Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
April 1810, Kent
M r Darcy and Elizabeth continued to be in each other’s company at dinner parties, morning calls, church services, and impromptu meetings during walks in the woods around Rosings Park. Alas—to the chagrin of both—they were always in the company of others. However, Elizabeth cherished the rare moments when they could exchange meaningful glances, share whispered conversations, or steal brief laughs in the corners of the room. With every encounter, her esteem for him only deepened.
Charlotte continued to show curiosity about the nature of the relationship, and one morning, as they sat together enjoying refreshments in the parsonage’s parlour, Elizabeth suspected she would face further interrogation. As Charlotte poured their tea, Elizabeth remained still in her chair beside the tea table watching her friend’s precise movements. Charlotte set down the teapot and gave her a probing gaze. Please do not ask me about Mr Darcy again , Elizabeth thought, though she concealed her feelings behind a polite smile.
Charlotte looked down towards the tea as she stirred sugar and milk into their drinks. The gentle clink of her spoon against the cups carried across the room as she worked meticulously. Then, setting the spoon aside, she finally broke the silence. “Lizzy, is there some sort of an understanding between you and Mr Darcy?”
Elizabeth laughed uncomfortably through the blush that heated her cheeks at the mere mention of him. “I assure you there is not.”
“He stares at you so much…I thought he surely must be ready to make you his wife,” Charlotte teased.
Elizabeth’s shrug elicited incredulity from her friend, whose eyes widened. “You must not be coy, not with me! Am I not one of your oldest friends?”
“Of course you are, you know you are,” Elizabeth said quickly, “but I do not know what it is you wish me to say. There is nothing for me to confide.”
Charlotte gave her a searching look before she gently handed her the cup of tea. Elizabeth accepted it with a small smile, then averted her gaze to the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, observing the shadows it cast on the settee across the room.
Charlotte drew Elizabeth’s attention when she finally responded. “You have always been like this, keeping matters so close to your heart. I suppose I shall not find out anything until there is an announcement.”
Some birds chirped happily from somewhere far away outside, and Elizabeth desperately wished she could be out of this room and wherever they were. She glanced back at her friend again and took a sip of tea. “Nothing has happened. He has not declared any intentions, or…or really said anything,” Elizabeth said, giving voice to concerns which had, in truth, plagued her. She believed his attentions were too marked to be anything but true regard and yet…yet he said nothing of true meaning to her. She flashed a brief insincere smile at her friend, trying to hide her dejection.
Charlotte pursed her lips a moment before asking, “Are you in love with him?”
Elizabeth inhaled sharply before admitting, “I enjoy his company very much.” It was an inadequate answer. In truth, she felt a connexion between their souls, and could not imagine spending her life with anyone less worthy, but she could not say so, not when she felt so uncertain of his feelings and whether he would speak them.
Charlotte took a small sip of her tea before placing it gently back on the saucer. “Perhaps his stares signify nothing more than absence of thought, then. He is a bit difficult to comprehend and has a stiffness in his manner that makes him difficult to approach. But all of these things could be overlooked if one was in love with him.”
Elizabeth knew what her friend was doing. How often had they provoked spirited debates between themselves by expressing ideas not their own! Charlotte wished her to leap to his defence, and in so doing, provide clues to what truly lay between them but she would not give in to that. She looked at her placidly. “Perhaps you are correct, Charlotte.”
Though tempted to defend him, Elizabeth was not provoked to divulge more. She was not one to discuss her feelings, especially those of such vulnerability. Besides, it was still early in their acquaintance. Was it so surprising she had not received an offer of marriage from him? He had never explicitly stated his feelings towards her…much to her di sappointment. He is reserved , she often reminded herself. And we are rarely, if ever, given privacy that would allow either of us to speak freely of matters of the heart.
However logical such notions were, love did not always make one the most rational, and she was disappointed that the status of their connexion was not more certain and that she could not have reasonable expectations of him.
Tired of being interrogated, she took one more sip of tea before hurriedly excusing herself, glad that Charlotte had duties to the parish that would keep her and Mr Collins occupied for the rest of the day. She squeezed her friend’s shoulder, grabbed an apple from the bowl on the sideboard in the dining room, and set out before Charlotte could reply.
Elizabeth set out on a favoured path, surprised by the wind that sent the ribbons of her bonnet dancing. The air was chillier than she had expected it to be. As she looked for the ideal tree to lean against to enjoy her apple, she thought of the last few weeks with Mr Darcy. She was certain of her feelings for him, but now rather wondered whether they were reciprocated. He did stare at her frequently; even Charlotte had noticed and pointed it out. He also made every attempt to be in close proximity to her. Nevertheless, she could not help but wonder whether she had let her heart create more in her mind than was truly there. How would she recover if that were the case?
She continued walking, her mind still fixed on such thoughts, when a figure appeared ahead in the distance: a man pacing back and forth in an agitated manner. It took her only a moment to realise it was none other than the man who had been lately occupying her thoughts.
Mr Darcy seemed to recognise her too, and so ceased his pacing, and walked in her direction. She could not help but hope and wonder if he had been waiting for her. As he came closer, she noticed that he seemed perturbed. “I was just taking some enjoyment in the lovely day, and was about to walk this path for the afternoon.”
“May I join you?” Every concern she had about his affections melted away when she saw the tender, earnest way he looked at her.
“Of course,” she replied.
Initially, they walked in silence. She stared up at him and admired his form and person, her pulse racing at the realisation that they would finally have privacy. “I could make some observations about the weather, but I will spare you of small talk that you have so ruthlessly told me you despised,” Elizabeth teased him lightly. Her effort was rewarded with a faint smile and a question.
“Well then, of what should we speak?”
Her mind was unusually slow, and she was thankful he did not seem to notice her clenching her hands at her side. She thought quickly of different topics before saying, “Please tell me of your childhood. What was it like in Derbyshire?”
As they walked, he described his upbringing, and his family’s estate, Pemberley. She began to relax as he talked. By his own stories, Elizabeth could tell Lady Catherine had not exaggerated the Darcys’ wealth; Pemberley was a grand and beautiful estate. Noting he spoke more of his studies and schooling than of typical youthful antics, Elizabeth wondered at what sort of happiness could be found in a childhood that was so structured and rigid. Mr Darcy mentioned that his mother had died a number of years ago and described his close bond with his younger sister, Georgiana. He spoke in great detail of his relationship with his father, asserting he was an excellent man who had shaped his character and understanding of the world. Then he added, “He will be here. Tomorrow. In the morning.”
“Indeed?” She looked at him with amazement. “I shall look forward to meeting him.”
“Yes, I would like the two of you to know each other.”
She nodded and looked away before he could see how she blushed.
Instead of continuing on the footpath, he stopped walking and touched her arm to get her attention. “May I take you on a different path to show you a place that is special to me?”
Looking down where his hand was touching her arm, she could only nod.
They turned onto the new trail. She looked up at Mr Darcy as they walked and considered how quickly life could change course in a few weeks. She had come to Kent expecting it to be very dull, and had quickly met the only man she could say that she had ever loved. Though initially tempted to categorise him as a proud, pompous man, the more time she spent with him she saw that this was not so. He was reserved and guarded, yes, but she had peeled back his layers and now saw the intelligent, humble, and kind-hearted man underneath. His aloofness and awkwardness were endearing, and she appreciated the things that made him imperfect instead of desiring him to be something else. Although the two of them were quite different in their approaches to life, never had she felt such excitement in speaking with another person. Her soul had met its intellectual equal, its other half.
He led her along the unfamiliar path. It was less domesticated than even the walk to Holly Hill and they were forced to tread slowly, which Elizabeth did not mind. It felt as though they were moving leisurely as they quietly walked under a canopy of trees. Other than the occasions they had danced together, their bodies had never been so near. She wondered what he would do if she brushed his fingertips when they were close to hers.
The terrain was a little different now as they walked, and they found themselves trudging through thick grass. He stopped without warning and looked at her seriously.
“Is this acceptable? We are very close to our destination, but I apologise I did not remember how wild it was out here.”
She smiled at his gentlemanly concern. “Yes, I assure you, it is no trouble.”
He nodded and they continued on as their path narrowed, and they were required to walk even closer. A large broken tree laid in front of them, blocking their narrow path. He walked ahead of her, and offered her his hand for assistance. She felt that familiar thrill inside when she took it. She lifted her leg to take the big step on top of the log and lowered it to step down again. Once on the other side, their hands remained clasped and their eyes locked. She inhaled sharply to collect herself as she quickly looked away and dropped her hand, even though she was not quite ready to let go.