Chapter Sixteen
Hertfordshire
Elizabeth’s mood continued to be low through the rest of April and into May.
Lydia and Mary both commented on her distraction, and even her mother noted her doldrums. Thus, when the letter arrived from Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner inviting her to journey to the lakes with them, Mrs. Bennet was instrumental in encouraging Mr. Bennet to allow his second eldest daughter to go.
Mr. Bennet conceded, noting his daughter’s diminished spirits, and the date for the Gardiner’s arrival was given. They would retrieve Elizabeth for their holiday on May twentieth.
With only ten days left until her departure, Lizzy busied herself with Mary and Lydia; the three sisters discussed all the two younger had accomplished in her absence, and Elizabeth in turn encouraged them to continue down the path they were following.
Kitty was standoffish at best, and she watched her sisters with barely concealed irritation, loudly lamenting on many occasions how very dull everyone was. Mrs. Bennet often hushed her, declaring her fourth daughter to be very trying on her poor nerves.
Lizzy awoke early on the morning of the eleventh of May. The sun had only just risen, and the grass glistened with dew in the early morning light. She donned a walking dress and pulled on her good, sturdy boots. Perhaps an early morning ramble would ease her troubled heart and mind.
She set off across the fields, her bonnet swinging in her hand rather than adorning her head, walking slower than she usually did, her mind turning over and over again the impetuous words that had surely driven Mr. Darcy from Kent at a breakneck pace.
“He must be congratulating himself on his escape,” she murmured to herself.
She climbed Oakham Mount with long strides. Was this what unrequited love felt like? For he must not have loved her as deeply if he had been able to leave her on so slight a trial. But her heart was irrevocably his now, and she supposed she must learn to live without his presence in her life.
“I shall never marry,” she said firmly. “I shall be governess to Jane’s ten children and teach them to play their instruments very ill.”
“I am dreadfully sorry to hear that,” came a deep voice from just beyond the hilltop. “I had hoped you would be convinced to teach my children instead.”
The sun was behind him, obscuring his face, but Elizabeth would know his voice anywhere. Mr. Darcy moved toward her, and she shaded her eyes as he drew nearer.
“You are here,” she breathed. “How? When?”
“There is so much to tell,” he said softly, “and I wish with all my heart that, when I have told you all, there might still be hope for me… for us.”
“There is always hope,” she replied.
“I shall withhold my own until after you have heard everything,” he said. Mr. Darcy held out his arm to her and Elizabeth took it with alacrity. He escorted her a little way off the path to a fallen log within the shade of the trees very near where his horse was tied.
“You left Rosings so suddenly,” Elizabeth said, when Mr. Darcy did not immediately speak.
“Yes,” he replied. “I am seeking a way to begin, for this sorry tale started long before you or I met. I told you of my sister’s near elopement with a fortune hunter last May?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“It seems,” Mr. Darcy said, “that Georgiana hid from me the true nature of her feelings surrounding the event. This extreme misunderstanding has led to all the chaos that has been wrought.”
Mr. Darcy began speaking, starting with the events at Ramsgate and ending with the meeting with her sister and her new husband at Pemberley.
Barely pausing for breath, he left nothing out.
Elizabeth listened intently, her anger and dismay rising and falling over and again through the telling until she was quite exhausted.
At least she now had an understanding of Mary and Lydia’s strange behavior in March.
“So, you see,” he said, finishing his tale.
“I am well and truly ruined. I have a sister and a name mired in scandal. You once worried that you were not worthy of me. Instead, it is quite the opposite; I am not worthy of you, and by marrying me you would undoubtedly embroil your family in the mess I find myself in.”
“Marry?” Elizabeth breathed. “You wish to marry me?”
“Yes,” he said softly. He lifted a hand and touched her cheek lightly, caressing it with his thumb. “I ardently admire and love you. You are my match in every way, and I wish beyond anything to know that I have not lost you.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth sighed. “To go from perfect misery to perfect happiness in an instant is something I have only read about in books until now. How does one bear such happiness?”
“Then am I to take that as acceptance?” Mr. Darcy teased lightly.
“Unequivocally,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I have been quite wretched these last two weeks at least, believing I had driven you away with my caustic tongue. My mother has told me often enough that a man does not wish for a sharp-tongued bride, but I never believed her until that moment when I found out you had gone.”
“A sharp-tongued bride is preferable to the agreeable syrup of many women,” Darcy replied. He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back, sending shivers up her spine.
“And what will become of Georgiana now?” Elizabeth ventured to ask.
“She is her husband’s problem,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I could not interfere even if I wished to. Her dowry will be released when she is twenty-five and not a moment before. In this, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are united.”
“Have you heard aught from her since she left Pemberley?” Lizzy probed.
“I have not, nor do I expect I shall receive any missive from her for some time,” he confided. “I was not even in Derbyshire for an entire day before I departed for Meryton. Once I knew it all, I could not stay away and allow you to think for one more moment that I do not care for you.”
“Then you are resolved?” Elizabeth asked. “You shall not know her any longer?”
“My Aunt and Uncle Matlock have insisted that they shall never speak to her again, and I suspect they will stand by that decision. When Aunt Catherine finds out, she will likely take the same position. As for myself, I find I can no longer trust my sister and the purity of her intentions. I shall not subject myself to any more of her machinations.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I can well understand your sentiments,” she said. “I find I have very little amiable feelings toward her myself, after learning the extent of her duplicity. That she should seek to so thoroughly disrupt the lives of so many people… it is despicable. I cannot approve of it.”
“Nor can I,” Darcy agreed. “Now, I believe I owe your father a visit. I must ask him why he never deigned to answer my letter. I penned him a note with a brief explanation for you just one day after leaving Rosings. I must assume you never received it.”
“My father is a terrible correspondent,” Elizabeth moaned.
“He opens bills and letters from family, and that is all. It is likely still sitting unopened in his desk. I shall tease him mercilessly for this. Or even better, perhaps I should inform my mother as to the true nature of my depressed spirits!”
“How would that be better?”
“Mrs. Bennet learning that all my misery might have been resolved had Mr. Bennet attended to his letters in a timely fashion? Her lamentations will surely be punishment enough for my father.”
Mr. Darcy laughed loudly and rose from the log, holding out his hand to assist her. “Then let us go to it,” he said merrily. “I find that I am impatient to secure your father’s blessing, now that I have your own consent. Mayhap if he seeks to deny it, we shall resort to your scheme.”
The two walked slowly back to Longbourn, Mr. Darcy leading his horse behind them.
They spoke of their hopes and dreams, and Mr. Darcy told her of Pemberley and the life there that awaited her.
Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, had been informed that should the master be successful in his quest, she should be ready to refresh the mistress’s chambers.
“The whole household is likely in an uproar,” Darcy told her. “Pemberley has been without a mistress for so long. They shall be very eager to serve you when you arrive.”
“I shall rely on your Mrs. Reynolds to impart her expertise,” Elizabeth said. “I have not been raised to manage such a vast estate.”
“I have no doubt you shall do well,” Darcy assured her.
They approached the manor house and Darcy handed off the reigns of his horse to a stableboy. Elizabeth saw a curtain twitch in one of the windows and sighed. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed.
“Shall you join us for breakfast?” she asked her betrothed, already knowing he would agree.
Darcy nodded and they entered the house, removing their outerwear as quickly as possible. Elizabeth led him down the hall to her father’s library, knocking sharply before pushing open the door.
Mr. Bennet looked up from his paper, eyebrows raising. “Mr. Darcy,” he said. “It is a bit early for visitors, is it not?”
“Mr. Darcy has a particular matter he wishes to discuss with you, Papa,” Elizabeth said, crossing the room quickly. She bent down, kissing her father’s cheek and whispered in his ear, “Be nice. I am quite in love with him, you know.”
Her father’s shocked gaze shot up to meet her own and Elizabeth smiled a saucy smile before turning and leaving the room, pulling the door tightly closed behind her.
“Lizzy!” her mother hissed loudly from the parlor door just down the hallway. “Come here this instant. Was that Mr. Darcy? What is he doing here? Where is his sister?”
“I am coming, Mama.” Lizzy sighed, smiling softly. “Let us go sit and I shall tell you everything.”
Mrs. Bennet was silent for nearly a full minute upon the conclusion of Lizzy’s recital, which was far longer than she had been upon Jane’s betrothal being announced.