Chapter 3
The longer Elizabeth spent at Pemberley, the more perplexed she felt.
The grounds and house were truly impressive, and, as large as it was, she was comfortable in Mr Darcy’s home.
That was perhaps the most remarkable thing that had occurred since their recent meeting.
Yet, she could not deny that she felt unexpectedly easy here.
While everything about her spoke of the owner’s wealth—from the furnishings to the number of beeswax candles on the broad mahogany dining table—it was not at all ostentatious, and his family was delightful and inviting.
She kept a close watch on her aunt, wanting to know that Mrs Gardiner was being treated kindly, despite her lower position in the world—and she was.
While they ate, Elizabeth heard enough of her conversation with Frederick Darcy to know that they were agreeably engaged in sharing reminiscences about their youths in Derbyshire.
Miss Pratt was happily occupied chatting with them or the viscount and Rebecca Darcy.
As for herself, she sat between Freddie Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam; Mr Darcy and his sister were nearby.
Even earlier, when they were in the drawing room, Elizabeth realised how altered Mr Darcy’s manner was in comparison to what she was used to seeing in Hertfordshire.
Here, surrounded by people he knew well, he was far more open and willing to talk, less haughty and stiff.
It excuses nothing, she privately insisted.
His behaviour was abominable. Rude and inconsiderate, and his treatment of poor Mr Wickham— That brought up another cause for her uncertainty.
She had believed everything that gentleman had told her and had pitied him.
But being in Derbyshire, where he and Mr Darcy had grown up, she was less convinced of his truthfulness, despite how he had looked and sounded as he recounted his tale.
Lately, she had heard both praise for Mr Darcy and hints that Mr Wickham was not well thought of, and not only by Miss Pratt.
Although he was seldom named, Elizabeth had no reason to doubt that he was the young man people meant.
The food was delicious and plentiful, and she enjoyed the company.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Freddie were both delightful, and she would not object to seeing them again.
She would also say the same of the others—except Mr Darcy, which ought to make her ashamed, given how welcoming he was being.
It was just that she did not like how seeing him, even just hearing his voice, left her insides twisted into tight knots.
Because I do not know what to make of him.
I attempted to sketch his character this autumn and failed, and still, I do not know.
Am I a coward to run away from the task of trying to understand him, which might require me to abandon my previous beliefs?
Or shall I find my courage and confront the matter as an adult?
She would like to say the second would prove true, yet later in the evening, when Rebecca insisted that Elizabeth must join them as often as possible in the coming days, she wanted to refuse and hide, all so that she need not see Mr Darcy again.
“We have talked of several excursions, depending on the weather,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “As well as how we might amuse ourselves at Pemberley. Do you skate?”
“I do,” she admitted.
“Excellent!” Lord Bramwell said, clapping his hands. “Miss Bennet, I agree with Rebecca and my brother, and I know Freddie and my cousins do as well. It is vitally important that you make up one of our party lest we argue amongst ourselves.”
“We are family and do love each other,” Freddie said. “But we also see each other all the time. And that was before Bramwell decided to…” He waved a finger between the viscount and his sister.
Rebecca blushed, her fair complexion soon resembling a ripe strawberry. “It would be lovely to have someone new, especially a lady, to add liveliness to our party. Oh, that sounds terrible. I hardly know what I am saying!” She covered her cheeks with her hands.
“I believe you mean that having people with us whose company we enjoy, especially when their presence was so unexpected, makes the Festive Season that much more festive. Special.” It was Mr Darcy who spoke, and his deep, rich voice stirred something in Elizabeth.
She regarded him, his eyes on hers, unable to breathe for a long moment.
The spell was broken by Miss Pratt’s response.
“Oh, that is good of you. Lizzy, my dear, you must. Madeline, your niece will be perfectly safe with Mr Darcy and his relations, and it would be good for her to have the company of other young people. There are no finer to be found.”
“I do not mean to leave you or Mrs Gardiner out of the invitations, Miss Pratt,” Mr Darcy said. “You must also join us whenever you are able. My cousins have been encouraging Georgiana and I to have a skating party. It would be an excellent opportunity for you to have dinner with us again.”
This was kindness itself, and it was not just what he said, Elizabeth decided, it was his genuine smile and the sincerity in his voice, which there was no mistaking.
The discussion continued for a short while, the young people explaining their proposed schemes.
Elizabeth might have demurred but for two reasons.
The first was that her aunt meant her to accept, as shown by her encouraging smiles and nods.
The second was Georgiana Darcy, who watched her with wide, hope-filled eyes.
Why this was, Elizabeth could not say, but the young lady was so shy—far different from how Mr Wickham had described her—and Elizabeth hated the thought of disappointing her.
Thus, she said she anticipated seeing them again and found comfort in recalling that the colonel had said they expected to leave the neighbourhood after Twelfth Night.
If I survived a month in Mr Darcy’s company previously, then I can surely withstand a fortnight now! Somehow, she did not think it would be all that difficult.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a charming young woman,” Fitzwilliam said. “Do you not agree, Darcy?”
Darcy, who had been contemplating the very same lady, started.
He, his cousins, and Georgiana were in one of the smaller sitting rooms; his uncle was reading in the library.
It was mid-afternoon on Christmas Day, which thus far had lived up to his expectations in being full of good food and cheer, with more to come in the hours ahead.
Although they had received several invitations, despite their presence in the neighbourhood being unplanned, they had decided it should be a day for family alone.
But had I known Elizabeth would be in Lambton…
In answer to his cousin, he stammered, “She is…agreeable.”
Bramwell sniggered loudly, Freddie and Fitzwilliam less so, and Georgiana bit her lips together, her brow furrowed as she stared at him.
Rebecca sounded sympathetic when she said, “That is all you have to say of her? Forgive me, but it did strike us—and I do speak for all of us—that you might find her rather more than agreeable.” She went on hastily, forestalling his words, “And you should know that we like her very much and would be pleased, more than pleased, to see her often.”
“Admit it, Cousin,” Bramwell said. “She has succeeded in cracking that stoic heart of yours. At last, you have met a lady who makes you think of—”
“Enough!” Darcy said. He stood and went to the window to evade their curious stares and, if he were very fortunate, questions.
It did not surprise him when his plan failed. Fitzwilliam was by his side at once, a hand on his arm, encouraging him to return to the chair.
“We shall refrain from teasing you. Well, I cannot speak for my brother, but I am confident the rest of us will control ourselves better than he can.”
Bramwell protested, but Rebecca entreated him to be silent. “Darcy will refuse to talk of her if you do not!”
“There is nothing to say,” Darcy insisted, despite knowing he could speak of Elizabeth for hours and not grow weary. There is also the fact that I am struggling to decide what to do about her. Might I pursue her? Would it be wrong?
“I no more believe that than I do that faeries frolic in the gardens when we are not looking,” Freddie said. “Georgie, what is your opinion of Miss Bennet?”
Still standing by the window, Darcy regarded his sister, a tendril of anxiety gripping him.
“I-I like her,” she said, sounding almost apologetic. “She is amusing, yet I have no doubt she can be serious when needed. As she was when she took care of her sister at Mr Bingley’s estate. And…well, she seemed to fit when she was here, did she not?”
Rebecca nodded vigorously. “Exactly! Even though we have only just met, it feels like we have known her for ages.” She took a deep breath. “In short, Darcy, we believe you have a particular interest in her, and we approve.”
“Enthusiastically,” Bramwell said.
Rebecca covered his mouth with a hand before he could say more, which was probably for the best. His eldest cousin was seldom able to stop himself from laughing at people until they wanted to shake him or run away.
The viscount’s endorsement was repeated by others, and Darcy took a moment to consider them, thoughts swirling in his mind and leaving him vaguely dizzy.
Returning to his chair, he paused by his sister, who shared a sofa with Freddie and Rebecca, and kissed the top of her head; she seemed apprehensive, almost as though she expected him to be angry.
At the moment, he was not sure what he felt.
Once seated, Darcy sighed. “Regardless of any sentiments I may have for the lady—and I admit nothing—the situation is…not possible.”
Bramwell snorted.
Fitzwilliam and Freddie asked why, while Rebecca said, “Do you mean because she is not rich and her family is not as grand as yours? We know that, including that Mr Gardiner is in trade. How could we not?”
“Yet, we are assembled here to tell you that we support you pursuing her,” Fitzwilliam said.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Bramwell cried impatiently. “Darcy, marry her. Make her Georgiana’s sister and our new cousin.”
“You hardly know her!” Darcy retorted. “A few hours in her company, and you have decided she would make an adequate Mrs Darcy?”
“Yes!” more than one person—possibly all of them—exclaimed.
How could Darcy argue that they were being ridiculous when he had begun to entertain dreams of her as his wife soon after they met?
Hesitantly, he asked, “You do not think it matters? That she has no fortune or connexions? I must tell you that her mother and younger sisters…their behaviour is not what it should be.”
“You are not marrying the mother or other sisters. As for the money and connexions, no,” Fitzwilliam insisted.
“Can you say that our relations would feel the same—your father, your parents?” Darcy asked, first looking at Rebecca and Freddie then Bramwell and Fitzwilliam.
“Father very much likes Mrs Gardiner and anticipates meeting her husband. He will not disapprove, especially since he only wants you to be happy,” Freddie insisted, his sister nodding her agreement.
“As do Mother and Father,” Fitzwilliam said. “I admit, they might have a question or two for you, but my brother and I shall assure them that you have chosen wisely, and once they meet her, they will agree.”
“Lady Catherine will not like it.” Georgiana’s tone betrayed a touch of anxiety. “But, really, she does not seem to like or approve of much.”
“Very true!” Bramwell said, giving her cheek a fond caress. He turned to Darcy and continued. “There you have it. We are all agreed. Now you just need to secure your lady.”
Darcy averted his gaze and ran a hand over his mouth.
Was Elizabeth ‘his lady’? He could not fail to notice that her manner towards him was not as easy as it was towards his family, and there was some expression in her beautiful eyes that suggested suspicion, especially when he had been speaking to Mrs Gardiner about her years in Lambton.
He was no fool and admitted that he had not been especially friendly towards anyone in Hertfordshire, even her.
But he had been worried about Georgiana and did not know how to speak to people whose circumstances in life were so different from his own.
But were these anything other than weak excuses?
Was Elizabeth’s manner towards him because of how he had acted in the autumn?
They had spent several days together at Netherfield, and they had spoken easily enough to each other then.
Or had they? Embarrassment almost made him squirm as he recalled sitting in the library and remaining steadfastly silent lest she believe he had a romantic interest in her.
Although that would have been the truth.
Everything about how he felt when he thought of her, let alone when he was with her, confirmed it.
No other lady could make him feel so much, lighten the weight of duty and expectations that rested so heavily on his shoulders, or make him want to be a better man.
He was pulled from his reflections by Fitzwilliam shaking his arm. His sister and cousins were staring at him; heat crept up his spine.
“Lost in thought of her fine features?” Bramwell said, then sniggered.
Fitzwilliam chuckled and said, “Since I do not believe you heard us, let me summarise what you missed. Miss Bennet being here is a gift. Use it to woo her. We shall assist by showing her how much she has to gain by marrying you, namely a sweet sister-in-law and a flock of charming cousins.”
Glancing at Georgiana, Darcy made a hasty decision, hoping it was the right one.
“There is a militia stationed near her home. I am sorry to say that Wickham joined it whilst I was there.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca place an arm round his sister’s shoulders.
She, like most of their family, knew of Ramsgate; Lady Catherine did not.
Freddie’s complexion darkened. “Did he spread his usual lies?”
“Oh no!” Rebecca cried, her eyes fixing on Darcy. “Did he tell them to Miss Bennet? Would she believe him?”
There was a long moment of silence, which he broke by admitting that he was afraid the answer to both was yes. “You know how easy it is for him to make friends, whereas I do not.”
“He is skilled at convincing people to trust him,” Georgiana whispered just loud enough to be heard.
They spent a moment reassuring her and disparaging Wickham before returning to the main subject.
“Then there is no better place for Miss Bennet to be,” Bramwell said. “Here, where you and that cur are from, she will soon learn the true worth of both of you.”
“Especially with us here to lend a helping hand,” Freddie added.
This was met with approval, and they began to discuss ways to spend more time with Elizabeth.