Chapter 4
Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were looking their best when they were introduced in the drawing room. In just the short distance from the carriage, the rain had done much damage to their appearance, and maids were called to bring towels, while tea was waiting to be poured.
“My dear Miss Bennet, how lovely to see you again!” Miss Bingley declared. “And Miss Eliza — how kind of you to accompany your sister. Have you ever visited Netherfield before?”
“Thank you. We are grateful for your invitation, Miss Bingley,” Jane said. “Yes, we have visited Netherfield often in the past. Our parents were good friends of the owners, Mr and Mrs Norfolk, before they moved to Bath.”
Miss Bingley’s lips pinched together, and she did not appear happy with the news.
“Do not thank me. We are pleased to have some entertainment, as life in the countryside is so dull. I do not wonder that the Norfolk family moved to Bath. It cannot compare to Meryton. I truly cannot understand how you bear it!”
The comment, offensive under a veneer of amiability, caused Elizabeth to frown.
She had not had much time or interest in sketching the Bingley sisters’ characters at the assembly, beyond noticing their elegant gowns and distant, arrogant behaviour towards most of the neighbourhood.
They had been attentive and polite to Jane, though, and for that, Elizabeth was ready to approve of them.
However, the very beginning of the visit changed her mind completely.
“We have lived here all our lives, so we are accustomed to it, Miss Bingley,” Jane responded.
“I find country living very charming!” Mr Bingley interjected. “If one happens to have pleasant neighbours, one might be content to live in the country all the time.”
“If one has never had the opportunity to experience life in London, one cannot make any comparison and therefore may simply enjoy the country because they know of nothing else. Do you ever go to London, Miss Bennet?” Mrs Hurst enquired.
“We do. My uncle and aunt have often invited Lizzy and me to visit them.”
“Have they? How lovely. And in which part of town do they live?”
“In Gracechurch Street,” Jane said, showing increasing discomfort. Mr Bingley seemed disquieted too, while Mr Hurst was enjoying his drink, and Mr Darcy watched silently, holding his glass.
“Where precisely is Gracechurch Street?” Miss Bingley continued.
“Near Cheapside,” Jane answered, and the Bingley sisters exchanged appalled and amused glances.
“I have never been to that part of London,” Miss Bingley admitted.
“Neither have I,” Mrs Hurst supported her. “We have no business there.”
“My uncle and aunt have a lovely home,” Elizabeth interjected. “We feel privileged every time they invite us.”
“What is your uncle’s situation, may I ask?”
“He is in trade. But he also studied to become a lawyer.”
“How interesting,” Miss Bingley said, barely concealing the disdain in her voice. “Mr Darcy also has an uncle who went into the law, except that he is a judge.”
“My father was also in trade,” Bingley said. “Such an excellent, hardworking man! A real gentleman to look up to!”
“I could say the same about my uncle,” Elizabeth replied with a smile of gratitude towards Mr Bingley for his timely intervention which stopped his sister’s insolence.
The admission of having a relative in trade — although hardly a secret to anyone present — made Miss Bingley’s face colour, and she gulped some tea, exchanging more glances with her sister.
“What terrible weather!” Mrs Hurst turned the conversation to a more neutral subject. “The time is still early, but the darkness makes it feel like late evening.”
“Precisely,” Miss Bingley said. “Speaking of time, we were expecting you earlier. Did something happen to your father’s carriage, since you were conveyed here by Charles? I was not even aware that my brother would visit you today.”
The rudeness in her words and especially in her superior tone made Elizabeth cringe. She congratulated herself on her decision to accompany Jane and not allow her sister to face such rudeness alone. She was ready to provide an equally harsh reply when Mr Bingley interjected again.
“Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were ready to depart in their father’s carriage at the established hour. I suggested calling on them and escorting them here. It was my pleasure and my decision, so any fault for the delay is mine.”
“I must also admit to my share of the blame,” Mr Darcy intervened in a distant tone. “Mr Bennet invited us to join him for a drink, and I insisted on accepting.”
“But are you even acquainted with the Bennets, Mr Darcy?” Miss Bingley enquired with reproachful puzzlement.
Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy’s shoulders straighten in a gesture that betrayed his displeasure.
“What difference does that make to you, Miss Bingley?” Mr Darcy asked icily.
“I am not accustomed to justifying my decisions, nor to requesting approval for my actions. I trust it is a gentleman’s prerogative to choose his drinking companions, whether they are new acquaintances or old. Would you not agree?”
“I agree,” Mr Hurst interjected unexpectedly. “Upon my word, this argument is a complete waste of time. Let the men drink, and you ladies enjoy your tea and make everybody happy.”
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst looked angered by such a rebuke, while Elizabeth could hardly conceal her amusement. However, a moment later, she became utterly disconcerted when she heard Mr Darcy addressing her.
“Miss Elizabeth, speaking of your father, we discussed a book that he would like to read, and I believe I have seen a copy in Bingley’s library. He said it was one of your favourites too, and I would be happy to help you find it for him if you wish to.”
Elizabeth was momentarily lost for words at such a bold suggestion. She had hoped for a private moment with Mr Darcy to explain her prior connection to his family, but to ask her to join him in the library, away from the others, was a barely proper gesture.
She met his gaze and held it briefly, then stood up.
“That is very kind of you, Mr Darcy.”
“If you are familiar with Netherfield,” Miss Bingley interjected, “you must be well acquainted with the library too, Miss Eliza. I am sure you are capable of finding the book by yourself.”
Elizabeth did not even attempt to be polite as she replied, “I am, but since Mr Darcy has been so generous as to offer me his company, I shall gladly accept it. It will be my pleasure to benefit from his support.”
As though he understood her intention, Mr Darcy answered, “The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss Elizabeth. Allow me to escort you.”
They left the room together, and Elizabeth could feel the Bingley sisters’ cutting gazes stabbing her from behind.
They walked towards the library, and before they entered, Mr Darcy stopped, and she did the same.
“Miss Elizabeth, I beg you to excuse my deception. As you probably imagined, I lied in order to steal a few moments of your time. I hope it was not too much of an imposition.”
“Mr Darcy, any time away from Miss Bingley is most welcome—” She paused and took a breath. “I apologise for being so hard on your friends, but I feel like Mr Bingley has received all the kindness and amiability in that family.”
“Mr Bingley is my friend. In truth, I cannot argue with your assumption. Would you like to enter the library?”
“Certainly. Besides, we must return with at least one book, or else we shall have to spend the rest of our visit in arguments and explanations.”
He opened the door and entered but remained standing.
“Before we go any further, I must apologise again for my rudeness at the assembly. I was in very low spirits, and I only attended because Bingley insisted. Regardless, there is no excuse for my incivility. I assure you it is not my habit to offend young ladies whom I am not acquainted with, even in my foulest of moods.”
She laughed. “Yes, I have noticed that you not only offend strangers but also your friend’s sisters. But I cannot fault you for that.”
He seemed disconcerted by her statement, and she realised she must soften her tone to avoid turning their second meeting into another disaster.
After all, she wished to speak to him about his family likely as much as he did.
And from what she had seen that day, she was not completely opposed to his behaviour.
He had shown enough civility to her family and enough censure to Bingley’s sisters to gain some sympathy and approval from her.
“However, if we are to apologise, it is my turn to do so too, Mr Darcy. I am not in the habit of being impolite to gentlemen I have just met or refusing to dance or have a conversation at an assembly. Not even in my foulest of moods,” she said, mirroring his words and allowing herself to laugh to show her amusement.
Her open laughter and teasing clearly caught Mr Darcy off-guard. He looked awkward, and she took pity on him.
“Come Mr Darcy, let us try to show each other the better side of our manners and education, shall we? Please feel free to ask me whatever you want to know.”
“I shall gratefully accept your generous offer of a truce, Miss Elizabeth. I admit to being extremely curious in regard to your connection to my family. Would you be so kind as to share the circumstances?”
“Gladly, sir. Ten years ago, I visited Derbyshire with my aunt, Mrs Madeleine Gardiner. The aunt who lives near Cheapside,” she said meaningfully.
“I feel the need to apologise again, this time for Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst’s rudeness,” he said, but she stopped him with a gesture.
“Do not worry. It was not your offence to apologise for. My aunt grew up in Lambton and herself has a great aunt, Mrs Honoria Clarke, who was still living there at the time.”
Mr Darcy stared at her with increasing curiosity. “Truly? What an astonishing coincidence! Lambton is only five miles from Pemberley, my home. Mrs Clarke was my mother’s seamstress for years. I remember her from my childhood.”
“Precisely. That summer I joined Aunt Clarke and Aunt Gardiner at Pemberley several times while they fitted Lady Anne for new gowns. As a child, I played with Miss Darcy, although she was much younger than me. I met Lady Anne too, and I was rewarded with her graceful kindness. Sadly, that was the summer Lady Anne died…”
“Yes…it was ten years ago this past summer,” Mr Darcy replied, his voice strangled with emotions.
“Indeed. It was tragic news that greatly affected me and my aunt and uncle. I can only imagine how much you and Miss Darcy suffered. I know it is too late, but please accept my heartfelt condolences for the deaths of both your parents. Such remarkable people, gone so soon, at such a young age. What a terrible loss for you and for everyone who knew them.”
Mr Darcy sat, clearly overwhelmed by emotions, disregarding the fact that she was still standing.
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. It was a tragic loss indeed… More than I can say…”
“I am afraid to imagine how much Miss Darcy suffered, being still a small child. I have often thought of her and prayed for her. My aunt has asked for news about her over the years. Mrs Clarke was a close friend to Mrs Reynolds, but sadly she also died a few years ago.”
“Yes…” he mumbled.
“I hope Mrs Reynolds is in good health. She was much younger than Mrs Clarke. Is she still at Pemberley?”
“Yes…Mrs Reynolds is still our housekeeper. She is part of the family. Yes, fortunately she is in good health.”
“I am glad to hear that…”
“You have not seen my sister since she was five years old?”
“I have not. Your relatives would not allow me to see her again. They did not approve of a friendship with someone so far below your family. I understand that. I just hope she is well. I have thought of her often and hoped to meet her again one day. Of course, I am sure she does not remember me, since she was so young,” Elizabeth concluded with fondness and a lump in her throat.
Mr Darcy watched her, his brow creased and sadness in his eyes.
“She is well. Thank you for thinking of my sister, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I do and quite often…”
The silence became heavy and deep, and their shared gaze became almost unbearable. With trembling hands, Elizabeth opened the reticule she was carrying on her wrist and searched inside it.
“I have something to show you. I always carry it with me, though I never wear it in public. It is something that Lady Anne gave me,” she whispered.
Mr Darcy’s eyes lowered to her hand, closed in a fist, hiding something. Her fingers slowly opened, revealing the necklace. He stared at it with a frown on his face, a look of incredulity slowly spreading across his features.
He looked from Elizabeth to the necklace, then back again. Then he took it gently, his fingers touching her gloved palm. He held it up to the light, and his frown deepened, then he finally spoke, barely audibly.
“My sister has one almost identical, only the stones are different. This one belonged to my mother.”
“Yes, I know. Lady Anne told me when she gave it to me. She told me to wear it, but I have never found the right occasion,” she said, her voice as weak as a whisper.
Mr Darcy closed his fist around the necklace as if he intended to keep it. Elizabeth looked at him, disconcerted, and the heavy silence returned.
“May I have it back, please?” she whispered after a while, and he seemed to regain some composure and nodded.
With obvious reluctance, he opened his fist so she could take it. This time, her fingers touched his palm, and the sensation overwhelmed them both, adding to the tumult of other emotions already enveloping them.
“I believe we should return to the drawing room. We have been gone for long enough,” he eventually said, gesturing to the door.
“Mr Darcy, the book?” she reminded him.
“Oh yes, the book. Would you please choose one? Perhaps something you would like to read?”
“I…let me see… Some poetry would be lovely,” she said while placing the necklace back in her reticule and closing it carefully.
“My sister loves poetry too,” he said, his words still unsteady. “And music. Please chose any book you like, Miss Elizabeth,” he repeated.
Several minutes later, they re-joined the others in the drawing room, Elizabeth holding tightly to a book and her reticule. After that, the visit lasted less than another half an hour. When it was over, Mr Bingley offered to escort the ladies home.
***
Mr Darcy bid the guests a proper, polite farewell but did not join them. As soon as they left, he refused to be engaged in conversation and excused himself, then hurried back to the library and started to write a letter which he sent that very evening by express.