Chapter 8

Eight

Elizabeth's attempt to escape the house and take a solitary walk early the following morning failed. Unlike her mother's usual habit—one Elizabeth had been accustomed to for as long as she could recall—she was out of bed, poking her head into the corridor and beckoning to her as soon as Elizabeth opened the door to her chamber.

"Sit, sit," her mother urged when Elizabeth entered the room.

Mrs Bennet pointed to a satin chair while perching on the edge of a chaise longue across from her. A tray of tea and biscuits was on the table between them. Elizabeth took note of the two cups, a sign her mother had anticipated their chat. A mix of emotions battled within—frustration, irritation, and trepidation most of all.

"Last night was amusing, was it not?"

"It was," Elizabeth said with some wariness. Her mother had behaved very peculiarly the day before, examining Elizabeth carefully as she dressed for the party. She had insisted on choosing the gown Elizabeth wore, which she never did, and had demanded their maid redo her hair.

"You want to look your very best, do you not? A certain gentleman will be present, after all," her mother had said.

Then, during the party, Elizabeth had seen her mother talking to Mr Darcy; heaven knew what she had said to him. Mrs Philips had insisted on placing him next to her at cards, and Elizabeth had caught a glimpse of Mrs Goulding standing with him. None of this would be remarkable if Elizabeth had not also witnessed the three ladies in urgent whispers to each other and recalled the occasions on which her mother had talked to her about him in recent days. She had wanted to scream at them to leave the man alone. Worried that Mrs Bennet had seen her watching Mr Darcy and gotten the wrong impression, Elizabeth had purposely avoided him. It helped that he wanted to avoid her and that by not talking to him, it alleviated a modicum of her sorrow. He had seemed reluctant to accede to Mrs Philips's request that he sit with Elizabeth, and while he might have had letters to write on Saturday, it sounded like an easy excuse to make for not calling at Longbourn. Could he not have attended to the task in the evening?

"You were beside Mr Darcy at the card table."

"Yes," Elizabeth said, drawing out the word.

Mrs Bennet made a happy little noise and smiled. "I dare say you found his company interesting. He is quite an intelligent gentleman, which suits you well. You would hate to…converse with a stupid man."

True, yet you wanted me to marry an exceedingly foolish one.

"Mr Darcy has such an athletic air too. You like to always be active, wandering through the fields as you do. I understand he has a large estate. Mr Bingley says it is a grand place. You would like to explore it."

Images of her time in Derbyshire flashed through Elizabeth's mind; she roughly thrust them aside to attend to her mother's speech, lest she find herself inadvertently saying something she would later regret.

"He will make a fine husband. He is rich, which is no little thing. Trust me. I would not have been so anxious about you girls if your father had half what Mr Darcy does." Mrs Bennet took a sip of her tea and adopted a casual manner that was plainly false.

For the next few minutes, Elizabeth listened as her mother spoke about the importance of choosing one's marriage partner wisely, all the while insinuating Mr Darcy was an excellent match for Elizabeth. Elizabeth managed to remain stoic, despite wanting to cry desperately. If her mother were another sort of woman, Elizabeth would confide in her; how good it would feel to share her inner turmoil! She would begin by agreeing whole-heartedly that Mr Darcy was the perfect man for her.

Instead, Elizabeth most desired to end the tête-à-tête and escape to the outdoors. It was increasingly difficult not to laugh. Apparently, her mother was playing matchmaker—likely with the assistance of Mrs Philips and Mrs Goulding. They were months too late. If only they—and especially Elizabeth—had recognised Mr Darcy's true character last autumn!

Perhaps I ought to tell her the entire sad tale. At least then she would understand the futility of her efforts. Besides, Elizabeth did not believe other people could force a couple together, as it was all too easy to break them apart. If she and Mr Darcy had any future together, they would have to manage it on their own.

If? I must give up such wishful thinking. He no longer wants to marry me. His words that horrible morning were clear enough. Both those horrible mornings—the one in Lambton and more recently when he talked about our time together ending. It is utterly hopeless.

Early the afternoon following Mrs Philips's card party, Bingley sent word that he was going out. Darcy was in his apartment, ostensibly writing letters but really staring out of the window, contemplating making an excuse and insisting he needed to return to Pemberley at once. Although Bingley did not say what errand drew him from Netherfield, Darcy suspected his purpose was to call on Miss Bennet and propose. If he were correct, his friend surely would have no further need for his company, and he would be free to leave. Oddly, the idea increased rather than decreased his despondency. It would mark a definitive end to his connexion with Elizabeth. They might never see each other again; indeed, Darcy believed he would have to ensure they did not. It was the only chance he stood of forgetting his love for her.

Shortly before the dinner hour, Darcy's supposition about Bingley's errand was proved correct. A hastily scribbled note arrived from Longbourn, begging him to come at once.

I have done it, Darcy! Miss Bennet, my dear Jane, has made me the happiest of men. Mrs Bennet insists you join us for a celebration. It will be just the family and us at dinner. Make haste!

Dismissing the notion of claiming illness, Darcy threw a glass of strong wine down his throat, hoping it would give him courage to face Elizabeth's disinterest, and called for his horse.

Everyone at Longbourn was in a jubilant mood, which was to be expected. As soon as the housekeeper showed him to the drawing room, Mrs Bennet rushed towards him.

"We are very glad you are here, especially Lizzy."

She half turned as though to look for her daughter. Darcy wanted to tell her that Elizabeth was sitting in the corner with Miss Mary. Her back was to them.

"I offer you and your family my congratulations. Bingley is a very fortunate man," Darcy said.

She smiled, and colour blossomed in her cheeks. "That is very good of you, sir. I have always said Jane could not be so beautiful without a reason. I knew she would catch the eye of a deserving gentleman, and I am glad to see her so happy. Mr Bennet might not show it, but he is pleased to finally have a son, even though it is a son-in-law, which is not quite the same as—Oh, how I am going on! You will want to talk to someone more interesting than I am. Lizzy was reading a new book earlier today. I am sure she would enjoy telling you about it."

The blood rushed from his face. "I-I-I pray you would not disturb her, madam. I am sure she would prefer to…think about her sister's wedding and other happier topics."

He executed a polite bow and went to shake Bingley's hand before seeking a seat beside Mr Bennet, who sat apart from the others in an ugly old chair he apparently favoured.

There was no mistaking Mrs Bennet's hope that he and Elizabeth would make a match of it. Determined to think the best of her, having been so mean-spirited in the past, he decided the matron had noticed that he and Elizabeth were particularly well-suited.

She means to do good . If I thought she could truly help my situation, I would gladly confide in her. But how could I tell her I might have prevented her youngest daughter's marriage to an unworthy man, but I failed to act, and now Elizabeth hates the very sight of me? That supposes she forgives me for insulting her family in Kent. There is nothing Mrs Bennet can say or do to convince Elizabeth to give me another chance to earn her love.

"Quite a lot of to-do, is it not, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy was startled by Mr Bennet's sudden speech; they were the first words he had spoken, despite having been seated next to each other for upwards of a quarter of an hour. They had only nodded in greeting.

"The ebullience is understandable."

Mr Bennet grunted, the sound suggesting he did not agree. "Young people have been getting engaged for centuries. Today alone, I imagine dozens, perhaps even hundreds of couples have done exactly as they have." He dipped his chin to indicate Miss Bennet and Bingley. They were listening to Miss Catherine, who appeared to be speaking rapidly.

"I fail to see why we must tolerate all this noise about it. But that is most likely hunger talking. Lizzy assures me I am quite the curmudgeon when I am most desperate for my dinner. I am glad your friend came to the point at last. I most heartedly pray he proves himself worthy of my girl." Mr Bennet frowned as he regarded the newly-engaged couple.

"He will. I assure you, his attachment to her is everything it should be."

Darcy's eyes drifted to Elizabeth. He might as well have been speaking of his feelings for her. She remained with Miss Mary, who scowled as she watched Bingley. Mrs Bennet was at Elizabeth's other side and was chattering away, though Elizabeth said nothing.

Soon after, they were called into the dining room.