Chapter 33
Darcy was grateful that Elizabeth had listened to his explanations, such as they were, and although he would not say her sense of injury or anger was done away with at once, he believed she appreciated that he had already taken steps to correct his errors, such as by speaking to his relations of her.
He and Bingley spent the day at Longbourn and remained for dinner, at Mrs Bennet’s express invitation.
“It will be only a family meal,” the matron said, her manner appearing anxious.
“It is very kind of you to invite me. I thank you,” he said.
She was a handsome woman, especially when she beamed at her daughters. While Miss Bennet most resembled her, Elizabeth had inherited her smile.
“I am sure you are most welcome, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Bennet said, her tone speculative and her gaze moving from him to Elizabeth repeatedly. “As is any friend of dear Mr Bingley’s.”
“Ah, yes, we must remember that you are his particular friend,” Mr Bennet said from his chair near the fireplace.
“We have heard a great deal about you, notably once Mr Bingley discovered you knew Lizzy. Quite the coincidence that you have come so soon after she returned. She has hardly had time to miss your company.” There was a hint of wry amusement in his voice, and his brow was arched.
Elizabeth sighed. “Papa, I beg you will not tease Mr Darcy. Let him know you for a day or two first, so that he understands you mean no harm.”
Affecting shock, Mr Bennet said, “Harm? Me? Never! It was a mere observation.”
Elizabeth turned to him and said, “You must not mind my father. He likes nothing better than to laugh at the people about him, whether they are his family, neighbours, or strangers.”
“Mr Bennet,” Mrs Bennet said in a whisper that carried throughout the room, “you must not! I think he and Lizzy…” She jerked her head towards where Darcy and Elizabeth sat, and instantly, his cheeks began to burn.
But why should I be embarrassed? After all, his fondest wish was that he would soon be betrothed to their daughter.
He had once thought to delay proposing until close to Christmas, but too much had happened in the past few days, and he would ask her as soon as she indicated she had forgiven him.
Supposing she did, he reminded himself; he ought not to take it for a given that all he had to do was say a word or two of apology.
Yet, he had reason to hope. The look she gave him at present was cautious, and he had the impression she was watching to see how he would react to her family.
But beneath the surface, he was certain he saw a certain warmth that indicated she was glad he was here.
It gave him every reason to believe she would soon be his Elizabeth, whether or not he deserved her.
The rest of the day passed agreeably, although he had little occasion to speak to Elizabeth, who appeared to prefer it that way.
He put his effort into demonstrating he could be the man she needed him to be, notably by accepting her relations.
The Bennets were a boisterous family, and during the evening meal when they were sitting at the same end of the table, the youngest two asked him many questions about his family, his estate, and his acquaintance with their elder sister.
“Lizzy has told us hardly anything about what she did in town,” Miss Catherine complained. “Since you were there too, you can.”
“Jane told us she said she was going to a large ball the same night as Mr Bingley’s,” Miss Lydia added.
“How many people were there? Is it true that your uncle is an earl? Have you met the Prince of Wales? My father says his behaviour is scandalous, but he is a prince, and can do whatever he likes.”
Fortunately, Elizabeth saved him from answering by telling her sisters not to pester him. “I shall tell you about the ball and anything else you like at another time.”
Mr Bennet was also nearby and said, “I have no interest in balls or soirées, but I would like to know your opinion on Prince George, Mr Darcy.”
“Another time,” Elizabeth repeated, giving her father an arch look.
The gentleman nodded once. “At that ‘other time’ we might also discuss how well you know each other.” His voice was lower, Darcy assumed to avoid being heard by anyone but Elizabeth and him.
Before Bingley and he departed, Darcy had a few moments to speak to Elizabeth alone.
She said, “I shall tell my father what he needs to know. Do not concern yourself with him or my mother.”
“I am not afraid to answer his questions. You are his daughter, and he has a right to know my intentions and be assured they are honourable.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she lowered her eyes, which he took as a sign that she did not want to discuss the subject.
Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a letter and gave it to her, explaining, “It is from Rebecca. I warn you, she appears to have her heart set on you being her cousin-in-law.”
Elizabeth took the folded sheet of paper. “I believe she is not the only one who has envisioned a certain future.”
“I can name five, not including myself. There is only one person’s hopes I am not as confident with as I would like.”
Although her chin was turned away from him, he could see that her lips were twitching as though they wished to smile, but she was refusing to permit it. “I shall read what Rebecca has to say and consider what you told me earlier. You caused me such miserable days, and I cannot simply forget.”
Despite this speech, he was not overly anxious.
It was not a sense of egoism—he did not expect that he was so wonderful she was bound to forgive him anything—but because he trusted her and the love he knew they shared, even if they had not spoken of it.
This was a test, but they would pass it.
He would apologise again, ask her what she wished him to do to prove to her he would not behave so stupidly again, give her time to reconcile what had happened, and whatever else she needed.
With this in mind, his mood was uncommonly high—enough that Bingley remarked on it as they made their way to Netherfield.
The consequence was that Darcy found himself telling the story of his history with Elizabeth, albeit omitting several moments he would rather forget, such as speaking so ridiculously and arrogantly about the sort of lady his future wife would be.
But then, that had been before he knew Elizabeth and she had disordered his beliefs on the matter, for which he would always be extremely grateful.
Before retiring for the night, Elizabeth had a brief conversation with her father.
She said enough for him to understand that she and Mr Darcy had had, ‘a slight misunderstanding’, but assured him it was nothing that should disturb him.
He had apologised, and she would take the time to consider what it meant for their relationship.
“And if he should propose?” Mr Bennet asked. “I must tell you, Lizzy, the way he looked at you—and you so carefully avoided looking at him—left a strong impression. I believe your mother is already planning a second wedding.”
She swallowed heavily and muffled the surge of annoyance at his teasing. “He and I have…matters to settle before I am prepared to discuss that eventuality.”
Her father regarded her steadily, his brow arched, giving her to understand he required her to say more.
For a long moment, she thought about Mr Darcy and what her life would be like without him, just as she had been since the ball.
When she had believed she had no choice but to accept that future, she had been quick to assure herself she would find happiness, possibly even another, equally worthy gentleman to give her love to.
At present, knowing he was just three miles away and wanted her forgiveness and hoped to marry her…
How could she deny that it was what she most longed for?
“What happened in town to prompt my return—and no, before you enquire, Papa, I do not wish to explain it, nor do I believe it is necessary—it still…vexes me, despite the conversation he and I had earlier. I hope we can put it in the past, and if we do, I suspect he would propose, and very likely, I would accept.” Holding his eye, she added, “Nothing that happened should keep you from granting your consent. Mrs Ryde, who necessarily knows everything, would agree.”
He accepted her assurances, and that was the end of the matter.
For the next two days, she avoided Mr Darcy.
That is to say, she did not speak to him unless it was necessary.
He, along with Mr Bingley, came to Longbourn, and they and the Bennets met at a dinner party hosted by the Lucases.
During this interval, she observed him with her family and friends, contemplated his apology and explanation, and reviewed how she had acted during the length of their acquaintance.
She also read letters, the one he had delivered from Rebecca several times.
It was warm and humorous from the greeting to the very end.
One part returned to her again and again, although she was not sure why.
Darcy told me what he did. I hate to call my own cousin, and one I usually think very highly of, an idiot, but frankly, what else is there to say about his behaviour?
Was it just that it reminded her that it was Mr Darcy’s behaviour during that one brief period that was idiotic, as Rebecca had written, rather than it being a broader part of his character?
On the one hand, he had not shown himself to advantage when they were in Ireland, but on the other, the man she had seen in him during the weeks in London before the de Bourghs’ arrival had been kind and generous, and everything any lady could ask for in a gentleman.
Which did she believe was the true Mr Darcy?
Elizabeth had also received a letter from Mrs Ryde.