Chapter 28

28

E lizabeth was finding it hard to forget what had happened — except through her music. Only when at the instrument, pouring out the melodies that thrummed through her mind, could she lose herself in the moment.

At other times, whether walking in the Great Park with Charlotte and her aunt, or perusing artefacts in the museum, she found herself constantly distracted, her ire rising at the memory that Mr. Darcy had written to his aunt without asking her — or even saying in conversation that he had done so.

At night, she hugged her pillow and asked herself why she was so disquieted about it. She would remember what had happened after their meeting with Papa, and that Uncle had sat down with Papa to ensure he wrote to Lady Matlock and did not ignore the necessity of a prompt reply.

Uncle had chuckled after Papa had departed with the letter ready to send as soon as he reached Meryton. "I was able to ensure your father wrote with at least a modicum of politeness, Lizzy. I did not wish you to burn all your boats in that direction."

Several days later, her aunt took her aside. "Lizzy, I think we need to talk."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I do not see there is anything I can do now. What's done is done."

"That is true. But it means you must come to terms with it, and that you have not done. I mean to find out why." She took Elizabeth's arm. "Come to my chambers, my dear. Charlotte is writing her letters, so you have no excuse, and no means of escaping this conversation."

Elizabeth did not mind, not really. But she did not want her aunt to know why she was still so disturbed about what had happened. Although — perhaps it would help.

Aunt had a cosy little room off her bedchamber with a small sofa, bookcase, and a roaring fire. The teapot on the tray was emitting a tendril of steam from the spout, and tasty-looking pastries sat on a dainty plate.

The sofa was quite small, so Elizabeth had to sit close to her aunt and was therefore quite unable to escape her scrutiny. She took a deep breath; she did not wish to lose her composure.

Her aunt's hand was warm over hers. "You like Mr. Darcy, do you not?"

Elizabeth gasped and pulled her hand away, but her aunt tugged her back down when she tried to jump to her feet.

"You must face facts, my dearest niece. Why do you not want to admit it, even to yourself?"

Elizabeth sagged back into the sofa, leaning against her aunt, and blinking to prevent tears falling.

"I thought he was different from other men," she whispered. "He seemed to see me, not just as a voice." She sighed, then huffed. "I knew I should not trust him. I have not met a single man I could trust."

"Your uncle will be distressed by that statement." Aunt looked slyly at her.

"I did not mean Uncle!" Elizabeth flared.

"Or your papa?"

"No, not Papa, either." She met her aunt's gaze. "You know what I mean. You know about Robert Goulding and Mr. Haye. They were proof that men wanted to possess my talent and I was not safe."

Aunt nodded. "So how did you know Mr. Darcy was different?"

"He is not," Elizabeth fumed. "Writing to his aunt, just assuming I wanted what he wanted. He is just the same as all the others — except that I have to be made into a suitable person for him to possess!"

"I had not thought of that," her aunt murmured. "But before you found out he had written, you said you had thought he was different. And Miss Lucas said he took time with you as a person."

"Well, he must have just been acting," Elizabeth muttered. "It just proves they cannot be trusted."

"So why are you so angry about this particular gentleman, if you have had such proof from everyone before?" The gentle voice prodded the sore spot in Elizabeth's heart. "Did you let yourself think that this time it was different?"

"I did," Elizabeth hid her face in her hands. "I told you how he apologised after the assembly. And then he seemed to really listen to the words of the song about Jane. At Netherfield, he did not ask me to play the piano; he offered a game of chess, although he did get lost in thought halfway through. But then, when we did play, he didn't try to give me an easy time, and was a gracious loser." She leaned into her aunt's shoulder. "Oh, I really was able to dream he was not doing it all because he just wanted to possess me for my talent."

"And why do you now think that is all it was?"

Elizabeth lifted her head and looked at her aunt. "His letter proves it."

"Proves what?"

"That he just sees me as a talent."

"Does it?"

"Of course."

"Might it be that he does care for you as a person, and his upbringing has made him think that you would wish to rise in society? He has probably never met anyone who is not a social climber. Perhaps he was trying to assist you in what he thought you wanted." Her aunt allowed some amusement into her voice, and Elizabeth thought of Miss Bingley and her sister — and even Mama's insistence that her girls should make good marriages, and her temper eased a little.

"But would it not be better to have at least asked me if that was what I wanted?"

"Of course it would." Her aunt hugged her. "But now we come to your feeling that men are not to be trusted. I know you are wrong. But it is a fact that men are different from women, and it is something that we ladies have to learn to adapt to." She smiled mischievously.

"If you do ever decide to marry, Lizzy, you will have to do what all ladies do if you are to be content, and change your expectations. Oh, you will be able to teach him to be more communicative, but it does not come easy to gentlemen who have mostly only had the opportunity for superficial conversations with ladies they do not know well."

Elizabeth huffed. "They must think us all foolish, thoughtless creatures!"

"They probably do," Aunt laughed. "It is the way they have been brought up, and they need to be forgiven for it."

Elizabeth sniffed derisively. "You would think he had better powers of observation than that!"

"Mr. Darcy? I suppose not. Pemberley is a very great estate, Lizzy. Being brought up in Lambton, I know the family has an excellent reputation for fairness and assistance to their tenants, taking their duty to those they employ very seriously. And look at the way he went to Hertfordshire to help Mr. Bingley. I think he is used to seeing need in people around him, and acting to assist them in the way he thinks they need it."

She tightened her embrace on Elizabeth. "Just remember that his action might have been thoughtless, but I doubt it was malicious."

Elizabeth sighed. She would have to forgive him, now that her aunt had shown how he could not help his arrogance and pride, and he had been trying to help her. Thoughtless, yes; displeasing, yes; but not a deliberate attempt to expose her to a dangerous situation. "I suppose you are right, Aunt."

"I often am, you know," her aunt had a smile in her voice and Elizabeth smiled back, her heart less troubled, and a warmth spread through her when she thought of him without anger — although she would still castigate him when she saw him again!

When Uncle Gardiner came home from his warehouse that evening, he crossed the room and kissed his wife's cheek. "You were right, Madeline, as you often are." He held out a letter.

Aunt raised an eyebrow slightly at Elizabeth, who understood at once how his words reflected what Aunt had said upstairs during their conversation.

She watched her aunt open the letter and then smile. "As you say, Edward, dear. I think we can let Lizzy read it, don't you?"

"Whatever you think best." Her uncle sat down and reached for his teacup.

"Who is it from?" Elizabeth was curious.

"It is from your father, Lizzy, and he encloses a letter from Mr. Darcy."

Her heart thumped erratically. "Is it an apology, or is he angry at Papa refusing their kind offer?"

Her aunt looked at her reprovingly. "It is an apology, and a very generous one, too." She extended the letter to Elizabeth.

Gardiner

I am enclosing a letter from Mr. Darcy, apologising for failing to ask if we wished Elizabeth's name to become known in town. He doesn't even seem to be offended at the caustic manner of my reply to his aunt, and I think the better of him for it. I expect Lizzy is curious and I have no objection to her reading it, provided that she is in company with your wife while doing so.

Thank you again for hosting her and Miss Lucas. I know she benefits greatly from time with you.

Yours, etc

Bennet

Elizabeth looked up. "May I see Mr. Darcy's letter, please, Aunt?"

Her aunt nodded and handed it to her. She held it so that Charlotte could read it too.

Dear Mr. Bennet

I have yet another apology to make to you and to Miss Elizabeth, and I am sorry not to be in Hertfordshire to do so in person.

I have seen your reply to my aunt's letter offering to introduce your daughter in society, and I completely understand that you and she must be exceedingly displeased by my impulsive action without first having had the courtesy to consult you and Miss Elizabeth. It was reprehensible of me, and I am, once again, mortified that I have caused yet another insult to your daughter.

I apologise sincerely for what I did, and ask that you convey my deepest regrets to Miss Elizabeth. I pray that she is not harmed by my action and my aunt's subsequent enquiries, and hope that her time in town may help the memory of what I did fade a little.

I am taking my young sister to Pemberley for the Christmas season as usual, but I am hoping to join Bingley again in the new year. My cousin is due back from the Peninsula soon, and I would like to bring him to your acquaintance, and very much look forward to observing his battle royal with you over the chessboard. It will do him the greatest good to be soundly thrashed as he is too good for everyone else.

My apologies once again for my reprehensible behaviour.

Yours, etc

F Darcy