Chapter 13 #4
“However, in one respect you have been utterly wrong: never, not for a second were my intentions toward Miss Elizabeth anything but honourable! I assure you, sir, that more than anything I was bewitched by the liveliness of her mind, her wit and her uncommon understanding. I knew her behaviour was beyond reproach, and I could not have dared to think otherwise. Anything dishonourable regarding Miss Elizabeth was far from my mind at that time or at any time. Since I was not considering making her an offer, I was certain that my admiration would remain without an object as soon as I left Hertfordshire and that I would never see her again.”
Mr Bennet listened with equal attention and astonishment. Seeing a man so private, so restrained making such a declaration involving his most secret thoughts was difficult to fathom.
“I must have been too rushed in judging you in this regard, Mr Darcy. However, since we have reached this point, I cannot help but wonder how it happened that your opinion about marriage and the necessary wealth of your future wife changed so dramatically?”
“Well, it happened one day last April when I was properly humbled and shown how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
Mr Bennet’s quizzical look made Darcy smile bitterly as the memory of those moments and the mortifications of sharing them with his future father-in-law caused greater distress.
“It was the day I presented myself to Miss Elizabeth and asked her to accept my offer of marriage. I came to her without a doubt of my reception, and her answer was a most painful yet well-deserved punishment.”
Mr Bennet’s shock made him abruptly stand as he frowned, staring at his visitor in utter disbelief. “You made Lizzy an offer last April? But last April she was in Kent.”
“You are correct, sir; I was visiting my aunt at Rosings Park.”
“And she refused you?”
“She did, sir, and she was correct to do so.”
“And…you asked her again?”
“I did, sir, but not before I was certain I would succeed in improving her opinion of me. You see, sir, I unexpectedly met Miss Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner in London in June and…”
For more than half an hour Darcy revealed their entire history to a deeply shocked and utterly astonished Mr Bennet.
When he reached the part of the narrative concerning Lydia’s elopement, he tried nonchalantly to pass over those moments, but Mr Bennet did not allow him to escape so easily.
At that point, Darcy refused to debate the subject further, abruptly continuing with the reasons he returned to Hertfordshire.
Mr Bennet’s eyebrows remained arched in wonder.
“So you see, sir,” concluded Darcy, “I am certain, after all these months and our particular history, that Miss Elizabeth did not accept my second proposal for the wrong reasons.”
Mr Bennet remained speechless for a time.
The man in front of him was someone he was just beginning to know and understand, someone who surely deserved more consideration than he, the father of the bride, had given him so far.
He realised he owed Mr Darcy an apology.
In fact, he was fairly certain he owed Mr Darcy far more than he would ever be able to repay.
“Mr Darcy, I thank you for your generosity in confessing all these things to me. I imagine how difficult it must have been for you, and I know you did it to put my worries aside. Your effort is not unappreciated, sir.”
“If I have managed to clarify your misunderstandings and make it easier for us to collaborate for Elizabeth’s peace and happiness, then that is all the reward I need, sir.”
“Then you may consider yourself rewarded. I have no misunderstandings left, sir, and feel I need to apologise again for my harsh words.”
Darcy insisted there was no reason to apologise, and Mr Bennet ceased to offer them any longer; instead, he said Mr Gardiner expressed great admiration for Pemberley’s library and for its streams and lakes, and that became the next subject of conversation.
Of course, Darcy assured him there would be no need for formal invitations and he would be more than welcome there at any time.
When Elizabeth returned, bringing a tray of food for them, she could sense things had changed. The expression on both gentlemen’s faces softened when she entered, and she smiled at them—the two men who were dearest to her heart.
“Lizzy, have you informed your mother about your engagement?” asked Mr Bennet. “Considering the silence in the house, I should guess not.”
“No, I have not,” Elizabeth answered as she served them tea and coffee. Darcy hurried to help her with the cups. Mr Bennet smiled with satisfaction.
“In fact, Papa, I was thinking—considering Jane and Mr Bingley’s engagement—that we should keep ours secret a few more days. I mean, now that you have given us your consent.”
“Ah, I see,” smiled Mr Bennet. “So you want to keep your intended away from your mother’s enthusiasm a little longer; now that I have given you my consent, you could feel engaged without sharing it with the others for some time.
Hmm, Lizzy, that is not fair of you—to let only poor Jane and Mr Bingley be the recipients of your mother’s loudly expressed satisfaction. ”
Elizabeth blushed, and Darcy smiled to hide his embarrassment.
“Well then, let it be as you wish. Considering I gave Mr Bingley not the least bit of the hard time I gave poor Mr Darcy when he applied for my consent, it is only just that he suffer a little more in other areas. You may announce your engagement whenever you please. Just try to do it when I am not in the same room with your mama and preferably not during dinner. Promise me this, will you? And let me know when you decide what date to have your wedding, Lizzy, so I am in attendance to play my part in accompanying you to the altar.”
He continued to tease them a bit longer until they finished eating and having their coffee. An hour later, when Mr Bingley arrived to invite them to Netherfield for dinner, the discussion in the library remained animated.
∞∞∞
Caroline Bingley had just awoken when she received her sister’s letter, sent by express.
She read it a few times, threw it on her bed and rang for her maid.
So, stupid Charles let himself get trapped by that Jane Bennet.
What a fool! And now Louisa demanded that she quickly return to Netherfield.
Why on earth did Louisa need her? Surely, there was nothing to do about the engagement once it was made public.
She did not want to leave London! What was there for her to do in Hertfordshire?
To bear the impertinence of Lady Cassandra?
To be annoyed by that insupportable chit, Eliza Bennet?
How could she abandon the select and most elegant company of Lady Sophia?
And, most of all, how could she leave the presence of Lord Markham, the most charming gentleman she could ever imagine?
Mr Darcy was nothing in comparison—not in wealth, charm or politeness.
Lord Markham was everything Caroline ever dreamed of in a gentleman and in a suitor.
He was ever so kind to her, always seeking her company, pretending to be interested in her relatives, in Netherfield, even in Darcy, Lady Cassandra and those boring Bennets.
To Caroline’s utter satisfaction, neither Lord Markham nor Lady Sophia seemed to hold Lady Cassandra in high esteem—and why would they? The woman was pure impertinence with an abominable sense of independence.
Thinking of this fresh news, Caroline noticed that she was not as bothered by it as she thought she would be.
So Charles will marry Jane Bennet…that was it!
Her only concern was the reaction of her new friends and especially of Lord Markham.
Would the unfortunate alliance diminish her chances of happiness?
If that were the case, she would never forgive Charles for ruining her brilliant future.
Lady Markham—how lovely that sounds, indeed!
She hurried to prepare herself. Once more, she was invited to tea at Lady Sophia’s—the third time in a week—and Lord Markham would be there, too. She would handle the situation to her advantage; yes she would. She was a very clever woman; everybody said so. The future Lady Markham!
∞∞∞
Lady Cassandra remained in a corner of the drawing room, looking around attentively. Dinner was over, and the gentlemen separated from the ladies for less than a quarter of an hour.
Earlier that day, when he returned from Longbourn, Darcy shared with her the news of his engagement with such enthusiasm that she could not help laughing at him.
He looked like a schoolboy, she told him, and he did not protest. He only insisted that their engagement remain a secret as only Mr Bennet and Georgiana had been informed.
Secret indeed. She smiled to herself. It was enough to look at both Darcy and Elizabeth to see they were betraying their arrangement with every fibre of their being: every gesture, every word, and every stolen glance.
However, she promised to keep their secret.
Her eyes were drawn toward Elizabeth and Jane Bennet—such an astonishing difference between them.
Not such a classic beauty as her sister, Elizabeth Bennet looked more beautiful in a lively, joyful, vivid way.
They were both happy, that was obvious, but while Jane Bennet was smiling toward her intended, Elizabeth Bennet was laughing with her eyes and her whole being—she was laughing at her betrothed and at life itself.
Her happiness was palpable, as was the bond between her and Darcy.
Their connection was evident in many particulars: the way they searched for each other’s eyes, the way she blushed every time their gazes met, and the way Darcy stared lovingly at her No, they certainly could not keep their engagement secret for long!
Lady Cassandra turned her attention toward Charles Bingley. He talked of nothing but their engagement and the ball about which he had asked her opinion to complete the list of guests.
The ball that David Fitzwilliam will also attend—no doubt about that.
Lady Cassandra had thought about it innumerable times that day since she had seen his name at the top of the list. Although she hated herself for it, she had to admit she was anxious and desirous to see him again. She felt helpless and defeated—again.