Chapter 22 #2
It was not precisely an enjoyable evening.
Mrs Bennet greeted Darcy coldly then paid him no heed for the rest of the evening.
Mr Bennet disregarded him completely, turning his face when Darcy attempted to greet him.
They were delighted with their daughter though, and even Mr Bennet got a tear in his eye as he embraced her.
Mrs Bennet focused on apprising Elizabeth of all the latest Meryton gossip, followed by a quick appraisal of Elizabeth’s gown, which she thought was quite fine.
She showed relatively little curiosity in Elizabeth’s past circumstances, a concession for which Elizabeth was grateful.
She had only a brief bit of interest in Bennet, but pulled Elizabeth aside to hiss into her ear, “Well done, my girl, you have given him his heir, now you do not need to do anything for him that you do not wish.” Elizabeth sighed in response.
Thereafter, Mrs Bennet had only one thing to discuss—Jane.
She effused about the neighbourhood’s delight in Jane as mistress of Netherfield and the prettiness of Jane’s children.
From her conversation, Elizabeth had to conclude that her mother did not yet know of the Bingleys’ planned move to Derbyshire.
She gave her sister a look, but Jane only blushed and looked away sheepishly.
The discomfort continued at the dinner table.
Laden with delicious food, it was not, however, overburdened with an excess of good manners.
Elizabeth glanced at her husband uneasily several times, as he would attempt to join the conversation only to be disregarded or spoken over.
He bore it graciously but eventually fell silent.
Elizabeth would have liked for her family to treat him a bit kindlier; to witness them treating him badly raised her sympathy for him, and she did not wish for that.
It was Lydia who eventually came to the rescue. “Papa, Mr Rollings has written you several times.”
“Rollings? I cannot say I know the fellow.”
“He is a friend of Darcy’s, and he wants to marry me!” Over Mrs Bennet’s squeals, Lydia began a recitation of Jolly’s fortune and connexions, along with a description of his house in Dorset.
Mr Bennet bore it calmly, saying only, “Friend of Darcy’s, is he? Not much of a recommendation for me.”
“Papa,” Elizabeth said, turning to him in exasperation. “Please.”
Mr Bennet only sniffed and turned back to Lydia. “Well, if this Mr Rollings has a fondness for silly girls, who am I to stop him? Lydia, tell your young fellow I shall not be any impediment.”
When the ladies withdrew after dinner, Mr Bennet stood also, motioning Darcy to accompany him to his study.
Darcy followed but not without some trepidation.
Mr Bennet shut the door behind them and offered Darcy some port, which he accepted, thinking he would likely need it for whatever Elizabeth’s father wished to say.
The two men settled into club chairs located by the bookshelves.
Mr Bennet was silent for a moment, thoughtfully regarding his port. Darcy waited patiently for him to begin.
“I am very happy that you have brought Elizabeth back here, Mr Darcy. I cannot tell you how I have longed to see her and how many bleak hours I have passed believing she was lost to me forever.” Mr Bennet took a sip of the port. “Tell me, sir, what are your plans?”
“My plans?”
“Yes, your plans. Will you return to your estate and avoid London? Will you return to town and pretend nothing ever happened? Do you intend to send her off again? I only wish to understand what happens now.” Mr Bennet sounded impatient and slightly vexed.
“My hopes are to regain my wife’s forgiveness and trust, and my plans are to do whatever I can towards that purpose.”
Mr Bennet snorted quietly. “You cannot think it will be so easy, Mr Darcy.”
“I already know the difficulties I face, sir.”
Mr Bennet studied Darcy closely. When he spoke, his tone was without malice, but the words were harsh enough without it.
“As you are well aware, I was not in favour of this marriage. I was very concerned by the haste with which you insisted on marrying her and utterly destroyed by the speed with which you sent her away and lost her. Nothing has happened in the intervening years to make me think you are in any way a young man worthy of my daughter.”
Darcy spoke quietly and without challenge. “Whether I am worthy or not, Elizabeth is my wife and the mother of my son and heir. I know I have erred greatly, but I do still love her ardently and hope to one day regain her love in return.”
Mr Bennet leant across his desk. “A woman, any woman, yields up a great deal when she marries. Everything is entrusted into the care of a man—her heart, her soul, her everything. You, sir, broke the trust, and in my estimation, this must be your primary object now. You might earn her love, but if you do not have her trust, it will be for naught.”
He stood, clearly intending to quit the room, and Darcy rose with him.
However, Mr Bennet was not finished and delivered one parting blow.
“I know my daughter, and her feelings are clear to me. Although legally she is yours—and she knows, as much as I, that there is little she can do about that—her heart in no way belongs to you. It did once, but it is there no more. I hope you can reclaim it, but I doubt that very strongly.”
With that, he walked from the room, not caring to see whether Darcy followed him.
The night ended soon thereafter. Elizabeth was tired from their travels, and despite the two-year absence, spending the night immersed in her mother’s silliness was wearing.
She herself was to blame; she was no longer able to tolerate the utter foolishness and noise of Longbourn like she once had.
It was hard to give significance to conversation of gowns, ribbons, and lace and tales of Lady Lucas and Mrs Long, not when she had such weighty concerns in her head.
Furthermore, her parents’ behaviour towards her husband deeply embarrassed her. Mrs Bennet sat in the corner with Lydia, criticising every syllable from Darcy’s lips, until Lydia said, with discomfort, “Mama, he will hear you.”
“I do not care if he does hear me!” Mrs Bennet proclaimed stridently, and Lydia kindly and adeptly turned the conversation to some fabric she saw at the modiste’s in Meryton.
Elizabeth reflected on what an odd turn of events it was to rely on Lydia to maintain a standard of good manners and decorum.
Did her parents not realise that their loyalty, while admirable, did not help her?
As they said goodnight later that evening, Elizabeth said to her husband, “My parents were very rude to you tonight. I am sorry for that.”
“I am surprised they received me, if you must know,” he said. “It was far less than I deserved.”
“I do not agree with that.”
“Elizabeth, I took you from them. They did not know whether they would ever see you again. I have only known Bennet a very short time, yet if someone took him from me, I do not think I could be held responsible for all I did to that person.”
I did take him from you. She did not speak it aloud.
Bingley met up with Elizabeth the next morning as she walked out early. It was not his habit to rise early—neither his nor Jane’s—so she was quite startled when he suddenly appeared wearing his hat and looking as if it were already mid-day. “May I join you?”
“Of course.”
They set out along the path towards the maze, quietly talking about nothing in particular. “Will it upset Kitty that her younger sister will marry first?” Bingley asked.
“Kitty cannot long bear to be outdone by Lydia in any circumstance. The next man who seems good enough will do for her.”
Bingley chuckled. “So speaking of sisters…”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Which? We have a great many of them between us.”
“Caroline,” said Bingley.
Oh yes. Her.
“It grieves me, what she has done to you and Darcy.”
“What she did could have been of no consequence had not Mr Darcy made it so.”
“While I do own that is true,” Bingley said, his blue eyes bright with earnestness, “nevertheless, it was cruel and unfeeling.”
“Far be it from me to shock you,” replied Elizabeth with a smile, “but Caroline is not known for sweet temper nor her charitable nature.”
“This is true. But I wished to assure you that our fealty is to you. Caroline’s home is in Scarborough now, with our aunt.”
“You sent her away?”
“Not exactly. But she was offered the chance to make amends and…well, she scarcely did right by it. So she was told she could not live with either Louisa or me until she did.”
“I see.” It was curious to Elizabeth, this lack of antipathy she had towards a woman who had wished her ill, whose actions had played a significant role in her estrangement from her husband.
But the fact of it was, she scarcely cared about Miss Bingley.
Let her rot in Scarborough or London or wherever else she might fall, it really did not signify.
Bingley said, “I just wanted to assure you, and also to beg your vow in one matter.”
“What is that?”
He stopped walking then and turned towards her, taking both of her hands in his. “Darcy has changed quite a bit, and I daresay he has learnt his lesson in this. However, should you ever find yourself in difficulty again…”
“Oh!” Elizabeth gave a weak chuckle of dismay at the very notion.
“Any sort of problem, you will come to me. Do you promise? I shall not release you until you do!” He gave her a fond brotherly look but underneath it was the kindest of intentions. He was serious, and it made her realise there was far more to this Bingley than she had previously known.
She nodded. “I promise. And I thank you.”