Chapter 2.20 #2
“Thank you for suggesting it, Colonel. I will certainly do so as soon as the opportunity arises. And I would also like to see Tidestone.”
“Both of them are not more than an hour’s ride from Pemberley on a good day with a good horse,” the colonel continued, and Elizabeth laughed nervously.
“Well, that is not a very helpful recommendation for me, sir. I see no possibility of my riding in any direction anytime soon.”
“Yes, I remember, you delight in walking. I fondly recall our strolls in the Rosings gardens.”
“You are too kind, sir,” Elizabeth answered, struggling to sound easier than she felt.
Recollections of Rosings strolls included the day she had confirmation of Darcy’s intervention in separating Jane and Bingley, awkward meetings with Darcy, and a letter offered and ripped apart —all painful and unpleasant images.
“Despite the weather tomorrow, Miss Bennet will stay at Pemberley long enough that you could show it to her on all sorts of days, from sunny to snowy,” Darcy addressed his sister.
“True,” the girl answered animatedly. “Oh, I just realised we have not decided which rooms we will give to Lizzy.”
“She should take the chambers next to yours,” Lady Hardwick said in earnest as if this were a significant decision.
Elizabeth could hardly keep her countenance, considering the reaction of her mother, Mrs. Phillips, and Lady Lucas had they known a young heiress and a countess were preoccupied with which rooms to offer her at one of the largest estates in the North.
“I think Miss Bennet should visit several available rooms in the family wing and choose for herself,” Darcy intervened.
“Yes, of course; that is what we shall do,” Georgiana agreed.
“There is no need, sir.” Elizabeth ventured to meet Darcy’s gaze. “Any room will be perfect, I am sure. I would like to be as close as possible to Georgiana if that is convenient for you.”
“Of course it is convenient, Lizzy; it would be perfect.”
“Then no other choice is necessary. I am sure all the rooms are perfectly comfortable and beautifully furnished.”
“I would hope they are,” Darcy responded, his eyes now holding Elizabeth’s. “But it might be the view that makes the difference. Each room has a balcony from which the sight of the estate can be admired.”
“You are very considerate, sir,” she replied, flustered.
“I have no doubt that all the views are wonderful at Pemberley, though. That would certainly make my choice even more difficult. It is a tragedy, indeed, to be forced to choose between several versions of perfection. I am afraid I will become quite spoiled,” she joked.
“You should take this opportunity to make your choice, Miss Bennet, while Darcy offers it to you. It will rarely happen again. As I mentioned several months ago during our lovely walks at Rosings, Darcy arranges things just as he pleases,” the colonel teased his cousin.
Darcy’s countenance remained serious, and Elizabeth became uneasy at the prospect of his believing she had gossiped with the colonel at his expense. It was not entirely untrue, but she wondered that the colonel mentioned it. It happened at another place, another time, with another Elizabeth…
“I do remember what you told me, Colonel,” she answered. “What I did not know then and I do know now, as I begin to know Mr. Darcy better, is that most of the time he makes arrangements not so much for his own liking but for the well-being of the people in his care.”
She observed that Darcy was surprised by her small praise; their eyes locked again for a moment, and his expression slowly softened.
“That is so true,” the countess responded.
“My two estates are better managed by my nephew than they were by my beloved late husband. And while I did appreciate surprises and the unexpected when I was younger, now I feel safe and at peace every time this young man makes plans that involve me. I can scarcely remember more than two occasions when he has been wrong about something.” Darcy smiled and kissed his aunt’s hand.
“You are too kind, dear aunt; I have been wrong more times than I like to admit. And I do appreciate surprises and the unexpected too, as long as they do not mean any possible harm for those in my care. When I am alone, I do tend to do foolish things, I assure you.”
A shiver ran along Elizabeth’s arms, and a lump in her throat kept her silent; she knew he was right. She was perfectly aware of several circumstances when he had done things that he might call foolish, and she also had the chance to experience the benefit of his actions and his plans.
“Well, the ladies seem determined to praise you while you can only blame yourself, and neither opinion is wrong,” the colonel added. “After knowing you for eight and twenty years, I might say that your virtues spring from your character and your faults from your manners.”
“Excellent description,” Lady Hardwick agreed. “That is Darcy indeed.”
“Most of the things I do and say are excellent,” the colonel replied, laughing. “As you see, I am not at all willing to point out any of my own deficiencies.”
Elizabeth said nothing, but her eyes returned to Darcy and held his again. He appeared discomposed and reluctant to receive praise, and his uneasiness touched her heart.
Yes, she could see the truth in the colonel’s description —which was why she had only seen his faults and had remained oblivious to his merits. It was much easier for her —and for everybody in Meryton —to observe his manners than to understand his character.
“So, speaking of manners less seriously and gravely, you still owe Georgiana and me a story, my dear nephew.” The countess smiled mischievously.
Darcy was puzzled. “What story?”