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Posted on Tuesday, 3 June 2008
‘That gentleman looks like he doesn’t want to be here any more than I do,’ Mr. Bennet mused, observing the bored expression on the face of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who had just moments before entered the Meryton assembly rooms with Mr. Charles Bingley and his party.
Mr. Bennet did not care for balls or social gatherings one bit—he only attended to keep watch over his daughters where his wife was not inclined to do so. And, of course, he often found diversion in the follies and faults of those around him.
‘Perhaps he would also prefer to spend his evening at home in the library. I may strike up a conversation with him and see if my guess is correct. Who knows, he may prove to be an interesting study.’
His train of thought was broken by the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet.
“Mr. Bennet!” she cried, “Look! Look now, they are here! You must introduce us to Mr. Bingley immediately!”
“Mrs. Bennet, I daresay Mr. Bingley will appear before us any minute now with that very intention, for he expressed a strong desire to be acquainted with our daughters when I called on him,” Mr. Bennet said dryly. “So you may hold your tongue. Mark my words, Bingley will need no prompting—“
Mr. Bingley chose that moment to approach the Bennets, saying, “Mr. Bennet, I’m delighted to see you again.”
“As am I,” Mr. Bennet replied. “Mr. Bingley, this is my wife, Mrs. Bennet, and our two eldest, Jane and Elizabeth.” He gestured to where his daughters stood on the other side of Mrs. Bennet. “Our daughter Mary sits over there, and our two youngest, Catherine and Lydia, are not yet out.”
“We are very glad you are come to Hertfordshire, Mr. Bingley,” said Mrs. Bennet.
“And I am very happy to make your acquaintance,” Bingley said, nodding to Jane and Elizabeth, who smiled prettily.
“May I introduce you to my friend Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy stepped forward slightly.
“Certainly,” answered Mr. Bennet. ‘I had wondered how much longer he would continue to hover behind Bingley,’ he thought, amused.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley in Derbyshire,” Bingley said.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Bennet said sincerely.
“I thank you, sir,” Darcy replied stiffly.
A moment of awkward silence followed.
“Well then,” Bingley said brightly, turning to Jane, “Would you do the honor of dancing the first with me, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, I would, sir,” Jane answered.
The music stopped and those who had been dancing began to mill about the room, but Bingley stood still, entranced by the lovely Miss Bennet.
Jane began to feel disconcerted by Bingley’s staring. “Mr. Bingley?”
“Oh! Thank you for our dance, Miss Bennet. It was wonderful.”
She simply smiled demurely and excused herself with a graceful bow, walking over to where Mrs. Bennet stood talking to Charlotte and Lady Lucas.
Bingley, in turn, returned to Darcy’s side and promptly admonished him for not dancing.
“Come, Darcy,” he said. “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in such a stupid manner.”
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At an assembly such as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to stand up with.”
"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."
"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
"Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."
"Which do you mean?" and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."
Elizabeth Bennet was silently fuming as she overheard this exchange, but as she regained her composure, Elizabeth soon felt that the ridiculousness of the situation merited a good laugh with her friend.
She got up and made her way toward Charlotte, unable to hide the smirk on her face as she passed Darcy.
Unbeknownst to any of them, Mr. Bennet had silently observed both Bingley and Darcy’s conversation and Elizabeth’s reaction to it.
Darcy paced about the assembly room, seemingly oblivious to the many curious eyes that followed him. As he stood near the entrance, Mr. Bennet approached him.
“Mr. Darcy,” he began, with a gleam in his eye, “If I may say so, I believe we are of the same mind concerning our present occupation.”
“I beg your pardon?” Darcy looked bewildered.
“I daresay you would rather be spending a quiet evening at home, as would I,” Mr. Bennet replied, taking a step closer to Darcy. “Is that not so, sir?”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “Indeed it is.”
“May I also venture to guess that you are an avid reader?”
“Reading is certainly one of my favorite pastimes.”
“I should like to discuss literature with you sometime,” said Mr. Bennet. “Apart from my Lizzy, I do not often find intelligent conversation in my house.”
As Darcy made no objection, he continued: “Would tomorrow at three be convenient for you?”
“I have no engagements at present,” Darcy replied.
“I thank you, sir,” said Mr. Bennet. “I look forward to it.”
“Oh! What a delightful evening!” cried Mrs. Bennet, “There was nothing like it—Jane was so admired!”
“But Mr. Darcy!” she continued, with a sudden change of expression, “Slighted poor Lizzy! I can assure you, however, that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you would have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man."
“Well, we cannot escape the acquaintance now,” Mr. Bennet remarked.
“It is of no consequence,” said Elizabeth.
“If you say so, dear. But I will say that I did not think him to be so disagreeable.”
“Nor I,” added Jane. “I believe Mr. Darcy may improve on closer acquaintance.”
The conversation soon ended due to the late hour, but Jane and Elizabeth resumed their discussion after they were ensconced in Jane’s bedroom.
“We cannot expect much of Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth began, “but what about Mr. Bingley?”
"He is just what a young man ought to be," said Jane, "Sensible, good-humoured, lively--and I never saw such happy manners!"
"He is also handsome," said Elizabeth laughingly, "which a young man ought to be, if he possibly can."
"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment."
"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person."
"Dear Lizzy!"
"Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life," Elizabeth said.
"I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any one; but I always speak what I think."
"I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough; -- one meets it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design -- to take the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad -- belongs to you alone. And so you like this man's sisters too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his."
"Certainly not--at first,” Jane replied. “But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his house, and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her."
Elizabeth sighed. “Very well, Jane.”
Posted on Wednesday, 4 June 2008
“Come in, Mr. Darcy,” called Mr. Bennet from his library.
He entered. “Good day, sir. Is all your family in good health?”
“Yes, yes,” Mr. Bennet said impatiently. “Welcome to Longbourn. Please have a seat.”
Darcy sat down in the nearest chair and looked about the room.
The two soon began a lively discussion of Shakespeare, and Darcy was pleasantly surprised to find Mr. Bennet in possession of a extensive knowledge of literature and a biting sense of humour.
“Thank you for your invitation. I enjoyed your conversation,” said Darcy. “And your library is quite good. I daresay the quality is better than Bingley’s.”
“Although I have not the means of supporting a great library, I had thought it might contain something tolerable enough to tempt a man such as yourself,” said Mr. Bennet with a wicked grin.
The gentleman looked visibly flustered. “I—that is, I meant—do forgive me, Mr. Bennet. I was in a foul mood last night, but that was no excuse for such a remark.”
“Indeed. I quite agree, Mr. Darcy. However, the one you should be asking forgiveness from is not me but Elizabeth.”
“Of course, sir.”
“My Lizzy does not take such things lightly. I fear she has become prejudiced against you, so be sure to approach her in a careful manner.”
Darcy nodded his acquiescence.
“Enough of that, then. I’m sure we will be seeing you soon,” Mr. Bennet said, showing Darcy to the door. “By the bye, I believe Elizabeth is currently in the gardens,” he added with a meaningful look.
Stepping outside, it did not take Darcy long to spot Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth?” he asked quietly, trying not to startle her.
Elizabeth turned in his direction. “Mr. Darcy,” she returned with a steely glare, “I did not expect to see you here.”
“I have come to seek your forgiveness,” he began.
Now Elizabeth looked startled. “Indeed?”
“Yes. My comment yesterday—it was most rude of me, and furthermore, I—I did not mean—that is, I was only annoyed with Bingley because I was not inclined to dance.”
Darcy paused and looked into her eyes. “I actually find you rather tempting.”
Elizabeth was speechless for a moment, having just heard the last thing she would have ever expected from Mr. Darcy and finding herself lost in that man’s soulful gaze.
Quickly she averted her eyes to regain her composure and managed a small “Oh.”
“Your apology was most gracious, sir, and…I forgive you,” Elizabeth said finally, giving him a tentative smile.
Standing next to Elizabeth in the Lucases’ drawing room, Mr. Bennet observed her sharp intake of breath as she saw Darcy enter the room.
“Lizzy, are you alright? You look a bit flushed,” he said, teasing.
Elizabeth, however, felt she probably was blushing (such were the nature of her thoughts on seeing Darcy), and answered seriously, “I am fine. I was just thinking—I believe you were correct in your assessment of Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh? What do you make of his character now?”
“I cannot make it out,” she replied. “Still, he has given me much to think on.”
Charlotte approached, and the two friends began to talk animatedly. A few minutes later, Elizabeth noticed Darcy attending to their conversation from a distance.
“What can Mr. Darcy mean by listening to our conversation?” she wondered aloud.
"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer."
"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about,” Elizabeth said.
However, the next time she looked in his direction, Darcy had gone.
“He is gone,” Elizabeth told Charlotte, “and it is very well, for I did not want to speak with him.”
“Now, Lizzy,” Charlotte began.
“I know what you are thinking, Charlotte. His apology may have caused me to think better of him than I did at the assembly, but I still say he has entirely too much pride. Mr. Darcy hardly speaks at all beyond his own party. He clearly thinks himself above the rest of us,” said Elizabeth hotly.
“We will see. But Lizzy, try to keep an open mind,” Charlotte entreated her friend.
Elizabeth strode purposefully across the room to speak to her father while Charlotte went to assist Lady Lucas with something.
She was stopped by Sir William, who was standing next to Mr. Darcy.
"My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."
“Indeed I cannot refuse,” said Darcy. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honour of dancing the next with me?”
“I thank you, but I am not inclined to dance,” she replied.
Turning to Sir William, Elizabeth continued: "Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."
She gave Mr. Darcy an arch look and excused herself.
“Can I have the carriage?” Jane asked her father upon reading Caroline Bingley’s letter.
"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night," answered Mrs. Bennet.
“There is no sense in that,” Mr. Bennet retorted. “Jane, I will not hear of you riding in this weather. You may have the carriage. I daresay we can spare it for a few hours.”
“Thank you, father,” Jane said warmly.
“Still, you must make what you can of it,” advised Mrs. Bennet. “Be sure to include Mr. Bingley when you return the invitation.”
Jane assented and then prepared to leave.
Later, as she looked out the carriage window, Jane wondered what would have happened if Mr. Bennet had not objected to Mrs. Bennet’s suggestion. She thought it very likely that she would have caught cold in this weather.
Clouds loomed ominously in the darkening sky, and rain began to fall lightly just as Jane arrived at Netherfield.
“Miss Bennet!” cried Miss Bingley as Jane stepped out of the carriage. “Do hurry, otherwise you will be soaked through.”
“I assure you, I was in no danger,” Jane replied, coming in the entry hall. “It was only sprinkling.”
However, the storm soon grew more violent, and the ladies could hear thunder approaching as they dined.
“Goodness,” said Jane. “I do hope the skies will soon be clear again.”
“You must not think of leaving while the rain continues,” Mrs. Hurst told her.
The ladies retired to the sitting room after they had finished their meal. When Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst started interrogating her about her family’s connections, Jane began to feel uneasy.
“And your mother’s brother resides in London?” Miss Bingley inquired.
“Yes, in Gracechurch Street.”
“What part of London is Gracechurch Street, Jane?”
“Well, I—”
Suddenly their conversation was halted by the sound of the gentlemen coming in the front door.
Jane was immensely relieved to see Mr. Bingley come in, and a huge smile appeared on her face.
“Miss Bennet!” cried Bingley, grinning ridiculously.
Then he turned to his sister and said, “Caroline, you didn’t tell me Miss Bennet would be here.”
“It must have slipped my mind,” she replied dryly.
“Miss Bennet,” Darcy said abruptly. “You may be pleased to know that the rain has cleared.”
“I am glad to hear it. Thank you for your attention,” said Jane. “Mr. Bingley, would you be so kind as to request that my carriage be readied?”
“Of course,” he answered, wasting no time in dispatching a servant.
“I would like to invite all of you to tea at Longbourn tomorrow afternoon,” she continued.
“Splendid! We would be delighted!”
“You know very well why I refused to dance with him.”
“Elizabeth,” said Mr. Bennet, eyeing her sternly.
He loved his second daughter dearly, but there were times when her determination was more than a little frustrating. As Elizabeth sat across from him in the library, arms crossed with a pouty look on her face, Mr. Bennet wished for a moment that she would be less like himself.
“Do you realize that Mr. Darcy sat in that very spot not a week ago?”
Mr. Bennet’s offhand comment had caught Elizabeth off guard. “What do you mean? What business did he have here?”
“It was not business. I invited Mr. Darcy here to discuss books. He accepted, and we had a pleasant time.”
Elizabeth was silent.
“Now, that does not sound like a man who thinks all of Hertfordshire beneath him, does it? I beg you would also consider that Mr. Darcy’s reticence in society stems from his natural shyness rather than pride.”
“I will consider it,” Elizabeth said stiffly.
“He and Bingley should be here soon. Elizabeth, please show me that you are considering what I said by your manner towards Mr. Darcy.”
Not five minutes later, Elizabeth found herself greeting Mr. Darcy in the parlour.
“Good day, Mr. Darcy.” She forced herself to smile, which was not very difficult as he looked rather handsome.
Darcy, never having seen one of Elizabeth’s smiles directed at him, was mesmerized. He stared for a moment, then answered with a radiant smile of his own. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Elizabeth.”
The lady, in turn, was quite overcome by witnessing one of Mr. Darcy’s rare smiles, and barely heard a word that he said.
Mr. Bennet chuckled. ‘They make an interesting couple,’ he thought.
“Mrs. Bennet, I hope you will excuse my sisters. They are feeling a bit ill at present,” said Bingley.
“Oh! Do send our regards to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.”
Bingley moved closer to Jane and addressed her: “Miss Bennet, I hope you suffered no ill effects from the weather yesterday?”
Jane’s eyes shined brightly. “I am quite well, sir.”
After tea, Mrs. Bennet suggested that Jane and Elizabeth take their guests for a walk around Longbourn’s park.
Jane and Bingley walked ahead, and Elizabeth was surprised when Darcy began the conversation.
“Do you visit London often, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I have been a few times,” she said slowly, “to stay with my aunt and uncle, the Gardiners.”
“And do you prefer the country to town?”
“Yes, I find it much more agreeable.”
Darcy smiled. “I am of the same opinion. I would spend all my time in the country at Pemberley if I could.”
They came to a turn in the path and paused.
“Miss Elizabeth, I believe that you would appreciate the natural beauty of Pemberley more than most. Would you care to see it?”
A slight frown crossed her features.
“I hope I did not offend you,” Darcy said anxiously.
“No, not at all, Mr. Darcy, I am flattered by your asking me to see Pemberley. I am only puzzled because your present behavior is quite different from what I first thought of you.”
“I hope you will allow for mistaken first impressions,” Darcy said archly, raising an eyebrow.
“It was very nice of Mr. Bingley to personally invite us to his ball,” Jane said to Elizabeth.
A week after Bingley and Darcy had come for tea, Bingley paid a short call on the ladies of Longbourn to invite them to the Netherfield Ball.
“Yes, and you cannot deny it was a compliment to you,” Elizabeth replied, brushing out her long curls before bed.
“Lizzy!” Jane reprimanded, blushing prettily nonetheless.
“Especially,” she continued, “since your Mr. Bingley asked you for the first two dances straight away, ensuring that no other gentleman even had a chance!”
“He is not my Mr. Bingley.”
“If he is not, he very soon will be.”
"Well, what about your Mr. Darcy?"
"I have nothing to say about that gentleman."
"It is clear that he admires you, Lizzy. No one could miss his marked attentions of late."
“Good night, Jane.”
Sleep was elusive for Elizabeth that night and she rose earlier than her usual hour to find solace in a walk before breakfast.
She slipped outside quietly and made her way toward Oakham Mount, reveling in the simple glories of nature and the coolness of the morning air.
After a few minutes Elizabeth heard a rider approaching.
She turned, and on recognizing the man cried, “Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy dismounted and walked his horse over to where she stood. “I hope I did not disturb you. Is this one of your favorite walks?”
“Yes, it is,” Elizabeth answered. “You have a habit of surprising me, sir.”
Darcy only flashed her another smile, further increasing her opinion of him.
“Do you also have a habit of riding early?” she inquired.
“I often ride before the rest of the house is awake. I find it relaxing.”
“I see.”
“Miss Elizabeth…”
“Yes?” she said breathlessly.
“May I request the honour of dancing the first set with you at Bingley’s ball?”
“I should like that very much.”
Posted on Thursday, 12 June 2008
“Papa? Has something happened?” asked Jane as she and Elizabeth entered Mr. Bennet’s study.
“I would like your assistance,” Mr. Bennet said seriously.
“Of course,” the sisters replied in unison.
“It has recently come to my attention that Mary seems a bit neglected.”
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. “I confess it escaped my notice,” Elizabeth admitted.
“Yes, well, I would like to see the two of you involving Mary in your activities more. And perhaps you could help her with a new hairstyle or something?”
“I will do everything I can,” Jane promised.
“As will I. Perhaps Mary would enjoy walking with me?” Elizabeth said.
So it was that Mary Bennet began to come into her own. Mr. Bennet spent a little time asking her about books she had read, Jane helped Mary with her appearance, and Elizabeth became her confidante during their daily walks. The effects were immediate. Even a few days after their conversation in the study, Mr. Bennet started to notice improvements. Mary smiled more, had a healthy glow in her cheeks, and did not quote Fordyce as often.
One afternoon, as Elizabeth and Mary were walking, the elder remarked, “You have become a very pleasant companion, Mary. You used to be so severe. Why was that?”
“It is hard to say,” Mary said slowly. “I think I felt ignored by you and my other sisters because we did not enjoy the same things, so I had to seek attention in my own way.”
She smiled ruefully. “It did not work very well, did it?”
“No. But I am to blame as well. I should have shown more interest in you,” Elizabeth replied.
“Mr. Darcy seems to have quite the interest in you, Lizzy,” Mary said mischievously, changing the subject. “What is your opinion of him now?”
“I can no longer find fault with Mr. Darcy,” she answered. “Beyond that, I cannot say.” Elizabeth could not reveal that she had begun to find Mr. Darcy attractive. She thought of their last few conversations, shivering as she recalled the intense look in his dark eyes. Elizabeth looked forward to the Netherfield Ball with great anticipation.
“…If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se'nnight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. -- I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend, William Collins."
"At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter.
“Odious man,” muttered Mrs. Bennet.
"He must be an oddity, I think," said Elizabeth, "I cannot make him out. Can he be a sensible man, sir?"
"No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse,” Mr. Bennet replied.
Kitty and Lydia showed no interest whatsoever, while Mary admired the expression of Mr. Collins’ letter. Sometime later, the Bennets assembled near the front door to greet their relation and found him to be all they expected. Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society. His pretentious manner did little to recommend him. Furthermore, Mr. Collins’ overtures admiring everything that belonged to Longbourn, while meant to flatter, were interpreted as a sign of avarice.
However, Mrs. Bennet was not so insensible as to discourage Mr. Collins’ intention to marry one of her daughters. Indeed, when the clergyman approached her in the course of the next morning, Mrs. Bennet had already decided which Miss Bennet would be intended for him.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh, you know,” Mr. Collins began, “is the model of condescension. The very parsonage where I reside suffers no lack of attention on her part. Why, there is nothing to be done which that great lady does not instruct me on….”
Mrs. Bennet quickly grew disinterested in Mr. Collins’ speech, which droned on for several minutes until she heard mention of marriage.
“…greatest hope, that a mistress for it might be found here at Longbourn. Lady Catherine has informed me specifically that she wishes me to take a wife before my return to Kent. The very Saturday before I left, she said to me, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.'”
By this point Mrs. Bennet was all attentiveness.
“So you see, my dear Mrs. Bennet, I have come with the best of intentions toward you and your daughters.” He hesitated a moment, and then pressed on: “Perhaps the eldest Miss Bennet?”
“Oh! Mr. Collins, I feel it incumbent upon me to inform you that my eldest will very soon be engaged,” said Mrs. Bennet. “And the next eldest, Elizabeth,” she added almost as an afterthought. Mrs. Bennet was not entirely sure of the attachment between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, but she would take no chances offending the great Mr. Darcy.
“I see,” Mr. Collins replied slowly, shaking his head in confusion.
“Kitty and Lydia are not yet out, you know, but I think Mary would make a fine parson’s wife,” she said hopefully.
Elizabeth was growing restless in the days before the ball, so she organized a walk to Meryton.
“My dear cousin Mary, will you accompany me on our walk?” Mr. Collins simpered.
“Of course she will!” cried Mrs. Bennet, effectively eliminating Mary’s ability to respond.
So Mr. Collins, Mary, Jane, and Elizabeth set off. For the first few minutes, they engaged their cousin in polite conversation, but that soon turned into a monologue from Mr. Collins. Fortunately, he was so consumed by his own raptures on the splendor of Rosings that the sisters were able to amuse themselves by whispering and laughing quietly.
Upon entering the village, one of the officers made his way toward them.
“Good day, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary,” said Mr. Denny, greeting each of the girls.
They responded in a similar manner and then Jane asked, “May we introduce our cousin Mr. Collins?”
“Certainly, it is my pleasure,” replied Denny.
“Mr. Collins, this is Lieutenant Denny.”
“Indeed it is my pleasure, sir. My lovely cousins are so gracious and kind as to bring me into Meryton this afternoon—“
“Of course, I beg your pardon for having almost forgotten.” Denny motioned for Wickham to come forward. “My friend, Mr. George Wickham, has just come from London with me. He is to join the regiment here at Meryton.”
“I’m delighted to make the acquaintance of such charming young ladies,” Wickham said smilingly.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well,” replied Elizabeth. They conversed for a few minutes and she could not deny that his countenance and manners were pleasing.
Mary, ever observant, was the first to notice Darcy and Bingley riding down the street in their direction. “Look, there’s Mr. Bingley,” she said, nudging Jane.
The gentlemen approached and began the usual civilities, but much of this was lost on Elizabeth, who was distracted by noticing Darcy’s face turn red when he saw Wickham. She was all astonishment at the cold manner of their greeting, and filled with curiosity as to their situation. However, having known Mr. Darcy for some time, Elizabeth could not help but feel wary of Mr. Wickham.
Over the course of the next couple days, Elizabeth kept these musings to herself, as no one else appeared to have noticed the palpable tension between Darcy and Wickham. When Mr. Wickham importuned her with the story of how Darcy wronged him, Elizabeth became distraught. She could not reconcile the man who disregarded his father’s will for his godson with the man who gazed at her and invited her to see his home. The confusion Elizabeth felt drove her to seek solace in Jane’s company and advice, but it was futile, for Jane refused to believe ill of either Darcy or Wickham.
“Bingley, are you not ready?” Darcy asked, finding his friend in his rooms. “Your guests will be here shortly.”
“Yes, yes, in a moment,” Bingley replied.
Darcy had been dressed for the ball over an hour ago, his appearance meticulously arranged with the help of his valet. He looked quite dashing. But under the mask of his reserve, Darcy’s mind was a wreck with thoughts of Wickham.
Even as the guests began to arrive, Darcy could think of little else. It was not until the Bennets made an appearance that he found a sufficient distraction in the form of the lovely Miss Elizabeth.
Darcy gallantly bowed before her and kissed her hand. “Miss Elizabeth, you look beautiful this evening.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied, blushing.
Darcy offered Elizabeth his arm and escorted her into the room. The two engaged in polite conversation, talking of nothing significant, until the first dance began.
Much as Elizabeth relished the feel of dancing with Darcy, she was plagued with a sense of discomfort not knowing what had really happened with Wickham. She did not wish to spoil the moment, but Elizabeth had to bring up the subject of that man.
“When you met us in Meryton the other day,” she began, “we had just formed a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. She would not further provoke Darcy’s anger or displeasure.
Silently they continued dancing. Darcy’s face had lost all expression and he did not even look at Elizabeth to see her fine eyes pleading him to speak.
After a length of time, the music stopped and Elizabeth found herself being guided out of the ballroom by Darcy’s hand on the small of her back.
Astonished, but not wishing to make a scene, she waited until they reached the hallway and then whirled around to berate Darcy for his presumption.
He, however, spoke first. “I beg your pardon, madam. Again I have treated you most rudely.”
Elizabeth glared at him.
“But I had good reason. When you mentioned—that man—my anger rose to the point where I judged it best not to say anything at all.”
“And may I not understand why Mr. Wickham makes you so angry?”
Darcy looked at her softly for a moment and then answered, “It is a difficult matter, but I believe that is not too much to ask. Indeed, I would have told you sooner had you asked.”
He motioned to a room down the hall, suggesting that they continue the conversation in the library.
When they were settled in two of the chairs, Darcy began, “Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man…”
A half hour later, he concluded saying, "This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together, and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth was at a loss for words. She stared at her hands folded tightly in her lap and felt ashamed that she could have ever doubted Darcy.
Finally she said, “Of course I believe you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy’s features relaxed visibly.
“I never believed Wickham’s lies either,” she said hurriedly, wanting to reassure him. “I simply did not understand your history with him because there seemed to be some truth to what he said.”
“Naturally,” said Darcy.
The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as he rose from his seat. “Before we return to the ballroom, I would like to ask you a question. Two questions, actually.”
“Yes?”
“What are your sister’s feelings for Mr. Bingley?”
“She loves him,” Elizabeth declared firmly.
“I am glad to hear it. Now, will you grant me permission to court you?”
“I will,” she replied.
Breakfast the next day found the Bennets in recollection of the last night’s festivities.
Jane and Elizabeth kept to themselves, smiling and laughing quietly.
Mrs. Bennet was in raptures over Mr. Bingley, whom she believed was soon to propose, although Jane would not comment on that topic.
Mr. Bennet silently observed the warm glow on Elizabeth’s cheeks and realized that he was about to lose his second daughter sooner than he thought.
And Mr. Collins stared licentiously at Mary throughout the whole meal, hardly noticing the porridge he was spilling on his coat.
At the end of the meal, the clergyman addressed Mrs. Bennet: "May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Mary, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?"
Before Mary had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. Bennet instantly answered, "Oh dear! Yes--certainly. I am sure Mary will be very happy--I am sure she can have no objection.”
Mary Bennet’s brow creased in confusion. That was the third time Mr. Rochester had turned around in his pew to look at her when he thought no one was watching. Not that she had been watching his every move or anything. It was rather difficult not to notice. Mr. James Rochester, formerly of London, currently of Meryton, had been recently employed as a clerk in Mr. Philips’ office. He was not a wealthy man by any means, but he was admired by many for his strong work ethic and pleasing manners. Mr. Rochester had a fine figure, a pair of piercing blue eyes, and an understated charm that was most endearing. He had become acquainted with most of Hertfordshire, including the Bennets, through his employer. As the clergyman gave the final blessing at the end of the service, Mr. Rochester nervously ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. He quickly made his way to Mary. “Miss Bennet?” She laughed. “Miss Bennet is my eldest sister, you know,” Mary said archly. “That would be me.” “May I escort you home?” “I would like that.” She looked questioningly to Mr. Bennet (who had been carefully observing their conversation) and he nodded his consent. As Mary expected, Mr. Rochester offered her his arm as they began walking. What she did not expect was the tingling sensation his touch gave. “That shade of green is particularly becoming on you,” he said, admiring her gown. “Thank you,” she replied, smiling weakly.
“Good day, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy greeted them after church. “Miss Elizabeth.” He glanced around with that unreadable expression, not meeting her eyes. Mr. Bennet narrowed his eyes at Darcy. ‘Idiot,’ he thought. “If you will excuse me, I must catch up with my other daughters,” Mr. Bennet said, guiding Mrs. Bennet away with him. The couple looked about awkwardly for a moment. “Have you spoken with Mr. Wickham lately?” Darcy asked abruptly. “You know I have,” she replied fiercely. “But I would beg you not to assume anything beyond that.” “When I saw you with him—can you not see how that tortured me?” he cried. “What would you have me think of that?” “I would not tell you what to think. I can only tell you what happened from my point of view.” Darcy nodded. “He said that you were engaged. And I…“—her voice faltered—“I did not fully believe it, but I…I doubted…” His face turned cold as stone. “How could you? How could you think that?” “I know it was foolish,” she said quietly. “But it seemed possible to me, because it was too much to hope that…I mean, before—this—I had despaired of marrying for love…” Darcy’s expression softened. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I hope you can comprehend that. I don’t know how else to explain it!” “I understand. Please, be assured, I am not engaged. I have never been engaged,” Darcy spoke quickly, trying to reassure her. She nodded, her eyes bright and glistening with unshed tears. “Elizabeth,” he whispered gently, caressing her face. “I love you.”
“Oh! It is as I always knew it would be, Mr. Bennet! I believe we will soon have three daughters married!” “Three daughters? What can you mean?” “Do you not see? Jane and Mr. Bingley, Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, and Mary and Mr. Rochester!” “Mr. Rochester? She barely knows the man. I barely know the man!” “I saw the way he looked at her. Believe me, Mr. Bennet, I am quite knowledgeable about these matters!”
Jane Bennet could not stop smiling. She grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and spun her around the garden, laughing. “It is plain to see that Jane is in love,” Elizabeth teased. “But what about you, Mary?” She turned to her sisters and said solemnly, “A young lady cannot be too careful to guard her heart, you know.” “But—“ Jane looked shocked. Mary’s face broke into a wide grin. “I was only teasing, Jane.” Elizabeth pressed on: “Mary? I have not forgotten.” “I think Mr. Rochester is charming. But I am certainly not in love.” Mary picked a bright yellow flower and twirled it around in her fingers. “Lizzy, do not think that I did not notice you and Mr. Darcy yesterday,” she said mischievously. “What happened?” “Well…everything is as it was—better than it was—he is not engaged, of course—how I could have thought—” Elizabeth rambled, carried away with her thoughts. “Such happiness—he loves me!” “Mr. Darcy said he loves you?” Jane gasped. “That is wonderful! Surely he will propose soon, Lizzy!” Elizabeth let out a contented sigh. “I can only hope!”
6 December 18— Dear brother, Your adoring sister A smile broke out on Darcy’s face as he read of his sister’s enthusiasm. He could not help but agree with her sentiments. Christmas at Pemberley would be truly wonderful with Elizabeth at his side
The sisters walked together, their fiancés trailing a few feet behind. Mr. Bennet’s consent had been given the previous day, as well as his approval of Darcy’s plan to bring Elizabeth to Pemberley for the holidays. “Likewise, my happiness is complete because you are in good spirits, dear Jane.” Elizabeth laughed. “Extremely good spirits, I should say!” “Within a fortnight, I believe.” Elizabeth turned around and called out, “Mr. Darcy, when do we leave?” “Saturday next,” he replied, coming forward to offer his arm while Bingley likewise approached Jane. Elizabeth’s eyes lit up with anticipation. “So soon? That is barely a week away!” “Yes, Georgiana is quite anxious to meet you, and I am scarcely less anxious to be home.” Darcy smiled. “You will love it, Elizabeth.” “Such presumption, sir!” she teased. “I have no scruples in admitting that I am quite proud of my estate.” She laughed. “And rightfully so, I should imagine.” “Elizabeth,” he said, his expression turning more serious, “I would like you to address me by my Christian name.” “Fitzwilliam.” She drew out each syllable slowly, savouring the feel of his name on her lips for the first time. “How well that sounds.” “Indeed. It sounds much better when you say it.”
Over the next few days, what little preparations remained for their departure were concluded. The time passed in a flurry of activity and Elizabeth soon found herself being handed into the waiting carriage by her father while Darcy spoke with the driver. “There you are, Lizzy. Enjoy your visit. I daresay you will not spare a thought for your poor father who will miss you exceedingly,” Mr Bennet said impishly. Trying to keep a straight face, he went on to address the maid who was to accompany Elizabeth: “Rebecca, I trust you will keep Lizzy out of mischief; you know she is forever finding trouble of some sort.” The girl assented, smiling at his teasing while Darcy announced that everything was ready. The rest of the Bennets saw them off within a few minutes. The journey passed without much consequence. Elizabeth’s childlike excitement grew as they drew nearer, much to Darcy’s amusement. She chattered endlessly, asking about the sights of the Derbyshire countryside they travelled through—until they came in view of the estate. Then, her mind was so occupied with her surroundings that words failed her. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. Indeed, she thought, to be mistress of this place was something great. As soon as they alighted from the carriage Georgiana ran forward to greet her brother with no little enthusiasm. “Fitzwilliam!” she cried, embracing him fiercely. She seemed to forget for a moment that she had a guest and seemed embarrassed when she remembered Elizabeth. Elizabeth laughed, trying to put her at ease. “Miss Darcy, I presume?” She nodded shyly while Darcy said, “Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She has consented to be my wife.” “It is a great pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Darcy. I have heard much about you.” “And I about you. Welcome to Pemberley, Miss Bennet.
Before long, Christmas Eve was upon them. All of the household—especially Mrs Reynolds and Georgiana—had worked tirelessly over the last two weeks to prepare Pemberley to celebrate the holiday. Elizabeth endeavoured to assist them in any way she could but in the end was not allowed to do much more than advise Georgiana in choosing the best decorations. In accordance with family tradition, the Darcys planned to exchange gifts after dinner on Christmas Eve and attend church the next morning. Following the meal, Elizabeth went up to her room to retrieve her gifts, feeling strangely anxious that something was missing. “Rebecca!” she cried as she rushed in the door. “Where are the gifts? I cannot remember the last time I saw them! Are you sure you packed everything?” The young maid smiled and replied calmly, “Yes, Miss Lizzy, everything is right here, as you left it not three hours ago.” Elizabeth visibly relaxed and her face now wore a slightly embarrassed expression. “Ah...yes, I remember now, thank you Rebecca.” She took the packages and retreated back to the parlour where they were gathering. She entered to find Darcy awaiting her and was secretly relieved that Georgiana had not yet returned. Her fiancée greeted her by bestowing a kiss on her hand. “You look radiant tonight, my dear.” “Thank you.” She gave him an appraising glance. “I do believe you are in your best looks this evening, Fitzwilliam. Very handsome.” Elizabeth smirked as he blushed very becomingly and Georgiana came in. “Fitzwilliam, are you well? You look flushed,” his concerned sister said. He only coloured more deeply and it was all Elizabeth could do to restrain herself from laughing. Somehow she regained her composure before Darcy and she suggested that they begin exchanging gifts. Georgiana presented her gifts first, as she was the youngest and most excited. To Elizabeth she gave a pair of lambskin gloves and to her brother a new riding crop. “Why, thank you, Georgiana! These must be the softest gloves I’ve ever had. They are very nice.” Darcy added his thanks as well. Next was Elizabeth’s turn. She handed Georgiana a small satchel containing some of her lavender perfume. “Oh! This is wonderful. You make it yourself, do you not?” Elizabeth replied in the affirmative and presented Darcy with a book of poetry and handkerchief embroidered with his initials. Darcy was delighted. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I shall treasure it always. How thoughtful of you to remember my love of poetry,” he said teasingly. Her eyes twinkled merrily. “I could hardly forget such a thing,” she replied, remembering his poetic proposal. Smiling broadly, he gave Georgiana a lovely sage-coloured bonnet. “The very one! How did you know which bonnet I wanted?” she asked. “Do you not recall? You admired it, and the shopkeeper said it suited you very well—it was on your last shopping excursion, when we were lately in London,” he replied, amused. “Oh,” Georgiana said sheepishly. Then her face brightened and she added, “Go on, I can hardly wait to see what you have bought your fiancée.” Turning to Elizabeth she whispered, “I begged and begged but he would not show me! I am sure it is something wonderful.” Time seemed suspended while Darcy rose, seated himself on the settee next to Elizabeth, and offered her a small velvet box. With a sharp intake of breath she took it and held Darcy’s gaze for a loving moment before opening the box. Inside was an exquisite piece of jewellery—a gold heart-shaped locket. “Fitzwilliam, it is perfect. Thank you very much.” He took the locket and moved to fasten it around her neck. “I knew it would suit you perfectly.” As he fixed the clasp his hand touched her skin with the gentlest of caresses. “How did I know? It reminded me of what I love best about you, dearest Elizabeth—your heart of gold.” Part Two
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Part Three
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth interrupted hastily, before Mr. Collins really went on, “Sir, won’t you introduce your friend?”Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Oh. Yes. Miss Mary?”
Elizabeth curtsied politely but said nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Pemberley
I am anxiously awaiting your arrival, almost as much as I am hoping to meet Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I have quite enjoyed your letters describing her; she sounds absolutely delightful. Have you proposed yet? Truly, I hope she will be accompanying you to Pemberley. Mrs. Reynolds and I have been preparing all sorts of festivities for the Christmas season and I know it will be more enjoyable with Miss Elizabeth present.
Georgiana
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Oh, Lizzy, it gives me great joy to see you so happy.”
Jane grinned in response but then fell silent with a thoughtful look on her face. They continued on, enjoying the warmer temperature of the afternoon. “When do you leave for Pemberley?” she inquired.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
One year later
Elizabeth Darcy sat at her dressing table recalling fond memories of her first Christmas at Pemberley and all the events that followed in the next year.
They celebrated their marriage vows in a double ceremony with Jane and Mr Bingley about two months after her return to Longbourn. Right before the wedding, Mr Rochester proposed to Mary. They decided on a long engagement, which was just as well, because Mary had her hands full preparing Kitty—and then Lydia—to be out in society. That summer Kitty joined the Gardiners on a tour of Derbyshire and the lake country. They had a lovely trip and quite enjoyed their short stay at Pemberley, during which Kitty and Georgiana became dear friends. The Darcys also received frequent visits from Mr Bennet, whose prudent advice they were always thankful for.
Elizabeth’s musings ceased as soon as she sensed her husband’s presence. She turned to see him standing behind her and greeted him with a kiss. “I was just reflecting on the past year. We have been so blessed, Fitzwilliam. But...I believe another blessing may be on its way soon.”
His eyes lit up. “Truly, Elizabeth? You are with child?”
“It does appear so.” She smiled brilliantly, a soft glow about her.
“My love, I have never seen you as beautiful as you are now.”
Many thanks to all those who read and commented on “A More Prudent Parent,” and to Julia, Amy, and Emily for their beta help.
The End