Chapter 9

E lizabeth showed an unmistakable air of astonishment and curiosity before Mrs Barstow, sitting in front of her in the comfortable parlour of the Gardiners’ London residence. Merely a few days had elapsed since her journey from Rosings, yet Mrs Barstow had already paid her a visit, which conveyed the gravity of the situation and the deep concern that the older lady harboured.

“I was pleased to meet your aunt Mrs Gardiner. I hope she will pardon my impoliteness in seeking to talk to you alone,” she said.

“Certainly,” Elizabeth replied.

“The matter at hand is of such importance that any indiscretion could have dire consequences. Not that I doubt your aunt’s discretion.”

“Of course not.”

“Imagine, my dear, I had scarcely arrived from Rosings when I was inundated with reports about Lady Amelia. ”

Elizabeth averted her gaze, but Mrs Barstow saw the change on her face; her jealousy was a good sign as it betrayed the affection she held for the man whose proposal she had rejected—a reality she may not have fully embraced.

“I intend to tell Georgiana what happened in Kent, but I wished to confer with you first.”

Elizabeth, still puzzled, did not immediately respond.

“Georgiana is yet young, but the events of the past summer made her mature beyond her years in some ways. She does not like Lady Amelia…at all.”

“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked, trying to imagine Mr Darcy’s sister.

“Lady Amelia has an unshakable conviction in her persuasive abilities , which renders her ignorant to everything else. Furthermore, she fails to comprehend Fitzwilliam’s deep affection for his sister, which is a huge blunder. Failing to secure Georgiana’s support is a grave mistake that I trust you will not commit.”

“Mrs Barstow!” Elizabeth exclaimed, shaking her head, clearly annoyed as she had never liked those schemes she often heard about—and sometimes even witnessed in her family. “Please, no!” she said. “Mr Darcy has every right to select his own wife—”

“And he has done so!” the lady interjected. “He indeed did so in the Parsonage. Regrettably, he did not find the best way of speaking to your heart.”

“He found his way,” Elizabeth whispered, her cheeks flushed. “Perhaps not the right entrance—”

“My goodness, let us use more direct language. He acted foolishly and conceitedly, passing judgment on your family rather than asking himself about his own. His mother, I assure you, would have been mortified by his conduct, and her premature death a decade ago likely played a part in his transformation. Cousin Darcy’s joie de vivre perished with her, and their once-harmonious family ceased to exist. This may account for Fitzwilliam’s aloofness—”

“He did not seem aloof when speaking of his inner struggle—”

“That behaviour was fuelled by his love for you! You, Miss Bennet, awakened him to life, and you will not permit another woman to reap the rewards of his transformation, at least not while I have a say in the matter.”

“What am I to do? I am not inclined towards such schemes as Lady Amelia uses—at least how you described her.”

“Rest assured, I depicted her in her true colours. I would never resort to any tactics if Lady Amelia genuinely loved him. I would have stepped aside and allowed him to marry a woman whose sole aim in life was to share her happiness with him. Unfortunately, Lady Amelia covets his wealth and influence.”

“But she is a member of the ton.”

“Barely so. Her father held the title of Earl of Sutton, but he died without a male heir when she was but an infant, leaving her and her mother in ruin. Her mother married a wealthy merchant from Manchester, bearing him three sons and forsaking the London social scene. Lady Amelia wants a fortune and a position she imagines befits her.”

“Yet Mr Darcy lacks a title. ”

“True, but his wealth and connections within the ton are substantial. He receives invitations from numerous prominent London households. I have no doubt his uncle will wield his influence to secure a title for him. Rumours once circulated that Lady Amelia aspired to marry the colonel’s brother, Viscount Lisle. Still, she failed as he married the lady his father selected. She knew the family well enough to shift her interest to Fitzwilliam. And a certain closeness grew after Christmas.”

“Oh, Christmas!” Elizabeth mused aloud. “He left Hertfordshire at the end of November. He was the only resident of Netherfield to bid me…a kind of farewell. Although I failed to grasp the significance of their hasty departure from our neighbourhood at the time, I reflected on the reasons behind his visit—”

“He was in love with you,” Mrs Barstow stated plainly, voicing what Elizabeth had refused to see earlier. However, a peculiar sensation occasionally struck her, hinting at the truth.

“If that is true, I wish I had suspected his sentiments,” Elizabeth confessed. “Yet, he was insufferable—so proud. Moreover, there was the incident with Mr Wickham, where he appeared as the villain.”

“What a deception! Wickham’s presence in Hertfordshire thwarted my plans to visit Netherfield with Georgiana. Now you see why.”

“Yes, everything went wrong, and they left.”

“Enough of the past. In a week, Georgiana’s favourite play will be performed at Covent Garden—A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I am confident he will accompany her to the theatre, and you will also attend with your family.”

“But he will suspect a contrivance!” Elizabeth protested, whilst secretly hoping for a chance to meet him.

“No, he will not, for we shall leave no reason for suspicion.”

“I abhor this role I must play.”

“Then, one evening in the future at Pemberley, you will reveal the truth to him. But for now, attend the theatre. If you want to feel better, watch the play, imagine yourself in Athens, and, like the other characters, play a game of innocent love.”

???

“What happened?” Mrs Gardiner asked impatiently.

Elizabeth cast a grateful glance at her aunt. She needed her counsel, even if she had rarely heeded it before. But this time, she was in a turmoil she barely understood and even less had any idea how to navigate. Amidst tears and smiles, she had confided in her aunt, and her aunt alone, the events that had unfolded at the Parsonage. She had witnessed the shock, followed by regret and sadness, in her aunt’s face as she realised Elizabeth’s love for that man and finally recognised it as a tragic missed opportunity for a perfect match.

“Speak, Lizzy,” she implored. “I feel the same way Mrs Barstow does about your story—it is a loss, Lizzy. You love each other, and believe me, nothing else matters.”

“How can you say that?” Elizabeth protested, torn between her affection for a man and her unwavering commitment to her beloved family.

“Cease tormenting yourself, Lizzy. Face the facts. Upon marriage, your obligations shift to your new family. Our parents and brothers and sisters remain in our hearts, but your husband and children take first place in your life. I am fortunate that Mr Gardiner and my father share an amicable relationship, but if a conflict were to arise…”

“What if Mr Gardiner is mistaken, and you know it?”

“Then, I would gently seek to show him the error.”

“Yes, I see your point, but when I uttered those words to Mr Darcy, I was unaware of my feelings.”

“That is not an excuse, my dear.” Mrs Gardiner smiled.

“He too was at fault—”

“Nor is that an excuse,” Mrs Gardiner continued, her tone affectionate. “His family is not perfect—there is no such thing as a perfect family or individual. You should have described your family to him as it truly is, with all its foibles.”

“But Jane…she is blameless in this matter.”

“Perhaps, but to a stranger, she could appear as a ruthless woman intent on securing a marriage. How could Mr Darcy have known that it was your mother who encouraged her to ride in the rain in order to spend the night at Netherfield and spread rumours about her engagement? Furthermore, I doubt Mr Darcy was the only culprit. His sisters…I am certain they did not welcome the idea of Jane marrying Mr Bingley.”

“I cannot absolve him—”

“You can. However, forget him for the moment.”

“I cannot, for we are not his inferiors, and even if we were, he has no right to disdain us. The most deplorable character trait is the inability to respect others, regardless of rank, wealth, or intellect.”

“I concur.” Mrs Gardiner gently prodded her. “Pray, do tell me of another fault you find in him.”

“He is excessively proud and prejudiced.”

“Yes, we just discussed that. Can you name any more?”

“His haughtiness—”

“Which, my dear, is but another facet of his pride, much akin to conceit.”

“But how would I know about other shortcomings? I am not sufficiently acquainted with him—he might have many more.”

“Indeed, I must agree. Our judgments are confined to what we presently know about him. He is unfailingly honest, a trait I do not entirely admire, but in the context of marriage, it has a certain merit. This gentleman will never dissemble with you.”

“He would rather wound me with his words than utter a falsehood,” she responded, her cheeks flushed with innocence as she spoke about him as her future husband.

“Yet it is a far lesser fault than dishonesty, deceit, or duplicity. When he gazes into your eyes, you will see unwavering candour. He has cared for his sister as only a parent would. At an age when most of his peers revel in youthful pleasures, he manages one of Derbyshire’s largest estates. And, lastly, even if you may harbour resentment because of Jane, he is a loyal friend. He considered Jane a fortune hunter and acted as his conscience dictated. His actions were not against your family but in defence of his friend. And above all else, the greatest virtue I find in Mr Darcy is that he loves you, and I assure you that you are not easy to love!”

“Why do you regard that as a virtue?”

Mrs Gardiner look at her with something akin to pity, and at last, Elizabeth smiled. “Do you pity me?”

“Yes, for you are exceedingly intelligent yet seemingly incapable of understanding this man’s true character. He loves you, and I assure you that falling in love with you is not easy. I do not foresee many men willing to make you, their bride.”

“Mr Collins attempted it!” Elizabeth replied in jest, though she looked to her aunt for an explanation.

“Indeed, but he was ignorant of your true self. He was haughty, pompous, and narrow-minded, assuming that he could secure any woman’s hand without concern for future marital happiness. He sought a housekeeper, believing any woman would do.”

“You are absolutely right!” Elizabeth nodded.

“While Mr Darcy wanted you—the woman he has come to know and appreciate. He did not fear your intelligence or independence but deemed these traits essential to his happiness—”

She halted abruptly as Elizabeth’s tears began to flow unexpectedly. However, Elizabeth was not looking for sympathy like her sister Jane; she yearned for the unvarnished truth.

“You must change and strive to prompt a change in him, and then…marry. Regardless of your convictions, regardless of what your dear father has sown in your mind, di stinctions exist within our society. A marriage proposal from the master of Pemberley is a significant honour, believe me! I spent my early years but a few miles from Pemberley, and I speak from experience. Your father may be a gentleman, but Mr Darcy and his family belong to a different sphere. Even the fact that he is acquainted with Mr Bingley is in his favour, as the Bingleys are the offspring of men of trade, nothing more.” Mrs Gardiner passed her niece a handkerchief. “Now, my dear, we must prepare you to look like a queen and request that your uncle escort us to Covent Garden.”

“I cannot do that!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “It is like a plot that my mother might conceive!”

“Absolutely not. This man adores you, and he has proposed. You love him, and, in a grievous error, you rejected his offer. You have since reconsidered your sentiments, and now is the time to convey them.”

“Even if there is another lady?”

“For a man who proposed but a few days ago, I assure you, there is no other lady in his heart, only a means to forget the lady who refused him.”

“That is what Mrs Barstow also said.”

“And we are right. What we see is a fight between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. No one else is on the battlefield—make peace and win him back!”