Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

E lizabeth had sat stunned for a long time last night after Darcy left the library. She had eventually grabbed the nearest book and pretended to read in the drawing room for the rest of the evening while astonishment, apprehension, and even horror oppressed her.

However, the recitation of events had not appeared to distress Darcy. He was reading when she returned to the drawing room, but when the whist game had done, he joined the others and continued to be pleasant to everyone. She could not attend to a single conversation, but she heard him talk of the panorama to her uncle, of Derbyshire to her aunt, of how was she enjoying town to Jane. He tried to press Bingley into attending a lecture with him. He even showed patience to Miss Bingley, who continued to court his attention despite his lack of encouragement.

She had thought all of Darcy's actions grossly violated everything right and moral, and it turned out Darcy was a decent man all along.

"Lizzy, are you still not dressed?" Jane asked as she entered her room the next morning. "Are you ill?"

Elizabeth sighed and fell back onto her bed. "No, I am not ill. Ashamed, disappointed, but not ill. I must stay here until I can at least affect being cheerful before my aunt and uncle."

Jane sat next to her on the bed. "Your happy spirits have seldom been depressed before. What has you so affected as to make it impossible for you to appear tolerably cheerful?"

Elizabeth related to her the chief of the scene between Darcy and herself and what she had learnt about Wickham's character.

"What a dissolute man. And poor Miss Darcy," Jane cried. "It is too much to be believed."

"It was all too much to be believed, but it is true, and I do believe it. Darcy is blameless, and all Wickham has is charm of air and address." Something had to be done to ensure Wickham injured no one else. "Will you write to my mother and tell her about Wickham? She can then make our acquaintance in general understand Wickham's character."

"Are you certain? He might be sorry for what he has done and wish to reform himself."

"How can you say that, Jane?" she asked, incredulous. "He lied to me three months ago about the living, and now he is pursuing Miss King for her ten thousand pounds. He is a villain, and they all ought to know it, save for, of course, his involvement with Miss Darcy. A few hints about his lies and wasteful life will be enough."

Jane agreed to write to their mother. "It is a blow, to be sure. We were all so fond of Wickham. But why are you hiding in your room?"

"Because I behaved wretchedly!" Elizabeth sat up. "Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I courted prepossession and ignorance, and drove reason away—where either man was concerned. Until last night I never knew myself, Jane."

Jane squeezed her hand. "You are too hard on yourself."

"I was weak and vain and nonsensical."

"It is unfortunate that you should have used such strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr Darcy," Jane conceded, "for now they do appear wholly undeserved."

She felt shame wash over her again. "Wickham's countenance, voice, and manner had established him in my mind in the possession of every virtue. And Darcy's reserve and pride, his dismissal of me at the assembly, made me think him the worst sort of villain."

"I thought Mr Darcy rather amiable last evening," Jane mused. "Even Bingley remarked to his friend that he was noticeably friendlier. You must not have observed because you were reading."

"Hiding, you mean."

She had watched Darcy while pretending to be absorbed by her book. Darcy appeared desirous to please, and free from the self-consequence and unbending reserve she had previously seen from him. He had heard her reproofs and was attending to them, just as he said his future behaviour would prove how he had taken her words to heart.

She remembered how Darcy had said he was resolved to behave better, and she rose from the bed to read F's last letter again. Darcy had said to her last night something about losing the good principles he had grown up with. And there, in the paragraph about wanting to be a better person, F had written: I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit.

"What is the matter now?" Jane asked when Elizabeth groaned and tossed the letter aside.

As she was deciding what, if anything, to confess about her fears of F being Darcy, a maid entered with a letter from the office in Bishopsgate. She also gave one to Jane, and they both read their prospective letters.

Monday, February 10

My dear friend,

You must wonder at my writing again when you are a letter in my debt. Perhaps you are even surprised at hearing from me so often since I began my first letter expressing a desire to not raise your expectations. However, as I consider the matter of where this might lead, I cannot help but wonder if meeting in person might be a quicker and more meaningful way to decide if we would suit, either as friends or as something more.

While not timid, I think I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers, and this is another reason my cousin suggested this matchmaking scheme. However, to improve this, I ought to practise, just as I ought to practise showing more grace and patience to those outside my circle. Do not fear that you are a scheme by which for me to practise, however. I genuinely feel now, unlike how I felt before, that there is no harm in knowing one another in person.

If you are not opposed to a meeting, I invite you to tell the managers of the subscription office that you are willing to meet, and then we can exchange names and directions. Once that formality is done, please tell me when, and where, and under what conditions you would meet. By all means, bring someone you trust, your guardian or your sister. I will meet whomever you wish to bring with you and in any place in London of your choosing. I leave it up to you to determine if you want this meeting to be in public or private.

You might think this an abrupt change, and I suppose it is. I have come to realise how hard it is to truly know someone, and for others to know my genuine character. I wonder now if a proper acquaintance in person and sanctioned by your family might be a better course of action. Are you smiling in anticipation, or is your breath stolen in horror? If the latter, please do not fear an offer on first sight, my friend. I ask only for a quarter of an hour of your time.

Regardless of your answer, I remain yours sincerely,

F

A cold sweat broke out across her, and her hands shook the paper. What a startling change from how F began their correspondence. She should be grinning so widely it hurt. Until last night, she would have been delighted to meet F in person. Since they had begun writing, her thoughts were often with him. Her dear new friend, who read novels and cared for his shy sister, who was forthright and did not demand a woman's deference, who was clever and introspective, who wanted to trade his solitary hours for the company of a woman who loved him, might be the man best suited to make her happy.

But what if F was Darcy?

The mortification of arranging a meeting and then seeing the name Fitzwilliam Darcy on a letter from the matchmaking office would be wretched. And then, what would Darcy feel when he saw the name Elizabeth Bennet? It would devastate him, certainly. He had wanted to meet a friendly woman who would talk with him about books, not a woman who misjudged him for months. Darcy would never tolerate meeting once he saw her name, and then every future encounter would be a thousand times worse than it was already destined to be.

But if she refused to meet, her friendship with F would sink, because how else would he interpret her reluctance but as her disinterest in their possible relationship? But there was still the chance that she was wrong and he was not Darcy. Her judgment had not been sound as of late, after all.

Could she convince F to meet without involving her uncle or the matchmaking office, at least not at first? She could meet him in a public place, assure herself that F was not Fitzwilliam Darcy, briefly greet him, tell him she would like to continue their acquaintance and then go through all the formalities with the office and continue with a proper call in Cheapside.

But how could she arrange a meeting when she could go nowhere alone? Elizabeth set aside the letter and saw Jane using her writing table.

"What are you writing?"

"I received a note from Caroline. She wishes for my company on a walk in The Green Park tomorrow." Elizabeth's face must have expressed her opinion because Jane rushed to add, "She also says that her brother will be there and particularly hopes that I can come. He desires my presence so much that he will send a carriage to bring me to that part of town."

Elizabeth put aside her fears about Darcy being her correspondent. "That is lovely news, Jane! Bingley wants to spend time with you and is insisting his sister arrange it."

Jane blushed a little, and Elizabeth smiled at her sister's renewed hope. "I think that since Caroline is the one inviting me, my aunt will not be concerned about letting me go, even if she insists on sending a man with me in the carriage."

"Would you like me to join you?" Elizabeth cried, a little louder than she should have. "It might make it easier for my aunt to allow you to go, and I can distract Miss Bingley in case you need to lean on Bingley's arm."

"You would do that for me? Thank you."

Elizabeth felt guilt wash over her. She would have gone with Jane in any event, anything to help Jane find happiness with Bingley. But now she could beg F to meet her tomorrow in The Green Park. The park was enclosed with an iron railing and was not very large. Surely they could find a place to run into one another a little apart from her friends.

"Jane, what time is Bingley's carriage coming tomorrow? And you said The Green Park?"

While Jane answered and then finished at the table, Elizabeth composed a letter to F in her mind. She could tell him what she would wear, and when she would be there, and come up with some excuse for the clandestine nature of this first meeting. She could explain it away later with nerves or girlish fears or some other foolishness. Perhaps she could even tell F that she was afraid he might have been a man who had every reason to hate her and then they could laugh about it together.

The similarities she noted between F and Darcy were still there, and a meeting would put all of her fears to rest—or be the single most disastrous meeting ever to take place in London.

Monday, February 10, 11 o'clock

My dear friend,

When I received your last, my feelings were closer to excessive surprise than gleeful smiles or cries of horror. I am astonished that you wish to meet, but very gratified. I agree it is best to meet in person to learn if the amity I think we have both felt through the pen will translate to when we must speak to one another in a drawing room.

We neither of us have met anyone in this manner, and I wonder if I might alter your plans for an initial meeting? First impressions can have a powerful impact, for better or for worse, and I think we ought to look on one another in a brief and, dare I say, cursory manner before we go through the formalities of names and addresses through the subscription office.

Would you be amenable to a meeting tomorrow afternoon in The Green Park? I will walk with my sister and another lady and gentleman at 3 o'clock, and I will do my best to lead our group to the northwest corner by half-past. My hair and eyes are dark. I will wear a blue bonnet, and a posy of pansies pinned to my pelisse. I thought pansies fitting to identify me, as they are symbols for thinking of someone, and for hoping that they think of you in return. You, my dear friend, have often been in my thoughts. You are welcome to approach me when you see me. Perhaps you could also find a flower seller with pansies and attach them to your coat? Otherwise, I will be forced to approach every tall and slender man asking if he is F, and I hope you would spare me that mortification.

I tease, but I realise how peculiar this seems. I do not doubt your honour, and I hope my request does not place me under suspicion. If our encounter in the park is to our mutual satisfaction, I look forward to communicating our intentions to both the matchmaking office and our families and continuing our friendship in person.

Despite my curious request, I rejoice in the hope of meeting you and remain,

Your friend,

L

Darcy's mind passed over the letter as he hurried to Colonel Fitzwilliam's rooms in the bachelor quarters near St James's. It was five o'clock, and if he did not hurry, he would miss his cousin before he went out for the evening. Darcy rarely sought counsel for anything related to society or his friends, but he was not a man who refused to admit when he needed help. He was astonished at L wishing to meet him unknown to her guardians. It felt horribly inappropriate, and he could not understand it. It was not an indiscretion that he dared to attribute to an excess of love.

Fitzwilliam's set in the Albany would likely be beyond his ability to afford were it not for his father supplementing his income. Darcy entered an entrance hall, and there were two sitting rooms in the front, a bedroom at the back, with kitchen, cellars, and a room for a servant below. A single man could entertain in style here without having to take an entire townhouse for the season.

His cousin gestured for him to come into his smaller and cosier sitting room. "You came all this way just to see me? I am flattered."

Darcy looked at him askance as he sat. "It is half a mile from my house."

"You left your elegant house in Charles Street to come all the way to my humble bachelor quarters. To what do I owe the honour?"

"I come here all the time. The porter knows me by sight." This teasing had to end; Darcy needed help. "No younger son of an earl need be ashamed to put the Albany direction on his card."

Fitzwilliam threw himself into his chair with a smile. "But truly, why are you here?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Well, we were to see each other at Lady Courtney's ball on Thursday, so unless you need help to select a waistcoat, I am not sure why you came in person at this hour. I was about to dress to go to a concert with a friend."

"I received a letter from L," he said in a rush. "I asked her to meet." His cousin's face lit up, but Darcy threw out a hand. "But she has an odd request for me." He handed over L's letter and sat back in his chair to watch his cousin read. "What does this mean? Why does she want to arrange this stolen meeting?"

Fitzwilliam read, nodding to himself, and returned the sheet to him. "She does not want to involve her parents right away. Perhaps they are too eager to make her another man's responsibility, and she does not want to rush things. And she might be worried that you will take one look at her and announce she is ugly, and she would rather not be humiliated in front of her relations."

Darcy gasped. "I would never be so cruel!"

"Not cruel, but you might be severe, and I doubt you could hide your disappointment if you expected pretty, and she was not even tolerable."

"You cannot think I am so petty. Besides, I am fond of her. I am already predisposed to approve of her."

"Or maybe she's afraid ‘tall and slender' means unkempt and gangling. She wants a proper look at you before she gives away her name in case you are hideous."

Darcy gave a faint smile at his cousin's attempt at humour. "I doubt that. I came here for real advice. I admire her; I want to meet her, and I think she feels the same. She says she is writing with her friends' permission, so why this strange meeting in The Green Park before someone can properly introduce us?"

Fitzwilliam shrugged. "It is not so strange, you know. She might not want to raise expectations with her guardians if you can both tell within five minutes that you cannot stand one another. It is not the first time a man or a lady has put themselves in the way of their object."

"This is not the same as noticing a man in the lane and deciding to go for a walk or walking a path a lady habits hoping to encounter her. In those instances, one has already been introduced to the person they admire and are only hoping to talk with them more. She wants to meet me for the first time with no one knowing about it."

"If you are so against it, will you refuse?" his cousin asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "You have two options: agree to her curious terms, or tell her it is inappropriate and refuse."

He wanted to meet L. He would never forget Elizabeth if he did not get to know another woman. L's fortune was nothing, but he could afford to marry wherever he liked. L had a pleasant nature, a stock of vivacity and good humour. Aside from this request, she was sensible. She could be just the sort of woman to attract him.

"She is bringing her sister," he said slowly, "and it is in a public place. If this is what the lady wants, and since we will not be solus cum sola , I can do as she asks."

It was still an odd request, as far as he was concerned. He was perfectly willing to give his name and shift their acquaintance into public view. She was not; or at least not until they had seen each other in The Green Park tomorrow at half three. But he wanted L to feel at ease, and this manner of initial meeting was what she wanted.

He was uncertain what worried him more: the curious nature of their meeting or the fact that he was finally meeting L.

"I will join you tomorrow," his cousin said. Fitzwilliam rose to gather his coat and gloves.

"What?" he cried, standing as well. "Why?"

"To keep that worrisome look off your face so this mysterious L does not flee into the trees thinking you hate her as soon as you look at her," he said.

Darcy felt embarrassed at having come here for counsel. He deliberated, rationalised, reasoned, weighed every possibility, and came to quick decisions on his own. He then acted on that decision without looking back. It was unlike him to feel troubled about making a choice.

"If she is this concerned, why meet me at all?" he asked quietly. "She might have said she wanted to write for longer before deciding."

"Women are curious and delicate creatures," Fitzwilliam said, looking round the room. His gaze settled upon his hat thrown on a chair, and he put it on. "Best not to question it and just do as the lady asks."

"You are probably right. You need not come with me tomorrow, you know," Darcy added as they made their way to the door.

"No, you will need me with you while you wait so you do not become cross or change your mind. And Miss L will be with her party, and you will want me to distract them so you only have to be charming to one person. Pleasantness to four strangers is a bit much to expect from you."

Darcy ignored the slight on his civility. "I do not want to put you to an inconvenience."

"I was meeting a friend to ride anyway, so it is no trouble to change our plans to walk in The Green Park instead." He paused. "Well, they would always prefer to ride—fond of horses, like me—but they will want to meet you more than they want to ride."

"Who are you meeting?" he asked hurriedly. The last thing he wanted was for Fitzwilliam's entire regiment to know his business.

"No one you know, yet. I will introduce you tomorrow. And they do not know you are a subscriber. Here we must part ways," his cousin said when they reached a hackney stand at Piccadilly and Bond. "Go home, stop worrying, find some pretty pansies, and I will see you tomorrow at the park entrance behind St James's at quarter past three."

Fitzwilliam hailed a hackney, and Darcy returned on foot to Charles Street. He dearly hoped that L's guardians were in favour of the scheme and not likely to be a hindrance to their friendship. He was afraid they might punish her if they learnt she had arranged a clandestine meeting, or blame his influence for her scandalous behaviour. It would lead to problems if their relationship progressed beyond tomorrow's encounter.

He had a positive sense of his own self-worth, but he could not help but fear L was hiding something, and wonder why she was reluctant to make him known to her relations. However, he wanted to be more gentlemanly, and a true gentleman avoided whatever may cause a concern in the minds of those he was with.

If L wanted him to wear a sprig of pansies and meet in the park, if he was to be a better friend and gentleman, this is what he would have to do.