Chapter Eighteen
Darcy was happy to come to know Elizabeth’s father during the two weeks that he stayed at the house on Nelson Crescent before the marriage was accomplished.
The older gentleman was cheerful, quick to joke, with a rapid mind, and he was delighted to spend time with his daughter and the man she was going to marry.
Mr. Bennet made a determined campaign to court the admiration of his grandchildren.
He made no attempt to compete with Darcy in the expense put towards toys and books, instead he eagerly took the two around the town and went on long walks along the coast with them.
He relieved Darcy from George and Emily’s endless desire to have books read to them.
He chased and tossed them both about, and while there were limits to his endurance, he managed a good showing of stamina for a gentleman nearly twice Darcy’s age.
A few days before the planned wedding Mr. Bennet announced, “I’ve talked with the captain in charge of the batteries along the East Cliff, he’ll happily give us all a tour. George, you’d love to run about and see inside the bastion.”
The young boy’s reaction proved that Mr. Bennet had made a correct prediction of what his grandson would like, only the word ‘love’ really was too trite and everyday to describe the joy that little George showed at the prospect.
Mr. Bennet then suggested to Darcy and Elizabeth that they also come, if Darcy thought he could manage the walk.
“I believe I can,” Darcy replied. “But as an invalid I have learned that the chief person to send such questions to is my nurse. Elizabeth, will my health suddenly fail if I attempt the expedition?”
“So wholly dramatic.” She rolled her eyes. “Your stamina may fail, but there are plenty of benches along the way.”
“Yes, but you would not like it if I did not consult you upon such a serious matter as walking out while still an invalid.”
She laughed, as Darcy had hoped she would. “In another week or two you will be well enough that asking me my opinion on such matters will be wholly absurd.”
Georgiana however had little interest in the bastion and its guns, and her preference was to dedicate those two hours to practicing on the piano.
“Emily is such a dear, and I do love how she always sits with me when I play,” Georgiana explained.
“But certain pieces require all my concentration, and it is impossible to give that to the music while she is reaching for the keys.”
Elizabeth dressed for their walk in a summery dress that Mr. Bennet had purchased for her. She supported Darcy with her arm, and she was utterly lovely.
They walked out with two footmen, Sally, and another maid. A large party, but Darcy was happy that he did not need to worry at all for the children. Mr. Bennet carried George on his shoulders while Emily was held by Sally.
The gulls were high in the sky. The day was lovely. Elizabeth’s skin was tanned, and the cut of the dress was such that he could see the top of her bosom.
“What are you thinking?” Elizabeth asked.
“Chiefly how lovely the day is, and how well you look in that dress.” Darcy had not meant to say so much. He felt a thrill at how daring he had been, but also some concern.
Elizabeth smiled widely at him. “You say I am as lovely as this weather? I must thank Papa once again for buying me this dress.”
“I only wish you had let me buy you something,” Darcy replied.
Elizabeth wagged a finger. “Not until we are married.”
“You would think of it as charity otherwise?”
The way that Elizabeth’s smile disappeared and her face became fixed after Darcy asked that question made him ache to be able to hold and protect her once more. There was some pain around this.
“Maybe that is it. But no, it is not that. Not precisely—”
“I do look forward with delight to when we have married, and I will be able to ensure that you can wear every beautiful thing that you might like.”
Darcy was rather surprised by the way that Elziabeth frowned in reply to that.
He had expected her to be pleased by the notion. He shook his head. “I should have known that the chance to buy any sort of clothing would not please a woman who insisted on being given ‘book money’, instead of ‘pin money’.”
She laughed, and the cloud passed.
“You look very pleased with yourself,” Elizabeth said to Darcy after a little silence.
“Being dressed, seeing the children with your father, talking to you, walking about—being able to look down upon the harbor, feeling the breeze, hearing the ocean, and seeing the birds. I do not know that I have ever felt so completely happy.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “You like talking to me that much?”
“We are dear friends.” He smiled at her.
“And my father, what do you think of him?” Elizabeth asked.
“I like him, even more than I expected. He is more sensible than I expected. More sound in his ways. And he loves the children, and they already adore him. I like to see George smiling in such a way. And the way he takes to Emily as well.”
“I love how you observe the children, and care for their feelings,” Elizabeth said. “You see them the way they actually are.”
Darcy felt a thrill at the way that Elizabeth had said, ‘I love’. He said seriously to her, “I love them both.”
The two paused next to a bench to look at each other. Darcy felt the strain of walking beginning to become serious, but he wished to push a little further. “I miss our nightly conversations,” he said to Elizabeth. “So I cannot be completely happy about your father being here.”
“Papa is most insistent on the proprieties being observed. But John was delighted to at last gain the right to change your bandages—and now that is not even necessary.” She smiled.
“Papa still thinks in his heart that I am a virgin maiden of thirteen, and that I shall never have any particular delight in the attentions of a man—” She looked at him with meaning in her eyes. “That is not, in fact, the truth.”
Her arm intwined with his. She felt small, delicate, and yet strong. That happiness was filling him again. He was fortunate, so very fortunate, and he did not deserve it at all.
“It was stupid of me,” Elizabeth said, “to let my pride to keep me from my father for so long.”
“I used to think that pride was chiefly a virtue,” Darcy said.
“I do not think it was chiefly pride which made you fight Mr. Wickham, but rather that he provoked you.”
“It was still pride.” The memory of that day. Wickham’s body falling. A puppet with the strings cut. “And it was wounded pride, more than any other consideration, that made Wickham need to fight me.”
They reached the East Cliff. Darcy sat with great relief on a bench, and looked out over the coastal fortifications, the cannon pointing out, and at the beach below them, with the bathers out along the sand.
The waves rose and crashed against the sand.
In the harbor many ships stood behind the breakwater and the long piers.
In the distance a warship was approaching the harbor.
He thought it was a frigate, as it had a single deck of guns, but seemed to be too large to be a sloop.
Mr. Bennet knocked at the door of the fort and he spoke briefly with one of the soldiers before setting George down. Mr. Bennet then rubbed at his shoulders and stretched his neck to each side.
“I walked down this path,” Darcy told Elizabeth.
“On the way to the duel. I stopped for half a minute on the other side of the fort to look at the surf, and the way the dawn light played over it. The sea had glowed. The breezes went through my coat, and the scent of salt was heavy. I had never seen anything so beautiful.”
She squeezed his hand.
A captain came out from the bastion around the guns, and he cheerfully greeted Mr. Bennet, and shook his hand. He then very seriously shook little George’s hand, before walking over to Elizabeth and Darcy.
Mr. Bennet introduced them to the officer, and Captain Pike bowed to them both.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darcy, a pleasure. I knew Mr. Wickham, and he was not a good fellow. Excellent talker, but he was not the sort of man who paid his debts. I’ve never liked men who can pretend to be a true friend, but who will never help a friend, no matter how much they have been helped.
He couldn’t handle his liquor either. You acted as a proper gentleman, sir. ”
Darcy inclined his head in return.
There was nothing else to do.
He saw it again. The clearing. The way Wickham collapsed. The feel in his hand as he pulled the trigger.
Mr. Bennet cheerfully asked, “Are you coming into the fort? There are some fine 42-pounders to see.”
“Mr. Darcy is too fatigued.” Elizabeth did not give Darcy a chance to answer.
Darcy liked the tone of ownership with which she spoke about his wellbeing, and he found that he did not bridle at being told what would be best for him, because he trusted Elizabeth to have a good sense of what was best, and because she sincerely cared for him.
“I shall stay here also—Emily, I can see that you wish to stay with us.”
“Mama.”
Elizabeth took the girl who first climbed onto her lap, but who then climbed from there into Mr. Darcy’s lap. She then hopped down and walked over to look at the stones amongst the grass on the side of the walk.
The others entered the fortifications, led by George who vibrated and started running, only to be called back to a standstill by a shout from both Mr. Bennet and Captain Pike.
“Did you know,” Elizabeth said when they had all disappeared, “I read once that the majority of duels are fought between officers—they must make challenges and accept them, as they are expected to keep a reputation for courage and indifference to personal safety. Thus we lose a not inconsiderable number of our best warriors to such encounters.”
Darcy nodded. He was thinking about shooting Mr. Wickham.