Chapter Eleven
Three days of nothing but singing, storytime, games with her young cousins, and the rest afforded by the otherwise empty house was a balm to Elizabeth’s spirits.
Georgiana and Lady Priscilla took tea with Elizabeth and the children on the second day, and Elizabeth took an invitation to Matlock House for tea with Lady Matlock with a promise to send their reply the moment her aunt returned from Hertfordshire.
Priscilla made no secret that they had left Meryton in outrage at Jane’s insult to Georgiana, and that Jane would face social consequences for the snub in London.
Elizabeth could do nothing but be candid with her friends, for they had perceived Jane’s intent in a way that no one else saw or understood. Perhaps it was because they did not know her, had no preconceived notions of her temper, and unlike Mr Bingley, were not infatuated with Jane.
“I am truly sorry, Georgiana.” Elizabeth was truly sad.
“The only excuse I can give for her is that perhaps Jane is not used to young ladies of rank in Meryton. In our village, because Netherfield is not permanently inhabited, our family is almost the leading family of Meryton, besides the Gouldings, and they have no daughters. Jane is used to nearly all of the other young ladies in the village being beneath her in rank, even if she never openly said so or behaved that way. It seems to me that my sister did not take into account your family, only your age.”
“Mrs Bingley will learn to take our family into account,” Lady Priscilla promised.
“Not that I will ruin your sister, Lizzy. I would not wish to do that to you, no matter how our family’s pride was pricked.
But if Mr Bingley ever hoped for the distinction of his wife being acknowledged or assisted in society by Darcy’s connections, he will be disappointed.
We will not seek to shun her, but neither will Mrs Bingley ever benefit from her husband’s friendship with my cousin.
Darcy agrees that in the future, Mr Bingley must be content with only Darcy’s friendship and nothing more.
Mrs Bingley will never be received at Darcy House or Matlock House. ”
“I do not think Jane has ever committed an offence that created consequences for herself,” Elizabeth mused. “It will certainly come as a shock. I wonder when she will call upon my aunt after she arrives in London.”
Once her aunt and uncle returned to town, Mr Darcy began to pay his own calls upon Elizabeth, apparently unbeknownst to his sister and cousin.
Elizabeth’s face flamed in surprise and uncertainty when he appeared in the parlour bearing hothouse roses the day after her aunt and uncle returned from Meryton.
They walked in the park across the street from the house while Elizabeth burned with uncertainty. She had not expected roses…not in December–and not carried with such determination in Mr Darcy’s hand–as though their very survival was imperative to him.
The man had been kind to her, but this attention was a total surprise.
Until he appeared in her aunt’s drawing room, she had tried not to think of him except as the impossibly kind and generous brother and cousin of her friends.
It never seemed possible to her that he might display genuine interest of this kind.
“Thank you for the roses, I have never seen their equal,” Elizabeth began as they strolled on a path followed at some distance by her aunt’s maid.
“They are from the small conservatory that my father had built at Darcy House for my mother’s pleasure.” Darcy smiled down at her. “I cannot claim the credit, for that would be a terrible misrepresentation of my gardener’s talents.”
“I must be certain to praise his efforts extravagantly, should I ever meet him.” Elizabeth coloured at the forwardness of her remark and looked away.
“Miss Elizabeth.” His voice was a low murmur as she met his gaze hesitantly.
“We have already acknowledged our comfort in one another’s company, or…
at least I have. Let us not lose such a precious blessing to awkwardness.
You are my friend, and my sister’s friend foremost. I hope you will come to know the gardens at Darcy House intimately. ”
A dog raced past, chasing a stick that was thrown by a small boy. “Bring it back, Charlie!” the lad called. His spaniel did not disappoint him. Elizabeth watched, charmed by the spectacle, then summoned her courage and met Mr Darcy’s gaze.
“Of course you are right,” she agreed. “Are you pleased to be back in town, Mr Darcy?”
He considered his answer for a moment and replied, “You asked once whether I found London and its society oppressive.”
“I recall that conversation,” she said. “Your response was to speak very well of the merits of the country.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “I believe I restrained my panegyrics for Pemberley with considerable effort.”
“I cannot imagine you delivering raptures,” she teased.
“I am as capable of raptures as the next man,” he confessed. “When the subject deserves it.”
“I have heard enough of the merits of Pemberley to believe you,” Elizabeth assured him.
“From everyone…Georgiana, Mr and Miss Bingley, your cousin, my cousin, why…even my aunt has informed me of the perfection of Pemberley. Perhaps you might elaborate upon the merits of the land. The facade of the house and the gardens I have heard of from my aunt. The park and the walking paths must be positively divine.”
Darcy’s eyes sparkled as he thought of his home. “Pemberley sits in a valley. The river runs close enough to the house to be heard in the summer when the nights are still and the windows are open.”
“And the woods?” Elizabeth asked in sincere interest.
“There are woods on both sides of the house…old woods. Not new trees planted for effect. If one chooses their path well, they might walk for hours without reaching a boundary.”
“That sounds dangerously inviting,” Elizabeth marveled. “I fear I would be lost to such paths forever.”
He beamed as a recollection took him. “I spent my boyhood learning every path with Geo–ah–my boyhood friend, and my cousin Richard.
There is a limestone outcrop beyond the west pastures.
My cousin Richard and I once declared ourselves highwaymen, and informed the butler that our days safe at home were at an end, and to pass along our regards to our mothers.
We built a shelter there under the outcrop out of fallen wood and thought ourselves kings…
“And how long did your brave and reckless new life endure?”
“Until supper.” He gave her a dazzling smile, and she was momentarily speechless by how handsome he was.
Oh dear. I believe I am in some danger. I do hope Priscilla and Georgie will not object if anything comes of this attention. A handsome face I might withstand, but one such as this, with such kindness, such gentlemanly behaviour…and the walking paths…I fear I might be lost.
Mr Darcy was lost in his memories. “There is a great oak tree deep in the woods, far from the house. So far, one might forget the place altogether. The bark is carved with the names of generations of Darcys who lived at Pemberley. My father took me there as a boy and explained that Pemberley did not belong to us as much as we belong to the land.”
“You miss him,” Elizabeth said, studying his face closely.
“There is hardly an instant when I do not miss him. He was an excellent man. Unlike those fathers who withhold their power until their last breath, leaving their sons ill prepared, he involved me in every part of the estate from my early boyhood. And still, I found myself floundering when I lost him. I could have happily worked Pemberley by his side for many decades without the slightest resentment.” He seemed to realise that his thoughts had wandered.
“We must return. I would not like your aunt to think I was a rascal.”
“I do not think my aunt could imagine such a thing of a Darcy.” Elizabeth turned on the path with him. “She holds the memory of your parents in such high regard, she could never believe any ill of you.”
The two spoke of the weather and other inanities as they returned to the house, but Elizabeth felt that something had changed between them.
Mr Darcy was no longer only the brother of her friend.
He was a man of great substance, sharing private pieces of himself with her with obviously deliberate intent.
Her thoughts swirled as they returned to the house and he took his leave of her aunt.
“Well, Lizzy, did you ever expect such attention?” Her aunt watched his carriage pull away from the window. “Why Lizzy, you look worried.”
“Aunt, please, when Jane comes, do not speak of it,” Elizabeth begged.
Her aunt’s face fell. “Oh, Lizzy. To be sure, Jane’s nerves unsettled her just before her wedding, but I am sure she would ne–”
“Aunt, please!” Elizabeth grasped her aunt’s hand insistently.
Mrs Gardiner looked sad, but ultimately agreed. “Very well, Lizzy. You may tell her in your own time. She is your sister.”
Mr and Mrs Gardiner were back in residence for a full week before Jane paid her aunt a visit.
Elizabeth nor the Gardiners expected her for a fortnight or more, considering her recent nuptials, and so they were not at home, instead out taking tea with Lady Matlock.
Jane returned the following day, and confessed her perturbation to not having found her aunt and sister at home.
“I confess, I thought I might find you waiting to receive my first visit as Mrs Bingley, I was quite surprised to learn that Lizzy and Lady Priscilla took up with one another again so quickly, especially considering the cause of Lizzy’s flight to London.
” Jane accepted a cup of tea from her aunt as she and Mr Bingley sat closely together on the settee.
Mr Bingley, at least, seemed to be in the throes of happiness, and could hardly let go of his wife’s hand, even to take a plate of biscuits. Elizabeth was happy to see that her sister’s marriage seemed loving and affectionate.