Chapter XV
Longbourn appeared peaceful. Appearances, however, can be deceiving.
Throughout the drive from Meryton north past Lucas Lodge and on to Longbourn, Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy, examining his expression as the carriage proceeded toward the estate, wondering what he made of it.
For a reason she could not even define herself, it was important to Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy saw the worth of her family’s home and estate, even if it was much less than his own.
Elizabeth could not read his expression, for though she watched him, Mr. Darcy offered no comment.
The most she could say was that he did not look on what he saw with a critical eye.
When Elizabeth followed his gaze, she saw fields of grain that would ripen within the next six weeks, bounty the tenants would then sell to ensure they could pay their rents on the quarter day.
The scene was orderly, the fields well maintained, and for that, she could take pride.
Mr. Bennet was not the most diligent master, but he was not inclined to allow chaos.
“This is the first time I will visit Longbourn,” murmured Mr. Darcy as the carriage approached Longbourn village on the edge of sight.
“You did not visit when you were in town?” asked Mr. Gardiner.
Mr. Darcy turned and offered a helpless shrug. “As Miss Bennet can no doubt inform you, I was not in the best humor when I was here. I left the visiting to Bingley’s sisters, and to be frank, Bingley and Hurst rarely accompanied them.”
“Except when Mr. Bingley announced the ball,” said Elizabeth. “He came to Longbourn to deliver the invitation himself.”
“And you have no notion of the displeasure that created,” said a wry Mr. Darcy. “Miss Bingley contended that footmen could deliver the invitation to your family like anyone else.”
“Mama called it a compliment to Jane.” Elizabeth thought for a moment, then amended: “She was referring to the ball itself, but none of us misunderstood Mr. Bingley’s gesture in delivering the invitation in person.”
“And so it was,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “Miss Bingley did not oppose her brother’s wish to hold a ball—she thought it an excellent way to display her talents to all the neighborhood; I did not misunderstand her underlying motive.”
Elizabeth laughed. “No, I cannot suppose you did. The need to impress the neighborhood paled in comparison with her need to show her accomplishments to you.”
“This manner in which you speak of Miss Bingley is droll,” said Uncle Gardiner, dry as a bone. “Why, I found her unassuming, though perhaps a little uncommunicative.”
“If only she were always that way with me,” said Mr. Darcy, “I would be entirely satisfied.”
Mr. Gardiner nodded. “I hope, sir, that she now understands the lay of the land.”
“I shall not relate all of the matter, but Miss Bingley is no longer in any doubt of my sentiments.”
Though they all approved, they dropped the subject.
By this time, the carriage was entering the village.
The late afternoon sunlight cast dappled shadows across the road beneath the trees, and Elizabeth could hear the blacksmith’s hammer as they rolled past. Beyond the village, the carriage turned through the gates of Longbourn and proceeded up the drive.
When the driver pulled the team to a halt before the door, a footman opened the door, and they all stepped out, stretching muscles stiff from sitting in one attitude too long.
Then Longbourn’s door opened, and three young women spilled out onto the drive, followed by the dependable form of Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper.
Elizabeth went at once to her sisters, greeting them with quiet affection, but she knew she did not have their attention. Instead, they were gazing past her to the large carriage, and Mr. Darcy standing near Mr. Gardiner, gazing about with interest.
“Lizzy!” exclaimed Kitty, the least able to hold her tongue, “how did you come to be in Mr. Darcy’s company?”
Before Elizabeth could respond or Jane reprimand Kitty for her question, Mr. Darcy stepped forward.
The gentleman stopped before each of the sisters, greeting them and bowing over their hands, much to Elizabeth’s amusement.
From the expressions adorning each of their faces—even calm, imperturbable Jane—he had shocked them to the core.
Mr. Gardiner approached them. “Hello, girls.” Then he grinned at Kitty. “I know there was gossip in the neighborhood last year—do you not recall where Mr. Darcy’s estate lies?”
“I would never have thought you would meet Mr. Darcy there,” protested Kitty.
“Let us go inside,” said Mr. Gardiner. “There is a tale to tell and little time to relate it, but I am certain Lizzy will do her best before we must depart again.”
Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth noted, had already spoken to Mrs. Hill, who was even now guiding her into the house and, presumably, to Mrs. Bennet’s bedchambers. Though still uncertain, Jane remembered her manners.
“Of course, Uncle. Welcome to Longbourn, Mr. Darcy. Will you not come inside?”
Jane led the way, with Elizabeth, Uncle Gardiner, and Mr. Darcy following, while Mary and Kitty brought up the rear.
Mary was speaking in low tones to Kitty, no doubt reminding her to keep her emotions in check.
Kitty had been quieter since Lydia departed, though Elizabeth was certain that was the simple lack of her usual partner in mayhem.
Perhaps they could make her changes permanent with a little guidance.
“Lizzy,” said Jane when they entered the sitting-room. “Will you not come with me for a moment?”
“Of course, Jane,” said Elizabeth, knowing her sister wanted a private explanation.
“You did not inform us that you were to come with Mr. Darcy,” said Jane when they left the room.
“There was no time,” replied Elizabeth. “We departed soon after your letters arrived and at such speed as the carriage could attain.”
Jane regarded her, curiosity nigh overwhelming. As Mrs. Hill had gone above stairs with Mrs. Gardiner, Jane instructed the maid to request a tea service and refreshments to be delivered at once. When this was done, she turned back to Elizabeth.
“Kitty’s question was not proper, but I am no less astonished at your arrival with Mr. Darcy. Will you not explain how you came across him, and why he has accompanied you to Longbourn?”
Time was pressing, but Elizabeth thought she had some few moments to assuage her sister’s curiosity.
The majority would come out when their mother descended, but she would not learn all—Jane already knew much of it, including the proposal at Hunsford and Elizabeth’s changing impression of the gentleman.
“I have not the time to go into detailed explanations,” said Elizabeth. “When we were in Derbyshire, we toured Pemberley, Mr. Darcy’s estate. There, I came across him by chance.”
Jane appeared dubious. “By chance, Lizzy? Were you not in his home?”
Elizabeth laughed and touched Jane’s hand. “Yes, I was, but Mr. Darcy was not in his home until that moment. Had we left fifteen minutes earlier, I might never have come across him.”
“That is interesting, Lizzy, but it does not apply to the subject.”
“It does, when you consider that Mr. Darcy was eager to reestablish the acquaintance. We dined at Pemberley, and were in their company several more times.
“Miss Darcy is a dear, by the way,” added Elizabeth. “While I question Miss Bingley’s motivations for speaking of her in such warm terms, what she said was not incorrect.”
“Lizzy,” said Jane, her tone suggesting waning patience, “you have not yet explained why Mr. Darcy is here. A reestablished acquaintance aside, you only had a few days there. How did he even know about our troubles?”
“Mr. Darcy came upon me a moment after I read your letter,” said Elizabeth, sobering at the memory. “He is, as you know, acquainted with Mr. Wickham. When he learned the truth of her current situation, he would not rest until all was made right.”
Jane’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Mr. Darcy has come south with you to find Mr. Wickham and make him marry Lydia?”
“Not exactly,” said Elizabeth, grimacing.
“Mr. Darcy contends—and Uncle agrees—that Mr. Wickham would make an exceedingly poor husband for Lydia. When we find them, he has pledged to discover a man who will overlook her indiscretion in favor of a gentleman’s daughter for a wife and a handsome payment. ”
This did not please Jane’s gentle nature. “Lydia will be most unhappy to be bartered away like that.”
“If you will pardon me, Jane,” replied Elizabeth, keeping her temper even, “Lydia threw away much of the choice she possessed when she ran off with Mr. Wickham. To restore our respectability, she must marry Mr. Wickham or some other man—there is no other way. Mr. Wickham is the greater evil—you must see this.”
Though Jane still hesitated, Elizabeth knew her sister was not deficient. Jane understood how the world worked, the loss of virtue in a sister, and the consequences of being shunned in polite society. In true Jane fashion, she let the disagreement rest and returned to the original discussion.
“Can Mr. Darcy act? Will that not create other problems?”
“It would if he had no connection to us,” replied Elizabeth, her voice going soft.
Jane regarded her, not quite comprehending.
“Mr. Darcy has a connection to us, Jane. He proposed to me, and I have accepted him.”
The way Jane stared at her, Elizabeth was uncertain whether her sister thought she had taken leave of her senses or was simply too surprised to muster a response.
“It is well, Jane,” said Elizabeth, grasping her sister’s shoulder to soothe her.
“But Lizzy, are you in love with him?” asked Jane.
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, looking down at her feet, while she decided how to respond.
When she looked up, she could see tears shining in the corners of Jane’s eyes, a clear sign her sister thought she had bartered away her future for the family’s salvation.
Elizabeth stepped into Jane’s arms and embraced her.