Chapter Twenty-Eight
Meryton
Elizabeth
Elizabeth found Jane later that morning in her room, seated by the window with some mending forgotten in her lap.
She shut the door behind her with rather more care than usual, for what she had come to say seemed to require a privacy which an open door at Longbourn could never be trusted to provide.
“Jane,” she began, watching her sister eye her with some suspicion, “I must tell you something, and I hardly know how to begin it properly.”
Jane set aside her mending at once. “I thought you looked like someone swollen with a secret at breakfast. Thank goodness I did not have to ask before you offered to speak. Now sit down and tell me.”
Elizabeth sat beside her and related, as plainly as she could, what had passed upon Oakham Mount.
She told Jane of meeting Mr. Darcy there, of the unexpected turn their conversation had taken, and finally of his asking permission to pay his addresses to her.
By the time she reached her own promise to consider him, she was conscious that she had spoken rather faster than the story required.
Jane had listened without interruption, but the pleasure in her expression had grown impossible to mistake. “Lizzy. Mr. Darcy wishes to court you.”
“He does.” Elizabeth could not prevent a smile of her own.
“And he was very proper about it. He asked nothing of me beyond permission to speak to Papa if I should decide his attentions were agreeable to me, and gave me as much time as I wished to consider it. Which was very considerate of him, though I confess it did nothing to make thinking any easier.”
Jane reached for her hand. “And what do you think, now that you have had several hours in which to attempt it? I do not mean what Mama would have you think, nor what anyone else might expect of you. What do you wish?”
“I like Mr. Darcy very much, Jane.” Elizabeth's answer came without hesitation.
“He is a gentleman I respect, which is something that has always mattered considerably to me in any man I might think of marrying. He listens to me, even when he disagrees, and never gives me the impression that my opinions are merely to be indulged until he may return to his own. I admire his understanding and his steadiness, and I believe there is a great deal of kindness in him which he takes very little trouble to display.”
Jane's smile deepened. “You have assembled a rather formidable list in his favour.”
“I have not finished.” Elizabeth laughed softly.
“I enjoy his company. I look for him when I enter a room, and when something occurs which particularly amuses or vexes me, I have lately discovered that I wonder what he would make of it. And when I know I am likely to see him...” She hesitated, then smiled at the admission.
“I find I look forward to it rather more than I ought.”
Jane's expression softened, but she said nothing.
“I was pleased when he asked me, Jane. Very pleased. Indeed, for several moments I believe I was so pleased that I scarcely knew what to say to him, which is not a difficulty Mr. Darcy has often managed to produce in me.”
Jane laughed. “Then why did you not accept him?”
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, not because she did not know the answer, but because putting it into words made her own conduct seem faintly ridiculous.
“Because I have known him less than a month.” She shook her head, smiling at herself.
“Had I said yes upon the instant, I believe I should have felt as though I had spent these past three weeks waiting for him to ask me, and I had not. When I first met Mr. Darcy, I had no design upon him whatsoever. I did not speak to him because I wished to be courted, nor walk with him because I expected him to declare himself. I liked him because I liked him, and somewhere along the way I began liking him considerably more than I intended.”
Jane squeezed her hand gently. “And now?”
“Now he has asked me to give an answer to something I had allowed myself to consider only as a possibility before this morning.” Elizabeth glanced towards the window.
“I do not require weeks to discover whether I like Mr. Darcy. I know that already. Nor do I require Mama to tell me what an advantageous match he would be. I should merely like a little time to become accustomed to the idea that what has grown so naturally between us might now become something deliberate.”
“You do not sound very undecided.”
“I am not.” Elizabeth looked back at her sister, and the smile which came then required no effort at all. “I only wish to arrive at my answer before I give it, rather than discover afterwards that I had been carried there by surprise.”
Jane regarded her with quiet affection. “I think Mr. Darcy will understand that.”
Elizabeth suspected he would. There had been something in the quiet certainty with which he had promised her all the time she required, no disappointment, no attempt to persuade her, which made her think he understood already.
Perhaps that was why the memory of him upon Oakham Mount had returned to her so often since she left him there.
She could still recall the grave expression with which he had told her what he wanted, and the warmth in his smile when she had promised him an answer.
The recollection produced a corresponding warmth in her now, one she was very glad only Jane was present to observe.
Jane's eyes narrowed with sudden amusement. “Lizzy, you are blushing.”
“I am doing no such thing.”
“You are.”
Elizabeth withdrew her hand from Jane's and rose with as much dignity as she could summon. “I begin to regret having entrusted you with this.”
“No, you do not.”
Elizabeth reached the door before looking back at her sister. Jane was still smiling at her, and, annoyingly, Elizabeth discovered that she could not prevent herself from doing the same.
“No,” she admitted. “I do not.”
~
Later that afternoon, Mr. Collins complained of having seen very little of Meryton since his arrival, and the Bennet ladies therefore agreed to show him something of the town on their way to visit their aunt, Mrs. Phillips.
Jane declined the expedition upon the excuse of feeling somewhat fatigued, though Elizabeth suspected that avoiding another hour of Mr. Collins's company contributed considerably to her indisposition.
Kitty and Lydia required no persuasion at all, while Mary was strongly encouraged to join them by Mrs. Bennet, who remained convinced that no two people could be better suited than a clergyman and a daughter who read sermons voluntarily.
Elizabeth went partly because she thought Mary might require rescuing before the afternoon was over, and partly because remaining indoors had become impossible while she was still so full of the happiness produced by her conversation with Mr. Darcy that morning.
Kitty and Lydia walked ahead, their attention divided between the shops and every red coat which appeared in the distance, while Mr. Collins had fallen into step beside Mary and was explaining, with great particularity, Lady Catherine's opinion upon some matter Elizabeth could no longer hear.
Left largely to herself, Elizabeth allowed her thoughts to wander in a direction they had returned to with alarming frequency since breakfast.
She thought of Pemberley, which Darcy had described to her on more than one occasion, and found herself attempting to form some picture of a place she had never seen.
More dangerously still, she thought of Georgiana Darcy.
She knew very little of Darcy's sister beyond her age, that she was presently in London, that she was accomplished upon several instruments, and that her brother considered her exceedingly shy.
Darcy had never spoken of Georgiana at any great length.
Elizabeth had wondered at it before, but now the omission seemed more curious, for if she permitted his courtship, she would naturally come to know his sister in time.
And if that courtship should lead where Mr. Darcy plainly hoped it might...
Mrs. Darcy.
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to conceal the smile which appeared at the thought.
It was a ridiculous liberty to take when she had not yet given the gentleman permission to court her, much less promised to marry him, but for once she allowed herself the indulgence.
If she were one day to become Mrs. Darcy, Georgiana would be her sister, and the prospect pleased her despite knowing so little of the girl.
Perhaps affection for the brother had already disposed her towards affection for the sister.
Once their courtship began openly, Elizabeth decided, she might acquire some right to question Darcy more closely upon the subject.
He would undoubtedly answer with that grave reserve of his until she teased sufficient information out of him, but she found herself rather looking forward to the attempt.
They had just passed the market when Lydia gave a sudden exclamation.
“There is Denny! Oh, Kitty, who is that gentleman?”
Elizabeth looked up.
An officer was approaching from the opposite direction, accompanied by a gentleman whom Elizabeth had never seen before.
He was perhaps eight-and-twenty, with a handsome countenance, an easy figure, and an air so immediately agreeable that Lydia's interest required no explanation.
His dress was respectable without being remarkable, and there was something in the openness of his expression which seemed calculated to make acquaintance easy.
Mr. Denny greeted the Bennet sisters with evident pleasure and was scarcely allowed the customary civilities before Lydia demanded an introduction to his companion.
“Miss Lydia, you allow a fellow no mysteries at all,” he said, laughing. “Mr. Wickham has only lately joined us. Wickham, may I present Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet, and...” His voice faltered as he looked towards the gentleman standing behind them.