Chapter Eighteen #2
Elizabeth managed to grab Emily and pick her up before she was trampled by the horses, and with a smile Mr. Darcy dismounted and took his daughter into his arms.
The little girl immediately started sobbing and sobbing.
Mr. Darcy seemed a little confused as he held her, but he appeared happy enough.
“What happened?” Georgiana asked. “Did you really not fight George?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam spat on the ground. “Coward did not turn up. We waited forty-five minutes before Mr. Denny arrived alone and terribly embarrassed with the news that Wickham had disappeared from his bed in the night. Your favourite did leave behind a note about how he had learned of desperately important business in London that he must settle immediately.”
A wave of relief crashed over Elizabeth.
She had never thought she would be grateful for a man being a coward—but so it was.
“I am glad,” she said.
Mr. Darcy put down Emily and embraced Elizabeth. “I was not unhappy that he did not appear. I hope to never see him again in my life.”
“Oh, poor George!” Georgiana exclaimed. “I fear that is for the best.”
“It certainly is for the best,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said harshly.
“I know,” Georgiana replied. “I do know that.”
Elizabeth shivered as the wind blew through her skirts.
Taking her arm, Mr. Darcy led her in, shouting to Emily to follow them. The girl ran back inside shouting, “Cold! Cold!”
Mr. Bennet also smiled to see Mr. Darcy when they returned to the breakfast table. He said, “My daughter is quite pleased to find you in such good condition. Did you meet your man?”
“My man,” Mr. Darcy replied with a twisted expression, “did not meet me.”
That made Mr. Bennet laugh. “I am not surprised. I would not have met you either after your display yesterday.”
“It is for the best,” Mr. Darcy said. “I am happy, I think.”
Another platter of sausages and ham was brought out from the kitchen, and both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam set about the serious task of eating it.
In between mouthfuls, Mr. Darcy asked Georgiana and Elizabeth, “Have you given orders to pack? I hope for us to leave not long after noon. The roads round about are a little muddy, but it is too warm for ice, and we should make good time. I think we can reach Pemberley by the third evening and only sleep on the road two nights.”
Must we go so soon?
She would not ask her husband to delay and let her have more time with her family. It was clear that he was eager to be home, and she thought he was eager to show Pemberley off to her.
She must be a good wife.
“Leaving so soon?” her mother asked. “Surely you could remain a few days so that Elizabeth can visit all her friends and be introduced as Mrs. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy frowned. “I have no desire to stay longer than I must. I miss Pemberley, and the past day has been most unpleasant.”
That was that.
“I can pack fast enough for a speedy departure,” Elizabeth said.
“It will be perfect!” Georgiana exclaimed. “I can scarce wait to show you everything at Pemberley. You will love it.”
“I already do.” Elizabeth smiled at her friend. “And I have not even seen the estate.”
“I shall tell you everything on the ride home, so you know all that is useful. And we can play games—we always list how many different colours of carriages we see, and if there are more barouches than gigs, and there are so many guessing games.” Georgiana flushed and added, “You will not think I am silly if I confess to liking very much that game where you guess from the first letter what object is being thought of?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Why would I think you silly for that? I confess to enjoying it on occasion as well.”
As soon as the orders had been given for packing, Charlotte said, “Eliza, might I speak to you for a moment?”
They went out to the wilderness about Longbourn.
Her friend hesitated for half a minute and then imparted significant and most interesting information.
“Engaged to Mr. Collins!” Elizabeth exclaimed in some surprise. “Impossible. You cannot be so desperate.”
Charlotte smiled sadly. “I hope you can be happy for me.”
“Has Sir William lost all his money? Has—”
“Eliza, do you find it impossible to believe that Mr. Collins has gained my good opinion simply because he did not gain yours?”
“I can scarce believe that any woman of sense would like Mr. Collins. Is there anything I might do? The sum named in the settlement for my pin money is quite significant. I am sure I can help you in some way if I economise only a little.”
“Eliza, I—” Charlotte smiled warmly. “That is kind. So very kind. But you know that I have always meant to marry and set up my own household, and I shall not get a better opportunity. There is nothing frightening in Mr. Collins’s character.”
“But Mr. Collins! I never imagined—I meant to accept his offer if he made it. I cannot blame you. I cannot judge you. I would not have married him except under the immediate threat of poverty, but I would have married him. You must choose what is best for you—and if you make a mistake, I cannot judge. I once would have judged you harshly, but I was prejudiced then. The world seemed so much simpler.”
“You will be happy, very happy,” Charlotte said. “And that is all I can hope for.”
“I hardly know. I hardly do—I am so filled with confusion when I think of Mr. Darcy. And fear… I fear that I shall like him far more than he likes me. But are you certain in your plans? You are, I see. Then I wish you and Mr. Collins joy, and I hope that you will find every happiness, every satisfaction, that you expect and more. I only wish…I wish that you could find a man for yourself like…”
Like Mr. Darcy.
The thought deeply surprised Elizabeth.
“Like Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte’s smile quirked as she echoed Elizabeth’s thoughts. “You already think very much of him. And though your characters are quite different, there is something…something fundamental that fits. The more I see of Mr. Darcy, the more hopeful I am for both of you.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth replied. “But I wish you to find a man whom you can fully admire, a man with great virtues, great attractions, and great capabilities, whose conversation interests you, and whom—whom you love. That is what I wish for you.”
Charlotte smiled lopsidedly at Elizabeth. “We cannot all have your luck, Eliza.”
That made Elizabeth blush and laugh. “You know all my tortured musings on the subject—I hardly know whether I am lucky. Jane still fears that I have made a terrible mistake, though Mr. Darcy taking her advice about Mr. Wickham relieved her concerns considerably. It has been so difficult these past nights when we had our usual evening conferences. The judgment is in what she does not say. It is easy for her to say that she would happily live in poverty. She is not the one who would have the guilt of knowing that it was her fault.”
She swallowed, then added, “I think Jane does not realise how…I like Mr. Darcy. I think him a very good sort of man. I only fear—”