Chapter 23 A Simple Sunday and an Eventful Monday
A Simple Sunday and an Eventful Monday
Elizabeth had expected to spend Sunday afternoon quietly at home with the Gardiners, but she had received an invitation to spend the afternoon with Lady Clara. A Hopewell carriage picked her up in grand style, and soon she was having tea in a small parlor at the back of the large house.
“This is a lovely room.”
“Thank you. It is my favorite room in the house. I redecorated it last year. Mother said it would be a good way to practice being a wife, but in truth I think she could not be bothered with it. She has never enjoyed decorating.”
“Well,” said Elizabeth with an appreciative look around the room, “you have done a wonderful job. Everything flows together delightfully.”
“I am glad you think so. I cannot abide a garish color scheme.”
After several more comments on the striped paper and the patterned fabric covering a new chair, Elizabeth noticed Lady Clara seemed uncomfortable.
She was fidgeting with the fringe on a nearby pillow, and she plucked at the skirt of her dress.
Her forehead was often wrinkled in thought and she had started several sentences that she did not finish.
“Pardon me, Lady Clara, but is something on your mind? You seem distracted.”
“Oh, forgive me, Miss Elizabeth. Actually,” she hesitated and looked around the room nervously. “I was wondering if you might give me a bit of advice.”
“Oh?”
“Mr. Covington came to call on me yesterday.”
“Did he?”
“Yes. My mother was on her way out, so she had my aunt sit with us. She arrived in Town Thursday last and is half deaf and rather nearsighted.”
“An ideal chaperone then.”
Lady Clara smiled uneasily. “Yes, well, he was attentive. Do you suppose—do you think he might…”
“Do I think what, my lady?”
“Do you think he truly likes me? Or is he only in need of money?”
Elizabeth looked at Clara sympathetically and moved to sit near her on the sofa. She placed her hand over Lady Clara’s on the cushion and squeezed. “I do not know him personally, but Colonel Fitzwilliam is well acquainted with him. I will ask for you and find out as much as I can.”
Lady Clara’s face lit up in relief. “Oh, thank you, Miss Elizabeth! That is very kind of you.”
“It is the least I can do. I will tell you that I know Mr. Covington’s family fell on hard times recently and he was forced to sell the estate to remain solvent.
He was able to partially replace his sister’s dowry and his mother’s settlement, so they are not entirely destitute.
I believe he has inherited a small estate from an uncle. ”
“Yes, he told me of it. It is in York. I have been there once before—it is a lovely county.”
Elizabeth looked at her seriously. “Do you like Mr. Covington?”
“I believe I do. He seems kind and he has so many interesting things to say. He speaks of more than gossip and the weather.” She suddenly looked more animated.
“Yesterday, we spoke for a half hour on the current campaign on the peninsula. I have never had such a conversation with a man, well, other than…”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam. Yes, of course.” Elizabeth tried to sound cheerful and supportive without giving her false hope in case it were to come to nothing. “It sounds as if you have at least made a new friend, even if nothing romantic comes of it.”
“Yes. He told me he had known me before. I danced with him my first season, more than once he says, though I do not recall it. But then I do not recall most of that season. I was entirely focused on… you know.”
“Yes, the good colonel has the effect on some people.” She smiled brightly. “But Mr. Covington has found his way back to you and it is a good sign that he remembers you two years later, is it not?”
“Do you think so?” The hope in her voice was heartbreaking.
“I do. I shall ask Colonel Fitzwilliam as soon as possible and insist that he tell me everything he has ever heard about Mr. Covington. You have my word.”
Lady Clara smiled broadly and clasped Elizabeth’s hand in her own. “Thank you!”
Mr. Darcy,
Our newfound pastime of matchmaking requires attention. Do you know anything of Mr. Jonathon Covington? I have been tasked by a relation of yours to find out everything I may. I understand the Good Colonel has been his friend for some time. Might you pass on my request for information to him?
I eagerly look forward to our outing tomorrow. I have a new gown that Aunt assures me is perfect for the theater. If you do not recognize me in the lobby, I will be the one in the blue gown cut so fashionably you will think I am someone else entirely. Truly, I hardly recognize myself in it.
Will Miss Darcy accompany us? You had not decided when I saw you last.
I cannot wait to see you. Has it only been a day? I am ridiculous. I should not miss you after only a day.
Until tomorrow, my heart.
Yours,
Elizabeth
Dear Elizabeth,
I have passed on your request to Fitz and he is taking the matter as seriously as he does everything else—that is to say, not at all.
The writing changed drastically and in a larger hand was written:
Do not listen to a thing he says, Miss Elizabeth.
Just because I am not sour-faced does not mean I do not know how to answer a question seriously.
JC is a good man—I would go into battle with him, which is the highest commendation I could give.
More to the point, I have known him several years now and have never seen or heard anything to cause me concern over his character.
He does not gamble or drink to excess, and he is scrupulous and conscientious.
He is also a terrific bowler, if you are ever in the mood for a game.
CRF
The writing changed back to Mr. Darcy’s neat hand.
Pardon my cousin’s rude interruption. He has been too long in the barracks. I have also heard no ill of Mr. C and seeing what my cousin wrote, I would say those are all good qualities in a husband. I assume that is why you are asking, though correct me if I am mistaken.
G will not accompany us to the theater. She is still too shy for such an outing, though she has asked if you and Miss Bennet might come to tea later this week so that she might get to know you. Tell me when you may join her and I will send the carriage for you.
Now that I know the color of your gown, I will be sure to watch for a stunning woman in blue in the lobby of the theater, bearing a slight resemblance to my Elizabeth.
Truly, my love, do you not know how breathtaking you are? You were pretty when I first met you, then you became remarkably handsome. You have since moved past beautiful and are now firmly lodged in my heart as the most lovely, pleasing, perfect woman I have ever met.
How goes my first attempt at a love letter? Fitz stands behind me even now laughing uproariously over my efforts. You may laugh and smile when you read this, and I can imagine how your eyes will dance in the candlelight.
Regardless of my bumbling, I hope you know how dear you are to me. I look forward to tomorrow with great anticipation.
Yours,
FD
Fitzwilliam,
Thank the colonel for the information. I have relayed it to Lady C and can only hope it gives her some peace of mind. She is a dear girl and deserves happiness if it can be had.
Your first attempt at a love letter was quite well received—so well received I have naught to say in response. My aunt has been teasing me relentlessly on my blushes since it was delivered.
I will await you at the theater with great anticipation.
Yours,
Elizabeth
Darcy stood in the lobby of the theater with his heart in his eyes.
This was the night he would publicly declare to all of the ton that he was well and truly taken by Elizabeth Bennet.
A month ago, he would have been worried how she would be received.
Would her relations embarrass him? Would he feel the scorn of society for his choice?
Now, he was nothing but proud of his choice. Well, proud and anxious. He was glad he had not asked her to marry him that wretched Thursday in Kent. If she had accepted him, he would not have come to value her as he did now. If she had refused him—it did not bear thinking about.
He looked towards the door, finally spotting Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arm in arm. Jane was on her uncle’s other side. He saw a dark head behind Mr. Gardiner he hoped was Elizabeth and made his way to them. Bingley arrived at the same time.
Bingley wished everyone a good evening while looking only at Jane—and standing annoyingly between Darcy and his lady. Soon Jane was on Bingley’s arm instead of her uncle’s. The Gardiners greeted him and finally Elizabeth stepped out from behind her uncle.
Darcy’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She was incredibly fashionable, as she had said, but more than that, she was lovely in her own right. A well-made gown could not magnify beauty that was not there.
“Elizabeth. You are a vision.”
She flushed and said quietly, “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
Mr. Gardiner cleared his throat and they were reminded that they were in public and should probably not refer to each other so informally. Darcy could only nod and continue to stare at his love, his heart in his eyes.
By the time the first intermission arrived, Elizabeth was breathless.
In a fit of magnanimity, the Gardiners had taken the seats in the front row.
Their box was long and narrow, only three seats across and three rows deep.
Bingley and Jane sat in the center seats while Darcy and Elizabeth had taken the ones in the back.
Darcy had said he would sit in back due to his height, and the Gardiners had agreed, likely thinking it safer for it to be he and Elizabeth in such private seats, who were only courting, instead of Bingley and Jane who were engaged.
They were wrong.