Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

D arcy was annoyed. He had meandered about the shrubbery for half an hour, hoping to casually meet with Elizabeth on one of the garden paths, only to discover Miss Bingley lying in wait for him. Once she had attached herself to his arm, he could not get free.

“I hope you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when your alliance takes place,” she said snidely, beginning, once again, to bring his attention to the failings of Elizabeth’s family. He almost hated Miss Bingley, in that moment, for reminding him. But then, foolishly, she moved on to criticising Elizabeth for a ‘little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence’ she possessed, and he immediately calmed.

What Elizabeth possesses is both spirit and sweetness—two traits you utterly lack. “Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?” he asked, willing enough that she should continue speaking of Elizabeth, so that he could continue on thinking of her, barely noticing the other woman’s sarcasm.

“As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”

“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.”

At that moment, Mrs Hurst and Elizabeth herself appeared from another walk. Miss Bingley stumbled in her words, for she had been caught delivering insults. Rudely, Mrs Hurst dropped Elizabeth’s arm and clutched at his, leaving her to trail behind them—for the path narrowed and would not admit four.

He could tell Elizabeth meant to escape—and it was wholly unfair of her to bolt without taking him along, too. In one smooth motion Darcy twisted, lifting Mrs Hurst’s hand from his arm to place it upon her sister’s.

“The two of you are most charmingly grouped, and will appear to picturesque advantage on the path before us. Do allow us to follow and admire you.” With that, he stepped back to Elizabeth and took her arm. She blinked up at him in obvious surprise.

Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley gawped, but Darcy merely raised a brow to remind them of correct behaviour. There was nothing for it except to resume their stroll. He allowed some distance to grow between them before he spoke.

“How does your sister fare this morning?”

“She is much recovered. I believe she might join us in the drawing room after dinner tonight, if she continues well. ”

“I am happy to hear it.” It was true. He knew Elizabeth adored her sister; it was a possible wrinkle in his plans, for he must get Bingley away from her as soon as he could. Nevertheless, he would never wish Elizabeth grief of any nature. In time, once Bingley had got over his infatuation, perhaps he could bring Miss Bennet to join them at Pemberley. Mr Spencer, his good friend and neighbour, or Mr Tilney, his vicar—either of them might be a good match for her. He could add something to her settlement to make it a spectacular match for either man. Yes, I shall do it , he decided handsomely. It would please Elizabeth.

“Her recovery means we ought probably to return to Longbourn soon.”

This was less than desirable. “Surely it would not hurt to remain a few more days.”

“Jane is worried that it will appear forward of her to remain,” she confided. “As if, completely healed, she is using an excuse of illness to continue her acquaintance with Mr Bingley.”

Ah! I knew her feelings for him were not so strong as his for her! Aloud he said, “Naturally, Miss Bennet would not behave in such a manner.”

“Of course. But she would not have anyone think she would.”

“She must consider her own health above silly conjecture about appearances.”

“That is what I have told her. My mother and sisters have also been unwell, and I would not want her to risk coming down with another illness while weakened from the first one.”

“Neither would I want you to be exposed to whatever ailment possesses Longbourn,” he said, and, temporarily out of sight of the Bingley sisters and seeing an opportunity for true escape, veered from the path to one heading in a divergent direction.

Elizabeth shrugged, not appearing to notice their change in course. “I am absurdly healthy, and seldom afflicted.”

“There is always a first time. You must not be careless.”

She glanced his way. “Would you be an overprotective husband, do you think? I do like my solitary walks.”

His good mood swelled with her question. “At Pemberley, I am certain there are many safe paths that would satisfy your need for nature and solitude. Town is another thing entirely.”

“I hope you do not consider me so wild that I would ever go about unaccompanied in London. I have visited often, and believe me, I am well aware of the dangers. My uncle keeps us very well chaperoned when we visit museums and theatres. Although his home is in Grace?—”

He did not want to speak—or think—of her uncle in Cheapside. “I consider you a perfect lady,” he interrupted in tones of reassurance. “You will, at least during the Season, live a less quiet life once you are my wife. A certain amount of entertaining would be expected, especially in town. My aunt and uncle require some of my time—they entertain frequently.”

“I believe everyone in England is aware of the Matlock entertainments,” she murmured.

“Yes, I suppose so,” he agreed. “I am expected to support the earl’s political efforts, as well as his balls and parties, and my wife would be as well. ”

“ If I agree to become your wife,” she said, but her smile was sweet as she said it.

“As one might expect, I find it difficult to consider the option that you will refuse me—but simply because I prefer to imagine all the ways in which I might see to your future happiness instead.”

Her expression turned grave. “I only wish to be certain that we would, indeed, be happy together.”

His heart lifted at the purity of her motives. “I do not blame you for hesitating, my darling. Please forgive any expression of over-eagerness for my suit.”

She squeezed his bicep where her hand rested, and he had to resist the urge to take her into his arms. To distract himself from temptation, he spoke of Georgiana. “My sister currently resides with Lord and Lady Matlock. It is not ideal. They are excessively formal, and she has recently suffered a disappointment.”

“A disappointment?” Elizabeth questioned, understandably surprised. “Excuse me. I thought I heard Miss Bingley say she is but sixteen.”

“She is.” Darcy picked his words carefully, deciding what to say that would not show his sister in the worst possible light. “Last summer, I allowed her to set up a household in Ramsgate—she was most anxious for a seaside retreat. Georgiana looks much older than her years, and although she ought to have known better, her companion did not restrict her society to those entertainments suitable to a girl of but fifteen.”

“It can be difficult to govern what, exactly, is suitable during those years between childhood and full womanhood,” Elizabeth murmured.

Too late, he remembered Miss Lydia Bennet, also fifteen, was allowed to freely move in society. Well, it was best she understood his feelings on the matter.

“My opinion is that, unless it is a family party, nearly every entertainment which places men and women together in any situation, especially those where attachments might form, is not appropriate for one so young.”

“I agree unreservedly,” she said, and he was comforted.

Unable to help himself, he took her hand in his, clasping it tightly, and hating the gloves that separated their now enjoined fingers. “A man who was much too old for her and, undoubtedly, only interested in her fortune, was allowed to press his suit.” He would not disclose that it was Wickham, nor how close Georgiana had come to eloping with the churl—he could not allow his soon-to-be wife to think as poorly of her character as this would surely reveal. Neither did he mention anything else of his sister’s scheming companion, Mrs Younge, in league with Wickham, for fear Elizabeth think less of his own diligence. “As soon as I caught wind of the matter, I brought her away. But it has been a great sorrow to her.”

Elizabeth nodded, her expression instantly compassionate. “How awful, for her first love to be someone so odious. It would be unusual, indeed, if she was able to perceive objectionable motives in a lover at her age. In two or three years, it is to be hoped, such men would appear more obvious.”

“Exactly. I wish to bring her to Pemberley, which she has always loved. Lady Matlock feels she requires a feminine influence, and yet—” He hesitated, not wanting to criticise his aunt. Still, if Elizabeth was going to marry into the family, she ought to understand.

“And yet?”

“My aunt is hardly someone in whom a young girl might like to confide. She is excessively fond of maxims and correctness, and very strict.”

“Strictness might not be a bad thing, at this point,” Elizabeth offered.

Darcy shook his head, not able to articulate the vast combination of decorum, control, and opinion that was Lady Matlock. “I have two aunts,” he said, trying to explain. “One governs by insatiable curiosity and a desire to interfere in the lives of all who come near, almost a caricature of Lady Matlock—who simply knows best . She is seldom wrong, and yet, I find myself ignoring her almost as often as I ignore the other. It is difficult to always be with someone who is so inexorably right .”

“Beating one over the head with her truths, so to speak.”

“Exactly,” he said, pleased with her understanding.

“I have often envied, at least a little, those who can see only black and white, good and bad. It would be so much easier to assign people a character and force them to stay within it. Sometimes it is simple—in a case such as your former friend Mr Wickham, for instance. He has proved, time and again, that he will always behave selfishly and callously, without regard to the feelings of others. Most, however, are a mixture and will by turns disappoint us and exceed our expectations. It would be a shame to miss decency in favour of deficits, and yet we cannot always overlook the flaws of others, can we? ”

She was wise beyond her years. “Most of us must cope with the good and the bad in those we love, and spend our lives trying constantly to encourage them to the best possible outcomes,” he agreed. “My aunts do not share in this struggle, although they are so different from each other.”

“Hence your strong desire to remove Miss Darcy from extended family and create a new one of your own.”

He stopped in the middle of the path and turned to her, taking her other hand in his. “I did not ask you to marry me, to commit your entire life to me, solely that my sister might have a better one. In four or five years, heaven willing, she will be set upon a life of her own, and we will have the rest of our lives together. I am only resolved to act in that manner which will, in my opinion, constitute my happiness and yours. I can be a good husband to you, and make your life a better one than it would have been without me. Had I not considered that to be the case, I never would have asked. It is true, I do not feel that I can remain at Netherfield for months in a protracted betrothal. I would much rather marry as soon as possible. But please tell me that you believe this much: my feelings for you have nothing to do with my sister.”

He wished to kiss her, to show her his passion, his tenderness, his love and adoration. It was frustrating, watching the conflicting emotions upon her expressive mien as she bit the lip he wanted to pull into his own.

She gave him a shaky smile. “It is difficult, you see. I had assigned you a role, a part to play, and it turns out, an entirely wrong one. Forgive me while I work to resketch your character. I do not think it will take the time I originally believed to amend my drawing, however. ”

He smiled down upon her. “You will remain at Netherfield whilst you work on this new depiction?”

She appeared to hesitate. “I can stay for as long as Jane’s health requires,” she hedged.

It was not quite the answer he had hoped for. He dropped one of her hands in order to tuck her arm in his and resume their stroll; but then, in a surprising motion, she wrapped her arm around his and leant her head upon his shoulder. Despite his romantic prowess—he was certainly no ignorant young lad—strolling slowly together in this manner was the most intimate act he had ever experienced.

Darcy said not another word for the rest of their time alone together, terrified lest he spoil this new closeness. He somehow knew, later, when she softly sighed, that it was her conscience reminding her that she ought to return to her sister; he turned them back towards Netherfield, completely uncaring about who might spot them in such a demonstrative proximity.

Regrettably, once they were nearly in sight of the house, she straightened. Silently, he took her arm as if they were only acquaintances—mere and barely friends. As if she would remain forever Miss Elizabeth of Longbourn and he, Mr Darcy of Pemberley—the roles their very lives wanted to assign and keep them fixed within.

He hated it, and prayed for a different fate.