Chapter XVII

S ummer and its attendant warmth, the luxuriant growth of woods and wildflowers, and the beauty as far as the eye could see had always filled Elizabeth's heart with joy. As the days lengthened and approached the solstice that would bring their new neighbors, Elizabeth reveled in the freedom the warm temperatures afforded her, freedom that allowed her access to the countryside with Mr. Darcy, to conduct their courtship on Longbourn's grounds as much as they did so in the house.

? Thus, they spent their days when not busy with other activities about the estate engaged in walking, riding with one of their sisters in attendance, playing chess, reading together, and debating literature and other subjects. These were heady days for Elizabeth, for she had not considered the possibility of finding a suitor so soon after she and her family had taken up residence at Longbourn, nor would she have supposed it possible that Mr. Darcy, their old family friend, would emerge as a potential husband.

? Had she misjudged him? More than prejudice, Elizabeth thought her expectations were understandable. What she had thought of Mr. Darcy was born of a lack of understanding about his character, which was not a surprise considering she had not known him well. Mr. Darcy would be the first to acknowledge that most of those who professed to be of high society were more than a little superior. Elizabeth had not thought of him in such a fashion—she had not imagined he would eschew those advantages a man in his position had a right to expect. It was not unnatural for her to think that way.

? The way he—and his dear sister—had overthrown all her expectations had at first caught her by surprise. After a time of his increasing ardency, she had grown curious, for she knew that his father had been cut from a different cloth, one that did not allow him any measure of closeness with his father's close friend because of his status as a parson. An outing on horseback with Georgiana in attendance clarified matters for Elizabeth to a certain extent, though she suspected she would need a lifetime to understand Fitzwilliam Darcy.

? They were riding with little plan for any destination; that morning, Mr. Darcy had handled some estate business with her father, and as they completed it early, he had suggested Darcy and Elizabeth ride out. Their chaperon for the day was Georgiana, who had ridden beside Elizabeth for some time as they set out, laughing and bantering as they meandered through Longbourn's lands to the north, Mr. Darcy leading the way and glancing back often as they rode.

? "You had better ride with William for a time, Elizabeth," said Georgiana after they had ridden for perhaps ten minutes. "The looks from my dear brother suggest I may be the recipient of his ire if I do not relinquish your company."

? It was a saucy comment, and one the girl had become much more adept at making in the time since she had come to Longbourn. Elizabeth stifled a laugh and attempted to fix a stern glare on her friend, but Mr. Darcy called to them at that moment, having halted on a rise coupled with a break in the trees. As they approached, the view swept out before them, and Elizabeth noted the fields and groves laid out before their eager eyes, a large brick manor house standing tall and proud in the distance.

? "Netherfield Park, I presume," said Elizabeth, and she gazed with appreciation at the vista laid out before them.

? "Yes, it is," replied Mr. Darcy. "When I look at it from this vantage, I can only say that my friend has made an excellent investment."

? "There is much to like about this area."

? For a few moments, they stayed gazing out at the view, before they pressed on toward the north. This time, however, Georgiana ensured there was a change in the order of their passage, for she held back at their departure, allowing Elizabeth to ride ahead with Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth fixed the girl with a dark look, but Georgiana only waved, clearly pleased with herself. Another who appeared pleased was Mr. Darcy.

? "It is a blessing to have such a wonderful sister," said he, grinning at Elizabeth.

? "Oh?" asked Elizabeth. "Can I suppose you plotted this between you?"

? "No," replied Mr. Darcy, "but I believe Georgiana understands my wishes. She is not at all opposed—in all truth, I suspect she is eager to push us together as much as I wish to keep your company to myself."

? "I had no notion I had fallen in with such disreputable schemers," lamented Elizabeth.

? "Georgiana can be quite devious when she wishes it, Miss Elizabeth. I advise you to take great care when you are in her company."

? "Well, this is a fine to do!" exclaimed Elizabeth without thinking. "You are both completely oversetting my expectations."

? For a moment, Elizabeth worried how Mr. Darcy might have misconstrued her unthinking exclamation. The gentleman, far from being offended, regarded her with no little amusement.

? "I suppose you expected me to be haughty and proud."

? "No, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, feeling serious despite their teasing tones. "You forget I met you when you visited my father's parsonage. Though I was only thirteen, I remember something of you. I did not see you as haughty then, and I did not expect it now."

? Mr. Darcy regarded her with a soft smile, seeming to sense her sincerity. "Then what, Miss Elizabeth?"

? "A curiosity, I suppose," said Elizabeth. "I do not doubt your current interest, for you have proven yourself to be a man of soberness, a man who does not engage in such intimacies we shared lightly. Rather, I suppose I wonder at your liberality—a man of your situation in life does not pay much attention to the daughter of a parson, even if she has risen to the ranks of the lower gentry."

? "There are many of my acquaintances who would agree with you," replied Mr. Darcy.

? Silence settled over them, and they rode on, Elizabeth welcoming the sensation of the wind in her face, the pastoral setting of trees crowding about the path they were on, with the clopping of the horses' hooves and the songs of cheery birds dancing about them. While she wondered what he was thinking, the silence between them would not have been onerous even if the sounds of nature had not rendered the possibility of quiet impossible. Aware that his response might be among the most consequential of their interactions, Elizabeth waited for him to speak, comfortable in his presence.

? "I understand your point, Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Darcy. "Yet I am not certain I can explain it myself."

? Curious, Elizabeth regarded him. "Perhaps you should explain what you can. Then we may discover the rest together?"

? "An excellent notion," said Mr. Darcy with an appreciative nod. "Then I shall endeavor to do so."

? "The truth is, Miss Elizabeth, that I have often thought rather well of myself." Mr. Darcy chuckled and offered her a helpless shrug. "I must suppose that I am not unique among my class, and I am not so proud as some of them. Despite that, the virtue of wealth and standing leads one to possess a high self-image."

? "That may be so," replied Elizabeth. "But I see nothing of it."

? "I thank you for that," said Mr. Darcy with a nod. "The reason, I suspect, is that I have had no cause to consider myself above you and your family. In society, however, my reputation is different, one that I will own that I cultivated."

? "Is that so?" asked Elizabeth, intrigued by his assertion.

? "I am a reticent fellow, Miss Elizabeth," replied Mr. Darcy. "While there are those such as Bingley who gain friends by the force of their personality, I am not among their number. The fact is that I am much more discriminating about my friends, for I do not wish to associate with those who do not hold themselves to the same standard of behavior to which I hold myself."

? "That is no black mark in my book, Mr. Darcy."

? A nod and a smile comprised the gentleman's response. "No, I suppose it is not. The image cultivation I mentioned comes from the standard to which I hold myself. Many in society would take advantage of a more open demeanor to impose themselves upon me—Bingley's sister is one of them. Thus, I hold myself aloof, knowing that it will keep the more objectionable with whom I do not wish to associate away."

? Elizabeth understood his meaning at once, and while she might not have any capacity to emulate his chosen defense against those undesirables, she could not fault him for wishing to remain apart. This did not answer the question she most wished to learn; she toyed with asking him to clarify, but the gentleman continued speaking with no prompting.

? "I do not speak thus to suggest any virtue in me, for I suspect this tendency to hold myself aloof is not desirable. It relates to your question rather closely. It is not the background, birth, or any other unchangeable characteristic that I look for in a friend. My criterion for whom I will choose as friends consists almost entirely of whether I can tolerate that person's behavior, for poor conduct is what I cannot abide. If I do not find a person interesting, yet they behave appropriately, I will still associate with them, though a closer friendship is likely impossible."

? "I limit close companionship to those with whom I share compatible interests—those I like instead of just tolerate."

? "Yes, that is it," replied Mr. Darcy. "Now, I have clarified something of what you were asking, but not all of it. To state the matter without disguise, you are correct to assume that my father raised me with a certain expectation in mind for my future bride."

? "Your father married the daughter of an earl," said Elizabeth.

? "That is an excellent example," concurred Mr. Darcy. "If I so chose, I might do the same as my father. Were he still alive, my father would expect it of me, for the purpose of marriage is to secure alliances and improve the family's position."

? A sudden thought seemed to come to Mr. Darcy, and he grimaced. "This is, in part, what motivates my aunt Lady Catherine, and she is not shy about stating her expectations. If I were to wed my cousin, her inheritance coupled with Pemberley would combine to elevate me among the wealthiest men in England. Should I fall in with her designs, my aunt expects a title would soon follow, which, together with my uncle's position as an earl, would increase the family's political power."

? "When you put it that way," observed Elizabeth, "I might wonder why you would refuse."

? "What need have I for a title?" asked Mr. Darcy rhetorically. "It would be another duty I have no interest in assuming and require me to mingle with those I do not care to know better than I do now. I only tolerate society at the best of times—I do not wish to associate with the higher set any more than I must."

? "Very well," said Elizabeth. "I understand that. There must be many other ladies who would be acceptable and who would not force you into the dreaded realm of mingling with the nobility."

? Mr. Darcy chuckled at her jest. "There are many ladies of most levels of society who would relieve me of my bachelor status without a second thought. In all honesty, I never considered marriage much, for I always thought it mattered little who I was to marry if the only purpose in marriage was to gain wealth and connections, and an heir of my body. The only thing with which I concerned myself was to ensure we could get along tolerably—I do not wish to marry a woman I cannot abide, after all."

? Elizabeth laughed and agreed that was desirable.

? "When I came to Longbourn, however, I noted my attraction to you, and I began to see that I might have something I never thought to find. While those members of the highest echelons congratulate themselves on their society marriages, I feel that untold wealth and political power would be cold consolation in an objectionable marriage. I now realize I want more from the marriage estate, and if I can find it, I will consider myself far richer than a duke who married a woman who possessed one hundred thousand pounds."

? "I suppose," said Elizabeth after a moment's thought, "that I never considered it. Before my father's inheritance, I had never expected to attract anything other than a parson. To own the truth, I did not think I would ever marry."

? "Yet now you are a gentlewoman possessing a dowry that cannot be dismissed lightly."

? Elizabeth shrugged. "Perhaps that is true, but no one other than the family knows of it, and I should like to keep it that way."

? "Trust me, Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Darcy, "if there were a way to keep the truth of my situation a secret, I would jump at it."

? "Thank you, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth with a nod. "I understand your motivations and can only applaud them."

A companionable silence fell between them as they rode together. A glance behind showed Georgiana following, enjoying the warmth of the day and the movement of the mare beneath her. Georgiana saw his glance and she grinned at him, her happiness showing in her sparkling eyes, the way she looked significantly at Miss Elizabeth.

? "Oh, what a lovely little valley!"

? Miss Elizabeth's exclamation drew Darcy's attention to the small glen spread out before them. It was, indeed, a lovely little bit of wilderness, with a bubbling brook running through the center and the tall forms of trees rising, guarding the little valley from the ravages of the outside world. Patches of wildflowers amid the emerald blades of the grass carpet covered the bit of loam between them and the brook, while the sun's rays pierced the canopy of leaves, mottling the turf before them. It was an altogether lovely little space, untouched by the hands of man.

? "Do you know where we are, Mr. Darcy?" asked Miss Elizabeth.

? Darcy looked about, taking his bearing from the sun's location in the sky and the prominence of the hill rising beyond the stream. "It appears we have come to the very southern edge of the hill north of Longbourn. If I were to guess, this valley is a little east of your father's lands, perhaps on the northern edge of Netherfield Park."

? Miss Elizabeth nodded. "Papa said that the hill to the north is not a part of Longbourn."

? "Estates usually abut each other," said Darcy. "There is a hill on the southern end of my estate, the crown of which serves as the border between my property and the one beyond, while the northern part extends into a small ruin. Neither location is of much use to the estate, but many claim such useless additions to their lands. The hill to the northeast of Longbourn is similar, but it must belong to one estate in the vicinity, or perhaps it is divided between them."

? "Then we may be in Netherfield's lands," said Miss Elizabeth, sliding from the back of the mare.

? "It is likely," replied Darcy, following her example. "Most landowners do not concern themselves with their neighbors making use of such idyllic locations as this."

? "That is well, then," said Miss Elizabeth, "for I believe I should like to walk along this lovely brook for a time."

? "I should be happy to join you," said Darcy.

? He turned and glanced at Georgiana, who dismounted behind them and noted her bright glance at the two of them. Seeing his unspoken question, Georgiana shook her head and produced a book from her saddlebag.

? "You and Elizabeth go ahead," said she, the unspoken wish to allow them time alone in each other's company misunderstood by neither. "I am content to wait for you here with my book."

? Miss Elizabeth fixed Georgiana with a suspicious glare, no doubt wondering why she had brought a book along. Though it did not happen often, Miss Elizabeth had occasionally desired to stop and walk while they rode out, so it was not singular. The lure of the little glen overcame Miss Elizabeth's suspicions, and after they saw to their mounts, they departed for a short walk among the foliage.

? The scene about them was fine, from the greenery surrounding them to the wildflowers to the laughing stream to the hill rising in the distance. Yet none of this could penetrate Darcy's fascination for the woman by his side. Miss Elizabeth took all his attention, leaving no room for such extraneous considerations as nature.

? "What a lovely hidden treasure," said she as they stopped by the side of the stream. She lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes, her smile showing her pleasure. "You do remember how to get here, do you not, Mr. Darcy?"

? Darcy almost failed to respond to her question, for he agreed with her suggestion of loveliness though he saw nothing of what she was seeing. Instead, he focused his every sense on the beauty of her face and form, such that a longing built in his breast, nigh overpowering him. It was only the sudden remembrance of her question that prevented him from proposing to her at that instant and damn the consequences of such an impetuous action.

? "Yes, Miss Elizabeth," said he, hearing a hint of hoarseness in his own voice. "I believe I can find it again."

? "Then I shall insist we return here when the opportunity presents itself," said she, opening her eyes and turning a beaming smile on him. "Since we have been so fortunate as to discover this place, it would be a shame to visit it but once."

? "Aye," replied Darcy quietly. "A shame, indeed."

? Then on the impulse of the moment, Darcy stooped over and plucked a bluebell from the ground beneath their feet. Straightening, he held the bloom out for her.

? "Though it is inadequate," said he, "I offer this token of my esteem, fair lady."

? Miss Elizabeth offered a beaming smile and accepted the flower, tucking it into her hair behind her left ear. "I shall treasure it always, Mr. Darcy." Her grin deepened and she added a little impishly: "Or at least as long as it lasts. Then, when it fades, perhaps I shall press it so that I may keep it always."

? "I hope you do, for I would not wish to forget this first symbol between us."

? With a smile, Miss Elizabeth turned and began walking along the stream to the north. "When we left Nottingham, I lamented going away from the scenes of my youth. Yet I must own that I came to love Longbourn tolerably well in a short time."

? "It is a pretty estate," agreed Darcy. "Should you ever see Pemberley, you will see there are several such locations of equal beauty. There is a small cliff on the northern side of the valley that makes up my estate where a small river flows over in a waterfall and gathers in a pool below."

? "I should like to see it, sir," said Miss Elizabeth. "As I understand your home is near the peaks, I suppose you may visit many lovely places with ease."

? "Such as Dove Dale," said Darcy. "It is within an easy distance from Pemberley."

? Miss Elizabeth sighed. "Yes, I should very much like to see such splendors as you describe."

? "Perhaps you shall, Miss Elizabeth," said Darcy. "Now, I will own that I am curious."

? "Oh?" asked she.

? A large oak was growing near the stream, and as they were passing it by, Miss Elizabeth stopped and leaned her back against its broad trunk. Her eyes met his as he leaned his hand against the wood just above and to the right of her head. It would be so easy to lean forward and claim the nymph's first kiss, but Darcy judged it premature, settling instead for gazing into her eyes, assured she could see everything he felt in his.

? "Can I assuage your curiosity?" asked she.

? "I would like that very much. You see, while I have spoken something of my qualifications for a marriage partner, you did not reciprocate. Shall you not tell me if I can measure up to your lofty requirements?"

? A little laugh escaped her lips at his playful statement. "Yes, I suppose it only fair that I should respond since you bared your heart to me.

? "In truth, there are several traits I would like to find in a husband. Most ladies would comment on the importance of finding a handsome man, while others would talk about wealth, or at least the ability to support a wife. Still others would speak of compatibility, kindness, and so on. All these things are important to be certain.

? "However, the most important to me, and one virtue that my sisters and I have always determined to have in a marriage partner is the deepest kind of love, combined with respect for our persons. If I can find that in a husband, I believe all those other requirements will be a natural part of the marriage estate."

? "Even the ability to support a wife?" asked Darcy playfully. "It would seem to me that even if you do find yourself deeply in love, you cannot assure the man can support you."

? "No, I suppose you must be correct," said Miss Elizabeth. "If I loved a man enough to wish to be with him forever, I may even accept penury to be with him."

? "Your father would never allow you to live in squalor," said Darcy.

? "Then I suppose I can choose anyone who suits my fancy." With an impish grin, she added: "And I do have a fortune that allows me some choice."

? "Very well, Miss Elizabeth. I thank you for your comprehensive and exacting list of qualifications and wish you the best in finding your heart's desire."

? "You only wish me the best?" asked Elizabeth, quirking an eyebrow at him.

? "At present, I believe that is all I can offer," said Darcy. "I hope that will change in the coming days, as you have served notice. Fortunately, I am the only one at present who understands the fullness of your standards, which is to my advantage. I intend to make good use of that knowledge."

? The sound of Miss Elizabeth's tinkling laughter echoed throughout the glen.

Georgiana heard the laughter and glanced up from her book, though she had not been paying much attention to it. She could just see William and Elizabeth at the far end of the valley, Elizabeth leaning against a tree beside the brook, William leaning over her, displaying the utter devotion Georgiana was certain he felt for her.

? A wave of happiness swept through her at the sight. Georgiana had always wanted a sister. Her Aunt Susan was wonderful, and her cousins everything she could wish, but a sister with whom to exchange confidences would fill all Georgiana's ideas of happiness.

? Had Georgiana thought on the matter at all, it would have pleased her to know William found himself attracted to any of the Bennet sisters. Jane was beautiful, rational, and kind, and would have made the best of sisters, while Mary, though a little more serious than her sisters, was intelligent and affectionate, and their interests matched nicely. Elizabeth was lively with a pleasing archness almost designed to capture William's attention, and Georgiana knew that these were among the qualities that so entranced her brother. She would make him an excellent wife. Georgiana could hardly wait.

? In the end, she supposed it did not matter, for if William chose one of them, all three would be her sisters. What an excellent family William had introduced her to! Even the memory of her experience with Mr. Wickham was fading as if it were a dream. Georgiana had much for which to thank them all, and she anticipated doing so for the rest of her life.