Chapter 20
After staying awake all night tossing and turning most uncomfortably, Darcy realised that the sooner he asked the lady for forgiveness and admitted to yet another insult, the better off he would be.
So once this resolution was made, action was required.
Soon after breaking his fast the following morning, Darcy invited Elizabeth to join him on a walk in the park.
He reluctantly asked Georgiana also but, thankfully, she declined.
She was starting drawing lessons with a new Italian artist and was very excited, making her giddy and grating on Darcy’s nerves.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Elizabeth wanted to decline as well but she did not have a ready excuse like Georgiana, so not wanting to insult Lady Anne by refusing her son, she finally agreed to join him.
Darcy offered her his arm and she accepted it, gently touching it as if afraid he might find her a heavy burden.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you will permit me a word.”
“You may certainly speak, sir.”
They walked in silence for several moments; his gloved hands tightening into fists, for Elizabeth noticed his muscles tense up under her light touch.
“What I said to Miss Bingley at Netherfield about you and your mother… it has been a long time since I wished to retract it, though I did not know how to even start the confession.”
“Confession, sir?” She said teasingly, “I am no priest.”
“Nevertheless, a confession is required.”
“Very well then, I shall try to absolve you.” She smiled.
He smiled back; she had the knack of inflaming his anxieties, especially when facing a daunting prospect such as admitting another wrong against her.
“When I arrived at Meryton I was feeling burdened with my responsibilities. And coinciding with my foul mood it was the anniversary of my father’s death. It somehow affects me badly every year. I have not yet learned how to look at it pragmatically.”
“I am sorry, sir, for your loss. I do not know how I would react if I lost my father. Like you, I suspect it would take me years to overcome such sadness.”
“But I have also used that as an excuse to justify my arrogance and cruelty towards you and your family, more than once. I cannot help feeling that my father would have been disappointed in my behaviour, like my mother is.”
“Oh…”
“I believed myself superior to the company around me, and I wounded you to your face at the assembly in Meryton. As well as behind your back in the Netherfield drawing room, in the hearing of Miss Bingley of all people, to gratify my own vanity. Now I must confess that I have since been thoroughly ashamed of myself.”
A lesser apology might have amused her, but there was no trace of pride in him now. The sincerity of his discomfort softened her instinct toward ridicule.
“You were not singular in your pride… that evening at least,” she replied lightly, “I daresay my opinion of you, for days, was equally uncivil.”
“But I deserved it, while you did not.”
She glanced up at him, “perhaps… at the time.”
A faint smile touched his face, brief as sunlight through thick clouds.
They continued through the park; acquaintances touched their hat at him and ladies looked curiously at her after a quick survey of this new interloper in Town.
Elizabeth noticed that Darcy seemed blind to all around him but her.
He no longer spoke with the severe precision that once used to irritate her so much. There was a sort of hesitation about him now, as though every word he said had first endured scrutiny to avoid new insults. His focus was entirely on her.
“I often wonder,” said he, “whether you found Hertfordshire intolerably dull after my arrival.”
“Oh no,” she smiled teasingly, “you supplied excellent material for conversation. My friends and I discussed your hauteur very frequently.”
He chuckled, “I am grateful to have been of service.”
She laughed outright then, and the stiffness between them eased a little.
“I think there is hope for you, sir, for I am convinced that a few short weeks ago you would not tolerate such teasing.”
“That is because a few weeks ago I understood very little.”
The remark spoken without bitterness caused her to look at him anew. There was something unexpectedly vulnerable in a man admitting his own failings so plainly.
“And what do you understand now?” She asked.
He considered the question for a few moments before replying, “That good opinion cannot be commanded. It must be earned.”
Elizabeth’s teasing answer died before it reached her lips. The quiet earnestness of his manner made mockery feel unkind.
The path curved towards a small lake where the water reflected the pale sky of winter. Cormorants and grey wagtails stirred in the reeds and the breeze carried the scent of damp earth.
“I have a confession of my own, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said after a pause, “I did not expect our conversation this morning to take such a turn towards redemption, when you first invited me to join you.”
“Nor I; I intended only to apologise. I did not expect to unburden my heart… but you make confessions easy and afterwards one feels… light.”
“Then we are both surprised… and much lighter.”
Darcy turned towards her with an expression almost of warmth, “I find, Miss Bennet that your surprises are generally preferable to your ire…. and my expectations.”
She laughed, unable to help herself.
After a few moments in which they looked at each other with no hurry or awkwardness, he asked expectantly, “do you forgive me?”
“Yes I do, with all my heart.” She looked at him intently, “let us not allow Miss Bingley any more victories at our expense.”
He nodded, “agreed, madam… with all my heart.”
For the first time since they had known one another, their silence held neither hostility nor discomfort. Only a cautious curiosity of perhaps friendship… true friendship.
***
Again when Elizabeth descended the stairs to join the family on the Friday, for the much anticipated ball at Lady Kavanagh’s house, Darcy had to remind himself to breathe.
Her gown of ivory muslin was elegantly simple in comparison to Lady Anne’s satin. Yet there was something in her expression… intelligence warmed by mischief that drew Darcy’s eyes and held him captive.
“Miss Bennet,” he said at last, “You take my breath away, madam.”
She laughed softly, “not just tolerable tonight, Mr Darcy? You have dropped your standards, sir.” She said teasingly.
“Not at all, madam, in fact you have disrupted the status quo, I am not certain if anybody there tonight will be able to keep up with you.” He teased her back.
“Take care, Mr Darcy, or you will inflate my vanity, sir.” They seemed lost in each other’s eyes unaware that Lady Anne and Georgiana smiled at each other conspiratorially.
“Well, I think we should go.” The lady said, breaking the spell between Darcy and Elizabeth, and turning to her daughter, “Georgiana my darling, I am so sorry to leave you out of these festivities but your turn will come soon.”
“Oh Mama, I am not in a hurry to join you in society yet. I know my turn will come and when it does, I will enjoy it tremendously, but not sooner.” She then turned to Elizabeth and held her hand, “as long as you, Elizabeth, tell me all when you come back.”
Elizabeth kissed her friend, “I promise, my dear.”
The ballroom at Park Lane blazed with candlelight.
Crystal chandeliers hung like constellations above the ladies and gentlemen of London’s high society, scattering gold over polished marble floors and silks the colour of roses, cream, and pale blue.
Footmen moved silently along the walls with silver trays while a string quartet played quiet and welcoming background music before the official first set opened the ball.
Elizabeth noticed an over-abundance of feathers trembling and jewels glittering at every turn.
She giggled blithely considering her own lack of finery.
Her only jewel consisted of her garnet cross that hung on a silver chain, once given to her by her beloved Aunt Gardiner which she would not change for the world.
As promised, Colonel Fitzwilliam soon approached her to claim the first set, “Miss Bennet, since you are the most beautiful lady here tonight I must also claim the supper set for my own before the other gentlemen discover you here, hiding behind this dark wall of hauteur also known as Darcy.”
Elizabeth laughed delightedly, “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I see you have the art of flattery practised to perfection.”
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy interrupted, “if you want an idiot for your supper set, you need go no further than this court jester here.” Darcy rested his hand on his cousin’s shoulder affectionately. “But if your taste is more discerning as I suspect it is, you will grant me the supper set.”
Darcy had intended to only observe Elizabeth, but before he could stop himself, the invitation was out of his mouth and she was nodding,
“I will accept only one dance per gentleman tonight, so nobody will boast.” She said laughing. “The supper set is yours, Mr Darcy.”
However before the first set started, Lord Holton appeared to claim a set, “Miss Bennet, may I say how beautiful you look tonight. You are a vision, madam.”
“My lord, I thank you.” Elizabeth curtsied, “it is a pleasure seeing you again.”
“Darcy.” His cousin bowed his head slightly acknowledging his presence.
“Duncan.” Darcy mirrored his cousin’s greeting, looking less amiable than a few seconds earlier.
Lord Holton then turned back to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, before all your sets are taken, may I claim the first?”
“No, my lord, you may not since Colonel Fitzwilliam has already done it.”
Holton looked mightily disappointed, “may I have the supper set, then?”
Elizabeth shook her head apologetically, “I apologise, my lord, but the supper set is also taken.”
“You must grant me the second set then, at least,” he pleaded, “you already have deprived me of the two best sets.”
“You speak as though I have robbed you on the highway, sir.” She smiled.
“I assure you, Miss Bennet, the wound is mortal.” He touched his heart dramatically.