Chapter VIII #2
“You are correct,” said Darcy, holding the hurt away, unwilling to allow it to take hold of him.
“But much of our rancor on that occasion was built upon misunderstanding. As you have said, yourself, you have sired an excellent daughter. I would be a most fortunate man if I could present myself to better advantage and earn her regard.”
His statement settled between them. “With that statement, you have proven you are far more than we might have thought, Mr. Darcy. I cannot speak to the state of Elizabeth’s feelings on the subject, but I declare you may be worthy of her.”
Darcy inclined his head, grateful for the other man’s support.
“Then there is nothing else to do but call Elizabeth in and discuss the subject with her. I know she exchanged words with Wickham before she departed; she may have information we do not possess.”
“By all means, sir,” said Darcy.
With a nod, Mr. Bennet pulled the bell cord, and when the servant appeared, instructed her to summon Miss Elizabeth to his bookroom.
In anticipation of her coming, Darcy did not much take part in the ensuing discussion, which consisted more of speculation than the exchange of facts.
All Darcy’s thoughts centered on Miss Elizabeth, on the bliss of being in her company again, regardless of the situation.
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Had Elizabeth not already had ample evidence of Mr. Wickham’s falsehoods and worthless character, meeting Georgiana Darcy would have put all his assertions in doubt.
Elizabeth would remember the exact words Mr. Wickham had used, how he had spoken of her affectionate nature as a child, which had given way to pride as an adolescent girl, “much like her brother.” While Elizabeth had espoused no great opinion of Mr. Darcy, understanding his sister’s character as consisting of an excess of shyness had been the work of only a moment.
Once she made that observation, it was easy to feel for the girl in the company of strangers and resolve to make her comfortable, regardless of the truth or falsehood of Miss Bingley’s assertions.
It was unfortunate, but putting that determination into practice proved most difficult, for drawing the girl out was no mean task.
Miss Darcy wished to make new friends, but did not know how, and possessed even less courage to make the attempt should she discover the means.
All Elizabeth’s coaxing had little effect, for while the girl paid them all every compliment of her attention, when it came time for her to speak, she fidgeted with the fabric of her dress or found her shoes more fascinating than the subject at hand.
“Your visit quite surprised us, Miss Darcy,” tried Elizabeth after all her other comments had received only monosyllabic answers.
This one drew nothing more, for the girl nodded and said something Elizabeth could not have made out had the girl whispered it in her ear.
“I had certainly never expected Mr. Darcy to pass through Meryton, for it is not even on the Great North Road.”
This time the girl’s response was a little louder, such that Elizabeth thought she heard her say: “We were not passing through.”
That suggested there was some purpose in their visit, and Elizabeth had not doubted it, given the gentlemen’s present position speaking with Mr. Bennet. With that encouraging answer, Elizabeth tried again.
“Have you stopped in Hertfordshire before?”
The girl shook her head and mumbled something about Bedfordshire, leading Elizabeth to suspect the Darcys usually broke their travel somewhere in that shire.
“Your brother has told me something of your home,” said Elizabeth. “As has my aunt, who lived for some time in Derbyshire, and still calls it the best of all counties.”
“That is true, Lizzy!” exclaimed Kitty. “Do you mean to stay in Hertfordshire for long?”
Annoyed with her sister’s untimely interruption—Miss Darcy had stirred a little at the question regarding her home—Elizabeth tried to warn Kitty away.
The girl, however, was intent upon Miss Darcy, clearly interested in making a friend.
It was entirely unfortunate that her outburst had the effect of freezing Miss Darcy’s tongue, such that the power of response failed her.
That was when Elizabeth decided there was little reason to provoke a response from the girl and settled for carrying the conversation herself between her sisters.
For a time, they spoke of the oncoming summer, the weather they had enjoyed, their recent doings, and other such subjects prevalent among those newly acquainted.
Kitty, it appeared, was eager to interject her observations, though she spoke of naught but bonnets, her appreciation for Georgiana’s dress, and her recent adventures with the officers until their departure.
Elizabeth attempted to catch her sister’s eye to warn her against a discussion of those men for fear she would mention Mr. Wickham, but Kitty would not be deterred.
Throughout all this discussion, Miss Darcy listened intently, though she said little.
The girl hardly even glanced at any of them, though her nods, the occasional slight smile, and even a giggle or two spoke to her concentration on the conversation.
Then Elizabeth made an observation that proved most providential, for it finally cracked the girl’s reserve if only a little.
“I understand you play, Miss Darcy, for a mutual acquaintance, Miss Bingley, informed us of your skill.” When Miss Darcy looked up, meeting Elizabeth’s eyes for only the second or third time, and the first time she had held her gaze, Elizabeth added: “Your brother also spoke of your skill on more than one occasion, though most of those comments he directed at your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
The mention of that lady almost undid the good of Elizabeth’s first comment, for she had not considered how a girl of Miss Darcy’s shy disposition might find a woman possessing the frankness of Lady Catherine intimidating.
Though the shadow fell over her face, Miss Darcy appeared to shake it off, giving Elizabeth a hesitant smile.
“I do love to play. But I should not claim any skill out of the common way.”
“Why, that will not do, Miss Darcy!” exclaimed Elizabeth, startling the girl a little. “By saying as much, you cast doubt on your brother’s probity; I have always considered him a truthful sort of man.”
Elizabeth grinned and leaned a little closer, saying in a softer tone: “Of Miss Bingley, I shall say nothing, for I am not privy to her motivations. But while an older brother may exaggerate the talents of a much younger, though beloved sister, I cannot think he would make it up from whole cloth.”
Miss Darcy giggled at Elizabeth’s irreverence and again lost a little of her reserve. “Miss Bingley does praise to excess. But you are correct—while I believe my brother is kinder to me than I deserve, he rarely exaggerates, preferring to tell only the absolute truth.”
“In that case, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “you are much to be envied, for he sounds like an excellent elder brother. As you can see, I have only four sisters, and no brother to protect my interests.”
Again the reserve fell over Miss Darcy, but she managed to say softly: “I should have liked a sister.”
“There are definite benefits to having sisters,” agreed Elizabeth. “Now, shall we return to the subject of music? I suspect it is dear to your heart.”
In Kitty’s obvious opinion, the subject Elizabeth had chosen was not an inspired one, for other than the obvious necessity for music to accompany one when dancing, she had little notion of or interest in it.
For Miss Darcy, however, the subject provoked greater pleasure than many others they might have chosen.
She did not approach Kitty or Lydia even at their most restrained, but she gave a good accounting of herself.
Mary, who always lost something of her reticence when discussing the pianoforte, joined in, offering her observations.
For a time, the three ladies spoke together, Jane adding a comment here or there, Kitty saying virtually nothing, while Mrs. Bennet watched over them all like a falcon over her hatchlings.
“What do you most like to play?” asked Mary after a time of this. “Do you have a favorite composer?”
“I am partial to Beethoven,” replied Georgiana after a moment’s thought. “Though I enjoy Mozart too. Bach is another particular favorite.”
“Bach?” asked Elizabeth, looking at her sister. “I do not believe I have heard of him.”
This set the girl to greater animation, for she appeared to feel all the distinction of the knowledge she possessed that no one else present could claim.
“Bach lived about the same time as Handel, though his popularity has not survived. Knowledge of Bach’s works is primarily the domain of scholars, though I have heard something of a recently published biography.
I hope it improves recognition of his genius, for his music is marvelous. ”
“I hope we have time this visit to hear you play something of his music, for you have quite intrigued me.”
That, it appeared, was the wrong thing to say, for the girl blushed scarlet from the edge of her decolletage to her hairline. “I rarely play for anyone other than my brother and cousin,” said she in a voice Elizabeth had to strain to hear.
“We shall not request it if you are uncomfortable,” replied Elizabeth, earning the girl’s grateful smile.
“But one as talented as to play the esteemed Mr. Bach, who compares favorably to Handel, must have more talent than I can boast.” Elizabeth gave her a conspiratorial smile and added: “Then again, I do not think it is a lack of talent from which I suffer, only the want of practice.”
“Oh, that is so!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. “Lizzy is so often traipsing about the estate or burying her nose in a book that she rarely takes the time to practice.”
While Elizabeth did not appreciate her mother’s comment—though there was a certain measure of truth in it—it did not deter Miss Darcy. Instead, she turned an appraising eye on Elizabeth, an action far bolder than any Elizabeth had yet seen from her.
“My brother wrote to me while he was in Hertfordshire, saying he had listened to you play and had rarely heard anything that gave him more pleasure.”
The gasp that followed Miss Darcy’s statement echoed Elizabeth’s surprise but had not issued from her lips. It was her mother, who now regarded Miss Darcy with wonder, though that swiftly changed to interest.
“Your brother wrote of Lizzy while he stayed at Netherfield?”
“More than once,” replied Miss Darcy, unaware of the chaos she was sowing with her words. “William mentioned Miss Elizabeth several times in his letters.”
There was no mistaking the sudden gleam in Mrs. Bennet’s eyes at this news, for she had ever had an excellent sense of when a gentleman possessed even a trace of interest in one of her daughters.
That she had proved no more adept than Elizabeth had herself at recognizing Mr. Darcy’s interest she put down to the gentleman’s inscrutable manners.
Of more immediate import to Elizabeth was the confirmation of Mr. Darcy’s longstanding attachment to her.
That it still existed was established by the gentleman’s presence in the county when she had been convinced he would avoid her as if she were diseased.
To bring his sister too, to introduce her to people he had disdained as unworthy only weeks before!
“I hope,” said Elizabeth, hoping to inject a little humor into the situation, “that Mr. Darcy was kind to me. As I recall, we engaged in some rather infamous debates early in our acquaintance, such that I believe I shocked him more than once.”
“If you did,” said Miss Darcy, “he wrote nothing of it.”
While her mother had been prepared to chastise Elizabeth—her mouth had opened in anticipation of that reprimand—Miss Darcy’s subsequent assertion quieted her.
Elizabeth could not help but wonder when her mother would find her voice again, but for the moment, she appeared pensive, attending to her thoughts rather than the conversation, though she was not oblivious.
It was unfortunate, for Elizabeth knew the matter of her mother’s sudden interest and the expectation that was almost certain to provoke would no doubt mortify her at the worst possible moment.
How it might have proceeded, Elizabeth could not say, for at that moment, Mrs. Hill entered the room. “Miss Elizabeth, your father has asked you to join him in the study.”
The previous conversation was so fresh in her mind, that Elizabeth was certain her mother’s fancy had jumped from the notion that Mr. Darcy might be interested in her straight to the expectation he had come to ask Mr. Bennet’s approval to marry her.
How she came to that conclusion Elizabeth could not say unless her mother thought it was common for a man to request the hand of a woman from her father with his cousin in attendance.
Again, Mrs. Bennet retained some measure of restraint, for which Elizabeth remained profoundly grateful.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hill,” said Elizabeth. “I shall go directly.”
The housekeeper excused herself and departed, but Elizabeth had already turned back to Miss Darcy. “I hope I shall return before long, Miss Darcy, for I have enjoyed our conversation.”
“As have I,” whispered Miss Darcy. Though her reticence had returned, her look informed her that she knew the reason for Elizabeth’s summons. Intrigued though she was, there was no opportunity to ask for clarification, not with her mother watching her every move.
“It appears I must go to my father. I hope you will excuse me.”
Elizabeth did not depart without looking to her sister, a silent plea to do her utmost to prevent Mrs. Bennet or Kitty from exposing them all to ridicule.
As acquainted with their mother as Elizabeth was, Jane understood her plea and nodded, apparently determined to ensure Miss Darcy’s opinion of them remained high.
Elizabeth had little confidence in Jane’s ability to rein her in, but in cases such as these there was no choice but to hope for the best. As such, she rose and excused herself, leaving the room.
She did not go to her father’s room at once, choosing instead to pause in the hallway and compose herself.
The thought had occurred to her that a reason Elizabeth had not yet guessed had provoked Mr. Darcy’s surprising appearance in Hertfordshire with his cousin and sister in tow, and Miss Darcy’s reaction appeared to give credence to that supposition.
As a curious woman, Elizabeth could not countenance a delay before assuaging her curiosity, such that she soon squared her shoulders and approached her father’s room.
When she had knocked and he called for her to enter, she turned the handle and opened the door.