia members were never to be trusted, and Mr Bennet had responded as he ought. Lydia’s plans were rapidly denounced.

As a result, none of them at Longbourn had a moment’s peace. Lydia was determined to make them all suffer for her deprivation.

“Pemberley is a quiet place,” Mr Darcy informed Mr Bennet as they stood one afternoon in June watching Elizabeth, Jane, and Kitty play Coronella, a game Mr Darcy had brought down from London.

“Is it, hmm?” Mr Bennet asked while Elizabeth pricked up her ears to listen. “I envy you that, sir, likely more than anything else.”

“The library there is the work of many generations,” said Mr Darcy idly, almost as though the thought had only just occurred to him. “I confess I do not even know how many books are there. I surely have not read them all.”

Elizabeth chanced a peek at her father but turned her attention back to the game. Kitty had learnt it the fastest and was proving a worthy opponent.

“The library is towards the back of the house which has excellent light most of the day and is out of the way of the servants and their business.”

“What is it to me how quiet and grand is the library at Pemberley?” Mr Bennet asked, a little bitterly.

“I was only thinking,” said Mr Darcy, offering a little clap to Elizabeth who had just caught a particularly difficult toss, “that this promise Miss Elizabeth made you. It was that she would give up travel with her aunt and uncle, yes?”

Elizabeth peeped over her shoulder in time to see Mr Bennet incline his head.

“Then if she came to Pemberley with you, sir, her promise to you would remain inviolate and you would have the benefit of a peaceful sojourn in Derbyshire, ensuring Elizabeth did not lose her head.”

Elizabeth is not going to lose her head, Elizabeth thought. Though her heart is another matter entirely.

“Are you inviting me to Pemberley, Darcy?” Mr Bennet sounded amused by the notion, but Elizabeth did not dare turn to look at him.

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I am inviting you to bring your daughter to Pemberley.”

Mr Bennet chuckled, after which there was a silence. Elizabeth fervently hoped her father was contemplating the myriad ways in which his peace was cut up at Longbourn presently: the daily weeping and raging against the unfairness of life to which Lydia subjected them all, Kitty’s arguments with Lydia over whose life had a greater share of injustice, or Mary and her efforts to learn to play the harp lute. They could hear the discordant twangs even from their present distance from the house.

“I daresay it is not the worst idea I have heard,” Mr Bennet finally pronounced and then excused himself to return to his study.

As soon as he was gone, Elizabeth nearly skipped to Mr Darcy’s side. Squeezing his hand, she said, “You, sir, are a genius.”

He tapped her lightly on her nose. “You inspire me.”