JA quotes and intro

"I should infinitely prefer a book." -- Chapter 39, Pride and Prejudice
"...I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit..." -- Chapter 8, Pride and Prejudice
"I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be." -- Chapter 20, Pride and Prejudice

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Sunday, June 27, 2010

A Little More Practice (3 of 7)

Part 7


Elizabeth listened patiently to Maria ramble on about Mr. Wickham and Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Catherine and Rosings and… “Miss de Bourgh has such an inheritance to look forward to. I do so envy her! I shall never forget Rosings. We dined there nine times! How much I shall have to tell Father and Mother and all our friends!” Her soft voice and the clattering of the horses’ hooves and carriage wheels together formed a strangely pleasing rhythm. “I hope Charlotte will invite me to Hunsford again in the autumn.”

“I am sure she will. She will be glad of your assistance, I imagine.”

“Assistance?”

“Company,” Elizabeth corrected, recalling that Maria did not yet know she was to become an aunt. “I know she was very pleased to have you with her these six weeks. She told me so more than once.”

Maria blushed and smiled and appeared at a loss for words on hearing of her sister’s compliment.

Elizabeth turned to the window. ‘I shall never forget Rosings, either,’ was her unspoken thought. However, the image in her head was not of grand dinners or of opulent furnishings but of bright eyes, haunting in their intensity, two sparks of life—even of beauty—in that colourless patch that was the room of Miss de Bourgh’s companion.

She recalled the sound of his voice as he touched her. She imagined him saying the words he had penned in his last letter, saying those words to her. “Dearest,” she whispered, and Maria looked up, but the latter appeared to dismiss it from her mind immediately when Elizabeth said nothing further.

~☆☽♭♮♯


“He has called here, in Gracechurch Street!” Jane whispered in her sister’s ear as the two women embraced in greeting. “Only yesterday, or I would have written you word. Oh, Lizzy!” Elizabeth tightened her hold on her sister at this joyous news.

“Girls, come! I know you are pleased to see one another again, but do come and sit down. Let us not make Miss Lucas stand there in the entryway.” Mrs. Gardiner ushered her nieces and Maria into the drawing room of her London home. “Now, tell me: how was the journey from Hunsford? And how did you leave your friend Mrs. Collins?”

Elizabeth answered her aunt’s questions cheerfully and listened with great pleasure as Mrs. Gardiner next recounted Mr. Bingley’s visit, which had occurred the previous day. Jane’s constant smiles were a balm to her; Elizabeth felt a little less regret for every saucy speech she had directed at Mr. Darcy in Kent if her words had resulted in her sister’s being so happily situated.

Miss Lucas was shown to her room by the housekeeper, and Mrs. Gardiner took a moment to speak with her nieces alone. “It pains me to speak ill of any friend of yours, my dears, but I must say that Mr. Bingley’s amiable manners far surpassed those of his sister. Was there such a marked difference between them in Hertfordshire?”

“Yes.” “Not always.” Elizabeth and Jane did not agree on Caroline Bingley, even now.

“Miss Bingley was never as open or as cheerful as her brother,” Jane continued, “but she was very kind to me while she resided at Netherfield.”

“Lizzy, I can see from the expression on your face that you do not share Jane’s opinion.” Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “However, we shall not argue that point.” She patted Jane’s arm. “It is clear the brother considers you a valued acquaintance, and the sister, both sisters, will have to come to terms with that.”

Elizabeth smiled her encouragement to Jane. “Shall we see Mr. Bingley again before we leave for Hertfordshire, do you think?”

“I shall be quite offended if we do not!” Mrs. Gardiner answered in her haughtiest tone. “He accepted my invitation to tea this afternoon. Mr. Bingley knows better than to slight a Gardiner.” The three ladies broke into barely dignified laughter.

~☆☽♭♮♯


Elizabeth observed that Mr. Bingley did indeed know better than to slight a Gardiner, or a Bennet, for that matter; he came to Gracechurch Street that day and every day thereafter while their party remained in town. His company was most welcome, primarily for Jane’s sake, but Elizabeth had always enjoyed his pleasant conversation in Hertfordshire and she was glad of the few moments he could spare from the demands of his courtship to speak with her.

There was one thing she happily would have done without, however: Mr. Bingley had the disturbing habit of mentioning the name of his friend several times in the course of their conversations. Frequently when he did this, he looked pointedly at her just as she was attempting to conceal her reaction. She wondered just how much Mr. Darcy had confided in Mr. Bingley of what had occurred in Kent.

Elizabeth’s last evening in London arrived all too soon. The trunks were packed, the sights seen, calls made and trinkets purchased; if only Jane were to return home engaged to Mr. Bingley, their mother would be prodigiously pleased. As the evening progressed, circumstances appeared to favour Mrs. Bennet’s wishes for her eldest child more and more.

Elizabeth smiled to herself. She had just overheard their guest ask her sister for a private interview on the morrow. Jane had consented, of course, and had risen to consult with her aunt. They were to return to Longbourn the next morning; she suspected they now would be leaving town no earlier than noon.

“I understand that I have you to thank for my good fortune, my dear Miss Eliza.” Mr. Bingley appeared at her side, as he sometimes did when Jane was not immediately available. “Darcy paid me a visit on the day he returned from Kent and imparted to me some very useful information. I am grateful that he took it upon himself to canvass your opinion.”

There it was again: Darcy. Elizabeth ignored her inconvenient flutterings as well as she could and fixed on the part of the gentleman’s speech that allowed her to answer with composure. “Although I had a good deal of sympathy for your position, Mr. Bingley, I believe I thought only of Jane. My sister is very dear to me.”

“How can she not be? She is the dearest creature in the world.”

“I see we are of like mind. I am glad of it.”

“Truly, Miss Eliza?” He smiled and leaned in to whisper, “Tomorrow, Jane and I…” He nodded towards the place where he and Jane had been sitting. “I imagine you heard enough to know what I am trying to tell you. I am a very happy man, you may be sure.” He leaned closer. “I hope you do not think me impertinent when I say that anyone would be delighted to have you as a sister.” His smile broadened and his eyes had a look of mischief about them. “And I daresay that once Miss Darcy makes your acquaintance, she will be of the same opinion.”

Luckily, Jane chose that moment to return to her former place, drawing Mr. Bingley’s attention away and allowing Elizabeth to blush to the roots of her hair in relative privacy.

~☆☽♭♮♯


“So it appears I shall be travelling to Longbourn with an engaged woman.”

“Oh, Lizzy! If I could just see you as happy!”

“I have had my chances and squandered them all, as well you know. Let us see if I can recount them now. There was that scrawny youth Mama insisted I dance with at my very first assembly.” The sisters grimaced at the remembrance. “Then I was favoured with the fleeting attentions of a few of the local young men, none of whom considered themselves wealthy enough to choose a bride without some dowry or property to her name. And let us not forget Mr. Kildare with his wandering eyes.”

“Papa never liked him.”

“Neither did I, but Mama would not allow me to refuse his attentions entirely.”

“I could not think well of him when I learned that he was attempting to court two ladies at once.”

“There were actually three of us unfortunate souls, if not more, or so Charlotte told me at the time, though she would not say how she came by that knowledge. And speaking of Charlotte, my crowning achievement was the refusal of the most eligible offer I am ever likely to receive. For, as the man himself said, upon my initial – or was it the second refusal, or the third? I cannot recall; I had never before been obliged to say ‘no’ so often in a single conversation. ‘It is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you.’ For some reason, of all the words that our cousin said to me that morning, those are the ones that stayed in my head.”

“You poor dear! Was he so very rude? Had I been in your place, I should not have known where to look.”

“I am sure I looked only at the nearest door.”

Jane laughed. “I had quite forgotten how…determined Mr. Collins had been in his pursuit of you.”

“You have had much more pleasant things with which to fill your head, Jane! Besides, you have not just spent over a month in his company. Had I not done so, he hardly would bear mentioning. Our mother, however, has not yet forgotten him, I would wager, nor has she forgiven me. Tomorrow I shall hear again of her inability to provide for a wilful spinster once our father is gone.”

“Mother will have her opinion. You could not have been happy with our cousin, so there is an end of it.” To one who did not know Jane well she might have appeared impassive, but Elizabeth could see that her sister was not pleased. “Twenty is still young. You are hardly a spinster.”

“You would not be the best judge of that. You are two and twenty and not married yet, no matter how fervently Mr. Bingley is striving to alter that circumstance.”

“Lizzy!” Jane swallowed her laughter at her sister’s impertinence.

“Do not worry for me. I am quite resigned to my fate. As I have said, I threw away my best chance at happiness. Why, at this very moment, had I chosen it, I would be residing but a short walk away from the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh and the palatial splendour that is Rosings. To dine in the company of the revered—and largely silent—Miss Anne de Bourgh twice weekly! Oh, sister! Can there be any greater felicity?”

“You are incorrigible!”

“Yes.”

They giggled like schoolgirls until Jane’s face took on a serious expression. “Lizzy, there is something I feel I must discuss with you. Bingley has told me a little about Mr. Darcy and—”

“Oh, no! Not you, too! Please, Jane.”

“But he—”

“No more about Mr. Darcy tonight!” Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her, surprised at her strength of feeling on the matter, but the statement had the desired effect so she did not trouble herself.

Jane sighed. “Very well, Lizzy. I suppose it is nothing that cannot keep.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

Their earlier laughter had spilled out into the hall, and soon they heard footsteps and the rattling of the latch.

“Matthew! You must go back to bed.” Jane rose to escort him.

“No, Jane. Allow me. You have had months with the darlings. Let me spoil Matty a little before I go home.”

In the children’s room, not only Matthew, but his younger brother as well, stared at her with wide-awake eyes. The smallest one grasped the edge of the bed linen and sucked on his fingers while his brother begged Elizabeth for everything from treats from the kitchen to a walk outdoors, without success. Finally he yawned and crawled under the covers. “Will you sing for us?” He settled his head on the pillow.

She nodded as she tucked in her young cousins and began with the first tune that came to mind. After singing but half of the verse, she fell silent. A little voice brought her back from her thoughts.

“Cousin Lizzy, why are you crying?”

“Am I?” She had not observed it. She touched her cheeks; they were dry.

“Your eyes are shiny. Are you unhappy? Is that why you stopped?”

“No, no. I am sorry. I am afraid I cannot do it justice tonight, is all. Sleep well.”

~☆☽♭♮♯


Part 8


The bustle of a London morning always roused Elizabeth earlier than she was accustomed to awakening at Longbourn. Just now, she appeared to be rising with the sun. Her restless night had left her tired. Still, she was pleased to be going home after having been away so long. She would see her uncle and aunt again soon enough. The planned trip to the Lakes promised a multitude of pleasures.

Across the room, Jane slept on, her peaceful expression barely discernible in the first light of day.

Not wishing to disturb anyone so early, Elizabeth dressed herself in a comfortable gown fit for travelling. Her skin still smelled of lavender from her bath. She was glad the scent had outlasted the night; it calmed her now. She had wearied her mind and body dwelling on a certain gentleman. “I had best be prepared for whatever Mr. Bingley says to me today about his friend. I must and will meet it with equanimity.”

Even in her agitated state, she had much for which to be grateful. She had prevented Jane from pursuing the subject of Mr. Darcy the night before. She had had the pleasure of seeing her sister courted by a worthy gentleman away from the curious eyes of their Meryton neighbours.

And though he had no prospects and rightly should not have been included in a list of any import, she nevertheless was thankful to have avoided the mention of Mr. Wickham’s name among her former suitors. Under other circumstances she might have divulged to Jane the whole of her new understanding of Wickham’s history, including those parts of Mr. Darcy’s account that the latter wished to keep private. However, her sister had been so happy, so overflowing with joy from the moment they met, that she shrank from the thought of spoiling that joy with such unpleasantness as she could have related. Once again she felt relief at the return of ease and intimacy to her conversations with Charlotte. At least she had already unburdened herself to one friend; she could thus spare Jane without causing herself undue suffering.

As she began to brush her hair, her sister awoke.

“Good morning.”

Jane acknowledged her with a smile. “I shall do that for you.” She got out of bed and took the brush from Elizabeth’s hand. The two ladies had much practice in the art, Jane more so, with four younger sisters upon whom to hone her skill. “I would have you look your best.”

“It will be a momentous day for you, sister.”

“It will be a delightful day for us both, I hope.”

Several minutes later, Elizabeth, well pleased with the results, thanked Jane and left her to her own preparations. She then embarked on her habitual tour of the house, something she undertook whenever she was to leave Gracechurch Street, perhaps as an attempt to fix in her memory all the pleasant times spent there. She walked quietly along the corridors so as not to awaken her cousins, descended the stairs, and ended her circuit in the breakfast room where she awaited the others. Her aunt soon joined her.

“Lizzy! Good morning. I had not thought to see you so early. You look different somehow.”

“Is it my hair, perhaps?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Jane’s handiwork.”

“Truly? It is very becoming.”

“I thank you on her behalf as well as mine. She really is quite proficient. I must say I was surprised that she should dedicate so much time to the task today, of all days. But that is the way with her, always thinking of others.”

Mrs. Gardiner only smiled.

Mr. Gardiner entered the room not long after his wife. “I have much work to do,” he said while filling his plate. “However, I shall return before noon to see the girls off. You must give me a full report on all that I miss.” Husband and wife shared a significant look which Elizabeth assumed had much to do with Jane’s imminent engagement, until they jointly trained their gazes on her.

She glanced from one to the other as the two shared yet another knowing look.

“It will be a day to remember.” Her uncle ignored her questioning eyes.

As did her aunt. “Of that I have no doubt.”

~☆☽♭♮♯


“Shall we walk to the bookseller’s?”

Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet led the way, followed by Miss Lucas, Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. The latter would have given anything to be anywhere else as she turned her eyes away from the insistent stare of her tall companion.

She acknowledged that it would have been the height of rudeness to decline the company of Miss Darcy when her brother had gone to such trouble to introduce her—bringing Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley to this part of London surely was an unusual event. Furthermore, she was needed both to serve as chaperone and to ensure that her sister and Mr. Bingley had their precious moment alone. Finally, she conceded that even a man as clever as Mr. Darcy could not engage in too much mischief in the company of all these people and likely would not act unbecomingly in the presence of a much younger sister.

All these reasons, along with her aunt’s whispered encouragement, conspired to keep her placing one foot in front of the other.

Miss Darcy and Miss Lucas chatted amiably together. Elizabeth smiled as she watched their progress. A similarity in age and disposition had mutually recommended the two girls in the Gardiners’ drawing room. Miss Lucas tended to shyness when not in the exclusive company of her intimate friends, and her gentle inquisitiveness, so far from intimidating, seemed to put the equally reticent Miss Darcy at ease. Elizabeth laughed to herself at the thought that Maria, ever conscious of rank and superiority since her father’s ascension to the knighthood, might well have felt intimidated herself by Miss Darcy’s presence on account of the latter’s fine clothes, elegant manners, or even her connection to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

The rhythmic step of the gentleman at her side echoed in her ears. She glanced up. He was still looking at her, not that she had doubted it.

“What is it, Mr. Darcy?” she inquired when she could tolerate his silent observation no longer.

“What is what, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Why do you stare so? Is anything out of place?” She lifted a hand to the nape of her neck as if to set aright any stray locks and amused herself with watching his expression change from one of embarrassment to one of determination.

“Quite the contrary. Your hair is lovely. I do not think I have seen it in that style before.”

“I am collecting a great many compliments for my sister this morning.” At his confused expression, she said “It is Jane who is responsible for any improvement in my appearance today. She wanted me to look my best. I had no idea at the time that we would be in company with more than just Mr. Bingley.” She would not have him think that she had taken special care on his account.

Mr. Darcy touched her arm to slow their progress until the others were several paces ahead. “Your sister is very kind to me.”

Elizabeth did not wish to answer that. Instead, she commented on his sister. “It has been a pleasure to make the acquaintance of Miss Darcy.” The young girl had proven such a sweet creature that she detested Wickham all the more for his deviousness.

“I am certain she would say the same of you all. She seems comfortable conversing with Miss Lucas, and Mrs. Gardiner has made her, has made us both, very welcome. Shall we see your uncle today, do you think?”

His interest in her relations surprised her in light of his previously expressed opinion on the level of sense and breeding of some of the Bennets and their connections. Clearly, he must have been impressed by her aunt during this first brief meeting if he now wished to meet her uncle as well. That Mr. Darcy desired to be introduced to any member of her family could only make Elizabeth proud. That much, if not all, of the credit for this unlikely circumstance must rightly be given to the particular family members involved, for whom she knew there was no need to blush, kept her pride under good regulation.

They managed to keep up a steady conversation until they reached the shop. Miss Darcy stepped inside with Miss Lucas directly behind her. Jane and Mr. Bingley moved quickly from one display to the next; soon Mr. Bingley picked up a book seemingly at random—a novel—and walked up to the proprietor to make his purchase.

Elizabeth recalled her purpose. “Mr. Darcy, your friend’s business is rapidly concluded, I see. Do you mind if I stay a little longer? I feel I have hardly had time to view the selection here.”

Mr. Darcy readily agreed. Miss Darcy and Miss Lucas were in no hurry; oblivious to the others, they were occupied with looking over a large volume.

Elizabeth went over to her sister and spoke to her discreetly. “Jane, if Mr. Bingley is ready to leave, do not linger on our account. Mr. Darcy has agreed to stay behind and escort us back to my aunt’s. We shall not be long.”

Jane nodded. The unsteadiness of her smile betrayed her nervousness as she departed with her suitor.

Elizabeth silently wished her sister luck and made her way back to where Mr. Darcy stood. Only upon approaching him and noting his sly grin did she wonder why she had not simply remained where she was; after all, there were just as many books in one part of the shop as in the other.

“You seem…well satisfied.” It was nearly impossible to restrain her tongue while he looked so utterly pleased with himself. Her eyes darted about; it appeared no one else had taken notice of her speech.

He leaned over her shoulder as if she were obstructing his view. An observer might have believed him far more interested in perusing the titles before his eyes than in pursuing any conversation. His voice was low and steady as he said, “I hope I shall always be well satisfied to see you return to me.”

So he had realised as well that she had, rather unnecessarily, come to his side; whether by choice or by instinct, she knew not, nor whether it even mattered now she was here.

“What am I to say to that?” she mumbled before she could stop herself.

“Whatever you like. I enjoy hearing you talk.”

“I thought it was only my singing that pleased you,” she replied, thinking of his provocative note. She had no excuse for her flirting beyond her own unease with the current circumstances, and possibly the temptation of saying things that ought not to be overheard, and thus ought not to be uttered in a public place.

He hesitated before answering, “I have pleasure in many things.”

That sounded so familiar, very like something she would say, or perhaps had said. She did not have the chance to search her memory, however. Mr. Darcy brushed against her as he reached for a book and the brief contact jolted her into action. “We must return to my aunt’s. Aunt Gardiner will not be pleased if I leave Jane alone for long.” She walked over to the other ladies. “Maria, Miss Darcy, have you found anything of interest?”

Miss Darcy admitted that although she loved to shop, she rarely made any purchases while out with her brother, for he was forever giving her gifts. As if to prove the veracity of her words, Mr. Darcy approached and asked if he might buy whatever had taken Georgiana’s fancy. “That one there, the one you and Miss Lucas were reading together. Shall I get it for you?”

“No, Fitzwilliam, but thank you all the same.” Miss Darcy smiled at her brother and then at Elizabeth.

“Shall we return, then?” Elizabeth was anxious to see how her sister fared.

All but Mr. Darcy turned to go; he decided to follow Mr. Bingley’s example and acquire something for himself. The transaction was soon completed and the foursome walked back to Gracechurch Street, this time with Miss Lucas and Miss Darcy following behind Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

As Elizabeth thought they must have some conversation, she began it. She had an obligation to discharge, and now was as good a time as any. “Miss Darcy tells me you often buy her gifts.”

“I enjoy doing what I can to make her happy.”

“I have not yet thanked you for mine—my gift.”

He seemed to be in a sudden hurry, and then she realised he once again was putting some distance between them and their companions. Perhaps he did not wish Miss Darcy to know the extent of his generosity towards ladies who were not family. As she continued, she was grateful for it. “And I thank you as well for the other…for what came before,” she pressed on in spite of the awkwardness she felt, “for telling me the truth of Mr.—” she looked behind her, “of him.” She refused to mention Mr. Wickham’s name in Miss Darcy’s company.

Mr. Darcy gave her a solemn nod. “Say no more of it.” His look was not one of reproach and she was glad, for she knew not how she would have borne it had it been so.

“Did you like the music?” He seemed as eager as she to move on to a more pleasant topic. “Although I was almost certain you would return to the room and see it, I am glad to have confirmation that the package is not still at Rosings.” They leaned towards each other now, not wishing to be heard by the young ladies following them.

“You took quite a risk. It would not have done for your aunt to have discovered it.”

“Not at all.” He grinned at her. “Did you…examine everything carefully? I was sure you had, back there at the shop.”

Elizabeth blushed. Was it so obvious that she was warming to him? She cursed her wayward feet and her flirting and every impulse that brought her that much closer to being in danger. He was waiting for an answer. “Even had I not ‘examined everything carefully,’ as you say, Mr. Bingley’s pointed comments would have enlightened me as to your…views on the subject.” He was looking at her and she could see that he fully understood her meaning.

He glanced back at his sister and Maria and then slipped his hand into a pocket, probing for something. “What exactly did Bingley say of me?”

She averted her eyes. “You would find the details tedious, I am sure.” She was surprised to hear his quiet laugh. “I am glad you are amused. I certainly did not feel like laughing when he persisted in bringing your name into almost every conversation.”

“It appears not to have done too much harm. You are walking with me now, and quite companionably, I must say.” He held his new book in both hands and looked from it to her and back again.

In their silence they could distinguish the quiet, animated voices of the girls behind them. Elizabeth saw a familiar figure ahead. “There is Jane.” Her sister stepped fully into view, her arm resting on her companion’s and her smile as bright as Elizabeth had ever seen it. “And so it is done.” She caught Mr. Darcy’s eye and detected in his expression not the slightest hint of disapprobation. If anything, he appeared wistful. As they approached the couple, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.

Jane’s happiness was evident, as was Mr. Bingley’s, but as Mr. Bennet’s consent had yet to be obtained, and as they all were standing in a public thoroughfare, congratulations and inquiries would have to wait. Elizabeth smiled and turned to Mr. Darcy just as he offered her his arm for the remainder of their walk. She complied without quite knowing what she did but soon felt the full consequences of her distraction.

With each step she grew more conscious of her companion: his height; the firmness of his arm; the superior quality of his coat; his handsome profile—almost as handsome as Wickham’s; his energy; how his eyes brightened when he looked upon her, how that brightness warmed her. On previous occasions in his company, the primary sensation he had stirred in her had been anger, and sometimes shock. Now, she realised her anger had fled long ago and the only shock she experienced was due to her growing admiration, for admiration she must call it, of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

~☆☽♭♮♯


Mr. Gardiner returned to the house in good time. He and Mr. Darcy did meet, and Elizabeth was not surprised that each man appeared pleased with what he saw in the other. They did not have long to become acquainted, however. The trip to Meryton loomed, and as those at home must not be kept waiting or made anxious by any unnecessary delay, the guests began to stir themselves. Mr. Darcy cited business and Miss Darcy lessons to claim their afternoon hours; even Mr. Bingley grew restless and looked as though he wished to invite himself along on the carriage ride to Meryton whenever Jane talked of going.

In the midst of leave-taking, Mr. Darcy, somewhat agitated, stood before Elizabeth in such a way as to obstruct her view of the others. Instead of the usual farewell, he said to her, “You have not yet inquired about my purchase,” and pressed his new book into her hands. Their attention was immediately diverted by her aunt, and soon everyone crowded around the drawing room door.

Elizabeth had no time to object and hardly any time to consider what Mr. Darcy had done before the guests departed. She followed them out, intending to return the book to its owner, and as she held the volume she felt—and then saw—a piece of paper protruding from the pages. Realisation dawned and she called out, “Would you say this text warrants careful examination, Mr. Darcy?”

He was handing his sister into the carriage but had looked up immediately at the sound of her voice. “Yes. I would.” She could see she had his full attention.

“Then I shall endeavour to follow your recommendation as soon as may be.”

“Thank you.” His astonishment melted into a brilliant smile that held her in its thrall until he disappeared into the carriage. Elizabeth entered the house in a haze of confused though not unpleasant feelings.

“Lizzy, I thought that was Mr. Darcy’s book.”

“Oh?” She had not noticed her uncle standing there and wondered what he had heard of their exchange.

“Is that all the reply I am to expect?” Uncle Gardiner’s look was too penetrating by half. “I see. He was kind enough to carry it for you, then.”

“I shall pack it away with my things.” Half afraid her uncle might follow on her heels, she scurried up the stairs to her room and locked herself in. She freed the letter from its hiding place and sat upon the bed to read it.

The courage that brings my pen to paper fails me when I envision your response. Thus I shall promise myself to give you this letter only if I believe you would welcome it. There—now I have the freedom to write what I will, knowing that if I do not meet with your approval I shall destroy this page and any that follow. If I am fortunate enough to receive your smiles and not your censure, you may think what you like of all you read here, though I hope you will not think ill of me for writing to you again. I am coming to enjoy the practice and would be loath to give it up.

Before I continue, dearest, forgive me for not addressing you properly. I mean no disrespect and only seek to safeguard your reputation and power to determine your own course. Until such time as I know you would not be averse to having your name closely associated with mine I shall not use that name, but do not imagine it is ever far from my thoughts.

I hope you will like Miss—. She looks forward to meeting you. She does not have many friends and is not yet out. If you can coax more than a few words from her—she is quite shy—you are certain to get on well together. I have a firm belief in your success, for who can resist you?

There is so much I want to ask you, and there is so much I want to say. Are you often away from home? Would it trouble you greatly to be settled far from —shire? I hope you enjoyed your stay in the country. Your friend has a comfortable house, but I anticipate that during future visits you will have the benefit of more spacious apartments. Such a visit is not likely to take place very soon, I fear. There are those in my family who will not look kindly upon a nearer connection between us. I am confident that most will have too much sense to continue in their disapprobation for very long, but one in particular, I am certain you know which one, will be bitterly disappointed in my choice and will not hesitate to make that disappointment known.

Perhaps I have said too much already, but I shall not start afresh. These words are no more than what I might say to you in person, given time and opportunity. You know enough of me to believe me capable of every presumption that might offend and insult, and yet I pray you are not offended by what I write.

Do you think you could come to care for me a little, enough to answer me just as I would wish? I am certain my mouth shall form the words, most likely when they are least expected. I look at you and my thoughts tumble about in my head; all sense deserts me and only sensibility remains. And yet, I believe my love for you is as rational and reasonable as any man’s love for a woman can be. Sitting here in my study, with all the comforts familiarity can give, I cannot guess what inane or inappropriate thing I shall have said to you by the time you read this letter, or whether I shall have been able to put two words of sense together without them tripping over my tongue. I hope the latter but despair it will only be the former, and again I beg your forbearance.

It is late, and we shall meet again in the morning, for good or ill. Yet I am sanguine; should you reject my overtures tomorrow, I shall not despair. Your presence can only ever do me good. I conclude with best wishes for your happiness from

Your Devoted Servant and Ardent Admirer


“Oh!” The letter fluttered to the floor.

“Lizzy?” There was a knock and then another call, “Lizzy! Are you well?”

“I am well, Jane.”

“I heard you cry out.”

“I am well. I shall be out directly.” Elizabeth picked up the letter and hurriedly placed it with the others. “I have got quite a collection now, but this last—a man of his consequence, seriously contemplating an alliance with me!” She pressed her hands to her face. “Fitzwilliam, however can you love me? I have given you nothing but trouble, yet you write of me as if I were an angel.” She fetched the book and placed it inside her trunk. “My presence can only ever do you good! You would turn my head with that sentiment alone.”

“Lizzy, are you speaking to me?”

“No, Jane.” She was mortified at the thought of being overheard by her sister and thankful for the sturdy door between them. She stood still a moment to regain her composure, recalled Mr. Darcy’s parting smile and grew flustered once more.

Even Jane’s soothing presence and the kind solicitude of her aunt and uncle could not calm her completely. In the carriage, neither of her companions succeeded in drawing her into conversation of any substance. Her mind would not latch onto anything that was said. She could think only of her letter.

~☆☽♭♮♯


Part 9


The travellers arrived later than their appointed time at the inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage was to meet them. Kitty and Lydia, who awaited them, hardly noticed the delay. They had whiled away the past hour making unnecessary purchases at the local shops and busily arranging a light meal for them all, the cost of which exceeded the contents of their joint purses. Luckily, Jane and Elizabeth had money enough, and as they sat down to eat, Lydia imparted the latest gossip. Of great interest was the news that the regiment would remove to Brighton in a fortnight and that there would be no Mrs. Wickham accompanying them.

“There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King,” Lydia told her sisters and Maria. “There’s for you! She is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool; gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”

“And Mary King is safe!” Elizabeth countered. She did not have opportunity to elaborate before Maria took up the charge.

“Oh, Lydia, Kitty! Oh, and you too, Jane, for I did not breathe a word of it to you in London. If you could have heard the things Lady Catherine said about Mr. Wickham you would have been quite shocked!”

Maria told them all she remembered, calling on Elizabeth to confirm nearly every detail. Lydia exclaimed; all were appalled. Elizabeth was glad Jane had had the foresight to send the waiter away.

One of the girls, however, remained unconvinced, certain that there must have been some mistake. “Has not Lady Catherine had her information from Mr. Darcy? Perhaps she knows nothing of the matter herself.”

“But it was she who inquired into Mr. Wickham’s dealings. Did she not, Eliza? Lady Catherine had accounts from the people of Derbyshire where Mr. Wickham lived some years ago. She said specifically that Mr. Darcy tells her nothing of his business affairs.”

“La! I never would have taken Wickham for such a bounder! I cannot wait to tell Mrs. Forster and Mama and Aunt Philips. Do you think he has run up debts, or ruined any ladies hereabouts? Ooh!” Lydia tittered. “I shall make Denny tell me all he knows!”

Kitty continued alone in her stalwart defense of the soldier. “Lizzy, surely you cannot accept that! You have always liked Wickham.” She looked with hopeful eyes at her elder sister.

“I did like him,” Elizabeth answered, “but I cannot dismiss what I have heard. I am afraid Mr. Wickham has not been truthful with us about his past.”

“What of you, Jane? Do you not think that Lady Catherine must be mistaken in her opinion? Wickham is the most agreeable of all the officers. He cannot be so bad. I refuse to believe it.”

Jane had been quiet, save for a small gasp of surprise at the charges laid at the door of Meryton’s highly favoured redcoat. She had listened to Maria and Kitty with equal earnestness. Elizabeth knew her sister well and could see she wished to pacify both parties, impossible though it would prove. Jane’s words showed Elizabeth that she was right. “Much as I would wish to agree with you, Kitty, I find I cannot. It is clear from what Maria says that Lady Catherine’s words have merit. She could have no reason to fabricate and spread a tale about the son of her brother’s steward. What could she gain by it?” Jane paused and fiddled with her sleeve. “I have always suspected there must be more to the history between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy than what we knew. I could not believe Mr. Bingley’s closest friend capable of treating someone so cruelly.” She blushed and said no more about it.

Jane’s mention of Mr. Bingley did not go unnoticed by her sisters. As the party spilled out of the inn and settled in the carriage, Lydia took up the subject of her eldest sister’s marriage prospects with as much energy as she had the last topic of conversation, especially after Maria revealed that they had met Mr. Bingley in London. Lydia dominated the discussion, rattling on and putting forth questions without waiting for any replies.

“Will Mr. Bingley give another ball when he returns? I shall ask him again, just as I did in November,” Lydia said as the carriage door was shut. “We were all out walking with Aunt Philips several days ago, Mama, Kitty, and Mary too, when my aunt thought she spotted Mr. Bingley down the street from the blacksmith’s shop, riding in the direction of Longbourn. None of us believed her at the time. We were sure he must still be in London.” She shifted in her seat. “Do you think Mr. Bingley truly called on Papa while we were out? What a good joke that would be, and just like Papa never to tell us!” She clapped her hands together. “A daughter married! Mama will be so relieved that you are not to be a spinster after all.” She huffed. “I should not like to be almost three and twenty when I marry. It would be great fun if I secured a husband before any of you. Then I could chaperon you at all the balls!” She continued in like fashion, steering the discourse from balls and dancing to ball gowns and finery, and from there to a recent incident involving Chamberlayne dressed in a woman’s clothes. “He fooled them all, Kitty, did he not? Even Denny and Pratt and Wickham.” The mention of that escapade led inexorably back to the subject of Wickham’s scandalous behaviour.

By the time the ladies reached Longbourn, Lydia appeared to have forgotten all about Jane and her Mr. Bingley. With Maria’s able assistance, she energetically related all she had heard of Wickham to her parents and Mary and to several of the Lucases, who had come to meet Maria and were then in the house. Kitty was wild to walk to Meryton and reassure herself that Wickham was everything worthy. Lydia wished to accompany her, but for different reasons. “Mama, do let us go! I am sure I can make Denny give us the particulars if Wickham will not.”

The conversation excited Mr. Bennet’s concern sufficiently for him to prevent the excursion with a single curt remark; Mrs. Bennet agreed completely and declared it best that they all remain where they were. “Your father is quite right. There will be time enough to see the officers later, Lydia. Besides, I do not wish any of my girls to chance being in company with a known rake.”

Elizabeth listened to the others in gratitude and relief that the truth had emerged without her giving away any of Mr. Darcy’s secrets or earning the distinction of ‘bearer of ill tidings’. She did not wish to consider what Mr. Wickham might do were he the type of man, as Mr. Darcy’s first letter implied, to seek revenge.

~☆☽♭♮♯


“Jane, how soon will he come?” Elizabeth whispered as they stood together and waved goodbye to the Lucases. She smiled at her sister’s blush.

“Bingley will be here before dinner tomorrow.”

Elizabeth did not inquire further but the question must have been in her eyes, for Jane answered it without hesitation. “Mr. Darcy is coming as well, but I do not know how long he intends to remain in Hertfordshire. That reminds me; I must warn Mama to expect guests. I wonder that she asked me nothing of Bingley. Her letters have been full of little else. It must be as Lydia said. Bingley must have called here while the others were with Aunt Philips, and Papa has kept it a secret from them all.”

“Not to worry, my dear sister. As soon as the last Lucas is out of sight, Mama will recall her most beautiful child and her most pressing business, which is, as we know, to marry off her daughters so that she and Papa may have Longbourn to themselves once more. But perhaps she saw in your shining countenance all the proof she required and thus felt no need to trouble you for the particulars.”

“Lizzy, do be serious!”

“I am serious,” she laughed. Then more soberly she said, “You do look so happy, Jane.”

“Does it show?”

“You are no longer the melancholy girl who left for London in January. It pleases me to see it.”

Jane’s smile brightened her whole face. “It is good to hear you laugh again. Will you revert to the teasing, playful Lizzy we all know once you and Mr. Darcy have come to an understanding? You were so quiet on the journey here.”

Elizabeth was not in the mood to make light of her dilemma, and though she might have preferred to keep her struggles to herself, she knew it was useless to feign ignorance. “I had much to occupy my mind, Jane.”

“I can imagine.”

She supposed a sister on the verge of a formal engagement could very well imagine her thoughts. “It is all so strange.”

“You shall grow accustomed to it soon, I think.”

“How? How can you be certain?”

“You may not see it, but I do, and Bingley does. My aunt and uncle noticed as well. They did not know what to think of Mr. Darcy after all that my aunt had heard from Wickham at Christmas, although they were inclined to welcome any friend of Bingley’s. I asked them to withhold judgement until they had the chance to meet him for themselves. They saw what I saw: a man who clearly cares for you; and you…you are different in his company, Lizzy, in a good way. Not so easy as you might like, but that will come in time. You are not unhappy, surely? You do not dislike him still?” Elizabeth shook her head in reply. “You and he got on uncommonly well today. Not a single argument or sour face, to my recollection.”

Elizabeth laughed. “We did get on well. Mr. Darcy remarked on it himself.”

“Come, girls!” Mrs. Bennet ushered her children inside. “Jane, you must tell me all about London and how my brother and sister do. Have you had any callers since last you wrote?”

Jane leaned towards Elizabeth. “I suppose the time has come to let my secret out.”

“It appears so. You tell her, while I send Hill to fetch the smelling salts.”

The sisters giggled and walked arm in arm through Longbourn’s door.

~☆☽♭♮♯


“Oh! My dear, dear Jane, I knew how it would be. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing!”

Mrs. Bennet’s reaction to her eldest daughter’s engagement was all that Elizabeth had expected. She watched as her mother simpered and smiled and eventually scurried off in the direction of the kitchen, no doubt to plan an elaborate menu for the following day’s dinner.

Mr. Bennet called after his wife, “Remember, Mrs. Bennet, the engagement has not been sanctioned. The young man has yet to present himself.” His voice and manner, not to mention his unrestrained smile at Jane, plainly showed how happy he was.

“Mr. Bennet,” Elizabeth heard her mother reply, “have compassion on my nerves! ‘Tis not as if you are going to refuse him. Five thousand a year—what pin-money you shall have, Jane! Cook! Cook, I must speak with you.”

As Mrs. Bennet’s voice grew fainter, Mr. Bennet sidled up to Elizabeth. “I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”

“I am glad to be home, Papa.”

“You seem a little quiet. Did you not enjoy your time with the Gardiners?”

“Oh, most certainly! I always do.”

“And the journey home?”

“Uneventful.”

“Ah, then perhaps you regret having to relinquish the exalted company of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter.”

She forced a laugh. “Yes, something very like that, I am certain.”

Mr. Bennet seemed satisfied. “Well, well,” he murmured as he walked to his library, “I am glad you are come back, all the same.”

~☆☽♭♮♯


The evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not long enough for Elizabeth to determine her feelings towards one of the gentlemen expected at Longbourn the next day, and she lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make them out. She no longer disliked him; in fact, she believed she liked him very much. Whether those feelings might grow into something deeper was what she asked herself as she stared at the ceiling of her room. And if the answer was no, would respect and esteem be foundation enough for marital happiness? Would such offerings be deemed acceptable by a man who loved her so ardently?

She pulled out the letters and read each one again. As she tucked them inside Mr. Darcy’s book for safekeeping, she resolved to leave her questions for the morrow. Mr. Darcy’s presence so far had proven very helpful in bringing her true feelings to light. She could only hope that being with him again would help her know her own mind.

Late that night, Elizabeth dreamed of Mr. Darcy a second time. Instead of Mrs. Jenkinson’s furnishings, the familiar objects of her own chamber surrounded them as they sat together, and no little boy made an appearance—Fitzwilliam was quite grown up. She awoke to these vaguely pleasant recollections and fell asleep again almost immediately, attempting with limited success to recapture the fleeting images before they faded away completely.

~☆☽♭♮♯




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2 comments:

  1. I just can't seem to get away from your pages today! So many uses for "doors" in this story. I loved E's reference to her longing to escape the parson's relentless proposals, so yes, it is funny. I will check the appropriate box above! Sheryl

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