Chapter 14
Fourteen
Dinner passed without incident, though Elizabeth found the quiet of the table far preferable to the agitation her mother’s presence would have ensured.
Mrs Bennet had remained upstairs after being informed of the plan for a Wednesday morning wedding, and Lydia likewise did not appear, still being restricted to the nursery.
The remainder of the party—her father and sisters, her uncle and aunt, Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana—sat down together for the evening meal to pleasant conversation.
The rector had written to confirm that the licence would be in order, and that no impediment to the marriage existed; however, he was engaged on Tuesday morning and could not attend them.
He had assured her father that the church would be prepared, and that he would be ready to perform the ceremony on Wednesday.
Still, he wished to meet with the couple on Monday morning to confirm the details of the ceremony.
Mrs Bennet had, of course, been apprised of the engagement earlier that afternoon, but the particulars had not then been settled. Elizabeth had been walking out with Fitzwilliam when her mother was told of the plans that had been made—this time in no uncertain terms—for a Wednesday morning wedding.
From her aunt’s account, and her own long acquaintance with her mother’s disposition, Elizabeth could scarcely determine which sentiment had prevailed.
Mrs Bennet had alternated between delight at the prospect of seeing one of her daughters so advantageously married and dismay at the haste with which the affair was to be concluded.
At one moment she declared herself the happiest of mothers; at the next, she lamented that such an occasion could not be properly celebrated, nor her daughter suitably displayed before the neighbourhood.
That the wedding must take place so soon—without the benefit of invitations, new gowns, or the full admiration of Meryton—had seemed, to her, a most grievous disappointment, even as she grudgingly congratulated Elizabeth on her good fortune.
By dinner, however, her agitation had overcome her. Elizabeth was not at all surprised that she had remained in her room, likely as a form of protest that her wishes would not be followed.
For her own part, Elizabeth was grateful for the reprieve; yet even in the calm, she was not wholly at ease.
Jane, who had remained unusually quiet throughout the afternoon—particularly after rejoining the family—spoke little at table, and though she answered when addressed, there was a reserve in her manner that Elizabeth could not but notice.
When the meal was concluded, Fitzwilliam signalled his need to depart.
His servants had gone ahead to his leased house, and while everything was likely prepared for his short stay, there were still matters of business requiring his attention.
The following day being Sunday, he was to return to Longbourn after joining the family at services, and remain until supper.
Elizabeth accompanied him to the door.
“It seems very strange to say that I shall miss you, and yet it is true. Still, I find myself most impatient for the morning to come, that we may be together again tomorrow,” she said quietly as they stood in the doorway.
Her lips curved into a faintly impish smile as she added, “We must take another walk tomorrow afternoon—and perhaps repeat the activities we so much enjoyed.”
He groaned softly at her words, and Elizabeth could not but take a certain satisfaction in the effect she produced.
She had not been mistaken—the depth of her feelings had increased with surprising rapidity over the past weeks, and at times their strength astonished her.
Since receiving his letter of explanation in April, her regard for him had begun to change; yet upon seeing him again, she had soon perceived that such regard had deepened into something far more tender, particularly as she observed the marked improvement in his manner.
These reflections occupied her mind as she bade him adieu, the pair exchanging a few chaste kisses before he at last took his leave.
Elizabeth lingered for a moment against the closed door; but when she opened her eyes, she found Jane standing nearby, as though she had been waiting for her.
For a brief instant, Elizabeth wondered how much her sister had observed; yet, conscious that she had committed no impropriety, she met her presence without embarrassment.
“Lizzy…” Jane began, then hesitated, as if uncertain how best to proceed. “Aunt Gardiner spoke to me earlier, and it seems that, in some respects, I have been mistaken in what I believed when you came here.”
Once again, she paused, her countenance revealing how unsure she was to continue.
“Yet it is difficult to comprehend how you came to be engaged to Mr Darcy, of all people, considering how you once thought of him. I have no wish to question you, but it is impossible to be entirely easy. You seem so very decided—and one would wish to be assured that it is your happiness which guides you.”
“Jane, I assure you, I am entirely happy in my choice,” Elizabeth replied, glancing about and wondering where the rest of the family might be. “Perhaps we ought to go upstairs, where we may speak more freely. If you wish, I can ask my aunt to join us.”
“No, do not trouble her,” Jane said quickly. “But we should go upstairs. Would you like me to come to your room so we might speak?”
Elizabeth nodded, and the two made their way up together, Jane leading.
As they passed the sitting room, Elizabeth noticed her aunt through the open door and offered her a reassuring smile.
Mrs Gardiner made to rise, but Elizabeth shook her head in a silent indication that such reinforcement was not needed.
Once they were settled in Elizabeth’s room, in the small seating area they had arranged for themselves, Elizabeth took her seat and waited for Jane to begin.
It took Jane several minutes to compose her thoughts sufficiently to speak.
“Can you tell me, Lizzy, how is it you came to change your mind so quickly regarding Mr Darcy? When you left Longbourn earlier this month, I had the sense that your feelings towards him had softened somewhat, but not enough for you to accept his proposal.”
She paused, then added, with a faint but perceptible strain in her voice, “It is not that I would doubt you—but it has all happened so very suddenly. I cannot help but feel there is something I do not yet understand.”
“When I left Kent, I could not have accepted Mr Darcy, even should he have offered again,” Elizabeth replied with certainty.
“But when I met him again at Pemberley, I had the opportunity to see how much he had changed, how much he had taken to heart what I said to him then. Had he not truly been in love with me, I do not believe he would have proposed again. We were in one another’s company on several occasions in Derbyshire, and, though I quite took him off his guard with my unexpected arrival at his estate, he was uniformly kind—not only to me, but to my relations as well. ”
“Yes, Lizzy,” Jane said, leaning slightly forward, a note of urgency in her voice, “but do you love him?”
She could not suppress the smile that rose at the thought of her intended. “I do, so very much.”
“But how can you be so certain?”
Elizabeth gave a soft, almost incredulous laugh, her hands twisting in her lap.
“Oh, Jane, I must confess that is very difficult to explain; but I know that I love him most sincerely. At Pemberley, I saw Mr Darcy as he truly is, and he is so unlike the man I believed him to be last autumn. He is far more compassionate and considerate of others, and though he may still be haughty at times, I believe we have both undergone considerable change in our understanding of one another.”
Pausing again, she studied her sister’s expression.
“Perhaps you have not yet had the opportunity to observe it, but consider how readily he involved himself in our present difficulties. Would the man we met last autumn have willingly travelled more than a hundred miles to assist us in addressing our sister’s situation, not knowing what we might discover upon our arrival?
” She shook her head slightly. “On several occasions during our journey, I asked whether he was certain he wished to marry me, and each time he reassured me—without hesitation—that he was entirely so.”
For a moment, Elizabeth’s gaze softened; she looked down, her fingers absently tracing the seam of her sleeve as memory overtook her.
“Then I wish you well,” Jane said, breaking into her thoughts.
Elizabeth looked up at once, her brows drawing together as she studied her sister more closely.
“Jane,” she said slowly, “why do you seem so much against the match? I understand your initial distress—particularly after Mama’s outburst regarding Mr Bingley—but you were reserved even after that was explained.
You have been almost hostile towards Mr Darcy; yet I cannot comprehend why you should seem—” she faltered, searching for the right word, “—almost displeased with me.”
She watched as Jane drew in a steadying breath, her hands clasping tightly together in her lap. The silence stretched, long enough that Elizabeth began to wonder whether she would answer at all. But when Jane at last spoke, the words came in a rush.
“Last autumn, Mr Bingley paid me every attention, yet he left without a word,” Jane said, her voice trembling despite her obvious effort at composure.
“And even when he was at Pemberley he did not come, no doubt due to the scandal caused by Lydia. For months, I have not had a line, not a single attempt…” She broke off, pressing her lips together before continuing, more quietly, “What is it about me that makes everyone so ready to leave me? And now—even you will go.”
Elizabeth stared at her, quite struck silent, the force of her sister’s distress rendering her, for several moments, unable to reply. When at last her thoughts began to order themselves, one question rose above the rest.
“How did you know Mr Bingley was at Pemberley?” she asked.