Chapter XXIX

W ith all that had been happening of late requiring Elizabeth's concentration, she had not much time to focus on other matters. Thus, when a letter arrived for her the following morning, its contents reminded Elizabeth of what she had forgotten in a manner that led to the entire family discussing the ramifications.

"It is from Aunt Gardiner," said Elizabeth to her mother's query.

The likely reason for the letter was apparent at once, but her mother did not seem to understand the significance so readily. "Oh? What does my sister say?"

There was no point in reminding her mother that she had not yet read the letter, so Elizabeth turned her attention to the pages, reading quickly, as Mrs. Bennet was not blessed with much patience. The contents concerned, as she had suspected, the upcoming journey to the lakes, a matter that had completely slipped Elizabeth's mind; it was a testament to how much had happened, for she had been anticipating the amusement keenly. What she had not expected, however, was for her aunt to write that they had altered both the distance and destination of the tour due to Mr. Gardiner's business.

"Well?" demanded her mother, proving Elizabeth's supposition about the limits of her mother's endurance.

"Mrs. Gardiner writes about the upcoming tour of the lakes," replied Elizabeth, turning attention to her more voluble parent. "As Mr. Gardiner's business will not allow him enough time to visit the lakes, we can go no further north than Derbyshire."

Mrs. Bennet showed she understood at once, given her sudden appearance of alarm. "You were to go north with them this summer!"

"I still am to go north," replied Elizabeth calmly, folding her letter and setting it beside her plate. "Yet instead of going next week, Uncle has delayed our departure for an additional two weeks."

"Go to the north?" demanded Mrs. Bennet. "Surely that is not possible now, Lizzy."

"And why would that be?" asked Elizabeth, determined not to give in. "Nothing has changed, Mama. My aunt and uncle invited me, and I accepted. I will not disappoint them by retracting my acceptance now."

"Matters have changed, Lizzy," said her mother, gaining her footing as she made her case. "There are good reasons for you to remain at Longbourn for the summer. It would be best if you wrote to your aunt and informed them you may not go. We can send Mary in your stead."

"Mama!" cried Lydia. "Why should dowdy Mary go? You denied me my amusement in Brighton—I should take Lizzy's place."

"Because Mary would actually enjoy a journey to the north," said Mary, "whereas I am certain Lydia would find it a tedious waste of time."

"As I recall," said Mr. Bennet, laughter in his tone, "Lydia said exactly that when she heard of Lizzy's invitation."

Lydia fumed, annoyed that her sibling and father had destroyed her pretensions so quickly. Elizabeth ignored the byplay, intent upon her breakfast, though she noted her father could not contain his amusement at the obvious point Mrs. Bennet had missed. Knowing there was no chance of being denied her amusement, Elizabeth remained calm, though she dreaded her mother's response when she finally understood the implications of Elizabeth's new destination.

The girls fell into bickering about who should accompany the Gardiners to the north. Lydia now wished to go despite her previous opinion, while Kitty whined that she was never allowed to go anywhere, let alone on a tour to the north. Mary added a few comments, mostly digs at Lydia, while Jane stayed clear of the dispute.

"Quiet, girls!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet after some moments of this. "If I required any proof of your need for a companion, your behavior now provides it."

Lydia and Kitty at once snapped their mouths closed, while Mary appeared a little shamefaced, her glance at Elizabeth full of meaning, given their discussion on the way to Meryton the previous morning. Mr. Bennet regarded his wife, smiling at her when she glanced at him. Elizabeth was surprised that her mother had failed to make the connection.

"Now," said Mrs. Bennet once she restored order, "we must speak further of this business of the northern tour, and it appears I must speak plainly. Lizzy, you cannot possibly think of going north at present, not considering how charming and attentive Mr. Darcy has been to you of late. No, I absolutely forbid it. You will write the Gardiners and inform them that Mary shall go in your stead."

Mr. Bennet chuckled, bringing Mrs. Bennet's eyes to him, a hint of offense in the narrowed gaze she directed at him. It was rather amusing, Elizabeth supposed, for her mother had readily understood the poor behavior the younger girls had betrayed, but completely missed the most important point that would make the entire business moot.

"I am astonished, Mrs. Bennet," said Mr. Bennet with a wink. "There is a monumentally important factor that you have not considered in forbidding Elizabeth from going north."

"What might that be, Mr. Bennet?" asked his wife, her tone suggesting she thought he meant to laugh at her expense, not an unreasonable assumption.

"It is most amusing that you have not seen it for yourself," said Mr. Bennet, still chuckling and shaking his head. "Let me help you understand. Lizzy has a tour to the north planned with the Gardiners. Now, where did they intend this tour to take them?"

"To the lakes," replied Mrs. Bennet. "We all know this."

"Indeed, we do. But if you recall, there was another place on their itinerary, one of great significance to Mrs. Gardiner. Now it is to be their destination. Where is that?"

"Derbyshire?" replied Mrs. Bennet, still not making the connection.

"Yes, that is correct. Derbyshire, where Mrs. Gardiner still has friends with whom she corresponds. Now, let me enlighten you as to the point of supreme importance. Who else of our acquaintance calls Derbyshire home?"

Mrs. Bennet considered the question for a long moment before her eyes lit up in shock and she turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzy!" cried she, her voice unsteady. "Where did Mr. Darcy say his estate was situated?"

"The rumors in Meryton last October suggested Derbyshire," replied Elizabeth, waiting for the coming explosion.

It did not come at once, for Mrs. Bennet appeared to be considering the ramifications of what she had just learned. She glanced between Mr. Bennet, Elizabeth, Mary, and even Lydia and Kitty, though what they had to do with the situation Elizabeth could not say. Then a beatific smile settled on her face, and she turned to Elizabeth.

"Your acquaintance with Mr. Darcy is more profound than any of us, Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet. "This town of which Mrs. Gardiner has often spoken..."

"Lambton," supplied Jane.

"Yes, Lambton," said Mrs. Bennet, nodding vigorously. "In what part of Derbyshire is it? For that matter, where is..."

"Pemberley," said Mary.

"Pemberley! Do you know how close they are?"

"I am certain I have never heard," said Elizabeth. "As I have never been to Derbyshire, I do not understand the finer points of its geography."

"If you dispatch an express to Mrs. Gardiner at once," said Mr. Bennet, suppressing his laughter with great difficulty, "Perhaps you might receive an answer tomorrow."

"There is no need for that, Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, her thoughts returning to the gentleman she thought a suitor for her second daughter. "Why, if you do not recall, we are to go to Netherfield for dinner this very night. Mr. Darcy will surely know the environs of his estate. Why, I am certain he can tell us the exact location of Lambton!"

"Mama," said Elizabeth plaintively. "Do you not suppose Mr. Darcy will consider such an application to be the height of rudeness?"

"Nonsense, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy has been so attentive that I am certain it will please him to learn of your impending journey to Derbyshire. It would not surprise me at all if he were to invite you all to stay there!"

The light of fanaticism lit up Mrs. Bennet's eyes. "Yes, that will do very well, indeed. You shall inform him of your upcoming tour, and I shall learn the location of his estate."

"Mama!" exclaimed Lydia. "I was to go in Lizzy's stead."

"Be still, child," reproved Mrs. Bennet. "If you recall, I intended to send Mary in Elizabeth's stead. Now there is no question of anyone but Lizzy going north."

It should not be a surprise that Lydia pouted at her mother's intractability, nor would anyone of any sense misunderstand the dread that filled Elizabeth's mind. Mr. Darcy, she suspected, would not think poorly of Mrs. Bennet's mercenary questions, or if he did, he would shunt it to the side for Elizabeth's sake. The thought of Lady Catherine's reaction turned Elizabeth's blood cold, to say nothing of the image of Miss Bingley's sneer of contempt that filled her mind.

Elizabeth cast a desperate look at her father, but he was enjoying himself too much to respond to her plea. When Elizabeth went to him later to ask him to prevent her mother, or at least curb her excesses, his response was what she might have suspected.

"Do not concern yourself, Lizzy," said he. "Mr. Darcy will not take offense, and I dare say the reason for your mother's questions will become clear soon enough."

"Perhaps it will," replied Elizabeth. "Yet such impertinent questions will no doubt anger Lady Catherine."

"It has been my observation, Lizzy," chuckled Mr. Bennet, "that it takes very little to anger the lady. Trust me, my dear. All will be well."

With that, Elizabeth must be content. Content was not the proper word, for she still greeted the evening with anxiety. When they left for Netherfield, Elizabeth wondered if she was heading for the gallows. Perhaps the guillotine would be better, for it would undoubtedly be quicker.

Darcy spent the day wild with anticipation for the coming of the Bennets, such that he was unlike his usually calm and rational self. The previous day in Miss Elizabeth's company in Meryton had been unlike any other time he had ever spent with her. It taught him to hope, to believe that perhaps there might be something between them, something rare and beautiful, something that might grow into everything he wished. It was not the foolish hope—or certainty if he were honest with himself—he had espoused as he approached the parsonage to propose to her, nor was it the desperate longing that had plagued him while he remained in London. This was something more substantial, driven by her obvious comfort in his company, the playful manners he had often seen, but realized she had never directed at him.

Those of his party were not blind to his longing, he knew, though their reactions differed. Anne, Bingley, and Fitzwilliam showed all the amusement of the situation, while Lady Catherine regarded him with a sort of fatalistic acceptance mixed with a determination to ensure his future wife upheld the family honor. Foolishness! Miss Elizabeth would have them all half in love with her by the end of her first week in society. Surely if she could reach even his cynical heart, she could pull a smile from even the most curmudgeonly baron or reluctant matron.

The closer to her arrival, the more nervous Darcy became. The wish that all would go well, that no one would say anything to make his task more difficult grew to a desperate longing for her arrival, that would relieve his suffering forever. It was not a rational desire. Yet he could not deny that it burned in his breast.

"I have never seen William like this," said Georgiana.

The waiting had almost ended, for the Bennets were due to arrive within a few moments. Unable to support the prospect of appearing the lovesick fool—not even Bingley was so eager as Darcy was himself—he had restrained himself from rising and pacing the room. It seemed his endeavors had been an absolute failure.

"I find it rather instructional," said Fitzwilliam, throwing an insouciant grin at his young cousin. "Darcy has always been so unflappable, that I have always thought him beyond such nervous displays. It appears he is flappable after all."

Bingley snorted at Fitzwilliam's sally, accompanied by a chorus of similar laughter, mixed with a huff or two. "I am enjoying it immensely. For all the times Darcy counseled me to hold my feelings in check, I do not think I was ever so nervous as he."

"You have fallen into love that many times, have you?" asked Fitzwilliam lazily.

"Not at all," replied Bingley, unconcerned. "What I felt before was a pale imitation of my regard for Miss Bennet. I am fortunate I never settled for any other woman, for I would not have known the bliss I shall experience when I finally take Miss Bennet for my wife."

"You shall be brothers!" cried Georgiana, clapping her hands with glee.

No one missed the pained expression on Miss Bingley's face, for they all knew she had wished Bingley to be a brother to Darcy, with herself the means of accomplishing it. Darcy did not allow his gaze to rest on her for long, but when he considered her, he could see how her protests had become weaker with time. Miss Bingley was not precisely resigned to her situation, but his reproofs, though they had taken time to affect her, seemed to have done what he intended.

"That is agreeable to me," said Bingley.

"It will give you an additional measure of respectability," said Lady Catherine. "I hope you understand what an honor it is to be connected to the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families."

"Without a doubt, your ladyship," replied Bingley, his ebullience unaffected by Lady Catherine's arrogance. "I shall strive to uphold the family's honor—of that you may be certain. In saying this, I need not make a similar promise for my future wife, for she is incapable of offending."

As she often did when Bingley spoke of Miss Bennet, Lady Catherine nodded and allowed the subject to rest. There was, Darcy supposed, nothing about Miss Bennet to criticize. She was so angelic that she would no doubt provoke approval simply because it was impossible for anyone to dislike her.

Mercifully, the Bennet family arrived a moment later, escorted into the room by Bingley's housekeeper. While they exchanged greetings, Darcy had eyes for only one of those newly arrived, and he could not keep himself from drinking in her presence, like a man dying from thirst, happening on a tall glass of cool water.

"Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy, having the presence of mind to approach rather than staring stupidly at her, making himself appear deficient. "How happy I am to see you tonight, for you are a vision."

For a woman of such prepossession, Miss Elizabeth delighted him by blushing deeply at his compliment. "I am happy to see you, Mr. Darcy."

Sensing no deception or exaggeration in her response, Darcy exulted, and guided her to a nearby pair of chairs, intent upon keeping her company for himself the entire night. As impossible as that might have sounded, it lasted less time than Darcy had hoped or expected. For while Miss Elizabeth was happy to see him by her admission, there was some measure of hesitancy in her manner, such as he had not seen from her in some time. It was as if she were worried, though Darcy could not imagine why.

On the heels of this realization, Darcy noted that Mrs. Bennet was watching him closely. Knowing this woman's character as he did and understanding the reason for her fears, he still could not imagine why she was so focused on him. It appeared Mrs. Bennet saw this, for she addressed him soon thereafter.

"Mr. Darcy, it occurs to me that we know nothing of you other than that you hale from Derbyshire. Can you tell us something about your home?"

As openings went, it was a rather clumsy attempt to learn more of him and his situation in life. Darcy had thought the previous year's gossip more thorough than this, but it appeared they had left much from the telling. Curious, Darcy glanced at Miss Elizabeth, noting her pink cheeks and lips set in a thin line. At once, he realized she had expected her mother to speak and had dreaded it, which suggested there was something more than the typical avarice Darcy usually encountered in ladies wishing to know more of his situation. This prompted him to answer kindly, rather than his custom, which was to dismiss such questions out of hand.

"Ah yes," said he, ignoring the severe look his aunt directed at Mrs. Bennet, or the utter disdain adorning Miss Bingley's face. "I suppose I have spoken little of it since I came to Meryton. But I am not unwilling."

Darcy enjoyed the shock Miss Elizabeth displayed, though he also noted Mr. Bennet watching them, eagerness mixed with glee. Mrs. Bennet's expression was almost demanding. Before Darcy could speak, however, another interjected his opinion.

"You know not what you ask, Mrs. Bennet," said Fitzwilliam, "for Darcy can speak of his estate for hours if you give him any encouragement."

"Of course, he can," said Georgiana. "Pemberley is everything lovely."

"It is," agreed Darcy. "The estate has been in my family for many generations, Mrs. Bennet. We are quite proud of it, there is no finer place."

"I understand how one's home appeals, Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Bennet, avoiding any more overt comment. "We are fond of Longbourn, though it must be nothing to your home."

"Longbourn is a handsome estate, Mrs. Bennet. Yet to me, Pemberley is different. It is a large house, and the grounds are extensive, but to Georgiana and me, it is a beloved home."

"Where in Derbyshire is it located?"

"A little east of the peaks, perhaps two or three hours north of Derby. Pemberley is situated in a long valley, which must account for the excellent quality of the soil there."

"What are your crops?" asked Mr. Bennet with some interest.

For a time, they spoke of different crops and rotations, the herds of sheep or cattle that diversified their estates' enterprise. Darcy spoke of a small mine on the northern edge of his lands and something of the beauties one could see there, giving Mrs. Bennet all the information she craved. While Mrs. Bennet was excitable, Darcy realized at once that she was a good sort of woman, a woman he hoped would one day be his mother-in-law. Thus, he had no compunction at all about offering as much information as she wished to hear.

"All this talk of Derbyshire has reminded me," said Mrs. Bennet when they had spoken on the subject for some time. "My sister—my brother's wife—lived in Derbyshire for some years when she was a girl."

This, Darcy sensed, was the crux of Mrs. Bennet's interest in Pemberley. Curious to know what she meant by it, he asked: "Where did she live?"

"It was a little town she extols to the heavens whenever she has the chance. It is called Lambton."

"Is Lambton not the town near Pemberley, Darcy?" asked Fitzwilliam, knowing very well that it was.

"Yes, it is," said Darcy, surprised by this unexpected connection. "When did she live there?"

Mrs. Bennet appeared insufferably smug, regarding him with a smile almost beatific in its brilliance. "I do not quite recall, Mr. Darcy, though I believe it was when she was a girl."

"Aunt was a little older," interjected Miss Elizabeth. "I recall her telling me she left Lambton when she was about fifteen."

"Which would have been about twenty years ago," said Mrs. Bennet with a nod. "Or a little less."

"Perhaps I know of her," said Mr. Darcy. "Who was her father?"

"Her father was a parson," replied Mrs. Bennet, "and his name was Cantwell."

"Reverend Cantwell!" exclaimed Darcy. "I remember little of him, for I was young, and my family attended church in Kympton, but I know the name very well. My father had good relations with him and always referred to him as an excellent parson."

If anything, Mrs. Bennet's response was even more self-satisfied. Darcy found himself afire with curiosity, but he could not ask, for at that moment the housekeeper entered the room and announced the start of dinner. As Bingley escorted Mrs. Bennet—though he ensured Miss Bennet occupied his other arm—and Mr. Bennet approached Miss Bingley, the rest of the party paired with their dinner partners or guided two ladies into the room, Darcy kept Miss Elizabeth's company for himself, determined to know the truth of her mother's interest. When Miss Bingley signaled for the soup, Darcy lost no time in querying Miss Elizabeth.

"Such a connection is quite a surprise, Miss Elizabeth. I wonder that you never spoke of it before."

"It would have been presumptuous, Mr. Darcy," said she. "I knew nothing of the location of Pemberley or Lambton, and as you never mentioned the latter and my aunt said nothing of the former, I had no knowledge of the connection."

Darcy nodded. "No, I suppose you could not. Yet your mother spoke of it as if she expected to provoke a response."

Miss Elizabeth sipped from her soup, formulating her answer or so Darcy supposed. It was a moment before she spoke again.

"There was a certain event today that rendered the location of Pemberley a matter of some interest; my mother was determined to obtain the details. I hope she did not offend you with her impertinent questions."

"Not at all," said Darcy. "Think nothing more of it, for I completely understand why she would ask.

"Or perhaps I do not completely understand. You mentioned something of an event today?"

"Yes, I did," said Miss Elizabeth. "I received a letter from my aunt. With all that has happened, I quite forgot that I am to travel this summer with my relations. As my uncle cannot spare enough time from his business, we cannot go as far as he originally designed."

Dismay filled Darcy's breast. Miss Elizabeth would travel that summer? Just when he was certain he had provoked her regard. This was the most inopportune timing!

Then Darcy paused and watched her, noting how her lips curled despite her attempt to show nonchalance. The gist of the discussion he had just engaged in with her mother returned to his memory, telling Darcy there was something he was missing. Darcy was certain he now knew what it was.

"Traveling can be quite enjoyable," said he, "if one takes the time to stop and tour locations of interest."

"That is my uncle's plan," said Miss Elizabeth. "The delay has tried my aunt's patience most cruelly, for she has wished to travel to Derbyshire for many years."

"And where were they to go?"

"The lakes," replied Miss Elizabeth, still clinging to her apparent unconcern.

"Yet by your confession, they cannot go so far. Dare I ask where they mean to visit?"

"Derbyshire is our destination," said Miss Elizabeth, her lips now curved in an obvious smile.

"Teasing woman!" exclaimed Darcy, his outburst catching the attention of nearly the entire company. Darcy ignored them, for no one was so important as the woman before him. "Tell me, Miss Elizabeth—what part of Derbyshire do they intend to visit?"

"Why, we shall visit Lambton, Mr. Darcy, the site of so many of my aunt's most precious memories."

This opened so many possibilities, that Darcy could scarcely conceive of them all. A time to court without the interference of her family or his, the privilege of showing her the scenes of his youth, the place he hoped would become as dear to her as it was to him, the chance to demonstrate what sort of man he was when he was comfortable in his home—all these things and more lay before him. All he needed to do was reach out and grasp them.

"Miss Elizabeth," said he with the gravest intensity, "I would be pleased if you would consent to visit Pemberley when you are in the north. I do not know how much touring you will do on the way, but while you are in Derbyshire, I would very much like to host you and your family. Will you pass along an invitation to stay at Pemberley to your aunt and uncle?"

"Are you certain, sir?" asked Elizabeth. "You have never made their acquaintance."

"I have never been more certain of anything in my life," averred Darcy. "As you esteem your relations, your recommendation is good enough for me. I should be happy to host them for as long as they wish to stay in the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth. "I should be happy to pass along your invitation."

That settled, Darcy stayed with Miss Elizabeth for the rest of the evening, and it gratified him to note that she appeared content to remain by his side. They discussed a myriad of subjects, each more engaging than the last had been. Regardless of the subjects they canvassed, Darcy was content, for the prospect of having her at Pemberley filled him with contentment. For the first time, he felt that all was well, that he might obtain all he ever dreamed. The only thing he needed to do was make her as desperately in love with him as he was with her. That end had never seemed so attainable.