Previous Section, Section VIII

Chapter Thirty - Meeting Darcy in the Groves

Posted on Tuesday, 13 May 2008

The service for Easter Sunday was not so very different than that of a normal service, except for the more elaborate sermon given by Reverend Collins expounding on the virtues of the biblical verses, which took a great deal longer than usual to accomplish, given the orator’s affinity to hear his own voice. Elizabeth could not credit Mr. Collins’ sermon as being any better than his others, merely lengthier.

Due also to the crowded pews and the warmth of the day, both she and Mariah were sorely tempted to nod off as did several of the male parishioners whose snoring was evident no matter how much their respective companions prodded them to prevent it.

In time, however, even the torture of a much too long sermon came to its inevitable end and the whole of the congregation groggily rose to join voices in a final hymn before beginning their dispersal from the chapel. The congregants waited to be led out by Her Ladyship’s party. While she and Miss DeBourgh, along with Mrs. Jenkinson moved passed their pew, Lady Catherine intentionally ignored Elizabeth, though she did nod to Charlotte and Mariah. Behind her, both Darcy and the Colonel nodded to all three ladies. Richard even wished them all a “Good morning,” adding, “It is a lovely day for a stroll,” before he followed his aunt down the aisle. At hearing Richard’s remark, Darcy deliberately caught Elizabeth’s eye, arching his brow as his gaze remained steadily upon her.

Though neither spoke a word, a communication passed between them, understood by each to mean that they should meet by design under the bough of a certain tree in the center of the groves. Elizabeth nodded slightly before dropping her eyes as Lady Catherine turned back to address her nephew. Narrowing her eyes at Darcy’s staring at Elizabeth, she commanded, “Nephew, come along. We have much to discuss before dining.”

With that her skirts swishing pass the last of the pews as she made her way down the cobbles toward her elaborate carriage. Richard aided her and then Anne inside, handing in Mrs. Jenkinson last before settling himself onto the window seat. Darcy did not glance back as he entered the carriage, followed shortly by Lady Catherine’s cane rapping soundly on the roof as the signal they were ready. The coachman’s whip caused the horses to jerk the carriage away from the chapel. Elizabeth, Charlotte and Mariah were left at the chapel door along with several of the other congregants, all staring at Lady Catherine’s imperious departure.

Elizabeth vowed she would not be long at the parsonage before making her way out one of the many paths leading to the groves, though she was not at all sure what kind of reception she would find there.

While at the parsonage Darcy had been reluctant to initiate a renewal of their budding friendship. Of that Elizabeth was certain, especially after their first awkward meeting in front of their family members. His ignoring her throughout the Easter service at the Hunsford chapel seemed to confirm this, though he had surreptitiously asked her to meet him today in the groves. She found such opposing behavior quite puzzling too make out as she traveled the meandering path. While in deep ponder, still some distance from their arranged meeting place in the groves, she was startled when Darcy happened upon her.

She jumped. “Mr. Darcy!”

“Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth managed to quickly recover from her fright with a giggle and a slight curtsey. “Good day to you, sir.”

Bowing, and with a voice that did not indicate equal surprise at the apparently not so unexpected encounter, Darcy replied, “Good day to you, and Happy Easter.”

Elizabeth nodded. “And the same to you,” she returned, adding, “I hope you find your family at Rosings in good health.”

Darcy stated with less enthusiasm, “Yes, my Aunt and cousin appear…the same as always.”

With his addition, his voice lost much of the warmth Elizabeth had grown to expect from him. She, therefore, remained silent to see what next he would say. After a pause, he inquired, “I see you are on a ramble as is your norm, though without any of your companions?”

“Mr. Collins had business that kept him at the chapel while Charlotte and Mariah decided to go to the village on an errand.” She added with a tease, “I think Mariah wished for a bit of diversion after so lengthy a service.”

To this he made no reply other than an arched bow. Instead, he asked, “You feel confident walking alone to not lose yourself in the countryside, Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth could not keep a bit more tease from her reply. “Over the weeks I have become quite familiar with many of the paths around the parsonage, sir, so as not to get too lost.”

He paused before asking, “May I join you for a time, then, if it is not an intrusion?”

Taken by surprise at his request, but unable to think of an excuse not to include this more amiable Mr. Darcy, she merely nodded. They turned their steps onto the path that led the scenic way back to the parsonage.

After another awkward silence, Elizabeth fixed on a topic she had some interest and asked, “I understood from the Colonel’s conversation with Charlotte that you remained in London this year rather than making the trip to Pemberley prior to winter setting in?”

“That is correct.” His answer was as succinct a reply as befit a suddenly reserved Mr. Darcy, managing with but three words to convey an answer without adding any more by way of an explanation to encourage her continuance on that subject.

Trying again to initiate some conversation, she then asked, “While you were in town, had you not chanced to meet my sister? Jane was staying with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner these past several weeks?”

Darcy gave Elizabeth a passing glance only to quickly look off into the distance rather than directly at her, as though remembering his time in London over winter. He finally said only, “Unfortunately, no, I had not that pleasure.”

Hurriedly she continued, “Jane wrote that she called upon Miss Bingley at the Hurst townhouse upon their return from Scarborough, and of being informed by her that Mr. Bingley was not frequently at home. Rather, that he was often in company with you and your sister. Miss Bingley implied that your family was quite taken with him.”

At this information, Darcy frowned. “Miss Bingley exaggerates the frequency of our meetings. In truth, I believe we were in their company but once, having attended a night at the theatre as a group as had been prearranged before they left town for their holiday.” His voiced softened as he added only, “Bingley and I seldom had the time to see one another while I was in town over winter, meeting but once or twice and never again in my sister’s company.”

Darcy’s scowl remained, thinking of how he had curtailed going to the theater since, and how he even refused to visit his club after the incident the week after Christmas when Morris and Billingsford accosted him for the identity of the lady chess player he had escorted during the open house. He vowed not to show himself until he heard that they had removed from town.

From that day to the present, Darcy could not explain to his own satisfaction his feelings during the incident at the club. That he had no connection to Miss Bennet other than that of friendship had not stopped his vehemently denying his two friends access to her. His protective nature towards Miss Bennet that day reared in him which had rivaled what he often exhibited for his sister. His inability to find a correlation for his behavior had so unnerved him that even now he found speaking to her awkward. Thus, they each trod on in quiet reflection.

His glower, apparently indicating a sour attitude, discouraged Elizabeth from inquiring further of Mr. Bingley. Thinking instead, she was wont to ask why Georgiana had not written back after sending Lady Matlock the agreed upon sermon for Her Ladyship’s judgment. Elizabeth had also longed to ask if Mr. Darcy had yet to complete the task they had required of each other before departing London. It was clear that, on her part at least, she still desired to renew the easy rapport that had formed between them during that time.

However, having received nothing in return to her letter and with the current somberness of Mr. Darcy clearly in evidence, Elizabeth was left to ponder if Miss Darcy had also felt the same reluctance to respond. This further tended Elizabeth’s thoughts toward an unpleasant notion.

If they had been in Mr. Bingley’s company, perhaps the man had cooled his ardor for Jane in favor of another lady who more fitted his sisters’ approval.

Unable to gain any more information from her walking companion caused Elizabeth’s mind to race to a further conclusion.

If Mr. Bingley is as fickle as his friend implied earlier, to have perhaps now altered the object of his affections to that of Miss Darcy herself, it would stand to reason her unwillingness to write of it, especially knowing of the gentleman’s past attachment to Jane. If Miss Darcy thought news of the man having turned his sentiments onto herself might hurt the feelings to her newest acquaintance, would that not be sufficient cause to prevent her from penning any letter to either of us ?

Elizabeth’s own demeanor grew somber due in part to thinking of Jane’s continued sad disposition cast upon her by the situation of the Bingleys’ neglect and of Elizabeth’s growing suspicion that Mr. Darcy must have been partly responsible for it to succeed with such efficiency. She did not wish to believe what Wickham had eluded to, but with Darcy refusing to bother offering any satisfactory excuse for his friend’s absence from Netherfield, she felt incapable of renewing the ease that had previously marked their relationship.

During the silence, she continued to wonder. That Mr. Darcy had previously stated they had, in fact, not been often in Mr. Bingley’s company put Miss Bingley’s wishful implication to rest, and gave Elizabeth a renewed hope to then inquire, “And what of your sister, Miss Darcy? Does she remain in good health?”

Darcy had noticed her change in demeanor. While willing to participate in their usual exchange of wagers and forfeits, Elizabeth seeming preoccupation with another matter of which she has yet to relate to him forestalled his offering another subject on which to speak.

“Yes,” replied Darcy, “she…” slowly adding, “is staying with my Aunt and Uncle Matlock for the time being.”

With her curiosity now piqued to ponder on that fact, Elizabeth needed no encouragement other than the opportunity provided to then inquire after the lady just mentioned. She asked in a teasing manner, “And did Lady Matlock have the opportunity to read both our attempts at sermon writing to judge the winner of that particular wager?”

Darcy’s face appeared a mask, but Elizabeth thought she could detect some unpleasantness that could only mean his sermon was not the one favored by his aunt’s discretion. A smile began to lift the corners of her lips as she gazed at him.

Seeing that she awaited some reply, Darcy merely said, “My aunt had yet to discuss with me whose prose she preferred before Richard and I departed for Rosings.”

Elizabeth glanced at him, trying to discern the truthfulness of his statement and very curious for an explanation of the delay in making so simple a judgment of their amateur writings and more, the purpose of Darcy removing his sister from their own house to that of the Matlocks.

Arching her brow, as a clear indication she awaited a further reply, when Darcy failed to elaborate as to the reasoning for either event, it was apparent to Elizabeth that there was some reluctance on his part to speak on either topic. She, therefore, thought it judicious not to inquire further. Nor did she inquire after the health of his other relations, certain that Darcy would have mentioned it should that have not been the case

A feeble, “Oh,” was all she could muster, turning along the path to have him keep in step with her, both remained silent for a time.

Darcy finally remarked, “At your mention of our shared attempts at sermon writing, I have brought you something.” He removed a sheath of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

Opening it, she realized it was a copy of his attempt that he had previously stated had been given to his Aunt. Gazing at him for permission to read it, he nodded motioning her to a nearby bench and stood a few paces away to give her the privacy to peruse what he had written. She read silently.

“…and as per the scriptures of his being informed of his espoused wife’s condition, Joseph, the young carpenter, was at first confused at how to proceed. His life went from being planned out in a logical manner to a future life pitted with uncertainty. The man wished for some resolution that would not endanger his young betrothed, but he could not fathom how he could be expected to take her into his house after such a devastating preamble as she had admitted. Unsure if her own parents believed such a fantastical experience to which she attested, how could he? Joseph knew the law, that for such an offense as this, Mary ought to be stoned to death as an example to the others, but Joseph would not be party to that fate for his beloved.

In his mind, he could not believe that Yahweh would condemn her to such a fate, but at the same time, he could not see a way clear to live in the same village with all the populace believing she was such a woman who gave herself to a man before her marriage. What was he to do about her?

Determined to save her life, Joseph vowed to quietly divorce her, and thereby relegating her and her family to move away, thus preventing the burden of her sin upon them. Only then would Mary be safe to live out her life in peace. It broke Joseph’s heart to know he would never see his lovely fiancée again, but if that was the only way to save her, he would give her up. Every night he prayed that he was correct in his thinking, that it would be better for her this way. I tell you, God listens to the prayers of every righteous man, and answers them, though at times not in the manner we may have conceived.

This was the case for Joseph. His dreams were filled with the Holy Spirit, telling him to not worry in taking Mary as his wife. The Lord had indeed breathed life into her, and that she was carrying the Son of God whom would be named Jesus. Joseph woke up in a cold sweat at so disturbing a dream. If he did as he was told, what would his life be like? How would he face all the villagers? Would they think the babe was his? Would they lose respect for him? Would they allow the couple to continue to live there without reprisal?

Then, the true ramifications of what the future held hit him with a striking blow. “How am I to raise this child? A simple carpenter, as was my father before me, and his father before him, how am I to raise the Son of God? Am I to teach him my trade as He grows, knowing that is not to be His fate? Should I give Him to the temple to be raised by the priests? What would Mary say to such an action? Has the Lord given her some direction as to how this is to be accomplished?”

Clearly, Joseph could now see his path was more complicated than the simple one of his own planning. His free will to do as he wished rather than what God had laid out for him now came into play. Would he, like Mary, obey the will of the Father? Would he allow himself to be but another instrument in God’s holy plan for mankind, or simply turn away?

His faith was tested and proven strong. Along with Mary, they both gave themselves over to the Almighty. Together they would do the Father’s will. We, as Christians have the same free will to go along our own paths in life, or we have the means to be like Joseph, and allow the Lord to lead us to Him. Surely our faith is strong enough to have Him show us the way. All we need do is pray for His guidance and have faith in His promise to carry us home to Him.”

Elizabeth folded the page, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. Handing it back to Darcy, he pocketed the paper and in turn handed her his handkerchief to dab her eyes. “I had not the intention to cause you unease. I am sorry. Perhaps my talents in writing are not in the area of sermons.”

“On the contrary,” Elizabeth admitted, “It was a most insightful vision into the mind of a simply man put in an auspicious circumstance, and how he came to decide the fate of the world by his one action. I think anyone who heard such words would be moved to try to better their own lives.”

Darcy actually blushed as such praise coming from one educated enough to give an intelligent critique of his words. “Thank you.” Sitting beside her, he paused before asking hopefully, “Will you not allow me the same curtsey?”

She knew what he wished, and lamented, “Unlike yourself, I did not think to keep a copy of my sermon sent to your Aunt, and in truth, I do not feel it is anywhere near as powerful as the one I just read.”

Still, he insisted, “Can you not speak of it? What subject did your thoughts settle on as you read the scriptures? How did you proceed to accomplish some words of inspiration?”

Elizabeth could see how much he wished to know her thoughts on the same bible verses they had independently shared, and sighed, “As a woman, I naturally tended toward how Mary‘s feelings would be about having such a fate overtake her life, especially for one so young and naïve.” As Elizabeth thought on what she had written, her words came to the forefront. “As I read about what befell her, I wondered what Mary was thinking along the journey to Bethlehem that the law required of Joseph, and now she, too, as his wife, as they traveled to the city of his ancestors.

She was leaving all that was known to her, all her family and friends when she was great with a first child and no women to help her through the birthing should her time come before her return to their village. Although the Romans had carved out roads back then, I am sure they were only rough paths for the livestock and wagons to travel. Only such were available to them as comparison to the ones we travel today, so it must have been difficult for her to not complain while they journeyed. And because of the census, when her time came, there was not even a house into which she could rest, only a stable and hay.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I am certain Mary was frightened to be in such circumstances with only Joseph to aid her through. I can not imagine how anyone of my acquaintance who at her age could have endured it, and felt there must have been some extraordinary aspect to the child she delivered that night to give her courage.”

Turning to Darcy, Elizabeth stared into his eyes as she continued, “We think of Jesus as the Son of God after His maturity, but in truth, there must have been an appearance of His holiness even at His birth, else how could those who witnessed His coming recognize Him as the Messiah? Did the angels who appeared to the shepherds surround Him at the stable? At His presentation in the temple, how did Simeon know Him?* Was there perhaps an aura about the babe?

And the travelers who followed the star to find Him with His mother and father, how could they know to whom they were led if His holiness was not pronounced in Him even then? The Christ Child must have shown his Godliness for those few people to recognize Him.”

Looking away, Elizabeth’s voice softened. “Now all these centuries later, would we recognize Him in those He left to do His work? Will any of us see Him in our fellow man as did those who witnessed the aspect of Godliness in that tiny baby? It is my contention that we can and do recognize Christ in us as we walk through our lives. It is merely in the act of looking for Him that we will find Him, perhaps in a wrinkled face or the eyes of a young lad or lass. That, too, was why He came to us, that we should all strive to know Him, to follow Him that He might lead us home.”

As Elizabeth’s speech ceased, there was a pause before Darcy offered, “You have given my Aunt a great gift, one in which she will relish when she has the chance to read your words.”

Elizabeth gazed up at him. “That is most remarkable, sir. I would have thought how a woman views the Scriptures would be looked down upon as insignificant as compared to those of a man’s insights.”

This barb did not go unnoticed by Darcy who countered, “The Almighty has given both sexes the ability to see different aspects of His words, Miss Bennet, to relate them to their daily lives, that we might all see Him in each other, and follow His teachings.” He paused before adding, “Thank you for allowing me the privilege of hearing your sermon. If there ever comes a time when your gender is allowed in the pulpit, it will be a good day, indeed, to hear how the Almighty’s words are reflected from the viewpoint of the gentler sex.”

At this she bowed her head at the complement, saying, “That is most kind, sir. However, as my sister, Mary, is wont to point out, many feel that had the Lord meant for women to become ministers, He would have given them that directive.”

Darcy smiled. “When Our Lord preached to the multitudes, were there not women included in the crowd when he commanded them to profess His Word?” Elizabeth nodded, arching her eyebrow with an equal smile.

Darcy continued, “As time goes by, knowledge gives mankind the ability to see through new eyes to make progress. We have done away with slavery in our Empire when even five years prior, it would have been unheard of. Likewise, with knowledge comes wisdom to change those aspects of our lives that will be more beneficial,” adding, “which might one day include ministers of your gender.”

When she looked at him with renewed skepticism that such an occurrence would come about in the very near future, he merely tipped his hat. With a bow to indicate his departure, he asked, “Have you never read Paul’s letter to the Romans, chapter 16?”

“I do not recall the specific passage, but at your recommendation I will endeavor to review it at my earliest convenience.”

Their walk took them around the path along the grove of beech, both remaining in relative silence as neither seemed to know on what other topic to opine. Finally, coming to a subject she thought would lend itself to the lightness of their speech, she smiled, asking, “And how are you progressing in the use of alternative cutlery, Mr. Darcy?”

He admitted, “There has been little time to practice.”

“Then perhaps you need some more weeks to accomplish the task,” she replied though not without showing a smirk that he now owed her forfeit.

Her smugness caused her inattentiveness to the path, resulting in her stumbling over one of the tree roots erupting in the path. She would have fallen had not Darcy reached out to grasp her by the elbow and waist as she grabbed onto his arms, cautioning, “Have a care, Miss Bennet, lest you take a fall.”

I…oh…thank you, sir,” she managed, still clinging to his sleeves to steady herself.

“Of late all the paths are overrun.”

“So, I see, Mr. Darcy. In Meryton, likewise, the tree roots have burst forth, intruding into the many paths I frequent.”

“It is due no doubt to the drought over several months.”

“Of course, a gentleman farmer such as yourself would know about such things,” she tried to tease as she attempted to pull from his embrace. Both now felt some undistinguished awkwardness and quickly released their holds of the other, only afterwards to feel bereft by the lack of touch yet without an understanding of the implication.

They had come to the path leading to the parsonage and, with a bow Darcy reminded her that she was included in the invitation to dine at Rosings the next evening along with her relations. She barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at the prospect. “Yes, I am afraid Lady Catherine will have the privilege of my company yet again, Mr. Darcy.”

He frowned at her response, but merely replied, “Until then, I bid you good day.” With a tip of his hat he left her in great confusion at his conflicting behavior and her skin tingling where his hands had touched her.

I refuse to believe Mr. Wickham’s avowals that Mr. Darcy remains cordial only as it gives him benefit. Though amiable at present, clearly this is not the same man who befriended me while in Meryton and London. Whatever could have happened to cause such reserve and recalcitrance that seems to diminish slightly whenever he speaks in absence of an audience? Is that what is causing my own unease in his company?

*Luke 2:25-35

To Be Continued . . .