Chapter 3
The Netherfield gentlemen returned to Longbourn before dinner. While Mr Bingley behaved as part of the family, Mr Darcy was silent and more restrained. However, his manners, although reserved, were completely lacking in pride or aloofness.
Everyone shared the drawing room, the gentlemen in one corner and the ladies in another. Jane and Mr Bingley sat together on a settee with Elizabeth joining her eldest sister.
For Elizabeth, Darcy’s presence brought relief, joy, and torment.
She clearly realised how much she had missed him and feared that she would suffer more when he departed again.
From what she knew, he was there only for the ball and his friend’s wedding.
Once those events came to an end, he had no reason to remain.
She was not brave enough to consider or to hope for anything related to herself.
She closely observed him in an attempt to guess his feelings, his thoughts, and his intentions.
Darcy spoke little but paid due attention the various conversations and glanced from one to another, only resting occasionally upon Elizabeth.
His eyes seemed to search for hers and return to her when he had a chance.
Could she hope he was doing so on purpose?
His warm countenance made her flush and made her oblivious to the others.
She found herself foolishly smiling several times without knowing why and missing most of the discussion around her.
To the Bennets’ surprise, Mr Darcy appeared to be on friendly terms with the Gardiners, and their behaviour towards each other was beyond that of mere acquaintances. Even the Gardiner children looked less intimidated by the severe gentleman than Kitty and Mary did.
Mr Bennet was the first to point that out with an interest rarely shown for anything besides his books. He addressed Mr Gardiner decidedly.
“Brother, I was telling Mr Darcy earlier…I am surprised that, despite the regular correspondence we have shared in the last months, you forgot to mention that he visited you at Gracechurch Street several times.”
Elizabeth startled and looked at Darcy—who frowned. Mr Gardiner swallowed some wine and took a few moments before he answered.
“I did not consider that detail of any urgent interest. It is true, however, that we have enjoyed Mr Darcy’s visits on several occasions.”
“Indeed we have,” Mrs Gardiner added. “Ever since Mr Darcy was kind enough to invite us to Pemberley, we have tried to express our gratitude for his generosity. Visiting Pemberley had been my dream since I was a child and lived only five miles away. Truly there is no estate more beautiful or any house more worthy to be admired.”
“I thank you for your kind words, Mrs Gardiner,” Darcy said.
“I assure you that your presence at Pemberley was one of the most pleasant events of this summer, and I hope to repeat it sometime soon. I have already invited Bingley and Miss Bennet to visit us once they are married. It would be my pleasure if you could join them. Of course, the invitation is addressed to Mr and Mrs Bennet too…”
Mrs Bennet’s eyes widened in disbelief, and she seemed to lose her breath.
“Truly? Oh, that is very nice of you, sir—generous indeed! I could not possibly travel so far, but you are truly very kind! I am sure Pemberley is much more handsome than Rosings. Sir William barely speaks of anything but your aunt’s estate since he was in Kent!”
The memory of Kent troubled both Elizabeth and Darcy, and they glanced at each other at the same time, their eyes locking briefly. The distress was easier to bear when they shared it.
“Well, Lizzy can offer a fair opinion since she has visited both places,” Mrs Gardiner declared.
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured even more, and she averted her eyes from Darcy.
“Yes, yes I have…”
“And?” Mrs Bennet inquired hastily.
“And…” Elizabeth breathed then glanced around and met Darcy’s look again.
She recalled meeting him, embarrassed and informally attired as he wandered the grounds of Pemberley—his awkward attempt to start a conversation with her, his kindness to her uncle and aunt—and those precious memories overcame any recollection of their terrible argument at the Parsonage, his arrogant offenses, the fight that tormented her for months afterwards…
Rosings now signified the recollection of that confession spoken with equal passion and severity that betrayed the battle between his heart and his mind, his desire and his duty, his senses and his judgement. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you…”
Did those words still describe his feelings? Was his affection for her still ardent? Were his gentle, warm manners at Pemberley proof of this?
Now he was here, only steps away, looking at her, waiting for her opinion of his home.
He looked different than she remembered him—different than Netherfield last autumn or Kent or even Pemberley.
He had changed. The darkness in his eyes, his tentative smile, his countenance, even the way he held his shoulders, his long fingers gripping the glass—everything was different yet much the same.
She could judge what he allowed her to see but not his feelings for her.
What could she say about Pemberley to do it justice? About his home?
“Rosings is impressive and elegant, and its grandeur is overwhelming. Pemberley is people and nature working together to reach perfection. Its beauty is breathtaking…”
Elizabeth spoke to her family, but she knew her words touched the right soul. She could feel his gaze caressing her face and his smile matching hers. She did not need to see what her heart already felt.
“My dear Lizzy, that is a perfect description of Pemberley,” Mrs Gardiner agreed.
“I only spoke from my heart,” she replied, again looking from her aunt to Darcy.
He understood and answered with a warmth that made her quiver. “Of that, I am certain, and I cannot thank you enough, Miss Elizabeth. Your opinion—always spoken from your heart and your mind—is therefore more worth the earning.”
His look was so intense that she felt lost within it. She knew it too well, as she had seen it—and felt it—in the past at Pemberley. It was the look that kept her awake so many nights. Deep and ardent.
Elizabeth heard people talking around her, but her attention was still drawn to one person only. Finally, she recognised her mother’s voice inviting everybody to dinner and walking close to Mr Darcy, speaking to him. Elizabeth’s alarm increased along with her mother’s glibness.
“I must say, Mr Darcy, you are kinder than I might have imagined. To invite us to Pemberley is astonishing. And you visit my brother in London? That is surely as important as Sir William’s introduction at St. James’s. By the way, have you been there, Mr Darcy?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered obediently, following the lady of the house toward the dinner table.
“And did you ever attend a ball at Almack’s?”
“I have. Four or five times if I remember correctly.”
“Oh dear Lord, that is quite wonderful. I cannot believe how nicely you carry a conversation, sir. Indeed, since you are the friend of my future son, allow me to tell you that this amiability is very becoming. You look even more handsome. Have I told you that?”
“No,” he replied seriously, glancing at Elizabeth one more time.
Elizabeth was flushed with equal embarrassment and amusement. He looked uneasy but not displeased. It was obvious that he made an effort to bear a rather uncomfortable conversation, but he did so diligently.
So lost was she in her thoughts, that she startled when her father took her arm, interrupting her musings.
“You know, Lizzy, I was enchanted to hear about Pemberley, but it seemed to be an attempt to change the subject and avoid telling me about Mr Darcy’s calls to Gracechurch Street.”
She chose her words carefully while avoiding her father’s scrutiny.
“What is to tell, Papa? It seems Mr Darcy and my uncle enjoy each other’s company. Is that so difficult to believe?”
“No, probably not. Well, Mr Darcy seems to have changed his opinion exceedingly. He shows extraordinary patience in answering your mother’s questions and is in danger of becoming her favourite. And he seems to consider you tolerable enough to value your opinion.”
“Papa, do not make such jokes!” Elizabeth scolded her father in a low voice, frightened that Darcy might hear them.
He patted her arm with obvious amusement. “There, there, Lizzy, do not be so serious. We must find a reason to laugh among all these preparations for the ball and the wedding. They are a danger to my sanity.”
Elizabeth calmed herself after a few moments. She sat at the table between Jane and her aunt. Mr Bingley was on Mr Bennet’s right, while Mr Darcy was placed between Mr Bennet and Mr Gardiner.
As dinner was served and the conversation continued, Elizabeth saw her father glance at Darcy frequently. She knew her father well enough to understand that his suspicions were still unsatisfied, and he would not abandon his quest to find out more about the situation that raised his curiosity.
“Mr Darcy, I understand we have you to thank for the ball,” Mrs Bennet addressed their guest again. “I confess we were surprised, as we all know how much you dislike such parties.”
“Please be sure that you do not have to thank me for anything, ma’am. And it is not about my preferences. It is to Bingley’s merit that he planned a ball to celebrate his engagement and wedding. Any man who enters into marriage with such affection and happiness would do the same.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured as she felt his look upon her. Luckily, nobody gave her much attention as Mr Bingley intervened cheerfully.
“About one thing, Darcy is right. I doubt there is a man happier to marry than I am.” Bingley smiled and kissed his betrothed’s hand, much to the company’s amusement.