Chapter VII #2
While Lydia glared at her mother, betrayal in her eyes, she possessed some knowledge that told her to protest would serve her ill.
Thus, trying to appear unconcerned but with little more than a flounce, she left the room, the sounds of her heavy tread on the stairs speaking to her displeasure.
The silence left in her wake after she slammed her door was a welcome reprieve.
“That child will be the death of me,” muttered Mrs. Bennet, again surprising them all.
Then the world turned upside down. On the heels of Lydia’s departure, the door opened, and Mrs. Hill led two gentlemen and a lady into the room.
The ladies started and stared, for the gentleman in the lead was none other than Mr. Darcy, and while he was the only member of the party known to them all, Elizabeth also knew Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The lady, she assumed was Miss Georgiana Darcy, a surprise as Elizabeth had never supposed Mr. Darcy would expose his sister to such people as the Bennets of Longbourn.
“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, for once forgetting her antipathy for the man in her surprise. “What a surprise it is to see you here.”
“I apologize for coming unannounced, Mrs. Bennet,” said the gentleman, appearing distinctly uncomfortable. “I know it is an imposition.”
It was of no surprise to anyone the direction Mrs. Bennet’s thoughts tended. “Of course, you are welcome, sir. Has Mr. Bingley accompanied you?”
Elizabeth noticed Jane’s reaction when her mother raised the subject of the absent gentleman, for her sister appeared quite distressed at the notion of seeing him yet again. Mr. Darcy, it appeared, also noticed it, though his response again took a path Elizabeth might not have expected in advance.
“No, mum, for Bingley is in the north visiting his family.”
Jane and Mrs. Bennet alike appeared crestfallen at the news, but then Mr. Darcy spoke again.
“Before he left London, Bingley and I spoke. I expect that when he returns from York, he will come to Hertfordshire, for he spoke of wishing to see to the estate.”
Mrs. Bennet’s countenance lit up at the notion, though it appeared Jane did not know what to think. As she could not summon the words, the right of response fell to Mrs. Bennet, and for a wonder, she did not embarrass them all with some exclamation.
“We should be happy to welcome him again, Mr. Darcy, for he is an excellent gentleman.”
With a nod, Mr. Darcy gestured to his companions. “Might I introduce my relations to you?”
“Of course,” fluttered Mrs. Bennet, her flightiness coming over her again. “We should be happy to make their acquaintance.”
With a smile, Mr. Darcy introduced his cousin, then confirmed Elizabeth’s conjecture that the young woman was his sister.
Those newly introduced stated their pleasure and exchanged bows and curtseys, and then they sat down to visit.
The scene was so surreal, Elizabeth thought to pinch herself to ensure she was awake.
Yet, Mr. Darcy accepted her mother’s invitation to sit, and if Colonel Fitzwilliam carried most of the conversation, Mr. Darcy did not remain silent.
Georgiana Darcy was another matter, for while she wished to contribute, it was clear she lacked the courage to do so.
“Your coming is the greatest surprise,” said Mrs. Bennet, as if she had not already made a similar comment at least three or four times already. “And to come without Mr. Bingley!”
The Bennet matron’s eyes narrowed as she regarded them. “Do you mean to stay long, or are you simply passing through?”
“We shall stay at least a few days,” said Mr. Darcy.
“I have some little knowledge of the neighborhood,” added Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Though I have never stayed in Meryton, I have passed through several times in my journeys as part of the army. You have a lovely little community here, Mrs. Bennet.”
Mrs. Bennet preened as if he had just complimented her particularly. “It is,” said she. “Though we have naught but four and twenty families with whom to dine, I believe we all get on well together.”
“I remember your hospitality in the autumn,” interjected Mr. Darcy. “I know my friend felt your welcome too.”
It had long been Mrs. Bennet’s opinion that Mr. Darcy was a man lacking in the social graces; not long ago, Elizabeth would have agreed with her mother.
The information he had imparted to her had softened her opinion of him, but the notion of Mr. Darcy showing an amiable—or perhaps only civil—side of him was a foreign notion.
The topic, however, was an inspired one, for Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Bennet spoke of the neighborhood for several minutes, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth adding comments here and there, while everyone else said little.
“If I may,” said Mr. Darcy after some time of this, “there is a matter of business we must raise with your husband, and we should likely come to the point. Is Mr. Bennet available to see us?”
Mrs. Bennet regarded him as if she could not believe her ears. “You wish to speak to Mr. Bennet.”
“If he will consent to speak to us,” said Mr. Darcy.
While Mrs. Bennet’s eyes darted to each of her daughters in turn, no matter how she interpreted his request it could not speak to an interest in one of them.
The mere thought was ridiculous, for a man did not bring his cousin when he approached another with a request of courtship or engagement in mind.
It was fortunate to Elizabeth’s way of thinking that Mrs. Bennet did not dwell on the matter for long, for it would have become evident where her thoughts tended if Mr. Darcy had not already recognized it.
“I am sure Mr. Bennet will be pleased to speak with you,” said her mother. “Lizzy, will you take the gentleman to your father’s study?”
Elizabeth nodded her assent and rose, beckoning the gentlemen to follow her. Inside, however, she was wondering how she might induce them to impart the purpose of their presence. This business of wishing to speak to Mr. Bennet suggested something more than a mere social call.
When she stepped through the door and closed it behind her, she turned a demanding look on them, tapping her foot while watching them, hands upon her hips. “This visit of yours is shocking, Mr. Darcy. Do you care to tell me why you are here?”
The gentlemen looked at her and burst into chuckles. As Elizabeth regarded them with no little asperity, Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped forward and took her hand, bowing over it.
“I have missed your company, Miss Bennet, for I truly enjoyed our conversations.”
“That does not constitute an explanation.”
“No, I suppose it does not,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, still shaking with the effort of restraining his laughter. “Darcy, did you wish to take this explanation on yourself?”
“It would be best if we spoke to your father first, Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman, not satisfying Elizabeth’s curiosity in the slightest.
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, fixing him with a glare.
“It has nothing to do with . . . that,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing distinctly uncomfortable. Colonel Fitzwilliam by his side snorted and again tried to restrain his laughter. “Surely you know I would never put you in such a position.”
Elizabeth regarded him and felt her pique fade ever so slightly. “No, I do not suppose you would. But you still have not explained the reason for your visit. I do not believe this notion that you were simply passing through.”
“No, it is more complicated than that,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “It is truly a matter we must discuss with your father first. Then I am certain he will wish to speak to you, so you shall know all before long.”
Finally, Elizabeth capitulated, knowing there was no good reason to hold them hostage to her curiosity. “I shall expect the summons.”
“Very well.” Mr. Darcy paused and threw her an embarrassed look. “Can I ask you to see to my sister? Georgiana is very shy, and cannot be comfortable in a room full of strangers.”
“Am I not a stranger too?” asked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow at him.
“You are,” said Mr. Darcy. He paused, gathered his courage, and added: “Georgiana specifically wished to travel with us to make your acquaintance. I know your mother and sisters will welcome her with open arms, but it would make her easier if you were to work your magic on her.”
“She came to see me?” asked Elizabeth, surprised at the notion.
“She did,” confirmed Mr. Darcy. “I . . . spoke of you, and she has been eager to make your acquaintance ever since.”
Elizabeth felt her eyebrows climb her head at his admission. “You did? I might not have thought you would speak of me to her, given the manner of our parting.”
“I spoke of you long before that.” At Elizabeth’s impatience, the gentleman added: “Do you recall our conversation at Netherfield when I was writing my sister? I mentioned something of our exchanges to her.”
“That was not the only time, as I understand it,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth, however, did not pay any attention to the second gentleman, focused as she was on his companion. “You spoke of me to your sister.”
“Is it unusual for a man to write of his doings when away from his family? Georgiana is my family.”
It was a logical suggestion, and one Elizabeth did not believe for a moment.
While she had considered Mr. Darcy devoid of any proper feeling and his proposal had not improved her opinion, she could now truthfully say that his letter had overthrown much of her perception of him.
Her initial judgment that he would quickly learn to regard her rejection of his suit with relief appeared to be the grossest falsehood, for it was clear he had regarded her favorably as early as those days at Netherfield.
Elizabeth could think of no other reason he might have mentioned her to his sister, regardless of his claims of writing of his doings.
She doubted, for example, that he ever wrote of Miss Bingley to his sister.
“I suppose you must be correct,” said Elizabeth, not wishing to voice her suspicions aloud. She did not yet know what to think of them.
“Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, appearing distinctly uncomfortable, “but might I assume you read my letter?”
Elizabeth glanced at the colonel, wondering that Mr. Darcy was being so open before his cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled at her and nodded his understanding.
“Darcy has informed me of the matter. Do not suppose I blame you for rejecting his suit, for he has told me enough to understand that it was not the best proposal.”
“Yes, I read it, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth paused, seeing he wished to ask her what she thought of it. “It was hard, I will own, to read such words of my family, though much of what you said is the truth. You misjudged my sister, but I understand why you did it. As for Mr. Wickham . . .”
Blushing, Elizabeth could not help but look away. Soon, however, her courage came to her rescue, and she dared to peek back at the gentlemen.
“I was nothing less than blind when I accepted his charges without question. You need speak no further on that score, for I do not question your account.”
That Mr. Darcy and his cousin regarded each other suggested that she had said something to give them concern.
Perhaps their reason for coming concerned the officer, though Elizabeth had no notion of any matter concerning Mr. Wickham that might involve the Bennets.
The moment passed, and they turned their attention back to her.
“Thank you for your trust, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy.
“I can add my testimony to Darcy’s,” added Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I have been aware of Darcy’s every dealing with Wickham.”
“Then I thank you for your assurance,” said Elizabeth. “Now, I believe you wish to speak with my father.”
At their confirmation, Elizabeth turned and led them the short distance to her father’s door.
When she rapped on the solid wood, her father called out permission to enter, which Elizabeth did with alacrity, leading the two gentlemen into the room.
While Mr. Bennet’s first reaction was idle interest, he was soon as shocked by the sight of Mr. Darcy as Elizabeth had been only a short time before.
“Papa,” said Elizabeth, “Mr. Darcy and his cousin have asked to speak to you.”
“Very well, Elizabeth,” said Mr. Bennet. “You may leave us.” He paused and grinned at her, adding: “But you may wish to stay nearby. Given the grim countenances of these gentlemen, I suspect I might wish for your counsel before long.”
“Of course, Papa,” said Elizabeth.
Her last sight as she departed, was the level look Mr. Darcy gave her, accompanied by an almost imperceptible nod. As Elizabeth let herself from the room, she wondered how soon they might call for her attendance.
There was little enough reason to loiter about in the hall waiting for the summons, and Elizabeth determined to use her time better.
Miss Darcy, she saw upon reentering the sitting-room, appeared ill at ease in the company of her family, though Jane was making a valiant attempt to draw her out.
Elizabeth’s heart melted at the sight of her sister giving this shy young girl her attention, the same girl Miss Bingley had set up as Jane’s rival for Mr. Bingley’s affections.
Thus, Elizabeth stepped into the room, resolved to do her part. Georgiana Darcy was a girl well worth knowing.