Chapter 2

When the time came to retire that evening, Jane followed closely upon her sister’s heels as she went upstairs.

“Mr Darcy looked at you a good deal this evening,” she commented, idly gazing from the window.

“I hardly know why!” Elizabeth replied. She examined herself critically in the glass in one corner of the room. “There are no smudges on my nose or unruly wisps of hair for him to criticise. Perhaps it is this dress; it is certainly not as fashionable as those he must be accustomed to seeing in town.”

“Why must he be looking to criticise?” Jane replied mildly. “I thought you looked uncommonly well this evening. That colour is very becoming on you.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Thank you,” she said with a pretty curtsey. “But I cannot believe, my delightfully partial sister, that you and the severe Mr Darcy can possibly be of the same opinion on this!”

“Partial I may be, but I can assure you, Mr Darcy’s interest was not critical.”

“Oh, Jane,” Elizabeth admonished her affectionately, shaking her head. “I respect your abilities immensely, but if you are suggesting he admires me, I think they must have misled you on this occasion! Mr Darcy has made his disdain for me perfectly clear.”

Jane did not press her point, but the following day, she was well enough to dine with the rest of the household, and she watched the pair with interest. Mr Darcy’s affections were unchanged; unquestionably reaching for Elizabeth but constantly restrained and fought against. At first, Jane thought she would see no signs of attraction from her sister, but as the conversation moved to their planned departure the following day, she began to see a change.

“I am sure you will be pleased to return home,” Miss Bingley said with apparent kindness. “Our quiet company must differ from the liveliness of your own family.”

“There is a great deal to be said for a change of society on occasion,” Elizabeth replied, “even so close to home. It brings new experiences, new memories. I am indebted to you—I have learnt a great deal during my stay,” she finished, feigning a sweet smile.

Miss Bingley acquiesced politely without returning the sentiment.

“I am sure you cannot want for liveliness in any circumstance,” Mr Bingley observed.

“By which you mean I am rather too lively,” Elizabeth returned promptly. Mr Bingley protested, but Mr Darcy’s admiration seemed to advance rather than abate at her words.

“Your absence will be felt after you depart,” Mr Darcy concurred soberly. Elizabeth turned sharply towards him.

“You need not tell me whether it will be felt more as a lack or a relief,” she replied with playful archness, “I shall appeal to my own vanity to settle the question to my satisfaction, and leave you to do the same for yourself.”

“You mean you do not intend to argue the point? I was rather looking forward to the debate,” Mr Darcy replied. He turned his gaze to his plate, but Jane could see his feelings continue to betray him.

She caught her sister’s eye, and knew Elizabeth understood her, for she frowned fiercely. Jane could not be deceived, however; Elizabeth was perhaps not attracted, but certainly interested. Jane fought back a laugh that her sister’s interest revealed itself in the form of a bramble, scrambling in a prickly fashion in the direction of the gentleman. It did not creep far across the space towards them, but advanced steadily as Elizabeth cast frequent surreptitious glances at Mr Darcy for the rest of the evening. She was far from in love with Mr Darcy, but Jane suspected—or hoped—that for the first time, her sister’s mind and her heart had been opened to the possibility that a man might admire her—and that she might be capable of admiring him in return.

“It is impossible,” Elizabeth said that evening as they retired, unknowingly confirming her sister’s thoughts in the very act of attempting to refute them.

“Very well,” Jane replied, continuing to fold a dress. Contradiction only strengthened Elizabeth’s conviction; acceptance disconcerted her.

“I do not see how he could have any interest in me,” Elizabeth added a few minutes later.

“You have already declared it impossible.”

“I observed him closely all evening. He sought only to contradict and contest everything I said.”

Jane could not resist teasing her sister a little. “Yes, I agree. There was little opportunity for any other conversation, the two of you were so intent on disagreeing with one another.”

Elizabeth made a discontented noise and turned the subject. “I am glad you have recovered from your illness. It is for the best that we are to return home tomorrow.”

Mr Bingley was the only one to protest their departure the following day. Now that Jane had recovered, she felt it would not do to tempt the whispers of society by prolonging the visit too far. Mr Bingley had, however, extracted a promise from her to remain until the afternoon. Feeling more herself than she had for some days, and finding Elizabeth slept longer than usual, Jane decided to walk in the gardens before breakfast.

She had not gone far when she encountered Mr Darcy, striding alone along the paths, deep in thought. His brow was furrowed, even pained, and Jane almost fancied she could see the branches of his feelings battling against the restraint he held them under. Rapidly, she formed a resolution. Whatever might come of her speaking, his continuing in this manner would only cause himself harm, and perhaps also others around him. She would not be responsible for seeing Elizabeth hurt when she could put in a word to prevent it.

“Good morning,” she greeted him. “Are you finishing a walk? I would be glad of your company if you are not yet returning to the house.”

Mr Darcy looked surprised—as well he might, for she had never previously sought his company—but turned politely and fell into step with her.

Now that she had the opportunity, Jane was not quite sure how to begin, and the silence hung heavily between them for some time.

“How do you find Hertfordshire?” she eventually asked.

“It has its attractions,” he replied blandly. Jane smiled to herself, suspecting he was not speaking of the landscape.

“Do you think you will stay much longer?”

“I have been invited to remain until after your wedding.”

“I am glad of it. Mr Bingley values your friendship.”

“And I, his.”

“He tells me he shares everything with you.” Jane stopped and lifted her chin to look at the gentleman, who had arrested his steps with hers. “In particular, I gather he has told you about my gift.”

Mr Darcy nodded shortly, and resumed walking, Jane following suit. “Yes, he told me. I understood you had agreed that he might do so?”

“Yes,” Jane affirmed, prompting another nod of acknowledgement.

“It is a rare gift you have.”

“You do not doubt the truth of it?”

“No. Bingley’s description of what he saw is similar to other stories I have heard. I do not believe he imagined it.”

“You have heard of others with similar abilities before?” Jane could not repress a note of excitement at discovering there could be others with this singular power.

Mr Darcy nodded. “Yes—my mother could see affection, and my sister can too. It proved very valuable to her recently in avoiding the advances of an unscrupulous fortune hunter.”

“I am glad it served her so well.”

“Thank you. I too am grateful for it. I wish you every happiness in your marriage.”

His manner was not warm, but it was forthright and she believed he meant it. Having obtained this concession, Jane’s feelings for her sister and her confidence in what she had seen prompted her to venture forward. She wished to give a hint that he could do himself a great deal of harm if he continued to resist his natural inclinations.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “I believe we shall be very happy. I have seen so many matches made from the first tentative growth of affection through to the beauty of mutual regard and a successful suit, but to have that joy for myself is a blessing I could hardly have dared hope for.”

Mr Darcy nodded abstractedly, and Jane wondered how she might broach the question of his own feelings when she hardly knew him. She was pondering this when he made a strangled sound. Glancing up, she saw his eyes widen before they darted away from her.

“Are you quite well?” she asked.

“You can—can you—?” he stuttered. Jane waited patiently as he collected his thoughts. “Miss Bennet, perhaps I presume too much when we are so newly acquainted,” he said at last, “and I hesitate to ask, but?—”

He stopped again, staring at her beseechingly.

“You wish to know what I can see of your own affections,” Jane finished kindly, prompting a grateful glance. She sighed and wrung her hands before she continued.

“I am glad that you ask, but I do not wish to presume. We do not know one another well, but perhaps, being a brother yourself, you will understand that I speak in the interests of my own beloved sister.”

Mr Darcy’s face paled, but he gave no other sign of responding. Jane took this to mean she should continue.

“Your feelings—and your restraint of them—are painfully clear to me, and my sister’s happiness is as dear to me as my own. Clearly you have some reservation that is preventing you from allowing yourself to admire her.”

Mr Darcy looked away, and Jane berated herself for daring to approach the subject, but when he turned back, his features and voice appeared unmoved.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“New growth—healthy growth, which might in time become a strong and sturdy love, but which is constantly being denied and withdrawn.”

“Ah.” He rubbed his neck, unable to meet her gaze.

“I have seen something much like this happen before,” Jane offered.

“Oh?”

“It was not a happy conclusion; a good, stout love, too much restrained, was so twisted as to become inward-turning bitterness. The gentleman has never completely recovered; he lives an irreproachable but lonely life, and I suspect will never be truly happy again. He is unmarried, and the lady is the wife of another man.”

Mr Darcy contemplated this. “Do you not think it is correct to be cautious in one’s interest, reserving judgment until one is sure of the suitability of a partner?”

“Certainly. But one may reserve judgment without denying one’s own feelings. I have seen love grow and bloom many, many times, but I have also seen it make a very promising beginning, only to wither away. This is natural enough; affection may exist on one side but be met by indifference on the other, or circumstances might prevent mutual interest and admiration from ever reaching their fruition. This is not what I observe in you. Restraint and reserve have their place, but resistance and control will only serve to hurt your heart in the end.

“There may be many reasons that affection does not blossom, or that you may not be free to admire my sister, but pruning an unwanted plant will often only cause more stems to spring up as it strives to survive. In this case, it might be better to leave it untended, and allow it to wither naturally. Or, perhaps,” she added firmly, “to consider whether it is necessary to remove the plant at all, and whether the objections that cause you to restrain your feelings are truly the obstacle you believe them to be.”

Mr Darcy made no reply, but turned to look at the house. Jane could see the tell-tale stems grow back towards it as his eyes roved over the windows. “Lizzy could not love a man who did not respect her,” she added quietly.

“I—” He turned his head to meet her eyes. She did not blink until he looked away. Instead of retracting abruptly, the stems slowly eased back towards him, a single leaf occasionally stretching back as if in regret. His posture was stiff but his voice was soft when he replied. “I shall think about what you have told me.”

“Thank you.”

They walked for another quarter of an hour, speaking little. Mr Darcy seemed preoccupied, but not uncomfortable with her company. When they returned to the house, they parted cordially.

At breakfast, Jane did her best not to observe either Mr Darcy or her sister too closely. Not until she and Elizabeth were preparing to depart did she allow herself to notice anything. Mr Darcy’s feelings still grew much as they had before. They did not extend so far, but neither did they retract so firmly. Jane was content. He would fall in love with Elizabeth or he would not; she had done what she could. Elizabeth’s feelings still appeared as a confused tangle of bramble, and her peculiar air at parting from Mr Darcy betrayed that she had not forgotten Jane’s hints.

As they settled into the carriage, however, Elizabeth sighed with relief.

“I am sorry to speak so ill of Mr Bingley’s hospitality, but I do not think I have ever been more pleased to leave a place than I am to escape Netherfield!”

Jane could not precisely agree with this, but she felt how trying the visit must have been to her sister, and said so.

“Mr Bingley is very amiable, but I cannot say the same for his sisters. And as for Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth turned with sudden curiosity to Jane. “I saw you walking in the garden with him this morning. I hope he was not being disagreeable.”

“Of course not. He congratulated me on my engagement.”

“As he ought to have done,” Elizabeth replied.

“He does not think me mercenary, Lizzy,” Jane replied, knowing where her sister’s thoughts tended.

“How can you be so certain? He looks down upon the whole of Meryton, I am sure of it.”

“He knows we have proof of our regard—Mr Bingley told him,” Jane replied simply. The rose still gleamed before her, and she reached out as if to lightly touch a petal.

“Told him?” Elizabeth echoed. “Jane!”

Jane, amused at her sister’s astonishment, told her of her conversation in the garden, as far as it pertained to herself and to Mr Darcy knowing others with similar powers. Elizabeth gaped and gasped, and at the end of the tale, burst out in exclamation.

“How extraordinary that he should have encountered others with your insight!”

“And do you acquit him of distrusting me?”

“I suppose I must,” Elizabeth agreed reluctantly, “although I still think him immensely disagreeable.”

“If you insist,” Jane soothed her, “although I think you are curious about him. It is only natural that you would be. Perhaps I have told you more than I ought.”

“I am glad you did! It allowed me to prepare to defend myself. He is such a curious man—why, we spent a full half an hour in the library together after breakfast, and he was as talkative as I have ever seen him. He kept asking me questions! I am sure he sought to prove to himself that I was beneath his notice.”

Jane thought back to their conversation in the garden. “Perhaps, rather than this being evidence of his disdain, he sought to know and understand you better.”

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said emphatically, “he sought only to prove his own superiority. Many of his questions were about our connexions.”

“I have had similar conversations with Mr Bingley,” Jane replied serenely.

“I wish I had your ability to think so well of everyone,” Elizabeth replied pettishly, but laughed immediately. “Look, there is the church spire. We shall be home soon. I am sure Mama is waiting on the step with a list of warehouses ready to accost you.”

Mrs Bennet was waiting for them, and although she did not present a list of warehouses as soon as they alighted, greetings had barely been exchanged before she was congratulating Jane on her success and planning a dinner party for the following Monday. Jane submitted to it with good humour and did not mind that Elizabeth smiled slyly at her and slipped quietly away. Her sister did not like having her ideas disturbed; she would leave Elizabeth to think for herself on whether Mr Darcy was quite so disdainful as she supposed.