Chapter 12

Darcy’s Bedchamber

Midnight

Darcy nestled down into his own familiar bed, the warmed sheets around him like old friends with spots of delicious heat where the bricks and warming pans had lain. Across the room, his fire devoured the twisted oak root log he had added just before going to bed. His room was filled with light and warmth and comfort.

Darcy wished it would soothe his mind.

Dinner had been an awkward, uncomfortable affair. Given their many guests, the table had been full. He had presided, of course, with Georgiana sitting next to him, and Mrs. Annesley on the other side, while the Fitzwilliams sat near the foot of the table, and the Hursts across from Georgiana. Conversation had not flourished. What little there was had been desultory and stilted. Darcy, conscious of his duties as host, had tried to introduce pleasant topics, but his efforts found few takers. Georgiana had spoken not at all, while Mrs. Annesley had murmured gently and encouragingly to young Miss Darcy. Anne had been pensive and withdrawn, and Richard taciturn. Darcy’s greatest help had come from an unexpected quarter; Hurst had spoken easily of general topics, including shooting and music and the latest entertainments in London. Louisa had been subdued, but attempted nobly to rise to the occasion and assist her husband and their host, and Darcy was grateful.

Bingley had been unusually reticent. Darcy was sadly unsurprised, considering his friend’s dejection. He now knew that Bingley had truly loved Jane Bennet in a way he had never cared for any other woman. Worse, Miss Bennet had genuinely cared for Bingley, and now guilt gnawed at Darcy for his own part in separating them. He had considered himself a good judge of human nature, but his judgment had been fatally flawed in the case of Jane Bennet. He truly should have known better. He himself was not a demonstrative person; why had he imagined that he understood the heart and mind of the serene eldest daughter of Longbourn?

Darcy hoped that the new Mrs. Russell’s battered heart rested easily now in the tender care of her new husband. There was little he could do to assuage Bingley’s grief, but he was determined to do what he could.

This brought his thoughts, perhaps inevitably, to the sisters of the two principal players in this drama. Miss Bingley and Miss Bennet had been notable at table only by their absence; both young ladies had opted to have dinner in their rooms, and it made Darcy uneasy. Caroline, he knew well, was having a fine fit in the privacy of her own chamber, and he pitied her maid who must bear the brunt of it. But he did not know how Miss Bennet was handling recent events, and that unsettled him.

Darcy hoped that Miss Bennet knew that she had done nothing wrong in defending her slandered sister. As startled as he had been by her pointed remarks, he admired her for her courage and wit. Indeed, he had always admired her devotion to her family.

His mind drifted back to her visit to Netherfield the previous year. She had walked into the drawing room at Netherfield and promptly asked to see Jane, disregarding her rather disarrayed appearance – mud on her boots and hem, her hair mussed, her cheeks still pink from the brisk exercise and her brown eyes sparkling. Three miles she had walked in order to come tend to her sick sister, and Darcy had thought then he had never seen a woman more beautiful. It had only made the contrast of Bingley’s sisters’ catty comments sharper. Miss Elizabeth did not need fine jewels and perfectly coiffured hair and an impeccable frock to be surpassingly lovely.

No, he would not allow Bingley’s sisters to drive Miss Bennet from Pemberley. She was a welcome guest here. It would be awkward and uncomfortable, no doubt, and Bingley would be grieving and in no condition to rein Miss Bingley in, but Darcy was determined. Caroline Bingley would leave Pemberley before Elizabeth Bennet would.

/

Louisa’s Bedchamber

Eleven O'clock

Pemberley

Louisa Hurst held out her hands toward the roaring flames, relishing the heat. It was a cool night, and the warmth was delightful and far more welcome than her sister’s whining.

“I simply cannot believe,” Caroline proclaimed dramatically, “that Mr. Darcy, who has been our friend for so long, would ask us to leave when it was Eliza Bennet who started the whole argument. It is unfair and ridiculous, especially since Jane’s marriage to another man proves what we said all along, that she was pursuing Charles merely for his fortune!”

Louisa considered arguing this and then decided against it. Caroline had never been interested in logic or willing to look at situations from an alternate point of view.

“Caroline,” she said instead, “if you cause us to be driven away from Pemberley, I will never forgive you. More than that, Hurst will never forgive you and will no longer allow you to live with us.”

This caused her sister, who had been pacing up and down the room in outrage, to spin around and stare in wonder.

“What are you speaking of, Louisa?” she hissed. “Are you saying this is my fault somehow?”

Louisa Hurst did, indeed, consider it Caroline’s fault. She had not yearned for Jane Bennet as a sister by marriage and had done her best to convince Charles to stay away from the eldest daughter of Longbourn. But there had been no need to cut Jane so severely the previous January, especially with Charles already safely in Scarborough. And then, for Caroline to openly denigrate Jane in the presence of her sister? Elizabeth Bennet would never take such an attack lightly. She was stubborn, indifferent to the disapproval of her betters, along with being demonstrably pretty and clever. Indeed, Mr. Darcy himself had admired her fine eyes. Caroline was a fool at times; what did Caroline think would happen when she insulted Jane? Miss Bennet had sprung to her sister’s defense, and a great deal of information had been shared that Louisa wished had remained tidily hidden.

“It is not your fault,” she lied, “but the gentlemen are very upset, Caroline. We simply must not pour oil on the flames right now. Please promise me that you will treat Miss Bennet with courtesy.”

“You truly expect me to…”

“I do,” Louisa said and rose to her feet and glared into Caroline’s eyes. “Sister, you are not taking this seriously enough. We will be sent away if you provoke another altercation with Miss Bennet. Do you understand how dreadfully that would reflect our family? What doors will be closed to us in Society if Mr. Darcy chooses to no longer be associated with us?”

Caroline looked shocked and then shook her head. “He would not actually do that. Charles is his closest friend.”

Louisa felt her eyes bug out in frustration. “Caroline, do you actually think that Charles will supplicate Darcy on our behalf when we separated him from Jane Bennet? And do not even bother saying that she did not truly love him. Perhaps she did not, but it matters not. What does matter is that Charles blames us for the separation. He might well, in a fit of pique, ask Darcy to cut us!”

Caroline blanched in the wavering light of the candles, and her eyes were wide with shock. “Sister...”

“No!” Louisa interrupted, “I have no wish to discuss this more. We are both tired, and all I want is my bed. Please come by in the morning, and we will go down for breakfast together.”

To her relief and, yes, surprise, Caroline nodded, apparently cowed, and made her slow way out of the room. Louisa blew out a relieved breath and hastily walked to her bed.

/

Pemberley

Early the Next Morning

Elizabeth stepped out of her bedchamber on quiet feet and hurriedly proceeded to the main stairwell. She breathed a little easier when she began descending the stairs and relaxed further when she attained the main floor and commenced walking down the wide hall toward what, Sally had told her, was the breakfast room.

It was as yet dark outside, with just a hint of dawn tinting the front windows pink. She had slept poorly, plagued by unquiet dreams, and awoken when a maid had crept into the room to light the fire.

She still did not regret her decision to defend her dear Jane, but the upcoming day was bound to be awkward, and she did not look forward to it at all. She did not particularly like Mr. Darcy, but she did like his sister and cousins, and in any case, the gentleman was not at fault in this situation. It was hard on the Darcys that there was such dissension in the house party, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Sally had told her that food would be available from an early hour, and she had decided to break her fast and perhaps go out for a brisk walk as soon as it was sufficiently bright outside.

The smell of well-cooked food wafted out of an open door, and she smiled in triumph at having attained her goal. Given the incredible size of Pemberley, finding breakfast was no mean feat.

She stepped into the room and came to a sudden, horrified stop. The room was well lit with candles and the flames of a fire, and reflected in the light was the figure of Fitzwilliam Darcy, who was even now pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He turned at her entrance and looked as startled as she did. Elizabeth was aware of a craven desire to retreat, but she forced herself to curtsey. “Mr. Darcy, good morning.”

Darcy bowed. “Good morning, Miss Bennet.”

Silence fell for a moment, and Elizabeth said, “I do not mean to intrude…”

“No, no, of course not. You are my guest. Please feel free to fill a plate. Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” she said, as she made her way to the buffet and began filling her plate with eggs, ham, and muffins.

Darcy was still standing when she finished, and she walked over to take a seat near, but not too near the fire, whereupon the gentleman set a cup of coffee beside her, and made his deliberate way to his own seat across the table.

Elizabeth took a sip of the fresh, hot liquid and reminded herself that her courage always rose at every attempt to intimidate her.

“Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes?”

“I do not apologize for defending my sister Jane,” she said resolutely, “but I do regret causing such an uncomfortable situation here at Pemberley. I am well aware that what was intended to be a pleasant house party is now likely to be fraught with difficulty.”

Mr. Darcy gazed back at her, a slight expression of surprise on his face, and said, “Miss Bennet, I do beg you not to concern yourself. I am well aware of your love for your elder sister, and I admire it. Given Miss Bingley’s accusatory remarks, you had no choice in defending your sister’s honor. I assure you that I do not blame you in the least for the situation.”

Elizabeth stared at her host in genuine amazement. For the usually haughty man to be so very gracious was astonishing indeed.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she replied and took a bite of muffin, which was excellent.

For a few minutes, all was silent as the gentleman and lady munched their ham and muffins, and drank their coffee, and then Darcy said, “Miss Bennet, I feel the need to make an apology of my own.”

She lifted her eyes. “An apology?”

“Yes,” Darcy said and blew out a breath. “The truth of the matter is that I also encouraged Bingley to stay in London. More than that, I encouraged him to abandon your sister. I had far too much confidence in my own ability to understand the hearts of others. I saw the serenity in your sister’s countenance and wrongly concluded that her heart was not at all touched. Given that I am also a quiet man who does not show emotion well, it was arrogant of me to assume that I knew what your sister truly thought about my friend. I regret my interference and offer my sincere apology.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, sighed, and said, “You are not the only one who made such errors, Mr. Darcy. I thought Mr. Wickham the very best of men, and he was a louse of the worst order. But regarding Jane, it is true that she is quiet, composed, and gentle, and disinclined to show her emotions publicly. In any case, while her heart was broken by Mr. Bingley’s departure, she is very happy now with Mr. Russell.”

“I am glad,” Darcy replied with a smile. This had the unconscious effect of making him even more handsome than usual, and Elizabeth was startled to feel a sudden flip in her stomach.

The two returned to their meal, and Elizabeth was taking a last sip of coffee when another early riser entered the room.

“Mr. Darcy,” Caroline Bingley trilled. “I suppose I ought to have expected to see you here. You have always been an early bird.”

Darcy stood up at his guest’s entrance and said, “Indeed, as is Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth watched Miss Bingley’s eyes widen in dismay and turn to meet her gaze. For a moment, the two ladies glared at each other, and then Elizabeth’s natural sense of humor asserted itself. She rose gracefully and said, “Miss Bingley, good morning.”

“Good morning,” Caroline Bingley replied through stiff lips.

“I know that the conversation yesterday was awkward and difficult,” Elizabeth persevered, “but I hope we can put it behind us and enjoy one another’s company in the next days?”

Miss Bingley’s nostrils flared like that of a particularly annoyed bull, but she managed a tight nod. “Of course, Miss Bennet.”

“Excellent,” Elizabeth replied cheerfully and turned to her host. “Mr. Darcy, I was hoping, perhaps, to take a walk once the sun is higher in the sky. Is there a particular path I might take?”

“There are a number of paths,” Darcy said, “and some of them are long and winding. May I have the honor of walking with you this morning and pointing out the best of the trails so that you do not get lost?”

Elizabeth heard a gasp from her left and turned her gaze on Miss Bingley, whose face was now flushed, and her expression rigid with outrage.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she said with a smile. “I would enjoy that. Thank you.”