Chapter 23
The next three days involved preparations for the journey to Hertfordshire and the upcoming wedding of Jane and Bingley. They planned to travel in a large party, with the Gardiners and Mr Wilson joining the Bennet sisters and the Bingley siblings.
The tension between Elizabeth and Mr Wilson went mostly unnoticed. Her major preoccupation was now Darcy, from whom she heard nothing.
While she struggled to be supportive for her sister, Elizabeth thought of little else but Darcy.
She wondered how he felt, what he was doing—hoping that he would come to visit them and provide another opportunity to speak.
But nothing of the kind happened, and her torment increased.
She asked Bingley about him but received no news.
Bingley, lost in his excitement about Jane and their wedding, had little interest in anything else, including his friend.
The day before their departure, in the afternoon, Darcy eventually called along with Colonel Fitzwilliam and—to everyone’s astonishment—with Anne de Bourgh. Anne confessed she wanted to take her farewell and to express her warm wishes to the soon-to-be newly-weds.
Wilson greeted them warmly, and Darcy responded with restrained politeness.
They stayed for only half an hour; Darcy spoke mostly to Mr and Mrs Gardiner and to Jane. Mr Wilson remained in a corner while Elizabeth shared only a few glances with Darcy and allowed herself to engage in conversation with Anne and the colonel.
When they were ready to leave, Darcy addressed Elizabeth for the first time. “Miss Bennet, I wish you a safe and pleasant journey home.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He stretched out his hand, and she briefly placed her hand in his palm. He squeezed it gently, the small gesture lingering enough to allow their eyes to meet.
“We hope to see you soon in Hertfordshire, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said daringly.
“I shall surely be there for Bingley’s wedding. I promised. And then I must return to Pemberley. Georgiana has been waiting a long time.”
“I understand…”
“Will you…your plans have not changed, I hope? You will come to Derbyshire this summer?” he inquired.
She blushed, delighted by his obvious interest. “Yes. At the beginning of June.”
“Perfect,” he replied.
His face was rather stern and aloof, and no smile brightened his dark gaze. But he held her hand in his longer than propriety allowed, and when he released it, their fingers brushed in a regretful goodbye.
Then he left—and so did she the very next morning, leaving London and her memories behind.
∞∞∞
Three carriages travelled to Hertfordshire, one of them carrying two resentful sisters unwilling to forgive their brother for his most disadvantageous marriage. They held a grudge against everybody, and when the others stopped briefly at an inn, they continued on.
The journey home was quick and pleasant for the others but stressful for Elizabeth.
Every mile took her further from Darcy, and with each passing moment, she felt his absence.
It was harder than usual for her to keep pace with the conversation and jokes that entertained her companions and even less so to pretend a cheerfulness she did not feel.
Happily, they soon reached their destination, and the familiar surroundings improved her spirits.
Longbourn burst with tears of joy, happy cries, and warm embraces at their arrival. Mrs Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia cried with happiness while Mary and Mr Bennet welcomed them with more moderation.
After so many months of distress and sadness and fears, the family was complete again with such a bright future ahead of them that Mrs Bennet could scarcely calm her nerves.
Mr Wilson was invited to stay at Netherfield, and he accepted, but neither gentleman was allowed to leave before they ate, drank, and answered Mrs Bennet’s countless questions.
They eventually were allowed to depart only to change clothes before returning for dinner; they spent most of their time at Longbourn in anticipation of the wedding.
From the first day of the family’s reunion, Longbourn became utter chaos, much to Mr Bennet’s despair. He stayed in the library with his brothers-in-law when he could, but the din of loud voices passed through walls.
Elizabeth had the joy of spending a little time with her father. She had missed the comfort and security he always provided; his mere presence calmed her.
However, she found little rest or peace. Sleep evaded her, and her thoughts were so filled with worries that she barely felt the joy that surrounded her.
Even worse, to her mortification, she found herself dreaming of Darcy in ways that never happened before.
She vividly recollected her sensations when their hands touched, when he whispered in her ear and his lips touched her skin, when he held her hands, and when they were close, their bodies touching in the secret room.
She remembered his scent, the line of his jaw, the locks of hair on his forehead, the twist of his lips, and the depth of his gaze when he stared at her.
She found herself overwhelmed by sensations she never experienced before, her rest disturbed by heat and chills that warred inside her.
Her appetite for food and joy was lost, her spirit defeated by longing.
Slowly, all the doubts about the nature of her feelings vanished.
Her mind cleared, and her heart opened. She missed him dearly; she not only admired and respected him, she wanted to see him again, to speak to him again. She wanted him.
He was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her—the man she had dreamed about her entire youth.
His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would answer all her wishes.
By her ease and liveliness, his mind would soften, his manners improve; and from his judgment, information, and knowledge of the world, she would benefit.
She needed him to be happy, and she hoped and prayed that he needed her as well and that nothing diminished his ardent love for her.
But she could not know with certainty since he preferred to stay away from her.
He would come for the wedding—and then she would know.
∞∞∞
The day of Jane Bennet’s wedding to Mr Bingley arrived in early May on a day as lovely as the bride.
The entire Meryton community gathered at the church and universally acknowledged that the happy couple made a perfect match.
There was not a man more handsome or more amiable than Mr Bingley, nor was there a more beautiful woman with a sweeter disposition than Jane Bennet.
Their mutual affection was so apparent that it brought a smile to every face.
Elizabeth awaited the wedding day almost as nervously as Jane.
She knew she would finally meet Darcy once more, a fortnight since the maddening day that had changed their lives.
His pained voice, his furious words, his spite towards his relatives and Wilson, and his reproaches for their betrayal resounded vividly in her mind.
His withdrawal from their company during her final days in London was proof that he opposed any interaction with her family. At times, she wondered whether he thought she was somehow to blame for Mr Wilson’s plan. She dismissed the notion several times, but it continually returned to trouble her.
She could not bear to know that he lived somewhere in the world and thought ill of her, even if he was wrong.
She had expected him to arrive in the evening before the wedding, but he did not, and she feared he had changed his mind.
Instead, she saw him arrive at the church with Bingley, and the weight on her chest lightened a bit.
He greeted her warmly, held her hand for a brief moment, inquired after her health, and conveyed the best regards of the colonel and Anne.
Then Darcy was quickly surrounded by others—Sir William, Lady Lucas, Mrs Philips, her father and mother—all of whom were pleasantly surprised to see him.
Once Wickham’s true character had been discovered, Mr Darcy’s faults had diminished accordingly.
Further, Sir William and then Mr Bennet expressed their appreciation to Mr Darcy so eloquently that there could be nothing left except general admiration.
With everyone, Mr Bennet shared Mr Darcy’s positive influence on Bingley’s re-acquaintance with Jane, and Mrs Bennet lost not a single moment in showing him due deference.
To all, he responded with such warm amiability that he astonished the crowd.
He congratulated Mrs Bennet for her daughter’s wedding, greeted Sir William with familiarity, and expressed his pleasure at being in Meryton again.
In half an hour, he spoke more than in all the time he had spent in Hertfordshire last autumn, raising great praise for his behaviour and handsome features that were heightened by his charming smile.
Mr and Mrs Gardiner approached Darcy, and they spoke for a while. Mr Wilson only saluted him briefly but kept a respectable distance.
Except for some shared glances, Elizabeth had few opportunities to speak to him.
In the church, while standing by Bingley’s side, Darcy looked at her several times. She thought she noticed a trace of a timid smile—more in his eyes than on his lips—but she could not be certain.
Her heart secretly told her that his altered manners were a sign of his consideration for her, that he wanted to show her how much he had changed since he was last there. But her mind forbade her assuming too much.
She patiently waited for the ceremony to be over, hoping they would be able to speak more during the wedding breakfast, perhaps even take a stroll in the garden.
She moved a few steps away, allowing some distance between herself and the rest of the party, watching him in the midst of so many people. He was still uncomfortable and clearly not at ease, but he tried to bear the commotion bravely. She smiled, and he responded with a slight twist of his lips.