Chapter Twenty
By the fourth day of Mr Bennet’s residence in Lyme, he had begun to suspect that the place had agreed with everyone in his family except himself.
This was not because he disliked it. Lyme offered tolerable walks, tolerable air, and a sufficient number of strangers whose manners might be examined without obligation.
Mrs Makepeace, too, was a kind of entertainment in herself, being a woman who gave opinions with such firmness that disagreement seemed not so much rude as impractical.
Under ordinary circumstances Mr Bennet might have found the arrangement perfectly satisfactory. The difficulty lay in the slightly unnerving circumstance of arriving as head of his family and discovering that his family had been proceeding very well without him.
Jane was happy. That much required no great penetration.
Mr Bingley had attached himself to her with all the warmth of a man who had never yet learned to be cautious in his affections, and even Jane, as gentle and composed as ever, could not receive so much admiration without occasionally betraying that she found it agreeable.
Elizabeth was more difficult. She laughed, talked and moved through company with her usual ease, yet there was a watchfulness in her which did not belong to her.
As for Mrs Bennet, she continued to present the greatest puzzle of all.
She had not resumed her old habits, but neither had she remained in the low spirits which had driven her daughters to the sea.
She was animated without being frantic and attentive without being anxious.
In short, she appeared perfectly content, without or in spite of him.
Mr Bennet did not know what to do with this.
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The weather had turned fine by Thursday, and Mr Bingley, who never allowed fine weather to remain unemployed, proposed a picnic upon one of the grassy rises above the town. The scheme was received with general favour, though Mr Darcy looked unenthusiastic.
Mrs Makepeace approved it only after assuming full authority over the baskets, and Mrs Bennet declared it an excellent plan provided Mr Bingley did not attempt to instruct any sheep.
There was the general laughter among the party although it was muted as though it were a polite response to a well-trodden joke.
Mr Bingley mumbled that "at least he didn’t go around accosting young ladies’ hands at card parties. "
The room went very quiet and Mr Bennet folded his newspaper. "The ‘Bucket’ theory is confirmed," he said to no one in particular and quit the parlour for the solitude of a tiny makeshift library at the back of the house.
The memory of the King’s Arms returned to him. A gentleman from Derbyshire who could afford better manners. Until that moment the story had been an amusing possibility, not a conviction. Now, he began to feel that the gossip had contained more than a grain of truth.
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The picnic took place shortly after noon.
Mrs Makepeace’s baskets were so numerous that Mr Bennet privately wondered whether the party was expected to remain upon the hill until Michaelmas.
Mr Bingley showed great gallantry in taking on far too many parcels and baskets until he looked like a human mule, while Jane looked on adoringly.
They walked up from the town in excellent spirits.
Mrs Bennet took Miss Darcy’s arm and pointed out every feature of the path as though she had been born in Lyme and forgotten to mention it.
Elizabeth walked ahead with Jane for part of the way, then fell back to tease Mr Bingley upon his heroic service in the matter of the baskets.
Mr Darcy kept near his sister, but his attention, Mr Bennet noticed, was almost always on Elizabeth.
The place chosen for luncheon was sheltered from the sharper wind by a line of low trees, and opened before them in a wide prospect of sea and sky.
The town lay below, pale and irregular, with its roofs descending towards the harbour and townsfolk moving about to create a constantly changing tableau.
For a time there was nothing in the scene that could alarm anyone.
It was a pleasant and entirely usual kind of day, but Mr Bennet was nervous.
He had not thought himself a nervous man.
Indeed he had spent much of his married life objecting, silently or aloud, to nervousness in others.
But he found that Lyme had been accumulating evidence against his comfort for several days.
Jane and Bingley were simple enough. If that young man was not in love, then Mr Bennet had misunderstood the entire history of human behaviour.
But Elizabeth and Mr Darcy were another matter.
They were too careful. They did not avoid one another in the ordinary way of people who dislike each other; they avoided one another with careful attention.
If Darcy spoke, Elizabeth heard him, though she might be looking elsewhere.
If Elizabeth laughed, Darcy’s eyes travelled towards her before he appeared to recall that they should not.
After luncheon, the company dispersed into activity.
Mrs Bennet remained near the baskets with Mrs Makepeace and Miss Darcy, engaged in a discussion of ribbon which appeared to involve more judgment than Mr Bennet had ever supposed ribbon could require.
Jane and Mr Bingley moved towards a stile from which he insisted there was an instructive view of the neighbouring fields.
Mr Bennet, who had already been instructed more than enough by Dorset, wandered a little apart and found a place near a low stone wall where the sea could be admired and nobody was likely to bother him.
It was there that he heard Elizabeth.
"You cannot expect me to be grateful for your repentance merely because it is sincere," Elizabeth was saying. Her voice was low, but the wind carried it surprisingly effectively, so it took very little attention to catch the whole conversation.
"I do not expect gratitude," Darcy replied. "I know too well that I have not deserved it."
"That is something, I suppose. Though I confess I liked you better when you were unbearable. You were much easier to argue with before you became so determined to be reasonable."
There was a pause, and Mr Bennet heard Darcy answer with something very near amusement.
"I shall endeavour to be more disagreeable, if it would restore your comfort."
"You need not exert yourself. I have never found you deficient in the talent."
This was Lizzy. There could be no mistaking her there. Yet the lightness of the exchange did not reassure him, for beneath it sat something he could not quite place.
Their steps had slowed beyond the turn of the path. He could see them now: Elizabeth's bonnet, the dark line of Darcy's coat, the space between them narrower than he liked, and he wondered whether his fatherly duty was to cough very loudly and make himself known.
"I believe," she was saying, "that you have survived my father's scrutiny rather better than most."
"I am not entirely certain of that. He looks at me a great deal and it does not seem he is over pleased with what he observes."
"You have had nearly a week."
"Exactly. And I don’t think his opinion is a warm one. "
Elizabeth laughed.
Mr Bennet's hand tightened slightly upon his cane. This did not sound like the conversation of a woman who had thoroughly dismissed a suitor.
"I am sorry I do not have the talent some possess of conversing easily with others they do not know well. And I have no idea where to begin with your father."
They walked a little further.
"If this is another apology," Elizabeth said, "I ought to warn you that I have become quite over-supplied."
"It is more explanation than apology."
"That is a relief."
"I only wished to ask one thing of you."
Elizabeth glanced at him. "Which is?"
"Do not decide against me yet."
For once she did not answer immediately. "Mr Darcy—"
"I know I have made a poor case for myself."
"A remarkably poor one at times. And I have been very definitive in my response."
"Yes."
The agreement seemed to catch her off guard.
"I know I have given you reasons to think ill of me. I am merely asking that you allow me the opportunity to give you better ones."
Elizabeth looked away towards the sea. "You make that sound very reasonable."
"I am attempting to be reasonable."
"That alone is unusual enough to deserve encouragement, I suppose."
He smiled down at her like she was personally responsible for hanging the moon.
Mr Bennet found himself increasingly dissatisfied with the entire exchange.
After a moment Elizabeth said, "And how long am I expected to suspend judgement while you improve your character?"
"As long as seems necessary. I thought perhaps if Georgiana extended an invitation to Pemberley… you could come to know me better"
"And once I saw your extensive grounds I could never say no? "
"That isn’t quite what I meant. Eliza—Miss Elizabeth, after much reflection I have realised that you are very different from other young ladies of my acquaintance."
She laughed again.
Mr Bennet looked back towards the picnic. Mrs Bennet was still with Miss Darcy and though she appeared to be discussing ribbon, her eyes had drifted more than once towards the path.
"And I truly believe you are the only woman who could make me happy."
Elizabeth shook her head, "You are very determined."
"I am."
"You always are, I suppose when it comes to getting your own way."
"Not always."
"No?"
"No. Only when something matters."
The answer seemed to quiet her and for a few moments neither spoke.
Then Elizabeth said, more softly, "You do realise that persistence is not always attractive."
"I am aware."
"And yet you persist despite me being exactly the wrong type of woman for the role you have in mind."
"Yes."
At that, she smiled despite herself. And Darcy reached out and captured her hand in his.
She did not immediately withdraw and Mr Bennet coughed aggressively.
Darcy had the good sense to release her hand immediately.
Elizabeth stepped back at once. "Papa."