Chapter XXVII #2
She returned the smile. “I have found that gentlemen are much happier with plans they imagine they have conceived themselves.”
Darcy laughed outright. “I shall endeavour to remember that observation.”
***
The remainder of the afternoon passed almost as Elizabeth had predicted.
Before dinner, she quietly enlisted her aunt’s assistance, and Mrs. Gardiner entered into the scheme with evident satisfaction.
Mr. Gardiner, once made acquainted with it, required very little persuasion.
He declared that if Ramsgate offered his sister and her daughters the opportunity of escaping the endless curiosity of Meryton, it deserved every fair trial.
Darcy, likewise, found an opportunity to speak privately with Georgiana and Lydia.
Georgiana needed no encouragement; she embraced the prospect of the house gaining new inhabitants; despite the unfortunate happenstance there, she liked the house and the sea very much, and she readily undertook her allotted part.
Lydia proved even easier to convince. The mere thought of the sea, a spacious house, and remaining near her sisters was enough to secure her enthusiastic cooperation, though Darcy extracted from her a solemn promise that she would reveal the plan only when the proper moment arrived.
Thus, by the time the Gardiner household assembled for dinner, the conspiracy lacked only one participant.
Mr. Bennet first encountered the proposal in its most innocent form.
Mrs. Gardiner wondered aloud whether a few weeks by the sea might restore everyone’s spirits after so exhausting a period.
Her husband readily agreed, observing that his sister had scarcely enjoyed a moment’s peace since Lydia’s disappearance and that a change of air might benefit the whole family.
Mr. Bennet listened with polite indifference, making several dry observations upon the supposed medicinal qualities of sea breezes, but offered no decided objection.
Elizabeth wisely allowed the subject to rest.
It was not revived until the following day’s journey towards Longbourn.
Then, as they travelled together in Darcy’s comfortable carriage, she spoke of how pleasant it would be indeed if the entire family might spend some weeks together away from Hertfordshire, while Lydia eagerly supported every word.
Mr. Bennet objected, precisely as Elizabeth had foretold, that such schemes were all very well until one considered the expense and inconvenience of securing suitable accommodation.
It was only then that Darcy, with all the appearance of an afterthought, observed that he happened to possess a large house at Ramsgate which had stood empty for many months.
The proposal, which had seemed impossible scarcely a day before, was now at last upon the table.
Mrs. Bennet required rather less persuasion.
At the first mention of Ramsgate, she declared herself delighted with the notion of sea air.
Upon hearing that Lydia might remain with the family without immediately returning to Meryton society, she pronounced it the wisest scheme she had ever heard.
When it was added that the house already existed and no troublesome search for lodgings would be necessary, she became positively enthusiastic.
“A house already prepared!” she exclaimed. “My dear Mr. Bennet, we cannot possibly refuse. Think how fortunate we are! And the sea! Everybody says sea air restores the nerves. Mine have suffered dreadfully these last weeks.”
Mr. Bennet observed, with great composure, that the sea had never before been credited with restoring his wife’s spirits for longer than a fortnight.
“That is because we have never lived beside it,” Mrs. Bennet replied triumphantly. “Besides, poor Lydia cannot possibly remain in London forever, and I cannot endure another day without seeing her.”
Mr. Bennet murmured that he had not realised the separation had proved equally difficult for Lydia.
Mrs. Bennet ignored the remark entirely.
Before the evening was over, she had progressed from approving the journey to discussing servants, linen, preserves, and which gowns would best suit the sea air.
By the time they retired, Ramsgate had become, in her imagination at least, a place in which the Bennets had been intending to reside for years.
Darcy watched the proceedings with growing astonishment.
Elizabeth caught his eye across the room and smiled almost imperceptibly.
She had been right.
Mr. Bennet could oppose one determined advocate.
He stood very little chance against two daughters, his brother and sister Gardiner, his wife, and – without quite realising how it had happened – Mr. Darcy himself.
Mrs. Bennet could not remember precisely when her opinion of Mr. Darcy had altered. Indeed, she was not entirely certain it had altered so much as overturned itself altogether.
Only a few months earlier, she had declared him the proudest, disagreeablest gentleman she had ever encountered. A gentleman who would not dance with poor Lizzy, though he danced with scarcely anyone at all.
She frowned thoughtfully.
At the Netherfield ball… had he not danced only with Mrs. Hurst, as courtesy required, Miss Bingley… but then with Lizzy?
Mrs. Bennet blinked. How had she never thought that rather remarkable?
Then everything else had followed. He had found Lydia. He had taken her into his own home. He had protected her. He had cared for her when her own family had been powerless to do so. And he had asked for nothing in return.
Mrs. Bennet sighed. “I do not understand gentlemen at all,” she murmured.
Her thoughts turned, unwillingly, to Mr. Wickham.
He had carried Lydia away with every appearance of affection, only to abandon her. Her dear child.
Mr. Darcy, whom Wickham had described as proud, selfish, and hard-hearted, had quietly done everything that a truly honourable gentleman ought to have done.
Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Well,” she muttered to Mary, who sat next to her, “I never truly believed all those dreadful stories Mr. Wickham told.” She reflected for a moment. “Not all of them.” The qualification satisfied her conscience surprisingly well.
Then her attention drifted across the drawing room. Elizabeth had at last yielded to everyone’s entreaties and taken her place at the pianoforte. Presently, she began to sing.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes wandered towards Mr. Darcy. He had been speaking to Georgiana only a moment before. Now he seemed to have forgotten every person in the room.
He neither spoke nor moved. His whole attention rested upon Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet looked back at her daughter. Then again at Mr. Darcy. Then once more at Elizabeth.
A slow smile spread across her face. “Oh...”
Nobody heard her.
She leant back in her chair, folded her hands with great satisfaction, and continued watching. At length, she gave the tiniest nod to herself. “So that is it.”
For perhaps the first time in her life, Mrs. Bennet reached the correct conclusion immediately.
Mr. Darcy was quite desperately in love with her Lizzy.
And, she reflected with increasing delight, if there was one thing she had always understood, it was gentlemen in love.