Chapter Three #7
Although it was a little early for morning calls, this did not seem enough of an aberration to justify their aunt having hurried from small study, where she had planned to attend to her correspondence all afternoon, or for her somewhat harried presentation.
When she regarded her younger niece for another moment, understanding dawned and Elizabeth’s hope soared.
“Miss Darcy?” she asked, slightly breathless despite having exerted herself no more than taking one slow step towards the door where her aunt stood.
“Not quite,” Mrs. Gardiner answered, and in the small second before she elaborated, Elizabeth’s heart began to beat wildly and she became lightheaded enough to feel the need to sit down, which she did as her aunt continued, "It is Mr. Darcy.” At Elizabeth’s sharp intake of breath, her aunt’s eyes fell on her.
Smiling slightly, she clarified, “Old Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh,” was Elizabeth’s only response. Somehow, she had not considered meeting their father.
He had hardly been mentioned in her conversation with the siblings.
Dozens of questions came to mind about what he was like and why he was here.
There was no time to consider even one of these as Mr. Simms announced their guest.
After Mr. Darcy was announced and Simms withdrew, Mrs. Gardiner expressed her welcome.
“I hope you will forgive me, Mrs. Gardiner, for the liberty I have taken in calling without warning,” Mr. Darcy said in response.
“Indeed, I should have called years ago when you and Mr. Gardiner first came moved to Barlow Hall. But then, my family was at Pemberley but rarely and I was a terribly neglectful neighbour.”
Fortunately, Mrs. Gardiner was the consummate hostess, and after her initial agitation, she slipped effortlessly into her role.
“Mr. Darcy, you have nothing to apologise for. We are honoured to have you in our home,” she said with a kind smile. “Please allow me to introduce my nieces, Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire.”
Mr. Darcy bowed to each girl as they offered their best curtsies. It quickly became apparent that the Bennet girls were too intimidated and Mr. Darcy too reserved to advance any conversation. Mrs. Gardiner understood what was required.
“Might I offer you some refreshment, Mr. Darcy?” she asked, moving to the bell-pull by the door. “Mrs. Allen has prepared some of her famous cinnamon scones.”
“That would be lovely,” he responded with a hint of a smile. “Despite my long absences from Derbyshire in recent years, I have heard of the marvel of the scones of Barlow Hall.”
“How remarkable,” Mrs. Gardiner replied, smiling widely. After inviting him to sit, they arranged themselves with Mr. Darcy in the chair beside his hostess and Jane and Elizabeth on the settee opposite them.
Elizabeth was anxious to enquire after Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy. In addition, she was intensely curious to know what had happened with Miss Devon, but even with an opening, she did not know how she could possibly enquire after that.
It was of no matter as Elizabeth found no opportunity to interject amidst the exchange of pleasant but meaningless conversation.
The recent rains were praised while the snow of last winter was lamented.
Mutual acquaintances were discovered and asked after.
When the scones and tea arrived and all talk seemed to centre around favourite foods and drinks, Elizabeth was practically bouncing in her seat so great was her impatience.
Jane noticed and cast her sister a warning glance.
Just when she thought she could no longer contain her curiosity, the adults stumbled upon one of the few topics capable of distracting Elizabeth in that moment.
“You may not remember, Mrs. Gardiner, but years ago, we did meet.”
“Of course, I remember,” Mrs. Gardiner said, laughing just a little. “I was not certain you would.”
“I do indeed, you were charming and precocious.”
“I was impertinent.”
“Perhaps, but it was still charming.” Mr. Darcy shook his head slightly, and Elizabeth felt certain he was envisioning her genteel and perennially composed aunt as an impertinent child. She needed to know more.
“Will you not tell us the tale?” Her question might have been a little forward, but she had taken care to speak quietly and calmly—more like Jane than herself.
“I am perfectly willing,” Mr. Darcy answered with more warmth than she had expected. “However, I would not want to make Mrs. Gardiner uncomfortable in any way.”
Displaying some of her own natural playfulness, Mrs. Gardiner quickly replied, “Since you are convinced I was charming, not impertinent, I suppose I need not be afraid.”
“I believe I indicated your impertinence was charming.” He smiled at her and then—to the great surprise of all the ladies present—turned and winked at the girls. Elizabeth was enchanted.
Dropping all pretence of disinterest, she eagerly asked for the story.
“Are you certain? I would not want to tarnish the image you have of your aunt.” The formal delivery combined with the teasing statement brought to mind, for Elizabeth, another Mr. Darcy.
“You needn’t worry on that score,” Elizabeth replied with great seriousness.
“Although Mrs. Gardiner is the very best of aunts, an accomplished lady and a fine example for us to follow among other things, I have long been acquainted with her ...” Here, she paused and leaned ever so slightly towards Mr. Darcy.
“Occasionally unorthodox behaviour.” Though she wanted to, Elizabeth couldn’t quite bring herself to wink at the older gentleman.
“Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, without any real censure in her voice. Mr. Darcy laughed quietly, regarding Elizabeth with a curious gaze.
“Well then,” he said, “I shall have no scruples about sharing with you the whole story.” And he did, pausing only briefly to praise the scones as he finished his.
It turned out the tale involved a somewhat mischievous eight-year-old Madeline Barlow, a great deal of mud and a recalcitrant donkey. The ladies were all laughing by the time he finished.
“I do not believe my man was ever able to get my coat clean,” he said, reaching for another scone. “However, it was well worth it.”
“How so?” Elizabeth asked.
“Though she remained in the carriage, the future Mrs. Darcy was with me,” his voice grew wistful. “She later told me that the way I behaved that day decided her for me.”
“She thought a man who wrestles small children and animals in the mud was a worthy match?” Elizabeth asked with genuine curiosity. Although Jane gasped and Mrs. Gardiner rushed to admonish her niece and apologise to their guest, Mr. Darcy quickly assured her all was well.
“To be quite honest, I asked a very similar question when she told me, which was not until many years later,” he confessed.
“She said she could easily imagine growing old with a man so willing to dirty himself for the sake of others.” Mr. Darcy paused and seemed gripped by a deep sadness which Elizabeth desperately wanted to alleviate.
However, even her brashness would not allow her to speak into what seemed to be a very heavy and private silence.
After a moment, he continued. “Mrs. Darcy was a very singular woman who had grown up as the daughter of an earl with all of the expectations that brought. It was a fairly stifling existence. Apparently, a lifetime of mud and donkeys was quite appealing after all that.”
“She must have been very special,” Jane said with gentle conviction.
“She was indeed,” Mr. Darcy confirmed, then seeming to collect himself, he added, “and now it is I who must apologise. It is well past the time when a polite guest would have left you ladies to yourselves.”
“You may be right,” Mrs. Gardiner responded with a smile, rising as Mr. Darcy did so. “I suppose that means we must consider you a friend from now on.”
Mr. Darcy looked a little surprised at this, but not unhappy with what could have been considered presumption.
“That seems like a fine resolution,” he said, then turning to Elizabeth, he told her, “I am afraid I have been somewhat remiss as well in offering thanks to you for the service you did Miss Darcy last week.”
Though she had been anxious to hear of Mr. and Miss Darcy, Elizabeth was now more fearful than relieved.
She had not disclosed to her family anything about Miss Darcy’s intentions nor that Mr. Darcy walked her home alone.
Unsure if Mr. Darcy himself knew any of this, she was at a loss as to how to beg him not to reveal any of these details he might be privy to.
With few options, she simply turned to where Mrs. Gardiner and Jane stood and then, looking Mr. Darcy in the eye, shook her head slightly.
Hoping the small nod he offered in return meant he understood, Elizabeth said, “I was so glad Miss Darcy and I happened upon one another. She is a sweet girl.”
“That she is. I am glad to know you have some fondness for her as she has taken quite a fancy to you. I have heard little but stories of your goodness, kindness and beauty.”
Elizabeth blushed at this, but rushed to apologise. “She is too kind. I am sorry you have been subject to tall tales. It is no doubt her sweet nature and natural enthusiasm that have led her to speak so highly of me.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I did not mean to imply that her excitement has been unwelcome. Quite the opposite. It has been delightful to see her so animated, and from all I have heard and seen, my daughter has not exaggerated at all.”
“Thank you,” was all Elizabeth could manage in response.
“It is I who am meant to thank you. Although it was some of my own curiosity that led me to seek you out, I have also been charged by both my children to express their gratitude. And as a token of their gratitude, I was tasked with bestowing a small gift.” He then turned to Mrs. Gardiner, who, beside Jane, had been silently observing the exchange with unconcealed fascination. “With your aunt’s permission.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Gardiner answered with a nod and smile.
Mr. Darcy then removed a small book from his jacket pocket.
“I am told you have a great interest in character studies,” he told her, “and so it was believed this might interest you.” He tilted the title to Mrs. Gardiner, who nodded once again before presenting it to Elizabeth.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said again as he placed the book in her hands. She glanced at the title Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes. Wanting very much to have something to say about either the book or its author, she could not comment, having never heard of either.
“It is the English translation, of course,” Mr. Darcy said, and as Elizabeth had not known that this work was not originally an English one, she simply nodded.
“I hope I have not offended,” Mr. Darcy said quickly. “Fitzwilliam seemed certain this would be a better gift than a bouquet or trinket. Perhaps I should not have listened. What do young men know of the preferences of girls.”
“No, of course not, it is perfect,” Elizabeth assured him, having finally found her voice.
Mr. Darcy had just succeeded in making this unknown book not only her most treasured possession but also a task she would set herself to with unequalled vigour.
When next they met, Elizabeth would show Fitzwilliam Darcy she was a master of whatever it was this Mr. Hobbes had to say about humanity.
The next moments saw the foursome make their way to the foyer, where Simms waited with Mr. Darcy’s things.
He thanked his hostess and offered his farewells to the girls.
Before he went through the door which the butler held open for him, he said, “I hope you will forgive Miss Darcy for not attending you herself. She and her brother went off to her aunt and uncle’s home in Matlock not two days after you met.
Although she was eager to go, she has lamented the trip’s preventing her from furthering your acquaintance, as she has already sent not one but two letters reminding me of this.
As I understand, you are only here for the summer and we will have to look to next year for the happy reunion. ”
“Yes, thank you. I look forward to that very much,” Elizabeth said.
“And do let me know what you think of the book,” he requested before offering one final bow and leaving.