Chapter Thirty-Four #2
“His dearest friend?” Elizabeth was gratified by this and smiled brightly.
A fortnight ago, she might have been chagrined, might have feared she was only his friend, but she had come to comprehend that a friendship like theirs was the most delightful foundation for an enduring love, and too much had passed between her and Mr. Darcy for Elizabeth to doubt that he felt the same.
“Is that not what you have been to him? I do not mean to suggest that he is not violently in love with you – I perceived in an instant the way he looks at you – but you have been kinder to him than he has been to himself in recent months. Even now, when you must be keen to acquaint yourself with his sister – for he has praised your natural ease in making friends, thus my candor – you have instead gone to the trouble of ensuring that he might speak privately with Georgie and me. He noticed it, and I know he is grateful to you.”
Elizabeth was moved by the colonel’s words, and gave him a genuine smile. “I hope you have well and truly made amends with Mr. Darcy; he has anguished a great deal over your estrangement.”
“Our estrangement indeed! I ought to warn you, Miss Bennet, that my cousin is a man of hidden depths and tender sentiments he has sadly been taught to conceal. He is prone to punishing himself, which is just what he had done; even at her angriest, his sister would not have wished him half wretched in his remorse.”
Elizabeth smiled to herself at hearing Miss Bingley’s cruel assertion so credibly contradicted.
“He has not concealed his feelings from me, Colonel. When first we met, I was entirely aware of his dislike of me, and he told me plainly that he distrusted me. He has since then come to know all my secrets – which would and shall shock exceedingly – and he has likewise told me a great deal that has demonstrated his noble spirit and his capacity for love. But I hope you mean to hint that his sister was never as cross with him as he feared.”
“Oh, she was – for a time. Surely, Miss Bennet, a woman as spirited as yourself must have been a great tumult of rebellion at sixteen. But motherhood and widowhood has cooled her youthful passions, and her safety in my parents’ home has allowed her time to think more reasonably.
Darcy has kept his distance, and perhaps that has done some good, but she wants only to feel like affection to be coaxed into rediscovering her own, for she always adored him. ”
“And I suppose she must be assured that he will bestow that same affection on his niece. I had hoped to meet young Miss Darcy.”
The colonel smiled with wistful tenderness.
“I told her she ought to bring little Margaret with us; Georgie wants only a little more encouragement from her brother to send for her child. I daresay she shall have it, and you are to thank for that – not everybody has the temerity to speak sense to Darcy.”
“Make no mistake – I have also spoken a great deal of nonsense to him.”
“Yes, I know,” the colonel said with a cheerful guffaw. “That is good for him, too.”
In a short space of time, Elizabeth quickly decided that she and the colonel were to be friends; he was exactly what she might have wished in an elder brother, and she was glad that such a gentleman had been at Mrs. Darcy’s side as she recovered from her ordeal.
When they all dined together that evening, Elizabeth was given a chance to become better acquainted with Georgiana Darcy, and the timid young widow began to grow easier in company.
Miss Bingley had reached insufferable new heights of snobbery after believing she had triumphed over Elizabeth, but both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet made an uncommon effort to check her, and Elizabeth was resolved to put young Mrs. Darcy at ease by laughing away their hostess’s insolence.
Elizabeth felt she did well in this endeavor, but what gratified her more was her father’s evident displeasure with his lady; she was confident that he had overheard all that she wished him to, when she walked with Miss Bingley.
The harpy excused herself from the table before dessert was served, and the rest of the evening was all the merrier for her absence.
Mr. Bingley had a great deal to say, both in praise of his betrothed and all the neighborhood, and about the festivities he had planned for the morrow.
“The lake may not be such a novelty to you, Darcy, since you had a most agreeable swim this morning, but I have gone to great lengths to procure some little row boats for us to traverse it tomorrow, and there will be every manner of games and refreshments to occupy us outdoors.”
When Mr. Bingley mentioned swimming, Mr. Bennet looked pointedly at his daughter, his brows raised high. At Elizabeth’s side, Mr. Darcy gave in to a soft rumble of laughter. He gazed at her with unmasked affection and whispered, “I will speak to him, Elizabeth, I promise.”
Though he had attempted some discretion, it was evident his sister had heard him cross the table, and she fairly squealed with excitement. “Oh, William! Really? How wonderful!”
Elizabeth gave the girl a playful smile and brought one finger to her lips in a gesture of secrecy. “Let us not outshine Mr. Bingley; I have been a supporter of his match, and I daresay you will like Emma Woodhouse a vast deal. Sometimes I think that she and I are more like twins than….”
Elizabeth was interrupted by Mr. Darcy loudly clearing his throat, and he subtly nudged her with his elbow. “Tomorrow is sure to be full of amusement, and perhaps even some lovely surprises,” he said enigmatically.
His sister looked astonished by this, and Elizabeth only smiled. Now that Jane was past her wretchedness, perhaps she might enjoy a reprise of the fanfare that had accompanied the revelation of their resemblance, now that there were newcomers in their midst.
After dinner, the party withdrew all together to the dining room, with the exception of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet.
Charlotte entreated Mrs. Hurst to open the instrument and offered to turn the pages for her; that lady had evidently learnt enough from her sister's unpopularity, and she acquiesced pleasantly enough.
While the colonel demanded a more comprehensive account of Emma’s endless allure from Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth sat with Mrs. Darcy, who encouraged her to use her Christian name.
“You must call me Georgiana, and I hope you will permit me to call you Elizabeth; else I suspect it shall grow confusing ere long.”
Elizabeth blushed as she took in Georgiana’s meaning – that soon they would both be called Mrs. Darcy.
She knew not whether she ought to demur until everything had been officially settled with her beloved, or if she should boldly own to her hopes and wishes – in fact, she began to feel a little groggy.
Certainly the activities of the day – especially her swim – had been exerting, but she found herself growing rapidly exhausted.
She murmured something kind but muddled about having always wanted a sister, and now been pleased to acquire another, but she could see from Georgiana’s confusion that she had not expressed herself well.
Georgiana yawned and nestled back against the sofa, and Elizabeth felt an overpowering urge to do the same.
She fought to keep her eyes open and looked about the room.
It was no great surprise that Mr. Hurst was dozing, but his wife was playing uncommonly ill, and as Charlotte attempted to turn the page in the music, she clumsily knocked it to the floor and gave a breathy laugh.
Mrs. Hurst laughed and gave a sluggish wave of her hand, muttering, “Well, never mind.” She stood and lurched away from the instrument, declaring that she would retire at once.
Across the room, Mr. Bingley stretched his arms out indecorously, and gave a rapid shake of his head, blinking his eyes several times before slumping back in his chair. “I say, Richard – I thought I should never tire of singing Emma’s praises, but I am beastly tired, old fellow.”
Charlotte had sunk onto the piano stool as soon as Mrs. Hurst vacated it, and wore a glazed look as she yawned. “It is rather sleepy in here,” she mumbled.
Elizabeth gave a dizzy laugh, both mortified that she should be so lackluster at a moment when she wished to make a good impression, and concerned that Georgiana was also on the verge of slumbering where she sat. “Perhaps we have enjoyed ourselves sufficiently for one day; we ought to retire.”
Mr. Bingley waved languidly at Elizabeth. “I have assigned your new sister the room next to you – would you be so kind as to show her? I shall have to crawl to bed on my hands and knees, I fear.”
Elizabeth rallied herself to rise from the sofa, feeling a vague sense of unease at the turn the evening had taken.
Only the colonel, a large and muscular man whose strength might have been imposing but for his mirth, seemed alert and unbothered.
He surveyed them all with a curious expression before helping Charlotte and Georgiana to their feet.
The two ladies each linked arms with Elizabeth, and the colonel went back to chide Mr. Bingley as he hauled the smaller man out of his chair.
Elizabeth and her friends took slow, soporific steps into the corridor, where they found Alice the maid waiting just outside the doorway.
She appeared to be waiting for Elizabeth, and wrung her hands anxiously.
“Oh, Miss Bennet, I am so sorry – let me help you!” Alice steadied Charlotte, which in turn made it easier for Elizabeth to lead Georgiana down the corridor.
“Miss Bingley’s maid Susan was boasting of how she helped her mistress play a nasty trick on you all,” Alice said. “She dosed the custard with sleeping draught.”
“Ah, that is why she absented herself from dessert,” Elizabeth mused. She had a vague notion that Miss Bingley wished to spoil the evening for those who most wished to grow better acquainted, but had not the wherewithal to express her suspicions.
Behind the ladies, Colonel Fitzwilliam was half dragging Mr. Bingley out of the parlor. The latter gave a loud groan. “I shall speak to her tomorrow, when I have the energy to be angry.”
Alice helped the three ladies to their rooms, and rang for another pair of maids to attend to Georgiana and Charlotte while she helped Elizabeth dress for bed.
A longing to be beneath her warm blankets consumed Elizabeth, and thankfully Alice worked quickly.
She bid the maid take a guinea from her reticule for her quick thinking and loyal aid, and then she sank back comfortably into her pillows.
Her last conscious thought was a brief worry that Mr. Darcy might have grown too tired to speak properly with her father, but she gave a dreamy shake of her head, knowing it must all work out for the best.