Chapter 32
They had barely spoken in the two weeks since their argument.
Elizabeth blushed fiercely and avoided Darcy’s eyes when they met and claimed weariness each night instead of coming down for dinner.
She spent most of her time with Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds.
In turn, Darcy had buried himself in the household accounts.
Putting a closed door between them felt like a good way to ease the tension from the air.
As Mrs. Reynolds had suggested, Darcy had not pressed Elizabeth for her company.
He understood that his wife was not angry, but embarrassed.
He could see her remembering their feverish night together every time their eyes accidentally met.
As the days passed her blushes faded, but she still could not meet his eyes.
Recalling things which she had admired during their honeymoon, Darcy sent away for every gift he could think of.
Once they were delivered, he realised his mistake.
Showering Elizabeth with expensive gifts would not make her happy, it would simply make her uncomfortable.
Even the modest things he had given her before, like her necklace, had only ever made her blush and mumble. She was already embarrassed enough!
Grand gestures thus discarded, Darcy turned his mind to more personal gifts.
He asked Mrs. Reynolds what Elizabeth liked, but would never ask for.
The woman thought for a long time and then replied that Mrs. Darcy often spoke to Georgiana about her beautiful harp.
They had cleaned it and brought it up to Georgiana’s bedroom, where it shone in the light of the large window. It had been tuned but never touched.
Sometimes, when Elizabeth mentioned the instrument, Georgiana’s large, slow eyes drifted over to the harp and lingered there.
Darcy immediately arranged for Elizabeth to have lessons with Georgiana’s old music master, a wizened old Russian called Mr. Kozlov.
After travelling the world to spread beautiful music, the man’s hands had finally seized up with arthritis.
Rather than abandon the art forever, he taught a few select students.
Georgiana had been his first and (as he often said) his greatest. Darcy always suspected that Kozlov said that about all of his students, but he enjoyed the proud smile that Georgiana wore when her instructor praised her.
Kozlov was not thrilled about teaching an absolute beginner, but Darcy paid him a generous sum to change his outlook.
He also purchased a second harp, so there was no need to move Georgiana’s back downstairs.
Darcy knew that Elizabeth’s favourite room was Lady Anne’s cosy library, so that was where the harp was set up (secretly, in the dead of night, so that she might discover it for herself.
Darcy was bad at choosing gifts but had at least a flair for presentation).
Darcy did not go to see Elizabeth’s reaction.
He longed to see her smile, but he did not want to make things awkward and darken what he wanted to be a beautiful moment.
For an hour he heard tentative notes ringing out, and then Kozlov arrived for his daily lesson.
Elizabeth learned a few cautious scales and a simple folk piece which gradually became more confident.
She practiced for a long time after her teacher left.
Darcy sat in his study with his eyes closed, drinking in the soft pleasure of hearing music in Pemberley once more.
That evening Mrs. Reynolds brought him a note. It was in Elizabeth’s writing, and just a few teasing words: All angels have harps, do they not? Thank you, sir.
“There is something else, sir.” the housekeeper said, smiling when he put the note down, “When Miss Darcy heard the harp being played, sir… she smiled.”
“Smiled!”
“Only for a moment, sir, and you had to look to see it - but yes, sir! We must urge Mrs. Darcy to keep playing, sir.”
“I do not think she will need much encouragement.” Darcy laughed, hearing the scales starting up again already.
After that gesture their relationship was an odd mixture of warmth and embarrassment.
It was as if there were two conversations going on: one, where they were pleasant and enjoyed seeing each other (from a respectable distance).
Another, where they could not summon a single word when they passed each other in the hallway.
As became a habit, they smiled ruefully at each other and then went their separate ways.
That was why it was a surprise for Elizabeth to come to Darcy’s study. Nonetheless she appeared, creeping in with a nervous knock and standing awkwardly beside the door.
At once, Darcy’s documents were forgotten.
Elizabeth was dressed in a soft blue gown.
Her hair was caught up in simple curls, and the necklace he had given her gleamed around her throat.
Why hadn’t he noticed that she still wore her necklace?
She used to fiddle with it when they were together, especially when she tried to hide her blushes.
Darcy had thought that she would have taken it off, since they were not on speaking terms, but now that he thought about it, he could not remember seeing her wearing anything else.
Darcy stood up, smiling. He had only taken two steps towards the shadowed door before he realised that she was crying. His sweet angel was shivering, and her eyes shone.
Darcy darted forward and took her hands. “Elizabeth, what is the matter? Sit down.”
The fire was burning brightly. Elizabeth walked with numb sleepwalker’s steps and sat down.
Her hands were icy. A piece of paper was clutched so tightly in one that her knuckles were trembling.
Darcy gently eased it from her grasp, unfolding it, but waited for Elizabeth’s feeble nod before he read it.
A few sentences were enough to explain Elizabeth’s tears. They made Darcy’s stomach churn. He read the letter three times, gritting his teeth. Curse the damnably persistent Collins and curse his greedy minion! He could not think of a single woman who disgusted him more than Mrs. Bennet.
“Mama is right.” Elizabeth choked, interrupting his furious thoughts, “She got what she wanted from you. Now she can do as she pleases.”
“I detect Collins’s hand in this. As Jane says, he is a slippery man. My aunt always said he was a conniving creature. It amused her, but it does not amuse me. I thought he would be too much in awe of her to cross me this way.”
“We insulted him. Mr. Collins is a proud man, and not one to suffer such an injury to his pride.”
Darcy groaned and rubbed his temples. “Why does your father not intervene? He, at least, is an honourable man.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and lowered her voice, as if she was sharing a disgraceful secret.
“In truth, my father has become more concerned with his estate than with the happiness of his daughters. He is unwell, sir. Not dangerously so, but enough to make him afraid for the future. He made little provision for us, and now his whole family is like to be cast out of his home. Jane’s marriage would have kept Longbourn in the family.
It is not my father’s name, of course, but at least the lineage… ”
“I see.” Darcy interrupted. He had seen plenty of proud families making similar matches. The words they used were always the same: safety, security, blood…
He could not see Mr. Bennet turning away from the same path, now that he was on it.
From what Elizabeth had told him, her father had been trapped into an unhappy marriage himself.
A future where his daughters were married would satisfy him; he believed that felicity was not required.
After all, had he not allowed Elizabeth to marry for convenience?
“I am sorry that you married me for nothing.” Elizabeth whispered, once more reading his thoughts. Her tears began anew. Darcy wrapped his arms around her at once, drawing her head against his shoulder.
I did not marry you for nothing. I loved you, even then. He thought, but he could not say it. Not now, when she might think he was lying to comfort her. So instead, he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead in tender silence.
When Elizabeth was a little calmer, Darcy eased her away and held her shoulders so that he could look seriously into her eyes.
“When did this letter arrive, Elizabeth?”
“This morning.” she sniffed, “Jane dated it on Friday past.”
“Good, then we still have time.”
Elizabeth looked at him, tearfully bewildered, “Time for what?”
“We shall get your sister away from Longbourn at once. Mr. Collins cannot propose if she is not there.”
She shook her head helplessly, “Mama will not allow it. She has her heart set against us. She will not listen to anything we suggest. Besides, Mr. Collins may arrive before we do. It seems that Jane has resigned herself to accepting his offer, which he will doubtless make without delay. We will be too late.”
“The letter took four days on the post, yes, but we can send a much faster reply. I shall write to Bingley.”
“Bingley? Your friend from Netherfield Park?”
“The very same. He has two sisters who are very good at getting their own way. He must convince them that they want Jane’s company above all things - if he does, then they are sure to get it.
They can pretend a deep attachment to her, and then the Bingleys can bring her to us.
I will warn you, though, that they are not pleasant company.
Your sister may find her patience sorely tested. ”
Lizzie shook her head again. “Mama will never agree. She is days away from securing a proposal, and she knows it. Why would she let Jane leave?”
“Days mean nothing if your sister does not agree. Until she accepts Mr. Collins’ offer, there is nothing your mother can do.
Jane is of age and can make her own decisions.
She is only faltering because she feels she must obey.
Your mother’s complacency is because she believes that Jane is on the point of surrender.
You must write to your sister without delay. ”
“What good will one more letter do? She has been fighting this for so long. I cannot urge her to keep going.”
“No. You must tell her to accept.” Darcy caught Lizzie’s cheek, stroking it soothingly when she let out a strangled cry.
“Trust me, Elizabeth. Once she is away from your mother, we can be less duplicitous, but for now it is vital that we raise your mother’s hopes.
Jane must tell Mrs. Bennet that she accepts Mr. Collins on the condition that she can visit with her friends and family once more.
Once your sister is out of your mother’s reach, we can protect her. Will your mother believe her?”
“Mama is gullible,” Lizzie said, slow hope rising in her chest, “It will be what she wants to hear, but if Jane makes that promise, she must abide by it.”
“Why? If your mother can break her word, then so can Jane.”
Darcy smiled vengefully at that thought, but the anger in his words had finally broken free. His voice was a snarl. He expected Elizabeth to flinch away, as she always did when he lost his temper. Instead, she threw her arms around his back and hugged him so tightly that her slender arms trembled.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and rained kisses on his cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I shall write to Jane at once.”
“And I to Bingley.” Darcy promised. Her affection had made a strange melancholy feeling pool in his stomach. He kissed her cheek gently in reply, then eased her back. “Elizabeth, will you smile at me again? I have missed it. I have missed you.”
She let out a shaky laugh, wiped her eyes, and nodded. “And I missed you. I would like to be friends again, sir.”
“When your sister is safe, my angel, we can be whatever you like.” he promised, and then kissed her properly, drawing her so close that he could feel her heart racing.
When he let her go, Elizabeth was smiling. It was everything Darcy had wished for.
“Now go,” he said, “We have work to do.”