Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

D arcy sat in his dressing room the next morning, a breakfast tray ignored on the table and the coffee in his cup grown cold. His mind could not stop passing over the mortification he had endured yesterday. He was also thunderstruck by how saddened he felt by L's abandonment. He was certainly not unaccustomed to life's disappointments, but this hurt more than he ever expected such a rejection could hurt.

He had been enthusiastic to meet L, both for her own sake and for the expectation of forgetting Elizabeth. It was an insult to be forsaken this way, but this heartache was harder to bear.

His door opened, and Fitzwilliam entered unannounced. They had free rein over one another's homes, but it still surprised him to see his cousin at so early an hour.

"I thought you had a late night at that rout with Mrs Sullivan," he said, gesturing to the other chair at the table.

"I did," Fitzwilliam said, looking at the coffee pot but changing his mind when he realised it was cold, "but you probably had a late night pacing and thinking and distressing, so here I am to ensure you do not make yourself miserable."

Darcy smiled faintly. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"You came to check on me, but you came with an opinion as well." Darcy sighed and held open his hands. "I am ready to hear it."

Fitzwilliam pointed at him. "Since she played you false, I say revenge is in your power."

"That is not amusing."

He muttered an apology. "I was only trying to cheer you. But perhaps this is a better way." Fitzwilliam handed him a sheet. "This is the updated subscription list. There are more names than there were a fortnight ago. For all the town talk against it, privately there seems to be more approval."

Darcy idly looked down the list. "I do not want to recover by impulsively throwing myself at another woman."

After a thoughtful pause, his cousin said, "Perhaps L's guardians learnt about the scheme and prevented her from coming?"

Darcy reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter that had come in the first morning post and handed it to Fitzwilliam. "No, she chose not to come."

Tuesday, February 11, 5 o'clock

My dear friend,

You must question my salutation and wonder if you are indeed dear to me after what happened yesterday. I have inflicted pain on you, and you must resent me for it. It would be natural after I insisted on the strange meeting and then failed to appear.

I would be all anxiety to learn that you hate me for it, although, to be honest, I fear that you do. I hardly know what explanation I can give that you would accept. Please know that my reluctance had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you. Fear and anxiety overcame me, and all I can say is that I no longer think a meeting is wise. I can admit to this paper, that might be burned before your eyes even read it, that while writing I felt an attraction to you and an interest in your happiness, and when it came time to meet, I was afraid to follow through.

I suspect you cannot forget my offence against you. If I have lost your good opinion, be sure to know that I recognise the value of what I have lost. And if you do not reply and wish to end our correspondence forever, know that I will always consider myself,

Your affectionate friend,

L

His cousin was silent for a long while after he finished reading. "Some fear or doubt reversed her intention."

Darcy nodded. The question was, what had caused that fear or doubt? L admitted to an attraction that rivalled his own, but something changed her mind. He could not think of anything he had done to worry L, but perhaps he had simply been too hasty in asking her to meet.

"Reassure her that you won't reject her on sight," Fitzwilliam said, handing the page back. "Write again and encourage another meeting under more appropriate terms."

Darcy shook his head and refolded the letter. "No. I will not make her uncomfortable by pursuing her. It would only pain her. She made it clear she does not want to meet, and it would be an insult to her to hound her with vain wishes."

"But will you continue to write to her, in case she changes her mind?"

He shrugged. "I must at least acknowledge her last." After that, he was unsure if writing was wise.

"You have every right to resent her, you know," his cousin said, pouring himself a cup of cold coffee after all. "You wanted to meet honourably. She arranged a curious scheme instead, and then she abandoned you for no reason she will admit to. I say, burn the letter, wish her to the devil, and find a new lady. And then send L your wedding notice after you find a new love."

His cousin was trying to rally him. It was unlike him to be unkind. "No, I do not wish her ill for changing her mind."

"Your temper surprises me," Fitzwilliam said. "You would not be harsh to her, but I would have expected at least some bitterness of spirit."

"I am trying to be more gentlemanly, more patient with others," he said.

"And you liked L a great deal, I suppose?"

Darcy nodded. Perhaps bitterness would come later, but he was more disappointed than angry. He hoped he would not be unkind toward L in his own heart. He was capable of the inward reflection necessary to comprehend Elizabeth's criticism of how gentlemanly he truly was, and then wish to improve himself. A few months ago, he would have been ruled by a resentful temper.

But now he only wished L to be happy.

"Clara was pleased to have met you yesterday," his cousin said, likely to change the subject. "I must have talked about you too much. I hope she was not disappointed in you, even though you did talk to her about horses."

Darcy gave his cousin a pointed look. "‘Clara', is it?"

Fitzwilliam blushed, and Darcy grinned for the first time since yesterday. It was rare he could embarrass his cousin, and after what happened at The Green Park, Darcy was going to enjoy this small moment of cheerfulness.

"Yes, Mrs Sullivan, I mean. She is rather affable for the fashionable world, but your taciturn self is drawn to sociable people."

Fitzwilliam had not said where he met her, and Darcy wondered if it was through the subscription business. He was always making new friends, though, and he kept most of them. "Was Mrs Sullivan one of the dozens of ladies you wrote to through the matchmaking office?"

"Hmm, yes. Hard to keep track of them all, but easier now that I have faces to go along with all the names. I am an earl's son, you know. Highly desirable."

Darcy nodded disbelievingly. If Fitzwilliam had met other ladies, he only introduced him to the widowed Mrs Sullivan. He wondered if Fitzwilliam would get attached. Clara Sullivan was not the sort of woman his cousin typically admired. She was older, rather plain, and although wealthy, she had no rank to boast of.

"Was Mrs Sullivan offended by Miss Bingley's snub?" As soon as she heard Harley Street, Miss Bingley looked ready to decamp as fast as possible. Darcy hoped he would never have been that sort of person, but he could at least guarantee he would not be in the future.

"She is accustomed to it, I think. She has wealth and taste, but her father was a banker and her first husband had no rank either. Mrs Sullivan mentioned wanting to speak again to the sister of the woman you tried to keep from Bingley, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You do not think she was feigning politeness with Mrs Sullivan?"

Darcy felt taken aback at the hint that Elizabeth could act that way. "Not at all." It had been jarring to see the woman he admired in vain when he had been eager to meet the woman he expected to help him forget her. While he feared L would not show, he also spent that brief meeting in dread that L would appear while Elizabeth was present. His feelings for both women were too complicated for him to see them both at the same time. "She is not superior or false. She has a warm heart and excellent understanding. I think any woman should be proud to call Elizabeth Bennet her friend."

After a pause his cousin added, "Rather pretty too."

He remembered how she had looked at The Green Park. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, and her hair falling out from under a bonnet that sat askew on her head. "Yes, possibly the handsomest woman I have ever known."

Darcy was lost in the remembrance for a moment before he noticed Fitzwilliam's emphatic look.

"Do not look at me like that. I have no hope in that quarter."

"Friendly, pretty, lively…" Fitzwilliam counted on his fingers as he listed her qualities.

He had to end this now. "She is the reason I agreed to your matchmaking scheme. I have admired her since the autumn, but I wanted to forget her and your plan seemed at the least to be a pleasant distraction."

Fitzwilliam threw up his hands. "So what if she has neither fortune nor consequence? You have enough for the both of you. That would be nothing if you really loved her."

"I have already overcome those concerns, I assure you, but it does not matter because she does not like me. The first time I met her, I insulted her. I called her not handsome enough for me to dance with, and my manners after that did not impress her either."

Fitzwilliam's face fell, and he shook his head, saying, "You do tend to behave poorly amongst strangers."

"So I have learnt," he said drily. "Miss Elizabeth thought me selfish and ungentlemanly, and that was before I tried to keep her sister from Bingley."

"But all of that is behind you now, and from the way you describe her, she does not seem of the temper to hold a grudge."

It might be behind them, as was her misplaced trust in Wickham, but she did not admire him. She made her opinion quite plain. How much longer would this heartache linger? "Leave it," he pleaded. "The woman who has entirely bewitched me does not even respect me, and the woman I felt an attraction to has forsaken me."

Fitzwilliam nodded, although his sympathetic look lingered, and Darcy sought to distract him and shift the attention away from his own heartache. "Does your father still want you for Lord Stewart's daughter?" he teased.

"I will marry that woman the day you meet Anne de Bourgh at the altar."

Darcy shuddered, and his cousin laughed. "I would rather be a bachelor for the rest of my days if Anne is my only option."

Fitzwilliam waved the subscription list. "She is far from the only option!"

He smiled but shook his head. "I am still in love with Elizabeth Bennet, although she dislikes me immensely, so I ought not to pursue anyone at present. I put too heavy a burden on L, and perhaps she felt distressed by my eagerness. Until my feelings for Miss Elizabeth are driven away, I ought to leave the matchmaking to you."

"In that case, I hope you forget her soon. But if Mrs Sullivan befriends her and your friend marries her sister, you will have a difficult winter ahead of you."

"Now that I know she has no good opinion of me, it shan't be as hard as I previously thought." At least, he hoped that would be true.

Fitzwilliam rose and clapped him on the shoulder, saying he would see him at the ball, and left. Darcy went to his writing box and organised his supplies. He would be gracious in his short reply to L. If L wanted to continue to write in friendship, he could occasionally do that to make her happy, but he would be more reserved and less timely in his replies than he had been.

He would have to be equally reserved with Elizabeth, but that would be difficult, as their paths would now cross often. Elizabeth regretted her mistaken judgment. He saw it in her face at the park, but just as there was no future with L, there was no future happiness to be had with Elizabeth Bennet either.

Wednesday, February 12, 11 o'clock in the morning

My dear friend,

Your letter yesterday made me happy, it will surprise you to know. I feared you had met with some misfortune, although I will admit that it was a selfish fear. It was less painful to imagine something had prevented your meeting me rather than acknowledge you chose not to meet me after all.

You wrote you thought my good opinion was lost forever, and I think that if I had not been recently reminded of what it means to act in a gentlemanlike manner, I would have read your letter but never replied, and forgotten you. But I am aware of how little yielding my temper is and am taking pains to improve it. I feel I can be honest in these pages and say that I was disappointed you did not appear in The Green Park. However, I do not fault you for it. Nor do I resent you or wish you ill.

I was too hasty in asking for a meeting, and perhaps it is good that you did not appear. You cannot believe that I would have rejected you on sight, but I will not blame you for regretting to agree to my impulsive request. The frequency and intimacy of our correspondence must wane, but I leave what happens next entirely in your hands.

Should you reply, do not fear my addressing you in the language of love. I will merely be your friend, and I swear never to address you but in the language of friendship.

Since we are both writing for the sake of others, to either appease them or show them another option for matrimony, if you wish to continue writing in friendship, although less frequently than we once did, I will remain,

Your sincere friend,

F

It was a more gracious letter than Elizabeth expected to receive, and it was further proof that Darcy was no longer the selfish man she assumed he was. Bingley was downstairs now visiting with Jane, and Elizabeth was certain a proposal would ensue in the coming days. She would therefore meet often with Darcy for the rest of her life, and it would always remind her that she had allowed a first impression to blind her to the good qualities of a man who must now hate her.

A man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her.

The door opened, and Jane entered. "You did not join us in the drawing room."

"That was to save you the trouble of sending me away so Bingley could talk with you alone."

Jane shook her head. "My aunt was with us."

"And did she stay the entire time?"

Her sister's cheeks pinked. "No, she went away on some errand with her children, but she was back within a few minutes, and before you tease me, your schemes for this day were ineffectual."

Elizabeth smiled. "It is only a matter of time."

Jane sat and took her hand. "Are you quite recovered from yesterday?"

"Oh yes. It hardly takes a moment to recover from learning the man you imagined yourself falling in love with is the same man you hated for months."

"But you do not hate Mr Darcy now, surely?"

"Of course not," she cried, "although he might loathe the sight of me after I berated him so unjustly."

"If he did, he did not show it at the park," Jane said. "Now, are you truly recovered? Even my uncle remarked you seemed out of spirits."

Elizabeth slipped her hand from her sister's and stood. "I will do better to show a happier affect."

"Lizzy, you can be honest with me."

She sighed. "It is a shame because F seemed to have such a liberal heart, and every word he wrote announced the intelligence of his mind. I got the impression he was loyal to his friends and his family. I think in his own way he was eager to be loved. He was a young man deserving of my regard, and I entertained some private hopes that our writing might lead to our future happiness."

"I am sorry you lost that opportunity with Mr Darcy. I think he is a good sort of man."

Elizabeth was struck how much she admired Darcy after all. Jane was right—he was a good man, a far better one than she had previously given him credit for. Hope that his opinion about her might change entered her heart. Was it impossible that he could forgive her misjudgment and come to admire her? He forgave L for abandoning him, so maybe Darcy could pardon her, too.

"Have I truly lost that opportunity with him? L has lost her chance, but what about me ?" L and F could only ever be friends, and their correspondence must sink. But F and Darcy were the same man, with the same values, same talents, same character—and the same qualities they were looking for in a spouse. "Jane, they are the same man," Elizabeth cried, smiling. "If F was attracted to a lively, amiable correspondent without fortune but with some quickness, why could not Mr Darcy become attached to me?"

"I believe I said yesterday he looks at you a great deal and asked you to dance?—"

"He announced I was only tolerable," she said quickly, holding up a hand. "And if he was at best indifferent before, he must dislike me now after what I accused him of. But perhaps he could grow to like me in that way. He is trying to be more patient and kinder to those outside his circle. He just has to consider me as a marriage partner when he has never thought of me romantically at all before." All this time, while writing to an anonymous man, she was falling in love with Darcy. She laughed to herself, grinning at the hope of changing his opinion of her.

"Well, from what you have said of your letters and what little I have observed of him, you have literary tastes in common, and your cheerfulness will counteract his gravity. He is devoted to those he loves, just as you are."

Elizabeth laughed again at the prospect of procuring Darcy's regard. "Oh, Jane, my head is all bewildered with what I have to accept: I am attracted to Mr Darcy."

"It is not so strange," Jane insisted. "You never appreciated it before, but he is wealthy, handsome, and intelligent."

Perhaps it was not strange, but she had wasted months hating the man and not bothering to know him at all. "I shall have to encourage him, show him more than I feel, as I suggested you do. He talked with me often before, you know, but I was always trying to provoke him with saucy speeches. He might take a stronger interest in me if I was pleasant to him."

"I do not think Mr Darcy enjoys it when women flatter him."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "You are thinking of your future sister-in-law."

"Lizzy," Jane cried. "Bingley has said nothing of his feelings for me."

"He might not have said he loves you, but his actions are finally expressing what he ought to have expressed in Hertfordshire. He is sending his carriage for us for tomorrow's ball. I know my aunt does not enjoy a crush where she knows not a soul, so you had better get an engagement out of it."

"What about you?" Jane asked softly. "Mr Darcy will be at the ball."

She would have to pursue Darcy, but with no flattery or undue deference. He never considered marrying Elizabeth Bennet in all his life, and now she was determined to make him like her. She had never had to try to secure the interest of a man before, and she certainly never had to overcome a man's dislike.

Elizabeth grew embarrassed by how much she had talked of herself. "I suppose I must try to be more than tolerably pretty so he will dance with me." It was one thing to encourage Jane to talk about her feelings for Bingley. The possibility of loving Darcy—of him loving her in return—was too new to be spoken of. "Where were you before Bingley called? I did not see you after breakfast."

If Jane suspected she was changing the subject, she was too gracious to comment on it. "I wrote to my mother. I had a great deal to inform her about, and I had waited until I was surer of my feelings before I mentioned seeing Bingley."

"I am glad not to hear her cries of joy myself. When you write about your engagement—yes, it will happen—my ears and I are pleased to be twenty-five miles from Longbourn."

"I also explained some part of what we learnt about Wickham. Nothing about Miss Darcy, of course," Jane added quickly, "but of his character. Perhaps Miss King can be removed from his influence. Now that my mother can spread the news of his prior bad behaviour, hopefully no other ladies in the neighbourhood will be imposed upon. And no one can press us for more details because we are not there."

Elizabeth agreed, and then their aunt called them to give their opinions on what she ought to wear tomorrow evening. While they talked about dress and hair and shoes, Elizabeth's mind passed over if she truly had any hope in persuading Darcy that there was room in his heart for her.

She knew she had no power over Darcy, not after the way she acted toward him. And he was perhaps still enchanted by L despite his promises in his letter. He might even be bewitched by the friendly and artless Mrs Sullivan. The widow might appear more worldly and wise compared to the young lady who misjudged him.

She had never had to put herself forward before to encourage a man's notice, and of course it was looked down upon for a woman to show a strong interest in a man. But now women could subscribe to a matchmaking business and announce what they were looking for in a husband in a private letter. Women could write to a stranger who appealed to them from a list of men. For a man of character and merit like Darcy, she could put her heart forward for the taking.

She could encourage lively banter with him rather than try to provoke his anger. She could listen when Darcy spoke and not assume the worst of him. But would that be enough to convince Darcy that he wanted her to love him?